TFP Family (Sequel of "Bumblebee, You Will Be Okay)

Sacrifices

Bumblebee's P.O.V

Smokescreen's optics fluttered on and off. I lifted the sword from it's position, holding on to a glint of hope. Though, it faltered quickly as he started to growl. It was going too fast. It would consume him if something wasn't done. 

"Where is the relic," WheelJack whispered. I motioned for the hall. I felt as he shifted behind me. As he went to make his move, Arcee came out from the hallway. My optics went wide as Smokescreen turned to her. A sickening smile met his faceplate. 

"Arcee!" She looked up from her pod we use to keep track of supplies. Smokescreen took her by her arm, flipping her over his back. He placed a ped on her back in between her door wings, and bent down to wrap his servo around her throat. Shouts of dismay erupted, but subsided as Smokescreen chuckled. 

"One move Bumblebot, and the femme will know the feeling of not being able to speak. And you know how that feels." I shifted my weight, my options continued to dwindle to nothing. I looked at Ratchet, his optics wide. Though they were focused on Smokescreen, he felt mine on him. His reached mine, them searching mine for an answer. He shook his helm, knowing what I had to do. Something I didn't have when I was infected. 

"I'm sorry." I used as much force as my own body would let me to harm myself, my instincts fighting the action. The katana plunged into my abdomen, so much for being one hundred percent. I felt my form falter, taking a knee. Smokescreen cried out, allowing Arcee to escape and Bulkhead to hold him down. WheelJack grabbed me before I could fall forward, his katana sticking through me. 

WheelJack's P.O.V

I caught the kid before he could fall forward, the picture of him impaled with my katana burning into my processor already. Agent Fowler hollered in dismay at the scene. Saying something about self-sacrificing Autbots. Arcee entered the room once more, standing in front of Smokescreen, and activated the relic. It zapping Smokescreen who was held in Bulkheads grasp. 

"Kid, stay with me now," I wrapped my servos underneath the kids armpits, dragging him to the med bay, afraid too much would harm him due to the sword sticking from within him. Ratchet already on my tailpipe. 

"Lay him down, lay him down," frantic servos found mine as he helped me put him on the med bay berth for what felt as the millionth time with this kid. "Optimus! I need you to help WheelJack dislodge the sword on my count." I position myself to the side of Bee, holding him in place, his optics flickering in dismay to the pain. Bulkhead gently placing Smokescreen on the other berth at Bumblebee's peds caught my optic. The kid was going to be okay. Optimus readied himself, "now!" I held Bumblebee's form as Optimus pulled the katana out of Bumblebee. 

"Frag!" Bumblebee hollered his door wings shooting him up from the berth, his back arching, servos bending the sides of the berth. My servos were already over the wound, energon beginning to seep through my servos. 

Optimus placed my katana on a nearby table, knowing I didn't want anything to do with it at this moment. The Prime turned to the stairs where the humans were comforting Bumblebee's charge, Raf. "It is wise that you three follow Agent Fowler to the lounging area. Bumblebee would not wish you to see him in this condition." Reluctantly, the humans agreed, even Miko. 

Ratchet's servos shook, I look to find his optics, "Doc, you have to focus. Your son needs you right now. It is not the time." He found my optics, nodding curtly. 

After hours of repairs, Bumblebee was patched, the newest welding job stuck off of him ever so slightly. I slid down the wall to sit along Ratchet who stared at his two sons, keeping the berths occupied. "I don't know how you do it, Doc."

"I do not either."