Author's Note: Thank you all for reading (and reviewing), I hope you liked it, and I hope you enjoy the epilogue. Thank you and goodnight everybody.

After effecting temporary repairs, Soundwave followed the trail left by the wounded quarry to the kill site. Blackened earth and spatters of energon littered the scene of the fight, but the winner could not be doubted. What was most remarkable was, in a way, the kill shot.

A single shot, straight through to the spark.

Soundwave had expected something more brutal, or perhaps a second or third shot ostensibly to 'make sure' but really to vent fury. But this was cold, almost devoid of emotion. It got the job done, nothing more. The body had been left where it had fallen, the Scout appeared to have lost all interest the moment the act was done. The others had left little trace of their presence, but Soundwave made out their tracks nonetheless. They had left the way they'd come, and it did not appear that they had intervened in any way. Cold. That was the only way to describe it.

Soundwave would have expected this emotionless and decisive action of a Decepticon. But not an Autobot. They were notoriously sentimental and ruled by feelings. But not, it seemed, in this instance. This scene did not even hint at anger, much less pity.

Soundwave documented the body, and then left, his mission complete. He filed the events away in his memory like so many thousands of others, a mere footnote in the continuing conflict between Autobots and Decepticons. Never to be forgotten, or revisited.

So far as he was concerned, it simply was. And that was the end of it.

Such was the legacy of Pit Viper, who had, at the last, been defeated by one who was beyond his control. It had been inevitable, Soundwave thought. The only surprising thing was that it had taken so long. It was too bad that he did not extend this thought to himself or the Decepticon cause.

As with so many, Soundwave was blind to things in himself which were obvious to him in others.

Optimus looked up as Bumblebee drove into the base. Ratchet had patched him up, but there were still places that could use a little paint. Bumblebee had picked up Raf after school, as though recent events simply hadn't happened at all, as though everything was the same as it had always been.

It was strange to see such a powerful being behave in such a gentle manner towards a human, incredibly that something so big could have such tender regard for something so small.

But the shift from killer to companion was not so dramatic as it might seem, Optimus knew. Bumblebee's action of yesterday and early this morning were perfectly in line with the activity he was presently engaged in. Being a guardian was a complex affair, which required patience and understanding, but also the ability to engage sudden, savage violence, then return to benign companion. To be a truly effective guardian, one had to be both brutal and compassionate, prepared always for violence, but ever tolerant and devoted to the one whom they guarded.

Optimus didn't know it, but what he thought of as a guardian was something else to humanity. For most intents and purposes, Bumblebee was not unlike a parent. It was never malice that drove his actions, but always the love for and devotion to his nearly helpless charge.

But it was even more complex than that. It was obvious that Raf needed Bumblebee as a protector and friend. Less apparent was that Bumblebee had come to need Raf just as much as the boy needed him.

With Cybertron dead, the Autobots had no home to return to or defend. They needed a reason to go on, to keep fighting for the forces of good. Humanity was that reason. It was their lifeline.

Optimus wondered that he should have forgotten that, even for a moment.

He had let himself drown in the complexities of the war and its history, rather than looking at the simple truth which had been right in front of him every day for as long as he had been on Earth. But because it was there every day, he had grown numb to it, allowed it to slip from his conscious thoughts. It had taken the graphic display of the early morning hours this day to remind him of it.

Bumblebee was an Autobot. Not because anyone had forced him to be one. It wasn't training or force that had done it. It was as simple as the beat of a spark. Bumblebee was an Autobot because he believed. He believed in good. He believed in freedom. He believed in humanity, and his fellow Autobots. And, above all, he believed in Optimus.

It was shocking how easy it was to forget. But the truly terrifying thing was how close Optimus had come to throwing that away. And Bumblebee would have let him, because the Scout believed.

"I'm glad your feeling better, Bee," Raf said, giving the car an affectionate pat on the side mirror.

{There was something I needed to do,} Bumblebee replied quietly, {Something I was afraid to do.}

"But you did it, right?" Raf asked, not seeking any elaboration.

{Yes. It's done now. And everything is okay.}

"That's good," Raf said.

A silence passed between them because nothing really needed to be said. Raf was young enough that terror was fleeting. He had not forgotten the harrowing experience of being kidnapped, but he did not feel like he was in danger. He did not know that Pit Viper was dead. But he had the faith of a child, and that faith told him that Bumblebee would never allow Pit Viper to hurt him again. No matter what. Because he was not an adult, Raf was able to accept it on faith alone, without proof or explanation, that Bumblebee could and would protect him from all harm.

Bumblebee knew that it would take time for the vague sense of unease to go away. It would take time to put back in place the faith in his leader. It would take time for him to regain his confidence in the presence of humans, his trust in himself. But there would be time. In time, he knew that all of it would just be a bad memory, a distant one at that. He knew also that he could choose to let himself be shaken by events, by the words Pit Viper had said to him. He could make that choice. But he didn't.

Instead, he accorded Pit Viper the respect he deserved as a worthy adversary, as well as the disdain he had earned for being the monster that he was. He decided that to over think matters would only be harmful. Instead, he must try and follow the example of Raf.

Sometimes thinking wasn't the answer, sometimes logic just wouldn't do it. Sometimes you had to just have blind faith in something, step out without looking ahead. There were times to have courage, times to be clever, times to be reckless, and times to be patient. And also, there were times to simply accept without understanding or reading between the lines.

Things happened. People lived and died, and the universe didn't change all that much as a result.

In the end, the only thing Bumblebee could do was decide how he would choose to greet events which were beyond his control. He couldn't make the war stop, couldn't end it all by himself. He couldn't make Megatron good. He couldn't stop people from hating, or from being cruel to one another. He couldn't prevent tyrants from seeking to obtain more power than was their right. He couldn't even always see right and wrong, black and white, through the shades of gray.

"Want to go for a drive?" Raf asked.

{Always.}