Little Things

One shot. Takes place after Chasing the Flame, but before the sequel. Enjoy.

 

CtF

 

Little Things

 

It was the little things that reminded them. Alex was usually such a bright and happy teenager that they sometimes forgot where he came from. They forgot the marks and mental scars 17 years of abuse and neglect that were inflicted upon the blond. But sometimes, when they were watching, they could see the small ticks, habits, and behaviors that the boy did. At first, none of them made sense until they remembered the important details.

For seventeen years their boy, their youngest, their light had been hit and starved and forgotten and the only reason he was still as optimistic and sunny as he was today was because he developed survival techniques that carried on despite being removed from his old home and put in one that cared and loved him. It was never anything big or obvious.

It was always the little things that reminded them.

 

Prowl

 

Officer Chase Hunter was not a rookie. He had been on the force for nearly a decade and had seen the darker side of this supposedly domestic and peaceful society. He’d seen people gunned down in front of him, people turning out to be wolves in sheep’s clothing, and people hurting others just for their own enjoyment. He’d seen it a hundred times and he had no doubt that he would see it another thousand times before he retired.

But one thing that lit his fuse like no other was child abuse of any kind.

So when he found out that Alexander Bee Steek, the newest edition to their alien group, was a victim of child abuse of nearly every kind he’d been furious and spared nothing in his drive to remove Alex from his home and place him with them. And now, months after the trial, Prowl could watch Alex work on cars, dance with Jazz, and patrol with them at night and feel satisfied because Alex always did it with a smile and a laugh. Alex was happy where he was and thriving. It was one of the few happy endings he got to see in the oily pit of deaths and trauma.

And Alex was thriving.

Prowl smiled a bit as he lounged on a couch in Eric’s home. It was a rare moment of free time for the workaholic and he felt that he wanted some company today. Normally he would seek out Jazz but the shorter man was spending time with his wife and son, so Prowl had left before Jazz became aware of his presence. His next stop was Eric’s home where he’d been welcomed by Alex. The blond had apparently been told to take the day off while the others manned the Autoshop. Alex didn’t seem so perturbed by the motion, explaining that he’d been building a circuit board recently and this gave him the time he needed to finish it.

The TV was playing a documentary, but Prowl wasn’t really watching it. His eyes were focused on the slim teen sitting by the coffee table. A smile tugged at his normally frozen lips as he watched the teen adjust his safety glasses before soldering another wire in place. He’d been working for a good hour, referring to the book next to his project a few times. What was a bit funny was that Prowl found out that Alex had a habit of muttering while he worked, meaning Prowl could hear the instructions and notes that were running through the smart boy’s head as well as the curses when something didn’t work for him.

The smile grew when Alex scowled and adjust his standing magnifying glass, trying to see what he had done wrong. The blond huffed and steadied the board with his free hand while bringing the tool back.

The door slammed open, causing both of the house’s occupants to jump, though Alex hissed and Prowl could see that the hot tool had slipped and burned the teen’s hand. Prowl was about to go forward and see how bad it was, ignoring the yelling and arguing Sebastian and Gabriel as they entered the room, when Alex turned his head ever so slightly and did something that made Prowl feel sick.

He froze.

Alex’s shoulders didn’t even rise or fall to indicate breathing. The single part of him that did move were his wary blue eyes under protective gear, following the arguing couple as they moved into the kitchen. It was only when Seb and Gabe moved into the kitchen and mostly out of sight that Alex relaxed minutely. With careful hands, that Prowl could see were trembling faintly, the teen turned off his tool and took off his goggles. He quietly put everything on standby before getting up and leaving the room to disappear down the hall with his bedroom.

And Prowl could only watch, stomach cramping and roiling with a need to puke up his lunch. That freeze and careful, silent behavior was something he’d seen a hundred times. Kids were raised to know that raised voices were bad, signaling danger, fear, or anger. But children who were raised to know that raised voices meant pain displayed behavior just like Alex did. Freezing to hopefully avoid grabbing attention and then retreating when it was relatively safe to move. The officer had seen it on beaten and mistreated youths and it hurt his spark to think that Alex fell in such a category, but the look in those blue eyes… It was the same.

It hurt his spark to remember that, despite his normal attitude, Alex was very much a recovering abused child.

Whose instincts had been triggered by the arguing of two of the people who were supposed to protect him.

Prowl’s eyes narrowed as he glared in the direction of the kitchen, debating if he should risk both of the volatile tempers of Ratchet and Ironhide to tell them to shut up. After a moment, he thought of a better solution and got up, following Alex down the hall. The officer found him in the bathroom, putting ointment on the thin burn on his palm. The teen looked up and met Prowl’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror and, though Bee had mostly covered it, the blond-slash-burnet could still see the haunted and cautious shadow in those usually bright blue eyes.

Prowl crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam, nodding in the direction of the back door. “Do you want to come with me to the park?” he asked softly.

The smile wasn’t at its usual brightness, but the honesty and feeling behind it was there. The blond nodded and quickly finished with his hand and followed the older man through the backyard to the driveway. It soothed Prowl’s conscience a bit to know that Bee trustingly followed him and didn’t direct that wary look in his direction. At least he could do this to protect the teen. If he had a say Alex would never be reminded of his parents ever again.

 

Jazz

 

Jazz was a very physically affectionate man. He’d always been that way from when he could barely walk to when he was moonlighting as some sort of city protector against the Decepticons. It had taken awhile after he’d left the military and special operations to tolerate being touched again let alone liking it, but it had come back after he met his darling wife and held his son for the first time.

He handed out hugs wherever he went. To his coworkers, his friends, his family; anyone who looked like they hadn’t had a hug that day really.

So when Alex suddenly came up in his life he hugged the kid as well because he knew the kid needed it. All of his Spec Ops sense were telling him there was more to Alex than the smart and bright kid he saw almost every day. Jazz honestly thought he had fallen in with the wrong crowd when he wasn’t at the Autoshop, but when the blond had been found beaten and nearly raped by his own father he knew what had triggered his senses.

It was Alex’s core of steel. His perseverance when everyone else would’ve cracked. His mask when he began to crack. He was Spec Ops. No doubt about it.

But he was also a kid. A kid who needed a lot of hugs. And Jazz never wasted a chance to give him those hugs. It just never occurred to him that Alex might be…uncomfortable with the hugs. Not until Jazz actually saw the kid’s reaction.

It was a Sunday when Jazz quietly crept into the garage. He smiled when he saw Alex’s back to him and no one else around. The others must’ve gone for lunch or went upstairs briefly. Not that it mattered. Jazz could now introduce the teenager to his specialty: HAH! Or the Heart Attack Hug. Yes, Jazz came up with the name himself and he’d never been prouder of an acronym in his life.

The police officer crouched a bit and crept forward, turning and twisting so cars or tool boxes blocked him from view should Alex randomly turn. If his Spec Ops handler saw him now, using techniques taught to kill in order to do a sneak-attack hug, he’d probably shoot Jazz for disgracing his efforts. But oh well. Jazz found it therapeutic to turn his lethal and deadly skills into something light and fun, sharing the love. It reminded him that he wasn’t totally a killer.

Jazz crouched not three feet behind the teen, who was still working on the car, and grinned before moving forward to complete the HAH. But Alex moved just then, turning and reaching for a tool. The adult could see the moment the blond caught sight of him, freezing for a single microsecond, eyes widening, before he reacted.

Jazz expected him to leap back and out of the way of a possible attack or to just lock up, but Alex did neither much to his surprise and horror. Alex pivoted the foot closest to the approaching adult and dropped down slightly to center his weight before bringing his arms up. The split second before Jazz reached the point of no return, the adult felt his heart fall into his stomach. Alex had just dropped into a defensive stance, arms ready to protect his chest and stance ready for any force to hit him.

The police officer stopped his forward motion, bouncing back with a fake grin. “Hey, Alex!” he greeted jovially. His golden eyes behind his sun glasses traced in every movement of the teen, watching as blue eyes flicked over his form before his body relaxed casually, raised arms changing their motion to brushing off his shirt as an equally fake smile appeared on his face.

“Jazz, I didn’t hear you come in.” Jazz’s smile nearly dropped at the convincing act. He would’ve totally bought it if it weren’t for the fading fear in those light blue eyes. It was a fear of him.

Oh. Well, didn’t that make him feel like a monster.

The adult consciously fixed his smile before reaching back and rubbing the back of his head, making sure that the motion was slow even as his heart fell to his feet when he saw the minute movement of Alex’s head, keeping his hand in sight without actually looking at it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I just wanted to see if you could catch me.”

Alex shrugged before turning back to the car. The former Spec Ops didn’t miss the fact that Alex wasn’t standing in the middle of the front of the car, but favoring the right side so he could easily keep Jazz in sight. It could be so that Alex could easily maintain eye contact while they talked, but Jazz’s guilt-addled conscience interpreted it as a motion to keep a possible threat under surveillance.

Jazz was vaguely aware that he was talking, spewing up a topic to talk about, but most of his attention was on reviewing that past 30 seconds. There was only one real explanation for Alex’s fight reaction to seeing a possible attack coming. His body was used to surprise attacks and had coped by creating a habit of dropping into a defensive stance when approached from behind. Alex had been attacked often enough in order for that response to become involuntary.

For a single moment, Jazz felt an unholy rage fill his spark. How dare Alex’s father make the kid have to react like that? How dare he? A child was supposed to be protected and loved and the child in front of him had been beaten and spat upon. It wasn’t right. How could someone do that to a good kid like Alex? Was it possible for Jazz to hurt his little son Markus? No. No! He couldn’t let that happen. Not ever.

“Whoa, Jazz! Are you alright? Was it something I said?”

Jazz blinked out of his dark and angry thoughts to see Bee straightening, looking at him with worried and wary eyes, flicking between his sunglasses and chest. The adult knew the gesture. It wasn’t all that surprising that Bee was so sensitive to their sparks given that he was an empath, but it was surprising that he was remembering his gift so quickly without consciously recalling the memories. Alex was much more sensitive than anyone on their team; able to detect their hidden sparks at close range and know their emotions when they revealed their wings. It was incredible as well as irritating because Jazz literally had no poker face when the kid was around and paying attention.

He consciously calmed himself, thinking about puppies and Prowl and mash mellows. “Naw, BB,” he drawled with a soft smile. “Just something on my mind.”

The teen’s eyes narrowed a bit, no doubt recalling the hot and burning emotion he’d felt. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” Jazz’s heart sank a bit at the slight hurt that flickered in those blue eyes that were too old for only seventeen years, but he smiled and slowly spread his arms so as not to alarm the kid. “But I would like a hug.”

The smile that appeared was beautiful to Jazz. How the kid could still honestly smile like he was now was beyond Jazz, but he would enjoy the sight. The teen came forward without hesitation and wrapped his arms around the adult. Jazz grinned and he caged Bee in, rocking side to side in happiness. He may have startled the teen into trying to defend himself, but he was glad the kid didn’t actually fear him.

He didn’t know if he could take the realization that Alex feared the monster in him.

 

Ironhide

 

Fourth of July. It was Gabe’s favorite holiday. He didn’t have to worry about getting everyone presents or cooking complicated foods or if he was going to run out of beer. No. On this evening he had explosions in the sky, a cold one in hand, and a burger in the other. He had great—maybe a little irritating—company that didn’t make him feel like he needed to hold back and he had a great chance of getting a piece of Ratchet tonight if his lover kept downing that rum like he was.

Of course, it might be the other way around if Gabe kept drinking his vodka like he was.

The large man looked down at his glass with a small frown. It was empty. Now that was a crime against humanity. Screw the ‘Cons. They had nothing on an empty cup on the Fourth.

“Be right back,” he rumbled as he pushed himself up from his camping chair in the backyard. He waved his cup so they got his meaning even if none of them were really paying attention. They were wrapped up in whatever they were wrapped up in. He didn’t really care. Well, he did care that Jazz and Prowl were making out across the fire, but he didn’t mind that. It was about time.

He made his way back into the house, head buzzing. He was somewhere between buzzed and drunk, but he didn’t think he’d be getting wasted tonight. Though Ironhide still needed more vodka.

The veteran made his way to the kitchen where all the food and drink was. He would’ve just gone straight for the fridge and the alcohol if a splash of yellow didn’t stand out among the reds and browns of the food. Gabriel looked over to see Alex sitting at the island, house-laptop in front of him and a plate of food next to that.

The teenager looked up and waved, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Gabe replied instantly, frowning as the blond immediately went back to the laptop. “What are you doing in here?” he asked, pulling the fridge open and reaching for the alcohol drawer without taking his eyes of the youngest in the family.

Bee blinked at him before pointing at his food. “Eating,” he said calmly before focusing on the laptop again. Somewhere in ‘Hide’s buzzing mind, alarms began to go off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was bothering him about the kid. But his main dilemma was still here. Alex was sitting in here all alone when he should be out having fun with the rest of them.

“Come on, kid,” Ironhide ordered, holding out the arm that held the vodka. Bee looked over again, eyes widening a bit. “You’ll have more fun out there than in here.”

“I’m good, Gabe,” the teen assured him with a smile that didn’t sit right with the adult. “After I eat I’m going to go to bed.”

“You can eat out with us.” Gabe waited as Alex shook his head and went back to eating and working on the laptop. Then he took a step forward in order to physically drag the kid outside because he obviously didn’t know what was good for him. Only the kid twitched the moment he moved, turning to watch him make his way across the kitchen to grab his arm. He vaguely saw that Bee hunched his shoulders and made himself look small, but he was a bit more worried about making sure the kid had fun tonight. “Come on, let’s go,” he said gruffly, pulling the teen from his seat and turning to make his way back outside.

“G-Gabe, I really just want to stay inside,” Alex stated, pulling against his grip. Ironhide frowned faintly at the resistance before tightening his grip. Alex hissed and brought one hand up to try and pry the fingers off. “Ironhide, please—”

When the blond actually managed to get a finger to move Ironhide decided that that just wouldn’t do. If he had to, he’d carry the brat outside to enjoy the Fourth. In fact, that’s what he intended to do. He was turning and moving his vodka bottle to the counter behind Alex when the kid’s eyes widened.

The next thing he knew he couldn’t feel his hand and the wind had been knocked out of him. The sound of shattering glass snapped him out of whatever stunned haze he was in as well as the sound of a horrified gasp.

“I-I’m so sorry! Please don’t hurt me! I di-didn’t mean to break it!”

Ironhide’s hazel eyes flicked to where Alex stood braced against the fridge, which had apparently stopped the teen from backpedalling. For the first time since he entered the kitchen Gabriel recognized the alarms going off in his head as he stared at the pale and trembling teenager, watching him fearfully.

The realization hit him like a dragon-construct. “Shit, Alex, I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, remember how he’d once found Alex unconscious behind the shop, smelling of alcohol and nearly raped. No wonder the kid was hiding. He probably associated alcohol with getting beaten. When the blond flinched at his raised tone, Ironhide visibly took a deep breath and calmed himself. “It’s okay, kid,” he said softly, slowly stepping over the broken bottle and approaching the child. “It was my fault. You aren’t in trouble. It’s me, Gabe, remember? Your pa is locked up behind bars. He can’t hurt you.”

It was a relief to see the tension and fear drain out of the teen and amazing that he didn’t flinch when Ironhide pulled him into a hug. “Sorry,” the kid muttered softly.

“Don’t be. I was the one trying to force you into something you weren’t comfortable with.” He paused for a moment. “Good job, though.”

Alex snorted in strained laughter before shaking his head and pulling back. “I’ll clean up. You can go back outside.”

“Naw,” Ironhide drawled with a smile, catching the small teen’s arm to keep him from going over to the glass mess. “I think I’m done for the night. Wanna go on patrol with me?”

Bee cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “Work on a holiday?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s no good for you to be cooped up in here all night. Might as well get some work done, eh?”

The small smile made the large man feel better for being so blind. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

Ratchet

 

Ratchet was a doctor. A good doctor if he did say so himself. Not the best, but a good one. Sure, he got irritated and yelled at patients and coworkers alike and he may or may not have thrown a few pens or tools, but when people are being idiots they deserve it.

And he will admit that smart people do have their stupid moments. Himself for example. How could he not see what was happening right in front of him? He cooked every single day for his mismatched family, not trusting anyone else to concoct a meal that wouldn’t kill everyone who came within five feet of it. So he not only cooked and mixed the food together into an edible meal, but he also put it away. He knew how much food was consumed and how much was put away for leftovers.

So how did he not notice that Alex was siphoning food away bit by bit and stowing it away like an effing squirrel.

He’d come into the kid’s room, thinking one of his shirts was mixed up with the kid’s clothes. And then he found the secret stash of food in the drawer. Cookies, bread, water, a can of veggies, and other assorted food that didn’t go bad when left out. Ratchet blinked as he stared at the small stash of food, puzzled more than irritated. Why was the kid keeping food hidden? Didn’t he know there was plenty of better, healthier food in the fridge? The kid should be eating more of that anyway given how skinny he was. If he skipped anymore meals he was going to disappear into nothingness, the doctor swore.

Seb stared longer at the small stash of food, wondering what he should do.

“Seb?”

He turned to see the kid standing in the doorway, staring at him in confusion. “What are you…” Alex trailed off as he looked at the drawer the doctor held open and comprehension flooded those blue eyes before he hunched his shoulders and looked away. “I’ll uh… I’ll put everything back. Promise.”

It took a moment for Ratchet to catch up, thrown off guard from Alex’s appearance and the food’s presence in the drawers. “Huh?” he blurted, looking between the food and the bracing teenager. “No, it’s fine,” he assured the kid, surprising him. “If you wanted to keep some food for yourself you could’ve said so.”

“You’re not mad?” the blond teen asked hesitantly, taking a tentative step closer to check and see if what he remembered being in the drawer was still there. Yup. Still food. Still his habit.

Sebastian shook his head and plucked the little baggie with the cookie in it out. “Maybe that you have a cookie of all things in here, but no. Just confused. You know we have a perfectly good fridge out there, right?”

Ratchet watched as Bumblebee hunched over again, refusing to look at him even as he plucked the cookie from his hand and put it back in the drawer, shutting it. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, kid. I want you to eat, remember?” Ratchet’s concern continued to grow as Alex just drew further and further into himself, looking like he expected to be hit or yelled at. It hurt Ratchet a little that the kid thought he was capable of honestly hurting him, but he let it slide for now. “You wanna tell me why you’re doing this?”

Bumblebee shifted his weight slightly and mumbled so quietly that Ratchet almost didn’t hear it. “Habit.”

“Habit?” the doctor repeated.

“Yeah,” Bee nodded, shrugging. “Food was iffy before I came here, so I kept it whenever I could. Made it last.”

Sick understanding flooded the doctor. Of course. How could he have forgotten? Alex went days without eating some times before he came under their protection and guardianship. He could barely handle a single serving of one of Ratchet’s richer meals when he first started eating with them because his stomach was so used to small amounts of food. He literally couldn’t handle large amounts of food. He didn’t have the ability to. Alex had gotten better over the past few months, but he’d barely gained any weight much to Ratchet’s frustration. Not only did the kid eat so little, but he also appeared to have a fast metabolism, burning off energy as soon as he had it. It didn’t make sense to him, but the kid always had food whenever he was hungry, so Ratchet trusted that Alex ate whenever he wanted to.

Which was evident because the kid had a handy stash in his bedroom. The fact both pleased Ratchet and horrified him. Yes, the kid was eating more and yes the kid felt compelled to hide food in the event that he no longer had any. That horrified Ratchet. Kids Alex’s age needed more nutrients and energy because of the rapid series of growth spurts and if they didn’t get the minimum requirements their bodies needed the consequences were most times permanent, especially if this lack of proper nutrition carried over from younger childhood, which Ratchet suspected was the case with Alex.

For the first time since Ratchet met Alex, he looked him over with new eyes. Was the kid this size because his growth was stunted due to lack of nutrition? Oh, Primus, please don’t tell him his Bumblebee was forever kept from his true potential because his fragging human parents couldn’t bring themselves to feed a poor, defenseless child.

Tears nearly sprung to Seb’s eyes as he considered the possibilities before he reigned in his emotions and looked between the drawer and the silent and waiting teen before pulling Alex into a tight hug. Bumblebee was stiff at first, but then he relaxed and returned the hug with equal tightness, highlighting his sharp bone structure.

Ratchet came to a conclusion then and there. “Come on,” he ordered after he released the teen and left the room, heading for the front door.

“Where are we going?” Alex asked as he hurried to catch up.

“We’re going to get one of those mini-fridges. Don’t all teenagers have them?”

 

Optimus Prime

 

Optimus Prime was the leader of the Autobot army, fighting for freedom and for the people that were his to protect as was his responsibility as City-Leader. He was among the most powerful beings in the universe and one of the strongest fighters.

Eric Phoenix, on the other hand, was a man who had been raised by two loving parents, who taught him to respect and protect those in need, doing whatever possible to help even a stranger on the street. The passing of his parents taught him to love and value family and close friends.

The two entities, one with thousands of years of memories and war experience and the other young and fresh, weren’t all that different. To them, Optimus Prime and Eric Phoenix were mostly the same people. He didn’t struggle with his identity like he knew Prowl did sometimes. Or even Bumblebee.

Prowl and Bumblebee and different upbringings and experiences than their Cybertronian pasts, meaning that sometimes there was a conflict of morals and thoughts or even long periods of time in which they went through their Deep Memories and tried to reconcile their present selves with their past selves.

Eric, Gabe, Seb, and Jazz didn’t have this problem. Thankfully, they all fell into professions or lifestyles that complimented their past Cybertronian selves quite well and left little to no conflict when Deep Memories began to integrate with the conscious mind.

But that didn’t mean Optimus and Eric were completely the same. No. There was one thing that completely irked the Optimus side but didn’t bother the Eric side at all.

His inability to wake up with less than six hours of sleep. It was impossible. To a war hardened and battle-ready Optimus it was something that would get him killed. To Eric sleep was something necessary for his functioning. And everyone knew it.

So it was a surprise for him to open his eyes one night and see his alarm clock read 2:33. The complete and utter newness of this experience allowed him to stare at him clock for a minute longer before his sleep-fogged mind wondered why he was awake.

Blurry eyes scoped out his bedroom. Was there someone in here waking him up? No. It didn’t look like that.

Maybe someone was breaking into the house? Eric strained his ears and when he didn’t hear anything he buried his head back in his pillow, ready to go back to sleep. Then the distinctly Optimus side of him growled that it was better to check the security of the base then have an assassin slit his throat in his sleep. Eric sighed but ultimately agreed with his paranoid side. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Lethargically, Eric slid from his bed and exited his room. The first stop was to check the living room and check to make sure the front and back doors were locked. When that wasn’t the problem he moved to check on the other inhabitants of the house to make sure they were okay. Ratchet and Ironhide proved to be sleeping away, but Gabe was snoring up a storm. Eric thought for a moment that the snoring might’ve been what had woken him up.

Then he opened Alex’s bedroom door and felt a sharp fear tug on his spark, reminding him of the sensation that woke him in the first place. There was nothing on Alex’s bed. No pillows, no blankets, no books. Everything was scattered on the floor around the bed. The only thing that was on the mattress was Alex himself, curled up in a painfully small ball, whimpering and holding himself tightly.

“Alex?” Optimus whispered, stepping into the room and hurriedly approaching the teen. When there was no immediate response Eric knew it was a nightmare or some sort. Carefully, he leaned over and shook the teenager’s shoulder, growing more worried as his spark mate’s fear and terror leaked over into his spark through their fledgling bond that was inherent in all spark mates. “Alex, wake up.”

He shook the teenager’s shoulder once more before jumping when Bumblebee suddenly lashed out with a desperate cry, blindly tearing the hand from his shoulder and kicking at Optimus, forcing him to take two steps back. “Bu—” Eric stopped mid-word as he watched his spark mate scramble back away from him, hugging his knees to his chest and staring at nothing with wide vacant eyes. It took him all of a second to recognize the behavior.

It was the same reaction Alex displayed right after he was found unconscious behind the shop. That first day whenever Bumblebee tried to sleep and continuously had nightmares, he always did that same thing over and over again. He removed anyone within touching distance of him, not wanting to feel the nightmare’s touches, and then pulled back as he struggled to tell reality from nightmare. Back at the shop, there was no need to ask to know what the nightmares were about. The same applied here.

Pain stabbed through Optimus’ spark as he dropped down to a knee, trying to make himself smaller. A part of him wanted to go to his spark mate and hold him, but he feared how Alex might react to a male approaching him while he was on his bed. “Bumblebee,” he called softly, hoping the designation would help him remember where he was. When the teen just sat their frozen, Optimus physically had to hold himself back from moving. “Bumblebee. My spark mate,” he tried again in their native language and this time got a twitch. “You’re safe, Bumblebee. I swear. No one will hurt you. I won’t let them. Can you look at me, my spark?”

When wide, light blue eyes locked onto his and recognition slowly dawned, Eric still waited for permission from the teen to approach him. The Optimus side of him, though also in pain from seeing his spark mate like this, knew that Bumblebee was a dangerous Spec Ops agent with his own scars. Bumblebee could be deadly when provoked and only Bumblebee knew when it was safe.

The silent beseeching hand reaching for him was enough permission for Eric and he scooped up his other half, cradling the smaller body protectively. “It’s okay,” he murmured into the head of blond hair as thin arms wrapped around his neck. “It’s okay. He’s not here anymore. He’s gone. I’ve got you.”

And as silent tears began to stain his chest, Eric cursed the human for wounding his spark mate, for wounding the warrior that had been through thousands of years of war. It was unforgivable to both Eric and Optimus.

 

Bumblebee

 

Each day was a new one. Honestly, that’s how I dealt with life. I didn’t worry about tomorrow or next week or the next year. I just focused on getting through each day. It had worked well for me so far. It let me get through my parents well enough, got me through the revelation that I wasn’t human, and through my harassment at school. And it also led me to my family.

I was lucky. I knew that beyond a doubt and I would never wish for anything else or let anything else take my family from me. I had people who really cared about me now. They worried about school for me or if I was working too hard. They made sure I ate enough. They wanted me to know how to defend myself. They wanted me and that was more precious than anything in this universe.

I glanced around me as we walked through the mall, looking at my family members before smiling to myself. There was nothing else in this world that I wanted more than to stay with these people.

My eyes caught sight of three people as I made sure that everyone was still with us. My gaze stuck on the trio as the mother pulled her toddler from the stroller and grinned brightly, dropping a kiss on a chubby cheek before handing the child over to the father, who then set to tickling and making the child laugh. For a second, tears touched my eyes and I mourned my loss of that before I scolded myself for wanting more than what I’ve got. I’m lucky. I shouldn’t push it.

“Everything okay, Alex?” Eric tightened the arm over my shoulder and I easily turned to smile up at him, forcing back what little tears there had been.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I answered smoothly, wrapping my arm around his back as we continued walking. Any sadness fell away when I felt my spark mate lean down and press a kiss to my hair. I grinned even as I pulled away a little, making sure we didn’t get any strange looks for the display of affection. Our relationship might be accepted in our family, but outsiders might see our age and think differently. Better to be a bit distant in public than to have CPS or cops showing up at the house.

Optimus grimaced a little, but nodded slightly in understanding, releasing me entirely so I could drift through our group freely. As I fell in step by Ironhide, the large man smiled warmly down at me, Ratchet on his arm. “Hey, kid,” he greeted, using his free hand to gently knuckle down on my head.

“Hey, Gabe,” I replied back, playfully swatting at the hand and letting my blond older brother reach over and fuss with my hair. “So I’m still not allowed in the store?” I asked, just making conversation.

The guys needed some games from a shop at the mall. Seb called them adult games and Prowl fussed and agitated at the mere idea of me going into that store while they bought a beer pong set or whatever else because it also had more “vulgar and adult products”. You’d think they were selling dildos in there with how prissy Prowl got. I’d been in there before. Yes, there were some not-so-kid-friendly gag jokes, gifts, and products, but it wasn’t that bad.

Gabe glanced briefly at where Jazz was talking animatedly with Prowl before smirking, “If you can get past him you’re welcome to come in, but you know how he gets.” I sighed and nodded, but I wasn’t all that put out. It wasn’t that big of a deal and if it made Prowl feel better than who was I to try and work around him. I’d tried that once anyway. He’d literally towed me out of that store and lectured me on something. I wasn’t really paying attention, boggling over how he’d seen me and how he’d managed to drag me like I was a sack of potatoes.

“I’ll be over by the plants,” I told him, nodding to the pair of potted plants opposite of the store. Gabe nodded and I parted from the group as they entered the store.

It wasn’t going to take that long for them to get their prank materials and games, but I pulled out my phone anyway and tried to entertain myself, but, with no other friends to text or apps that held my attention, I eventually put it away and watched the people walking by.

It was then that I caught sight of the little boy nervously standing slightly out of sight behind a cardboard cutout of a model. A small frown touched my lips as I watched the boy for a moment as he hunched in on himself, watching the passing adults with wide, teary, fearful eyes, shying back whenever someone got to close. I looked around briefly, hoping to see a parent heading in the child’s direction, but there was no one.

When the kid fully disappeared behind the cutout I sighed and decided it was better to check on the kid then to leave him on his own. Glancing over at the store my family was in to see if they were coming out, I headed over to the cardboard cutout.

The little boy jolted and whimpered when he saw me and I smiled easily, crouching down with a good distance between us. “Hey, little man,” I greeted carefully, purposefully projecting a relaxed and happy air. “You alright?” He didn’t say anything, but looked around frantically. “Where’s your mommy?”

And he promptly burst into tears.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. You don’t need to cry.” Reaching out, I gently pulled the kid into a hug.

“I-I-I don’t know where mommy is,” the kid stuttered in between his sobs.

“It’s okay, kid. We’ll find her. I’ll help you.” I briefly considered getting mall security and dropping the kid off with them, but figured I could try and find his parents first. “Just calm down, okay? No more crying.” The kid sniffled and pulled back, looking up at me with dark green eyes. “Where did you last see your mommy?” I asked gently.

“I don’t know,” the boy whispered looking around the huge hall and the stores with lost eyes that were getting teary again.

“That’s okay, that’s okay,” I rushed to soothe him, hoping to avoid more crying. “What does she look like? Long hair? Short hair? What clothes was she wearing?”

“Um. S-she has long brown hair. Uh. She’s uh…She’s wearing a green shirt and the red scarf I made her.” He looked around hopefully, trying to spot the woman he described. “She’s really pretty.”

“Alright, that’s good, kid,” I murmured, standing up from my crouch and looked around for a combination of brown, green, and red. I frowned when I still could spot anyone after a while. After thinking for a moment I uneasily decided on a course of action. I didn’t really want to move far from where the kid had hidden because there was a chance he hadn’t wandered far from his mother before getting scared, but I could at least walk up and down this wing of the mall and look into the stores.

“We’re gonna find your mom, kid. Here, come with me. We’ll go look.” The boy looked at my outstretched hand uncertainly before looking back up at me.

“My daddy told me never to go anywhere with a stranger,” he told me plainly and I smiled, happy he wasn’t so gullible even if it made my task harder.

“That’s good. That’s a very good thing to know. But do you want to stay here alone or come with me.” Fear filled those small eyes and I wondered briefly what I could do to comfort the kid. Finally, I crouched again and pulled my phone out of my pocket. “My name is Alex, kid. Alexander Steek. You don’t have to tell me your name. But you see my phone?” He nodded, looking at the held out technology. “If I do anything you don’t like you call 9-1-1, okay? 9-1-1 always makes sure that kids like you never get hurt by strangers and the second you call them you’ll be safe.” I briefly hoped he didn’t get it in his head to call 9-1-1 on me because I scared him or he wanted “help” find his mommy. But I let him take my phone anyway, smiling when he clutched it to his chest like it was a treasure. “You ready to find your mommy?” I asked and this time I got a nod.

On an impulse, I slid my hand under his arms and lifted him high, setting him on my shoulders. “Keep an eye out for your mom, okay, kid?” I asked, holding his legs as small arms and my phone pressed to my forehead.

“Got it,” the little kid chirped back and I started walking. A glance back at the store showed that my family was still taking their time. They could always call or text me if I was still gone by the time they finished.

I slowly paced down the wing, keeping an eye out for colors and a panicked parent. After a few minutes I was turning to pace down to the other end of the wing when I heard a female voice desperately call out, “Michael!”

The little boy on my shoulders jumped. “Mommy!” he cried out and I turned, reaching up to grab him even as I spotted a women in green and red and a man in grey rush over to me. They hurriedly snatched him from me and didn’t pay me any attention as they fussed over their child, cooing and berating the kid even as they hugged him and told him they loved him. The kid, Michael, soaked it up with a wide grin and a laugh, clutching to his parents.

Job done and getting uncomfortable with the family display, I quietly turned and walked away, heading back to the plants I was supposed to be waiting at. I sped up my pace when I saw my family looking around bewildered and worried in front of the store. They looked relieved as I waved and caught their attention, walking over to me.

“Where’d you go?” Jazz asked as we all formed our group once more.

I shrugged and stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Just helped a kid is all. You guys get what you wanted?”

Seb nodded. “Yup.”

Jazz grinned mischievously as he clutched his bag closer. “We’re going to be busy for this next week.” I rolled my eyes and smiled, following them as we began to make our way through the mall and back to our cars.

At least we were until a young voice called, “Alex!” I turned with a frown, just barely seeing a streak, before something hit my legs. I stumbled briefly to keep upright while looking down to see Michael hugging my leg desperately.

“Kid, you shouldn’t run from your parents,” I scolded him as his parents rushed to catch up to their son. “That’s how you get lost.”

Michael looked sad for a moment before holding up something for me to see. “But you forgot your phone!”

I smiled and chuckled quietly. “Thank you,” I told him honestly. “That would’ve been a bad thing to lose.”

“Are you the one who helped him?” Michael’s dad asked.

“Alex, is everything alright?”

I looked over my shoulder briefly to see my family milling behind me with worried and confused looks. “Yeah, everything’s fine. This is just the kid I helped. He was nice enough to give my phone back,” I explained for the benefit of both parties. Michael fairly beamed.

Then I was being hugged by his mother.

I stiffened and surprise and shock even as she thanked me over and over again before releasing me and hugging her son again. Even the father nodded at me gratefully before scooping up his child, holding him tight and lecturing him about wandering off.

I stared at the family of three in shock before a touch on my shoulder jolted me out of my daze. I spun to see my family watching me closely. “I’m fine,” I blurted, stuffing my phone into my pocket and sidling over to Eric’s side and under his offered arm.

“You sure?” Gabe pressed.

“Yeah,” I breathed, glancing over my shoulder once. “Yeah, just…just happy for the kid.”

Eric’s arm tightened on my shoulders. “He’s lucky you were there.”

“He’s lucky his parents cared,” I muttered quietly before looking around when my family reacted to my words, realizing I’d actually spoken aloud. “Uh…”

I grunted as I was suddenly swept up into a bone-crushing huge. Gabe shook me slightly side to side. “We love you, kid. We really do.” My body relaxed and I dropped my head onto his shoulder.

“Love you guys too. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“Group hug!” Jazz cried and suddenly he was hanging onto my back. Ratchet snorted derisively, but he came over and hugged as well and my face flushed when Eric and even Chase came over. We were creating a very odd scene in public between all grown men. After a moment, I grinned as Gabe suddenly dropped me and we all stumbled back, trying to keep our balance. My blush slowly died and I resolved myself not to care as I slid into Eric’s side again.

Everyone could stare and whisper how they like. I was the luckiest person in the universe, but it was nice to be reminded of just how frickin’ lucky I actually was. And I loved every little reminder: from the smiles, the touches, the chats, the arguments. They loved me and I loved them. Words didn’t convey that as much as that hug did or even a look between anyone of us. I found that I valued the little things the most when it came to this family and I would never do without them.

 

 

CtF

 

So there you have it. At one shot. I always like looking at Alex from an outside point of view. Just to get an opinion from the other characters on what they think of him and what they think is going through his head. Not to mention I love family fluff.

Anyway, a little update on the Chasing the Flame Sequel. It is a little over halfway done now and it’s just a couple thousand words away from being as long as Chasing the Flame. So you can imagine how long this one is going to be and there is hardly any wasted space or useless chapters. Everything is constantly moving in this story with angst, drama, action, and, of course, Bee Whump. I think I might’ve gone a little too far on Alex in this one actually. Whoops. (^U^);

I don’t know when I’m going to finish the story since I’m in classes and in the process of moving on top of having a job so that’s fun. I write every morning for as long as I can.

And I left mention of Bee’s new ability if you guys caught that. It’s going to come to serious light in the sequel. Bee is an empath. I won’t explain in too much detail what that means since I go into that topic in the sequel, but just know that Bee’s ability to sense spark presences and some emotions is not as normal as he thinks. It’s unique to him and maybe one or two others.

I’ll see you guys soon.

Be sure to leave a review and whatever ideas you think would be great to have in the sequel. I’d love to hear them and take some inspiration. Bee is being a little too angsty right now and is being difficult to write.