Summary:
You could say the cup was half full for Sam Witwicky. You could also note the small bullet holes halfway through the cup that had drained the missing half. This is not your extremely usual Sam/Bee fic, I Promise.
Disclaimer for readers: This is (eventual) Sam/Bumblebee slash. If you don't like that pairing then this fic isn't for you. Granted I don't really mind flamers but eh…just trying to give you a heads up here. Also there will be mild violence (such as cutting and robot carnage) to be sure
Copy right disclaimer: I own very few things. The characters and "world" represented in this fanfiction are not one of them.
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Sam Witwicky was going through a series of stages. The first of which was denial and he was fairly certain that the curtain would never close on that act.
Sam didn't know what to think, or which sentient being to believe. No.. that was a lie. He Knew Bumblebee was telling the truth…he just wished he didn't. He wanted desperately to believe that Mikaela wouldn't do a thing like that. However, he knew in his heart that when it came to the truth…he'd always believe best friend over his girlfriend any day. No, not his girlfriend, his ex-girlfriend, all things considered.
Soon Sam migrated to telling himself that he didn't know how to feel, but that too was a lie. Despair and anguish washed hotly over his chest, squeezing his heart and causing his stomach to curl. He knew he wasn't always the most faithful and considerate boyfriend, but he felt like that was resolved during the battle three months ago. Didn't coming back from the dead just to say I love you make up for one tiny slip?
Tears fell down his face fast and he began hyperventilating over the toilet seat. He felt a sickness fester deep down and was disappointed when the physical loss of his stomach contents did nothing too diminish his emotional loss. How could she? A gorgeous jock he could understand, but a double traitorous Decepticon? Did she even bother to figure out if that kind of relationship would work out before she…decided to act? How could it even work out? Was he so bad sexually that she decided she could live without that relationship aspect?
He grasped at the toilet roll and did his best to dry his eyes. So much had been taken from him lately that he didn't know how to cope anymore. Everything seemed painful. Like he lost the flower off a rose and all he had left to hold was the prickly stem. His near death experiences, constant fear for his life, and broken relationship weighed on his chest, making it hard to breath.
He struggled to lift himself up, and contemplated giving up until he remembered that Bee was outside waiting for him. The Camero was most likely the only good thing left in is life and right now he was probably outside, blaming himself for telling him about Mikaela and barricade. With a new uneasiness in his stomach he pushed himself up again, succeeding finally, in standing upright.
Sam knew that he should go back out and tell the bot that he had done the right thing and that he would be okay, but the suffocating feeling intensified and pushed him into his room. After pulling his nightstand drawer open he reflected that he would indeed rejoin the Autobot shortly. He just needed something to help him calm down first.
As he reached into the drawer and as his hand clasped around the antique knife he kept hidden there, his ability to breath normally started to return. It was as if he had found new confidence that his reassurances to the Autobot wouldn't have to be a complete lie. Things really weren't that bad where they? He might have lost the girl, but he still had the really rocking car.
Making quick work of the bandages over his right arm he poised the knife over his skin as he deliberated on where to cut. It had been convenient that he had been injured so badly that nobody seemed to question why one bandage in particular had stayed with him.
.
In the past he had been only a minor cutter, and despite the devil that had been remodelling his life lately, it had only gotten a bit worse. None the less Sam had began to rely on the calming effect created by the adrenaline every now and then. Healing wounds simply did not have the same effect.
Still, as bad as things seemed to be now, he knew he wouldn't change a thing. Sometimes he thought that he would have been better off if Mikaela had never gotten into the car. However, when it came down to it, if she hadn't Bee might not still be here, and if it wasn't for Bee…his life simply could never feel as full. He never took himself to be the hero type but, something about the bot and the presence of the others, filled a whole in his heart that had only before been home to a longing loneliness.
For a moment he felt like he could breath again and started to second guess is actions. Above all things he didn't want to feel uncertain anymore, so he continued anyway. He stopped short as he was about to sink the blade down into a partially healed section of skin.
Their was something else inside the drawer that caught his attention…and was it glowing? Yes it was, and it was pulsating for his touch. Even more alluring, was the color it radiated. It touched his heart and reminded him of all his pleasant memories. Having always been a cold metal grey, the object now appeared to be the color of A Cybertronians eyes. Bumblebee blue, to be exact.
***
The yellow Camero swished its windshield wipers in a such a way that anyone, even a civilian, would take as a nervous gesture. The sleek black antennae drooped slightly and the headlights peered forlornly at a second story window as though sensing something was wrong.
By now, the sun was beginning to rise in the east and Bumblebee was struck by how much time had passed since he last talked with Sam. He felt like he should do something, anything, but the only way to reach Sam in his bedroom was so purely experimental that he didn't dare try.
Unease continued to pile upon him as the sun climbed higher. Last night was still a jumble of pain for Bumblebee, and that was only augmented by the fact that he had been the one to make it so much worse for his human. "The Human," he quickly corrected in his data banks.
He was defiantly worried. The past few months had revealed the humans pseudo spark to be comprised of such metal that any bot could be jealous. But what did that account for now? Would courage be enough for Sam when his beloved had kicked him while he was down? And he, himself, was the nark! He had originally thought telling the truth was the right thing to do no matter what, but he wasn't so sure now. Perhaps it was all a matter of time and he had failed his friend by not waiting long enough.
The yellows Cameros engine smouldered as he thought of the girl who was the cause of all these turbulent feelings. Bumblebee had never considered himself spiteful, but he had to bite back an awful amount of it when he thought of the unfaithful human.
Bee wasn't a ignorant. He had accessed the internet enough to know that if there was one thing the human race proved to be fascinated with, it was mating rituals. From studying "porn" a bit he was able to deduce that things between a human and a Cybertonian could be…more then meets the eye. Be that as he may, he just couldn't understand why the girl would risk giving Sam up for that colorless hothead of a machine.
He might not be the connoisseur of humanity, but he was definitely educated enough to know that someone like Sam didn't come along twice in the same Spectral. Just thinking about the boys spark, or heart rather, made his own feel kilos lighter.
His sensors ached as he try to process why she couldn't see Sam like he could. On some level, he knew not to hold it against her. Human beings seemed helpless in choosing their mates, but wasn't Sam easy to love…from a human standpoint? Beneath his anger, he was also scared of how intensely he felt about it. It was as though the young female was squeezing his spark as well.
The relatively young Autobot was snatched from his reverie when a light illuminated the bedroom of Mr. and Mrs, Witwicky. Bumblebee knew for a fact, through Sams complaints, that the boys parents were in the habit of waking him up at 7:30am sharp. Ron was apparently in the mind that doing so would make it easier on Sam when the time came for him to return to college and Bumblebee secretly agreed.
The Autobot wouldn't have long to wait now. Soon Sam would come running out of his front door…just as he always did. Today would be no different, because as much as Sam was hurting Bumblebee knew he would feel infinitely more comfortable with him then with others. His engines hummed gently as he reflected further on his close relationship with the boy, no man, that he had dedicated his life towards protecting.
Using his tracking sensors he followed Mrs. Witwicky though the house. His spark grew lighter at the prospect of his worries being somewhat alleviated and soon it would float the way it did every time he would he saw Sam.
Two seconds later he regretted that lightness. Judy Witwickys' scream dropped his spark down so far and so quickly, that it felt like his own treads where crushing it as they peeled away.
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Review…if you wish for the story to continue. Not to be a hound but if its not fun, why write?
Also. I already have the next chapter done so if theirs a lot of interest for this story, ill continue it right away ;).