Chapter Text
A bug. That’s what you felt like. To live among metal titans, in a spaceship built to their proportions, there hadn’t yet been a day where you weren’t reminded of the giant reality that surrounded your tiny self. Albeit, everything in comparison to space felt small, even sentient robotic aliens built of the height or taller than two story buildings (the majority of the ones you’ve met, anyway). But you, in particular, just couldn’t help but to feel the smallest in almost every way. At this point it was more so the physical boundaries that were the daily feat as opposed to the feeling of doomed insignificance. Keep in mind, that definitely was still there, but at least now it was fleeting and only weighed on your mind on occasion.
Point being: physically, you were small, they were huge, everything around you was huge. It was a fact, and there was only one thing to do about it. Adapt.
However, there was one space where you didn’t have to keep an extra eye on the sky in fear of a foot coming down to squash you: your personal quarters. It was the one place where things were actually proportionate to your species. To your knowledge, it was designed and built by Wheeljack, who specifically commented on how he quite enjoyed using his fingers to meticulously work on the “nitty-gritty details of a human’s abode”. An equivalent idea of someone working on a doll-house came to mind at the time, and he must’ve done some internet surfing when you were near or back on Earth because it was very homey. As human-homey as being in a Cybertronian spaceship could be, anyway. It reminded you of a studio apartment, small for most people but perfect for just you - though you wouldn’t have minded a window or two. Other than that, it was cozy and provided the necessities. There was a bed, bathroom, and a little kitchen that included a stove, cabinets, and a fridge. No table, it would take up too much space for what little room there was to begin with, but that was fine. There was the counter-top or even your bed you could choose to eat on.
It was morning, for you. There wasn’t really a morning or night in space, and it wasn’t like the Autobots had a lights-out protocol. They all had their own scheduled recharge hours, cycled in a way where there were plenty awake at all times. On occasion you would hear pounding footsteps from the hall outside your room, but usually it was quiet save for the constant thrumming of the ship. Last night, however, came with extra noise.
You finished your breakfast slowly, poking at the eggs and vegetables from another planet that you wish you had some salt and pepper to pizzazz the flavor with. You tried to remind yourself that at least this was better than that, for a lack of a better term, nasty crap Ratchet devised. Yes, it served its purpose as proper sustenance so you didn’t starve, but by god did it do your taste-buds dirty. Besides, being able to accompany the bots on planetary exploration was fun. While they searched and mined for energon, you went gathering for anything edible. A handy-dandy doodad on your wrist came equipped with a scanner, reading organic matter specifically for useful and compatible nutrients for a human to consume. Combined with freeze-drying and proper rationing, so far you’ve been able to dodge Ratch’s cooking. So, yes, unsalted eggs and vegetables were appreciated nonetheless.
As much as you’d like to wear sweatpants and some sort of loose fitting top, you had your own type of uniform. It fit snug against your body, made from a deep blue, almost shiny fiber. Definitely gave you sci-fi vibes, but it matched with what was around you - being in a spaceship surrounded by robots and all. It had a practical function as well, serving as the underfit for your space-suit in case you ever needed to suit up in haste.
Giving the toe of your boot a tap against the floor, you then did the same to the other, tying your overgrown hair in the usual bun. There wasn’t a hair stylist in space either, ya know, and you didn’t exactly trust yourself with a pair of scissors.
A deep sigh exhaled from your nose, subconsciously preparing yourself for the cycle as you approached the door. A gentle hiss followed as it slid open, but before you could even take your first step, there was a figure relative to your size, looking human but knowing it was all but. A young boy, an older teen you’d say, with blonde curly hair dark at the roots and buzzed at the sides, speckled warm brown skin, and blue eyed, wearing a suit similar to your own but all black with some deep yellow accents. He greeted you with a toothy smile.
“...Morning, Bumblebee.” There was caution in your tone, but the grin that pulled at the corner of your lips and the arch in your brow said you were all but upset, only slightly suspicious. As you walked out of your room, the door automatically closing behind you, the holoform joined you at your side to begin the journey down the hall. Second nature told you to keep to the wall, it was best to do so to avoid any possible traffic.
“Good morning, how’d you sleep?”
“Well,” you began, sighing conspicuously. “I think we may have a ghoul going bump in the night… Maybe more than just one.”
Bumblebee let out something of an awkward and guilty groan, looking elsewhere to avoid your gaze.
You gave a knowing hum. “Sneaking in time to party rather than recharging again, aren’t you.”
“Okay yes.” He gave in quickly, in fact he didn’t even try and bother to lie. He knew you well enough to know that wouldn’t have worked.
You chuckled. “Was that Roddy with you?” You certainly heard enough tumbling for there to be a set of metallic bodies, and you could almost promise it was Hotrod’s voice endlessly cackling, poorly attempting to stay quiet.
“Yeeeah, primus was he being so loud the entire way back.”
“I heard you well enough too, Bee, you don’t got much room to talk.”
The boy huffed. “It’s been a hot minute since we last had any high-grade - just wanted to have a little fun.”
You didn’t necessarily disagree with him. While they were thousands of years older than yourself, you were aware of who the young bots were, Bumblebee included, and his holoform reflected such. There were plenty of bots on board who were essentially teenagers if not young adults, but they worked long and they worked hard, and no mission was without risks. They absolutely deserved time to themselves, and if that meant spending it with each other getting wasted and playing games then who were you to tell them no. However, energon wasn’t exactly readily available to take leisurely. It was just as strictly rationed as your own food and water intake. High-grade was an especial luxury, and knowing Bumblebee and Hotrod (and you were sure at least Smokescreen was also present in this affair), they must’ve had a considerable amount - enough to get essentially drunk. The thought pegged a question, and you grew suspicious.
“Bumblebee, why are you here?”
He blinked, pulling his head back and opening his mouth to spew some type of baffled nonsense. It took nothing more than a narrowed eyed glare from you for him to rethink taking that approach. “...Please don’t tell Optimus.”
You couldn’t help but to click your tongue and roll your eyes.
“Please? I know we were being loud while going by your room, but I was just trying to get Hotrod back to his own for recharge. And like I said!” He picked up the pace to step in front of you, walking backwards. “We don’t do this often!”
“Yes, yes, I know. Why are you being so defensive?” You were more taken back by his paranoia than anything and wondered why he came to you so suddenly to blabber about this. It wasn’t like you made a name for yourself going around and telling the big boss every little mischief you caught onto.
There was a growing tension as Bumblebee paced backward, you forward, watching him with suspicious eyes. If he weren’t a simulation of a human, you’d be sure he’d be sweating with how nervous he was coming off.
You stopped walking, and a few steps later, so did he. “Where are you right now?” His real body, you meant.
“Combat room. With… the others.”
Your brows popped up, placing a hand on your hip. So not only did they drink, but they did so on a work night. That wasn’t the end of this story though, and you knew it. “And?”
“...”
“Bumblebee.” This time the warning in your voice was real.
“We-” his lips pulled into a frown, and his posture slumped, “We sort of, took the high-grade without… asking? And,” his cringe deepened as he grabbed his hands, palms rubbing together, with this last bit, he mumbled, “most of it may or may not have belonged to Ironhide.”
You huffed. “Oh, I’m sure that’s going over well right now.” You went to start walking again, but the scout moved to block your way. He held up his hands defensively, hesitating, then reached to grab your hand.
“I need your help.”
“Help?” you echoed, “Bee, how am I-”
“There’s a planet we’ll be passing soon, give or take a few cycles, with some awesome terrain to burn rubber on. I finally got Optimus to be cool with it, passing it off as a scouting mission for possible energon veins. But if he finds out what happened I’ll definitely be scrubbing the underbelly of the Ark for hours instead.” Your lips were pursed, still lost with how you had a part in this. “You’re close with him.” Oh. There it was, and it made your chest warm. “Just, if anyone asks, you didn’t hear us passing your room and - maybe, as the cherry on top,” you would have laughed at such a human thing for him to say, “convince him not to revoke the mission if he finds out?”
This whole thing screamed: Mom, please don’t let Dad tell me no.
It almost felt like he was purposely making those baby-blue eyes of his bigger, shimmering as he stared at you with pleading hope. It was a look you couldn’t help but to crack under, and quickly your own features softened. A gentle sigh slipped from your lips. “Okay,” you nodded, and immediately felt Bee’s hand tighten around your own.
“Yes! Thank you!” There was a glitch in his holoform from the sudden overwhelming change in his emotions, his voice momentarily disrupted by an echoing effect and muffled static. “Thank you!”
“Okay, okay. If it comes up, I’ll say something.” You pulled your hand away and stepped around him to start walking again, Bumblebee having an extra pep in his step as he followed. “Honestly, I don’t know why you think I have any greater influence over Optimus.”
Bumblebee held his hands behind his back, a smile on his face now convinced nothing will go wrong. “He listens to you.”
“No more than he does anyone else.”
“That’s not true. I haven’t seen him change his mind as much as he has now that you're around. Much less change in how things run around here.”
This made you stop again, and apparently Bumblebee wasn’t paying attention. His body bumped into yours, briefly giving you a tingly sensation from the impact of his holoform. He looked at you confused.
“He - what?”
The boy cocked his head in the most adorable way, and you might have noted it if not for the explosion of questions and conflicting emotion going through your head right now. “Routine has changed around the ship, is all. Which, like, hasn’t happened in… well, I don’t think it’s ever really happened.”
This didn’t answer your question, if anything it only gave you more. You shook your head, as if to shake off the confusion. “What did he change?”
“We get more recharge time, that’s for sure, and privileges to leave the ship whenever as long as we don’t go too far. Which is awesome when we get a blast of solar waves, augh riding them is so fun.” Bumblebee had a tendency to get off track, but before you had the chance to rein in the ropes, there was a pause in his holoform, his eyes seeming distant. He was back as quickly as he was gone, but his figure started to lose its solidity. “Oh - Ironhide’s getting heated. Gotta go! You remember the plan, right?”
“Wha-”
“Talk to you soon!” He was gone just as fast as he had spoken, leaving you to stare at empty air without a proper train of thought.
Optimus - listens to you? He changes how things go around the ship? Because of you? No way, you couldn’t help but to think Bumblebee was exaggerating. His examples were rather vague anyway, nothing you thought was significant much less of your influence. Yes, you have had conversations in regards to your thoughts on the matter, though it was nothing more than casual chatter that just happened to come up in conversation. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself.
You had touched your cheek, and it was then you realized how warm your face felt. It was enough to get you to pull yourself out of it, clearing your throat and running a hand through your hair. It was no big deal, you told yourself, don’t overthink it. You had a quickened pace in your step, and for half the distance walking down this single hall, you had completely forgotten where you were going.