Fandom: Transformers/Movie-Verse

Title: Their War, Our World

Author: Dex

Characters: Sam, Mikaela, Bee, Miles, Trent, classmates

Pairing: Sam/Mikaela

Rating:

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, nor the settings. Please don't repost. Flames will be ignored.

Summary: Everyone finds out about the war. And that Sam owns an Autobot...

Author's Notes: Request fic for rosieknight. Request was: Sam and Mikaela's classmates find out about the Autobots, the Decepticons, and the war.

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Their war, our world...

I hear it whispered, pointed stares sent in my direction, chassis shuddering as I realize it means that they know everything. About me, and Sam, too, although even he knows little. Tyger Pax, for example. No one knows about that.

Yet.

And some of the looks aren't that bad. Some range from curious to appreciative. Some are full of longing. Either Sam will be far more popular, or far less popular, after today. While I gather he might have cared about his status more before he'd met us, from his tone of voice, when he speaks about the cliques I can tell it still matters. He protests, but he does care. Doesn't everyone to some degree?

I give a small sigh once everyone else is gone, considering taking a drive, even a short one, but it's too dangerous. If everyone does know about Sam, the information has to be on the internet. A quick scan shows that I am listed there, as are the others. Some who haven't landed yet, and I feel what Sam what could 'a chill', metal cooling in an instant, far too quickly for my comfort. They already know more than I thought possible.

I call Sam's cell, leaving him a quick text message, telling him that he can come out if he needs. It's the gentlest way I can think of to suggest that he does come out. An alert is sent to my system, telling me that Sam has received the message within a minute. He doesn't come out, or even respond to the message.

The school feels quieter today. Not that I can hear much from out here. I could if I wanted to, but listening in seems less important than contacting Optimus Prime, and the others. Before I have a chance, Prime comms me. The conversation is brief; I take care of Sam, and they talk to Keller about damage control. Although given the fact that everyone already knows, it is impossible. How can there be any control when so many of them are aware of our existance?

The situation seems all the more dire due to the fact that there is nothing I can do, at least now. If I move at all, however, I confirm who I am. Better to stay still and even silent. At least I have access to the internet, which is always amusing at the very least.

Except now, apparently. Murphy's law - what can go wrong will go wrong. For example, I need to relax, and the one way I can is through surfing the internet to keep my mind off my problems. Of course, the only thing anyone is talking about on the internet is me and my kind - and the problem's we've caused.

I need Sam, because with him, I can leave without being completely obvious. I text him once again, and this time get a rather annoyed response. I can tell, because it's shorter, much more curt, than most of his messages. I assume that Sam has been harassed.

Sam comes out, holding Mikaela's hand; they both look pale and shaken, sliding into the front seats, her in the passenger and him in the driver's seat. "They know." Sam's voice is dull, and he flinches as my engine bursts to life. We pull out, his hands on the wheel, gripping tightly.

"I know." I speak softly. The rest of the drive is spent in a heavy silence, one that I don't break although I could easily turn on the radio and break this pained stillness. I can hear Sam and Mikaela's breaths, the way their hearts beat slightly faster. Sam's hands are sweat-slicked, making my wheel sticky. It's an unpleasant sensation, and one that I happily focus on. Better that than what we will do when I get Sam home.

Sam's parents are waiting when we arrive. His father is standing with one foot on the grass, and I crawl up into the driveway, parking, shutting off the engine. I allow Sam and Mikaela to remain inside, possibly brooding. Finally, they exit, the car door shutting softly. I do my best not to listen to the hushed whispers, the fingers that are jabbed in Sam's direction, the way Mikaela shuffles around, apparently trying to be the voice of reason as her expression is the only one that remains calm.

In the end, Sam shouts out a threat, although I'm only half paying attention to what he's saying. He leads Mikaela back to the driveway. Soon enough, they're back inside, and at least I know they'll be safe with me. I only wish his parents knew as well, and the thought upsets me as we pull out of the driveway. Clearly, Sam has no intention of staying at his house tonight.

"I can find a reasonably priced hotel." I offer it, already finding the best price for a decent place to say. The government will pay for it, as we have a credit to use, within reason of course. This is, I believe, completely within reason.

Sam merely nods, and Mikaela grabs his hand.

"You heard them?" Sam finally speaks, his voice low and hoarse.

"A little." I pause. "I didn't want to intrude."

Sam lets out a small little sigh; Mikaela's free hand is tracing patterns on the inside of the passenger seat window. "Thanks." It's Sam who speaks again, his voice still tired.

I finally turn on the radio, something with a fast beat, turned down low. At least it breaks up the silence, the understanding between us that things will get worse, far worse, before we can even consider them getting better.