Summary: He knew it would happen eventually, but he had been hoping that "eventually" would hold out just a little bit longer. Bumblebee and Raf are growing apart as the human ages. One afternoon, they get into a particularly nasty argument that ends with the boy alone and the bot on the run. Things don't look too good when Megatron enters the fray.

A/N: I know, I know, I have a lot of random stuff up already that I need to update (which I will in due time), but once you get a plot bunny, they don't stop nipping at your mind until you finally give in. Well, this one's had enough time in my brain, so here's something to kick it off. Besides, Prime is in desperate need of Bee fics…I'll be uploading some other starter chapters soon and I will update my other stuff soon.

Prologue

It was like preventing the inevitable. Actually, he was trying to prevent the inevitable. Bumblebee sighed, laying his helm in a servo as he waited for a call from Raf. The boy had aged two years, hardly more than a blink to the scout, and everything had changed so much.

Yes, Raf was still a computer nerd, and Bumblebee was thankful for that, but he was growing up. Raf wasn't interested in Bee's racing games anymore, opting instead for FPS games. While Bee liked some of them (a company called Valve intrigued him to no end), the one game Raf loved above all else was the one he hated most of all: Call of Duty. The scout couldn't help but shudder as he watched Raf go on "missions" within the game. Every time someone was shot, Bumblebee could only be reminded of those he lost, not to mention his memories of Megatron's torture. Absentmindedly, he felt the area around his damaged voice modulator. The thing was, he could talk, but doing so was exhausting and very painful.

Then there was Raf's homework taking away valuable time they could be spending together. Bumblebee spent more time alone than ever before and he hated every second of it. Being alone allowed all those thoughts to resurface, the guilt, the sadness, everything. He had to keep going, be "the kid" of the Autobots; he had to do everything but stop and think.

He had to keep moving or else it would all catch up to him, slamming into him like an unforgiving canon shot. Talk to Arcee, scout with Optimus Prime, play music with Bulkhead and Miko, help Jack with college stuff, fix some of Ratchet's "important" broken equipment; he was desperate for any kind of work or activity. As long as it kept his processor busy, it was fine.

But over time, Bumblebee realized that he wasn't happy anymore. Raf was fourteen now, fifteen in a little over an Earth month, and everything had changed too drastically. The boy had been the scout's constant, his security. Raf was the reason he triple checked his espionage plans on the Decepticons, his motivation to return in one piece. Now, everything slowed down and Bumblebee couldn't live with all the pent-up sadness and pain.

So when their argument broke out, it was simple inference that could predict that the walls came crashing down. Everything that was kept bottled up inside came pouring out and nobody could do anything about it. So he ran away. A spark-broken scout had strayed from the rest.

It's as simple as that.