Fragile: Tears

26. Tears

I'm sorry, Prowl.

The words echoed in his processor over and over, almost taunting him. Vaguely, he saw Ratchet's mouth move and heard Optimus behind him, but neither mechs' words registered. All he could see was the memory of just a week ago, of the tiny spark he'd seen next to Bumblebee's own, answering his pulses of love with smaller, affectionate ones. That couldn't be gone. Prowl was almost completely unaware of the world, the other two mechs in the hallway, even his own body until he felt strong servos grip his shoulders and keep him from falling completely over. Slowly, his senes returned to him just as Ratchet was beginning his explaination to Prime.

"--een meaning to tell ya for the past week, but..."

"He lost it?" Prowl didn't care that he'd interrupted him or that Prime was having to help him stand. He had to confirm it, had to hear it from the medic himself before he would believe it. Ratchet locked optics with the ninjabot, offering a sympathetic yet pitied stare. That told him all he needed to know. A soft, pathetic sounding keen left his vocals as he shuttered his optics, further confusing Optimus. What was going on? Who lost what? Prowl managed to stand on his own pedes, shrugging Optimus's servos from him, and once again found himself staring into Ratchet's face, trying to swallow the emotions wanting to burst free, "Why?"

"I don't know, kid. I haven't had a chance to examine the protoform. I only just finished soldering his plating meaning he's still in stasis and doesn't know yet," Prowl felt his spark stop. Bumblebee didn't know, and the very thought of having to tell the yellow mech made him sick to his tanks. He was going to come out of stasis, and the first bit of bad news he was going to get was that their sparkling had offlined before it had a chance to live..

Ratchet placed his servo on Prowl's shoulder, gesturing back towards the open doors. "You can go in; I'll give you a few kliks alone while I explain to Optimus." Prowl nodded, numb. He stepped through the doorway as though he were walking in a fog. The slight hiss behind him as the doors slid shut snapped him out of it. Over on the berth, Bumblebee lay unmoving, various wires connecting him to a machine monitoring his vitals. Prowl started to walk over to his mate when he noticed a large screen blocking his view of the other berth. That hadn't been there when he first brought Bumblebee in. What was Ratchet trying to hide?

Curious, Prowl walked over to the screen and peeked around it. Only to wish he hadn't. He didn't have to ask to know that the tiny lump under the tarp was the deactivated form of his sparkling, a small pool of energon and oil forming from underneath. A single, sharp click emitted from his vocalizer as he turned away from the screen, half-stumbling his way over to the berth occupied by Bumblebee. Standing at the berthside, Prowl clasped one of the scout's servos in both of his own, running his thumb gently along the yellow digits. A light gray scar on Bumblebee's abdominal plating caught his attention. Ratchet had said he'd just finished soldering the plating; of course, he wouldn't paint over it just yet.

One servo left the scout's to rest over the only evidence Bumblebee would have of their sparkling's fate. There was no way in the Pit he could let Bumblebee see the image on other side of the screen that would haunt him for stellar cycles to come. How on Earth could he tell him? 'Why, Primus? What did we do?'

"Prowl." The cyberninja didn't jump as he thought he would when he heard Optimus's strict tone. Turning, he faced his leader and the medic standing beside him, sorrow clear on his faceplates. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I tried. You kept saying you were busy. I gave up after a few days and decided to wait until you were through."

"This shouldn't have waited, Prowl. What if this hadn't happened, and Bumblebee hadn't been so sick? It could've been worse," In his ranting, neither mech in the room noticed the soft hum of systems coming online, "I could've sent him on patrol without knowing he was carrying. He could've gotten attacked by Decepticons and would've lost the sparkling that way."

"Wh-what?" Hidden by the ice-blue visor, Prowl's optics widened as he turned his attention back to the mech in question, full of dread and loathing for his leader's big mouth. Bumblebee's optics were wide in shock and disbelief as he looked between Optimus and Ratchet to Prowl. Boss-bot didn't even know he'd been carrying. Had Prowl told him while he was under Ratchet's care? Or had the medic finally gotten fed up with the two of them waiting? And what was this frightening nonsense about losing the sparkling? Propping himself up on his elbows, he stared at Prowl intently, optics shining with desperation and hoping to Pit that what he'd just heard wasn't true. "Prowl, it's not true, is it? B-Boss-bot is just..." He saw the cyberninja's gaze shift almost imperceptibly downward and followed it.

"Bumblebee, don't..." Too late. Vents hitched, optics wide, mouth hanging open, Bumblebee's spark very nearly shattered at the sight of the scar on his abdomen. Servo trembling, he ran one yellow digit over the line. It shouldn't have been there. It's presence meant something had been removed, and that was the area of his gestation chamber. However, the removal of the protoform was only the least of his fears. He couldn't sense the sparkling's spark anymore. The bond between creator and creation was gone. How could he have not noticed before?

Strong, warm arms wrapped around him, bringing him back to reality. Bumblebee lifted his face to meet Prowl's, a subtle shaking rattling his frame. The yellow mech began speaking, his voice breaking on every other word, "B-but that's not fair. It...it can't be g-gone...We just found out. It..." Bumblebee's shaking grew more pronounced, clicks and whimpers filling the gaps between his words. He buried his faceplate into Prowl's chassis and held onto his arm as tight as he could. Prowl, visor narrowed near to slits, turned towards their leader who was looking rather ashamed of himself for blurting out what Prowl should've told Bumblebee himself. The glare he received from the black-gold mech was intimidating but nothing would ever make him feel worse as hearing the near muffled words that left Bumblebee's vocals next, "It's my fault."

Questions. Crying. These things Prowl had expected and braced himself to handle. Bumblebee blaming himself for the sparkling's termination hadn't occured to him and therefor, he was unprepared to deal with it. Harsh clicks filled the otherwise silent medbay, the yellow mech crying into Prowl's chassis. He knew he should be saying something, anything, to comfort his mate, but nothing came. He was at a loss on what to do or say. To his own horror and disgust, Optimus spoke first on the matter.

"Bumblebee, there's no way this is your fault. These things happen and--"

"Optimus, you've done enough damage. Leave." Prowl's ice-cold tone kept him from retorting. Helm hanging in guilt, Prime left the medbay, intent on getting to his office and thinking on what had just occured. Maybe he'd slam his processor in the door for good measure. Ratchet sighed, coming to stand by the grieving mechs. Prowl was trying desperately to calm his bondmate. Stress was already apparent on the dark grey faceplates as well as exhaustion. The medic didn't dare to disturb them though. He only nodded to Prowl to continue to his efforts to comfort Bumblebee.

Ratchet made his way over the screen, checking to make sure the view of the berth was completely blocked off. Venting a sigh, he pulled back the tarp. The protoform was barely even formed, structure wiring and underdeveloped circuitry creating the general shape of the sparkling but not much more than that. There was nothing more than a partially formed sparkchamber sporting slight burn marks giving Ratchet suspicion as to how the little Autobot had gone offline, but he'd need to examine it before he could be sure. If nothing else, he at least owed Prowl and Bumblebee a medical explaination as to why. Maybe he could've saved it. Primus knows he would've tried.

-------

"Prowl?" The gruff voice pulled him from his slight daze. He needed rest, his systems running on whatever power his megacycle of stasis had given him before the disaster, but Bumblebee needed him more. The yellow mech had long ago cried himself into stasis, his faceplate settled into a troubled expression. Prowl was still holding him in his arms on the berth, one servo absently rubbing soothing circles on his back. The cyberninja looked up to meet Ratchet's optics, noticing immediately the datapad he held in front of him, "I think I know what happened." Prowl's optic ridges raised in curiousity, Ratchet's sign to continue. Clearing his intake, Ratchet looked back over his notes one more time before addressing the ninja again.

"From the burn marks on what there was of the sparkchamber, I'd say the sparkling was moved down into its protoform too soon." The confusion that crossed Prowl's face forced him to continue, "If you'd read that datapad I gave you, you'd know this. A sparkling's spark usually does not leave its carrier's until the protoform is finished which typically takes two orbital cycles."

"So, it moved down to its protoform too soon. Couldn't it have adapted?"

"Maybe. If it's spark chamber had been completely finished and strong enough to survive without drawing energy directly from Bumblebee's spark. That's the thing. The sparkchamber wasn't finished, and I don't think the sparkling was anywhere near strong enough to survive." Ratchet sighed, laying the datapad facedown on  a cart nearby. Prowl was still trying to comprehend the medic's explaination.

"But why? If it wasn't ready, why did it try join with its protoform?"

"That's the one I couldn't figure out and probably never will. This sort of thing doesn't happen often, one in every ten carrying mechs or femmes, so no medic's ever been able to determine a definite cause. It could be any number of reasons. The sparkling could've been weak and doomed from the start, the protoform wasn't forming correctly, or there might've been something about it Bumblebee's spark rejected. Only Primus knows the real answer. Sorry,  Prowl, but you two are just gonna have to accept what happened." Prowl grit his denta, trying not to lash out. He knew Bumblebee wasn't going to accept this answer. He would probably still blame himself, and it would take Prowl who knew how long to convince him otherwise.

"Will he able to have another?" Prowl asked, trying to distract himself.

"Yeah. He'll be able to carry another. The chances are slim this will happen again. Even with carriers that have gone through this, it's not been known to happen more than once. Like I said, give him a few weeks, and you two can try again." Prowl nodded, some hope working back into his spark. It would be awhile, he knew, before Bumblebee would be ready to try for another sparkling. Until then, he would need all the support he could get from Prowl, Sari, the entire team. Even Optimus. Once he learned to control what he said. "You look like you need a good, long stasis nap, kid."

"I do, but I'm not leaving his side."

"Then don't. I know that you know you're gonna have to be strong, for him and for yourself, but you can't do that if you're falling over in exhaustion. Recharge in the chair or the berth, I don't care. Just get some rest." Ratchet left to go properly dispose of the sparkling's remains. He highly doubted he could get a ship from Cybertron to cross the galaxy just to pick up a deactivated sparkling. As much as he would've preferred the hospital in Iacon, he was just lucky that he had the equipment he needed for the job. Prowl carefully laid Bumblebee out on the berth, making sure none of the wires connecting him to the machine had come loose before settling himself into the chair beside the berth. Arms crossed, he watched the monitors for a few cycles to make sure Bumblebee was alright. Satisfied, he shuttered his optics, hoping his dreams remained unhaunted as the blissful darkness of stasis took him away.