The Son Of A Scout (REWRITING) • Transformers Prime

1.

5 years ago. Jasper, Nevada.

As the sun rose over the top of the mountain of Jasper, its bright rays tinted the dusty, orange terrain. It was the middle of the summer, and today was a very special day.

The Autobot scout, Bumblebee, was at the Team Prime base in med bay with Ratchet and his sparkmate Jewels. They had just given birth to a baby mech, and his name was Marshall Bee. 

Bumblebee was happy to finally have a son. something was wrong with his sparkmate, Jewels. She wasn't as happy, but rather seemed to be struggling for air.

Ratchet had quickly given Marshall to Bee and ushered the two out of the room before Bumblebee could even ask what was happening. It all happened in less than minutes.

Bumblebee looks down at Marshall with a big, soft smile. He was worried about Jewels, but when he looked into his son's little optics, all of it melted away. Marshall had his sweet, adorable baby blue optics and his frame colors, too. Yellow with black stripes.

"Oh, you're just perfect." Bumblebee murmurs softly, his proud yet giddy smile shining through.

It wasn't long until Ratchet returned, but his expression was less than happy. It was grim, and cold. his next words echoed in Bee's mind for years to come.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Bumblebee."

< Present Day >

5-cycle-old Marshall was sitting down, listening to another one of his favorite of Wheeljack's war stories.

"-and then me and Bulkhead were back-to-back, surrounded by 'Cons. But it was nothing we couldn't take. Pow! Crash! Boom! In around 10 minutes, they were all dead."

"Whoa! How did you guys survive if there were like, 50 of them?" Marshall looked up at Jackie, beaming with pride and joy.

Wheeljack smirked at him. "Well, kiddo, you can't always be fighting alone. If you are, you don't have much of a chance with things like that."

Marshall grinned. Wheeljack was one of the coolest Wreckers he knew.

Bee was sitting nearby, listening but also making sure Marshall wouldn't try anything with any weapons.

"And you did that, only with your katana!"

Wheeljack nodded, smiling. "Yep! I'm pretty cool, aren't I?"

Marshall wanted to to train to be a Wrecker when he grew up, and Bee always caught him playing with dangerous weapons and such, which only made the single father more protectie of his son.

The worst that had happened was when Marshall was three, and and had one of Jackie's swords.

"No! You can't touch that!" Bee said, running over and grabbing the katana.

"Why not?" Marshall had asked.

"It's much too dangerous for you." Bee responded, picking him up.

"Hey! So, that's where my sword went!" Jackie called when Bee came by, and he was grinning.

Bee didn't want Marshall playing with weapons more than half his size. He glared at Wheeljack, which caused the wrecker to chuckle and walk away.

"Why can't I pway with Jackie's swords?" Marshall whined.

"Well, Marshall, they're extremely dangerous for little mechs like you. When you get older and bigger, you'll be able to train to use them."

"I hate being small...."

"You'll grow bigger soon." Bee said, and then, was trying to make him feel better, but he knew that he himself wasn't very big, so the scout wasn't entirely sure how big Marshall would get.

Marshall had huffed. "I will! Just watch!"

Now, 5-year-old Marshall was even more curious and mischievous. So he planned a little trick.

When Bee was sleeping, Marshall snuck into his bedroom to find some of his weaponry. Bee had a wall of them, somewhere. While Marshall was looking, he saw a wall of photos of Bee and a femme. He had to stand on a box to get a good view of them. Was that his mom?

Marshall tried to grab one and the box swayed, and fell.

"AH!"

Bee shot up from his sleep and pointed his gun at Marshall, his baby optics not quite adjusted to the darkness.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM, 'CON?!"

Marshall started to cry.

Once the scout hears the crying, his spark drops to his stomach. He knew exactly who it was. a wave of sorrow washes over him for scaring such a young bot. His son. Bee's expression melts into one of heartbreak.

  Oh, what is wrong with you, Bee? Pulling a gun on your little boy...?

His mind raced with thoughts, but he pushed them away. Bumblebee instantly put his gun away and picked up Marshall. He speaks softer than ever, his baby blue optics displaying his fatherly love for him.

"Primus, Marsh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Marshall sniffed and turned away. Bee sighed softly and tried to hug him, but Marshall was still resisting.

"I didn't mean that...I thought you were a bad guy, okay? I just got scared. Daddy's sorry." Bee's voice was a little sad, and it was clear he felt terrible about it, even a bit ashamed. He had just been so paranoid recently.

Marshall still didn't turn around, and was very quiet.

Bee sighs, racking his brain trying to think of how to cheer his little boy up again. Once he got an idea, he smiled a little. "Marshall, come on... Don't make me use my secret weapon."

Marshall looked at him. "You don't have one."

Bee smile grew wider, and he realizes it was working.

"Oh really? You left me no choice." He then started to tickle Marshall, who yelled,

"Stop stop!

"Not until you forgive me!"

"Okay okay! I forgive you! I forgive you!" Marshall squeaked, giggling uncontrollably.

Bee laughs softly, stopping and hugging him. Marshall hugged him back. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Marshall."