. ˚✧ "No, you're staying close to me.
My job is to protect you."
"Yeah, well, I'll stay close to you while I kick aft. Now let's go!"
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 a free-spirited princess and a determined soldier embark on an adventure that spirals into...
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 '𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾'
✶ ✶ ✶
𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄 for months was hard, secret to no one. Hardly being able to leave said garage was even harder, the whole robots in disguise bit.
The past few months had been lonely. He missed being with the bots on base like he was during his recovery period, specifically his sparkmate. But currently, his duty was with his charge.
Sadly, Bumblebee couldn't go anywhere freely without Sam's help in months. That made him that much more ready to go with his charge to college. There'd be more freedom there.
That was the case until...
"Here's the thing, freshmen aren't allowed to have cars."
His charge didn't want him to be there anymore.
"Can you just look at me, please?" Sam pleaded as the scout turned his helm away.
"Come on, big guy. Look, the guardian thing is done, okay? You did your job." The Witwicky boy motioned to his perfectly intact body, "Look, I am safe now."
He left his life on hold for this boy.
Sam sighed as the bot sitting in his garage refused to look at him, "You need to go be with Optimus Prime and the others, be with Eclipse."
And this was the thanks he got for it?
"I just want to be normal. That's why I am going to college, and I can't do that with you."
It hurt.
"You'll always be my first car."
✶ ✶ ✶
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒.
It wasn't necessarily the actual impact when her frame collided with the floor, but her nerves lighting up to let her know her frame didn't agree with such actions. That maybe, just maybe, she shouldn't be slammed at the speed of light on the ground.
She grumbled as she stared up at the ceiling far above her. She had lost count of the times she had been in this position, her opponents knocking her down constantly. At this point, she'd find it more enjoyable to watch the fresh paint dry on a certain spot that had been previously hit by a missile after a missed shot than to get up.
"Those rust sticks are lookin' real good right now."
Jazz stood above her, a smug expression displayed in all of its glory.
If there was one thing she hated the most, it was being lesser. Or rather, the smirk the other gave her when they knew they were better.
She supposed that was what led her legs to twist around his and throw her frame weight over to lay flat on her chassis, arms propped up beside her as he came crashing down.
