Author's Notes: I love you guys. Really, I do. The past week and a half has been very trying with my new job and my Grandpa falling terminally ill and I just wanted to let you all how much I appreciate your support with this story and any of my other stories.

Aporia

By Lindsay Smith

Chapter Six: Deny Thy Love and Embrace Thy Death.

"What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies." ~ Aristotle

The streets were alive with energy, laughter, and everything that made the city great. All that had been lost before Cybertron's restoration had been renewed. But Bumblebee felt dead inside. After leaving Ratchet's lab, he sauntered into the nearest pub and began to drown himself in cheap high grade. It was awful stuff, but taste was not high on his priority list. He could still hear the Sparkling's voice crying out at him.

"You promised!"

It ate away at him like acid. He was acting illogically, he knew. He just did not know why. The moment his optics befell the small grey Mech…his spark ached more then it ever had with any of the other Sparklings. His programming logged it as an error and in a very uncharacteristic fashion…he had panicked. For whatever reason, he decided then and there that it was not Sam and it was best for him to leave as quickly as possible. He knew it had been a mistake to have gone there. It was always the same…

"You promised!"

Bumblebee downed the remaining high grade, shuddering at the sharpness of it and allowed the overcharge to sedate his rapidly spinning processor. The numbness helped, but his mind refused to relinquish the subject.

The sound of a disturbed sleep alerted Bumblebee to the open window above. He unfurled himself from his Camaro alt mode and stood too peek inside. Sam's body gave a violent jerk in his bed and Bumblebee pressed himself to the side the house. He was mindful of Judy's flower beds beneath Sam's window. The boy's fever had broken mere hours ago, but now came the more metaphysical symptom of his condition: nightmares. It was a reoccurring event now-a-days as his ailment progressed. His mind was trying to protect itself from what they all knew was inevitable, but did not dare dwell upon. Sam was dieing…and Bumblebee was more then certain he would die with him. Their existence was linked and would be forever until the time that Bumblebee's spark extinguished.

It did not lessen the pain of knowing and being able to do nothing at all to save him.

Bumblebee carefully reached into the room and ran a finger down the young man's back, a silent signal to let him know that he was near and whatever mental monsters were chasing him, they would not harm him. The touch broke Sam from whatever night terror had been plaguing him and he emerged pale and gasping. The particular nightmare must have been most alarming, because Sam did not appear fully in reality quiet yet. He flinched at Bumblebee's touch as if his fingers were claws reaching out to slice him clean through. The scout's hand retreated, not wanting to alarm his charge. Sam did not need any more pain or fear…

"Sam," Bumblebee called softly. Sam's eyes cleared and he was then aware of his surroundings.

"...Bee? Arhg…what was…what happened?" The boy rubbed at one eye with the back of his hand, groggy with lack of proper sleep.

"You were having another nightmare," he said, tone soft and careful as if not wishing to remind Sam of any unpleasant sleep images. Sam was quiet as he sat there in his bed, one arm unconsciously rubbed at the crystal scales on his arm. Bumblebee felt wretched and useless.

"What was it about?" He asked.

Sam did not answer right away. "Monsters," he said finally, but withheld any elaborations. His heart rate picked up again and Bumblebee eased his arm back through the window, brushing Sam's shoulder lightly. Warmness sedated the coldness of the room, making it feel every so slightly less suffocating.

"I'll protect you from the monsters," Bumblebee told him in earnest. "They won't come near you."

When Sam turned to look at his guardian, there were tears in his eyes. "You promise?"

"I promise…"

The sound of metal clashing shook Bumblebee from an apparent overcharge crash. His vision was clouded with error signals and warning banners and he had several messages. He ignored them all and looked around him. The pub was in the midst of a fight, tow large burly Mech going at each other in the far corner while patrons crowded around to cheer, jeer, drink, and be merry. Bumblebee felt like slag. Drowning his problems in high grade. Cheap high grade at that. It sounded so good beforehand, but now he regretted it. His systems ached and protested the smallest movements and his processor was slower then usual. He felt sluggish and in need of several cycles of recharge, despite having doubled his required fuel amount.

"Welcome back to the world of the processor impaired," said the tender behind the bar, leaning against the wall and tossing an empty cube between his hands. "You got quite a tab to pay, kid."

Bumblebee did not say a word, merely slapped down his credits and left. As he meandered down the street, another message joined the others in his HUD.

It was from Ratchet.

Bumblebee ignored it and continued on towards the docks. Only a few more cycles before he and the maintenance crew would ship off again to go repair damaged armada ships. Another orn, another credit; it felt empty.

Ratchet checked the screen for the third time and cursed darkly. Beside him First Aid and Wheeljack were busying themselves with other scans, but Ratchet knew the only one that mattered was the one he was looking at. The scan of Sam's spark revealed much more then the first initial scans. The moment Bumblebee left, Sam went hysterical, beyond anything Ratchet had seen. And then all at once, he had gone silent and limp. His processor had shut itself down to prevent a full system crash.

There was some damage to his processor that was easily repaired, but Sam was not out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot.

The anomaly that Ratchet had ridden off as unimportant a few cycles prior was now very much so. The new set of scans had revealed the seemingly random glitch had morphed into something much more. A broken bond node. Suddenly Sam's behavior made all the more sense that Ratchet felt incredibly stupid for not making the connection. His insecure behavior, his panic attacks…he was reacting to a broken bond. Ratchet had 'felt familiar' to Sam, so in some small way it seemed to have placated the node and made Sam calm and manageable. But when he was not around, the bond node was agitated, making Sam feel panicky and scared.

Ratchet did not have to guess where the bond had come from or why it was broken, he could guess well enough, but the larger question was how could it be if D-17 was not Sam? Bumblebee had said so himself that he was not Sam. Bumblebee was the only one of the Earth bound Autobots to bond themselves to a human, although Ironhide had come very close to doing so with William Lennox. Bumblebee was the only one who would be able to tell if the spark inside a Sparkling's shell was Sam's. He would know instantaneously…

The answered came easily enough as Ratchet considered the situation and he grew angry. He sent several messages to Bumblebee telling him under no uncertain terms that he needed to return to the lab and properly judge whether or not D-17's spark matched the bond node he had created for Sam all those many years ago.

The child's life could very well hang in the balance. His mental health would deteriorate and his body would follow not long after. New sparks were unable to cope with broken bond nodes at such a young age. There were countless cases where a Sparkling would suddenly collapse following the death of a guardian and in most cases the child would eventually die or live on as a mere shell; empty and broken. They were not mature enough mentally or physically to handle the strain. A broken bond node for a Sparkling was very much a death sentence. Had Sam remained unaware of the connection as he had been while at the Foundry, had it remain sealed, he could have lived on not knowing his ailment and only knowing that everything felt hallow and never feeling completed. But now…he was in a very vulnerable state.

Ratchet sent one final, very blunt, message. "Bumblebee's still not answering hails," Ratchet growled when it went unanswered.

"What are we going to do?" First Aid asked. The younger Mech was clearly worried.

"I'm going to go find the glitch and drag him back here myself," Ratchet replied moving away from the table. He paused at the door and regarded his colleagues. "Keep him stable. And if anything changes, call me back. Send updates every quarter breem."

The world was made of white and it was bright. Too bright. Sam covered his eyes and…wait. Eyes? Startled, he looked down at himself and did not see a metal body, but one of flesh and…clothing. There were no gears or servos, just hands and feet and fingers. Five fingers. He got the overwhelming sense that this was right, in as much as switching bodies seemed to be right. His mind felt foggy all of a sudden but before he could muse any further, an urgent need rose up from inside him like a swelling of water.

Bumblebee.

He had to find Bumblebee.

"Bumblebee?" His voice sounded strange in the emptiness of white, but he pressed on. Perception was nil in this place Sam found as he walked forward, but as far as he knew or could tell he was walking in place. Maybe there was no where to get to. There did not seem to be anything here, but white. "Bumblebee!"

There was no echo to his voice either, as if he were shouting in a small closet. Worry crept at the edges of his mind. Where was he? How did he get there? How could he get out?

Bumblebee…where was Bumblebee?

Feeling tired and very much alarmed, like a young child lost at a super market, Sam turned in place, yelling as hard as he could. "Bumblebee!"

Nothing.

"BUMBLEBEE!" Sam screamed again as loud as his voice was capable, but it did not sound any louder then speaking normally. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"I am here."

Sam stopped and whirled around to see the familiar shape of the yellow Autobot, Camaro alt mode discernable amongst his frame. Relief spilled over and Sam ran for his friend. As he reached the Autobot's feet, and for reasons he was not entirely sure of, Sam began to cry.

Little by little, bits and pieces of information and memory began to congeal in his mind. "W-why?" Sam asked between sobs. "Why did you leave?"

Bumblebee did not answer right away, seeming unable to answer as he wrestled with some unspoken emotion. "I don't know," he said. There was a long pause broken only by Sam's sniffling. Then in one fluid motion, Bumblebee crouched down and scooped the small organic up into his hands, bringing his close to his face. His optics were luminous.

"You promised…"

"I failed," Bumblebee said. "I failed to protect you…and then you were gone. I miss you, Sam." Bumblebee's hands came up to curl around the human, warmth radiating from his palms as he cradled his charge. "I miss you every moment I am alive…"

"I'm sorry," Sam said, surprising Bumblebee a little. "I'm sorry I left you…I didn't want to…"

Bumblebee's blue optics swam with emotion. "I know you didn't. But I…"

The boy reached out and touched the Mech's face, brown eyes staring into his blue optics with an alarming seriousness. His eyes lightened and were no longer brown, but green. "I know it's hard…but please," Sam's hand began to ripple like water and suddenly it was no longer flesh and bone, but metal gears and servos. "Please come back. Come back to me…I waited so long for you…"

Sam's face was no longer that of a human, but of a Cybertronian Sparkling.

"Sam…"

"Please," said the Sparkling, "Please come back…"

Bumblebees optics flickered to life and he looked around to find himself in what appeared to be a storage closet. He did not remember how he got there. But he remembered a very strange dream. That in and of itself was odd. Cybertronians did not dream. Or if they did it was not the same as a human dream…and yet it had been so vivid.

His Spark felt strange and an odd sense of desperation and energy, a sense of purpose filled him. Shifting himself into a more comfortable position, his hand caught the side of a crate and before he knew it there came a rattling from above and then was promptly buried beneath falling crates. He struggled to free himself and the noise must have attracted the attention of a passerby, because the door opened just as Bumblebee managed to untangle his foot from the pile.

Captain Nitro stood in the doorway with the air of a thundercloud readying to unleash holy fury. Bumblebee shrank under the overbearing gaze. "You've got some bearings to show up here overcharged out of your processor…"

Bumblebee's demeanor deflated further. "I am sorry sir, I don't know what came over me. I was just…"

"I don't give a slag as to why, but if I find you in such a sorry state again, I'm tossing you off this crew. Prime recommendations be damned, I can't do a thing with you if you can't see straight enough to use a welder without saudering your arm to your aft!"

"Yes sir," replied Bumblebee, trying to appear as submissive as possible. Yes sir, right away sir, I'm an idiot sir, you're right sir, I'm wrong sir, whatever you say sir.

Nitro turned to leave, but paused as if he had just recalled something.

"Oh. And answer your hails already. Someone from the Hall's been calling the docks for nearly five joors looking for your sorry aft, saying you've been ignoring 'em. I don't care what this is all about, but fix it. I'm sick of all those messages clogging up communication lines."

The former scout was caught off guard and seeing the stern look of Nitro's face, he quickly agreed. "Yes sir, right away."

Nitro nodded and turn to leave once more. "And remember, we ship out in a couple joors so be back here by then and be ready to work." He left before Bumblebee could reply.

In the darkness of the closet, Bumblebee was left with only his thoughts. It took very little time before he came to a decision. He knew what he had to do.

Systems stable, spark energy low, but stable…

"Fuel level is low," First Aid said, breaking Ratchet from his thoughts. "Should I give him an infusion?"

The medic looked up from where he had been sitting, looking world wary and strained. The vorns were showing on his face. "There's a spare fuel line in the storage unit. Just give him a little. Too much might shock his systems."

First Aid nodded and made a move to go carry out his task, but paused, sending a concerned gaze over to him mentor. "It's not your fault, boss."

"It doesn't matter," Ratchet replied tiredly. "He's my patient."

Sam lay atop an examination berth, several machine connected to his small body, monitoring every fluctuation of systems. He had been offline for a while to keep his Spark energy from deteriorating any further.

"You couldn't find him anywhere?"

"For all I know he's hiding from me; which in the light of things could be very well plausible. His Captain didn't know where he was and he still hasn't answered any of my hails. I don't know what else to do…"

"Hope?" First Aid suggested feebly.

"I'm not one to put much faith in it," Ratchet replied.

"Well," First Aid said in a somewhat clipped tone, "It's all you can really do, so might as well give it a try…"

He went off to the storage unit to get the fuel line.

The Hall was a symbol of hope and rejuvenation, but at that moment he felt no awe inspiring emotion as he entered the structure. He felt as if the walls were closing in on him and every Mech he passed was eyeing him as if he were some suspicious character in need of being tracked.

Maybe he was. Bumblebee was certain he bore an expression of apprehension. Leaving the docks and arriving at the Hall of Ancients, Bumblebee had been filled with confidence and a stead fast determination. However, it drained away instantaneously the moment he stepped foot inside. Sense the new Allspark's energy had always made him feel wretched. He did not know why exactly, but he could guess. It made him think of Sam and that in and of itself made him feel ill.

During the war, he had lot so many friends and loyal comrades. He had seen many a Spark brutally extinguished right before his optics. Yet none of them had made him feel as empty as Sam's death. He wondered if this was the empty feeling Humans often spoke of when describing the loss of a child. If so, he certainly sympathized. Sam had not been his son, but he had very much felt like a little brother. And as the older brother, it was Bumblebee's duty to see to that no harm befell him.

He felt as if he had betrayed Sam's trust, even when there was no logical reason for him to feel that way.

No one could have told him anything to make it easier. Even Mikeala, while her heart was broken and bleeding, tried to tell him he was not at fault.

Then whose fault was it? Someone had to be responsible for it. If there was someone to blame, it far more easy to direct his anger and sorrow at them then it was screaming at empty air.

"Bumblebee?"

The voice startled him from his musings and he halted mid step, just in time to prevent colliding into Wheeljack. The engineer reached out and grabbed the former scout by the shoulders. "You came back! We've been looking everywhere for you!"

Bumblebee had the good grace to look ashamed. "I needed to think…"

"Yes, well forget thinking. We need you in the lab. Now." Wheeljack turned the yellow Mech in front of him and physically marched him down the hall at a fervent pace. "The kid crashed right after you left and we've been trying to keep him stable since!"

Bumblebee's spark shuddered. "Crashed? Is he…is he alright?"

"He has a broken bond node Bumblebee," Wheeljack said poignantly and with a very deliberate tone. Bumblebee could feel Wheeljack's optics studying the back of his head. "We need you to test again. For real this time."

"I'm sorry about before…I don't know what happened. I just…"

"Panicked? Yeah, we figured. Now stop yapping and move faster!"

The lab looked different then the last time he had been inside. It felt different. It was not so oppressive and daunting, but now it felt aloof and chilled as if all the good feeling had been sucked away, leaving only a vacuum of gloom and doom. And he felt utterly responsible.

The moment he stepped inside and the door closed behind them, a voice rang out from one of the back rooms. "Bumblebee, get your sorry aft over here I have some words for you!" It was then that Ratchet emerged from wherever it was he had been and stomped towards the younger Mech, displaying all the fury and ire he had the energy to convey. "You have some nerve ignoring hails like that you little fragger! I don't care what's going on in that shattered processor of yours but out of all the Mechs in the universe you were the last one I'd expect to see run away from something."

Bumblebee could not argue with the medic. He was right and it made him feel all the worse. "Do you have any idea what your little stunt did to that poor child?" Ratchet demanded.

He did not move and when he spoke it was with the utmost humility and shame. "I have no valid excuse."

"Darn right you don't!"

Wheeljack then stepped between the two. "Alright, I think we can save the lecture for another time. Bumblebee needs to reestablish that bond now before Sam gets any worse." Ratchet looked reluctant to break off an obviously well rehearsed tirade, but he could not ignore his friend's logic and waved Bumblebee ahead of him, giving him a well earned shove in the shoulder to get him going. Bumblebee needed no prompting and went along with the others towards the back.

Sam was offline, his small body connected to several monitors and a fuel line had been injected into his side. Guilt swelled deep inside him and Bumblebee sighed despairingly. What had he done?

"Do what you need to do," Ratchet told him sternly and then both he and Ratchet left the room, closing the door behind them. Bumblebee was then left in the small room with the very thing that had caused him so much grief. Grief and joy and happiness and frustration, and laughter, and so many other things. The days he had spent as the guardian of Samuel James Witwicky were happy ones. When he had Sam, War was not the only reality to fill his mind. Sam had taught him that the War did not have to encompass his existence and define who he was. He was more then just Bumblebee the Autobot Scout. He was Bumblebee, a friend, guardian, and brother. He was more then what his designation and function.

It had always amused him the way Humanity put so much focus on trying to discern a reason for their existence, but then turned around and taught Bumblebee that he was not defined by one mere things…they were a wonderful race that way. With all their flaws and primitive behaviors, they were wonderful and wise and young. Everything Sam had been, even if he never realized any of it.

They were an aporia; an insoluble contradiction within themselves. And that made them wonderful.

That made Sam wonderful.

Sam.

Sam.

"Sam…" Bumblebee reached out and tenderly traced the young face with the crook of one finger. "I am sorry. For so many things…"

He began to unplug the monitors from Sam's body, causing them to beep in alarm. Bumblebee pulled the prone form close to him, pressing his face close to Sam's and whispered, "Please forgive me…"

And then, he removed the block on the bond node he had created for Sam, far away and long ago. As he did so, he felt the old fear of discovering this Sam to be naught and it frightened him terribly to the point where for the briefest second he did not want to do any of it. But it was too late and the bond was free. He felt an enormous swelling of energy pour from his Spark like a broken dam and a wave of realization and magnificent feeling washed over him and the undeniable feeling of familiarity and connection filled him to the brink of overflow.

Sam.

It was Sam. His Sam.

He could not speak, he was in too much shock to really think, instead he simply stood there and marinated in the moment and the glorious sensation of the broken bond node being whole again. It was a wonderful feeling. All the anxiety and fear melted away as if it had never been and for the first time in a very long while, Bumblebee felt whole again.

Little arms came up and wrapped around his neck. "Bumblebee…"

"Sam!" Bumblebee clutched the Sparkling to his chest, feeling like he would never let go. Never. Never again. Ever.

"…you came back," Sam's voice was tired, but he could feel the same joy he felt at that moment radiate through his small body. Sam nuzzled his face into the underside of Bumblebee's chin, whirling happily and chirping. "I knew you would."

"I'm so sorry…"

"You came back…so I forgive you."

Bumblebee sat on the berth with Sam curled up in his arms for a long while, basking in the happiness that sang from their bond. They sat together in peace and were happy.

The world felt renewed and promising and Bumblebee knew that whatever came their way in the future, they would make it through together. He felt alive again and Sam finally felt like he was where he belonged and everything was right with the world.

The End.

Author's Notes: I can guess several of you going 'EEEHHHH?!!! THAT WAS IT?!!' but yes. This is the last chapter of Aporia. I had every intention for this to be a relativly short story seeing as I have noticed that if I make a story too long or too detailed in plot, it never seems to get done. Several of you can atest to that. But don't be too bumed. Aproia may be done, but the story is far from over.