TRANSFORMERS: Bumblebee's Boy

GROWING STRENGTH

Growing Strength

"I don't want to go out there, dad."

"Trevor, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Galloway's going to mock me!"

"Yeah, and I'll punt him if he does."

Trevor shifted uncomfortably in the wheelchair that Bumblebee had brought him that morning. His prosthetic leg had been sent out for repairs, and as a result, Trevor needed one to get around. After all, creating, and giving Trevor another on base would take longer than waiting for the repairs to bedone. But, as Bumblebee was quickly learning, the boy was very self-conscious about his now missing leg, and needing this assistance in getting around. Bumblebee sighed, looking upon his son for a moment before crouching low. "Hey, don't worry," Trevor looked over at him. "If people look at you differently, they're ignorant jerks anyway. I mean, remember what I told Galloway?" Trevor frowned. "Everyone here knows about your special needs, and seems to be empathetic to them."

"You don't think they'll look at me weird?" Trevor asked, and Bumblebee shook his head. "I guess I could go out there, it's just... I feel exposed," He admitted. "I'm sorry if I'm being silly."

Bumblebee shook his head, knowing that it was inevitable. He watched as Trevor carefully rolled along and out of his bedroom, trailing behind him protectively. He sure as pit wasn't going to let anyone look at him funny, if they did they'd have him to answer to. As soon as they were out in the main room, Bumblebee was thankful when Ironhide, who was headed in another direction, turned, and greeted Trevor with a simple, and playful. "Hey runt," He pointed at him. "I expect you for weapons training next week. No excuses.

Trevor blinked, admittedly stunned that he had not changed his tune with him at all. But he did smile, taking a deep breath, and turning towards Ironhide. "You got it you old rust bucket!" He shouted, turning the chair with some difficulty. "Why don't we go there today?" Ironhide looked surprised at that, turning his head. "I can still hold a gun!"

Bumblebee wondered how the weapons specialist would react to the test, as the gruff mech looked down at him. For a moment, Trevor tensed up before Ironhide finally chuckled, and shook his head. "With that shooting arm of yours, I don't doubt you could," He replied. "But it just so happens I've got to train some new recruits," He explained. "Ask me again tomorrow. I think I'm free then, if you really think you can handle it."

Trevor's eyes widened, surprised by the reaction that Ironhide had had. But all the same, he nodded his head, and grinned widely. "Count on it."

His eyes traveled up to Bumblebee as Ironhide continued on his way. With a smile that read: "I told you so", he shrugged his shoulders somewhat. "What did I tell you? The wheelchair doesn't make you any less than you were," He explained, pointing at him. "Like it or not, you're still Trevor Prime." He affirmed. "So, you had promised to meet Ratchet. And as much as I'd love to, I can't help you there... I really don't want a dent today," He teased, starting off. "So good luck."

"Dad, he wanted you too!"

Bumblebee groaned playfully, as if he had forgotten before backing up towards the boy. He gave a playful pout, and shook his head. "Done in by my own child," Bumblebee rolled his optics and sulked as they started the walk (and roll) to the med bay. "I swear, sometimes I feel like you're the adult in the relationship." He added.

"What brings you back to reality?" Trevor stuck his tongue out.

"When you act like that," Bumblebee joked.

Trevor shook his head as they finally made it to the med bay and entered, his eyes moving up to Ratchet. The mech was on the other side of the bay, looking over a data pad. "Hey doc bot," Trevor shouted, causing Ratchet to spin around. "You wanted to see me? Please tell me it's not a pop quiz or anything. Because it's Saturday, and I haven't really studied much." He admitted.