Title: Whistling in the Dark
Author: BlueLunacy7
Chapter Warnings: Character death, Suicide, childbirth, references to sexual acts, strangeness and confusion
Pairings: None at the moment but future Sam/Bee (of course)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Transformers live action-movies, novels of said movies, Transformers: Exodus or Transformers Prime or any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form. Basically, nothing you recognize is mine.
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Prime Directive 1: Same as it Never Was
Everything that has a beginning has an end. I see the end coming. I see the darkness spreading. I see death... and you are all that stands in his way. -The Oracle, Matrix Revolutions
Confidently, Bumblebee walked down the dark hallway, passing the rusting empty cells, knowing down to his last circuit there was nothing here in this almost empty dungeon that would pose any threat to him. He'd been decent fighter before he had been forced to embrace the dark glory of Dark Engergon and now he was powerful, strong. Even the huge sentries guarding the last and only occupied cell let him through without comment.
The cell was small, dirty and covered in rust, a startling contrast to the prisoner it held. The mech inside was beautiful with metal skin that glisten in colors of blue-black and silver, gleaming in the low lights as if recently polished, decorated with faint knot works of lines, symbols and glyphs. Ratchet, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had designed that frame from schematics to forging, creating a living work of art in Bumblebee's optics. Even as he admired the beauty of that lithe frame, Bumblebee was seized by the impulse to claw that gleaming metal, to leave scratches in that lustrous paint and now, he wasn't one to ignore his impulses.
Not anymore.
The dark sky was beautiful, a velvety black dome with stars scattered across its surface like glowing diamonds. Above the horizon line appeared to be gleaming pink cloud with shimmering patches of blue and green. It was a nebula, a star factory, recycling the dust and gas of dead stars into hot newborn stars that may one day support a planet with life. Life rising from the ashes of death, the symbolism would have been uplifting at another time, if he could feel something besides crushing grief and numbing sorrow.
His name was Paradox Prime and for vorns now, he had been held prisoner in this dark and rusting dungeon, never offering any resistance, never trying to escape. So passive the guards had stopped checking him for weapons long ago, believing there was no longer any reason to for him to fight, no reason him to try to escape, not anymore.
Just as he wanted it.
The Great War between Autobots and Decepticons was over, but neither side was victorious. A greater threat had been exposed in the course of the fighting, one that threatened all life in the universe, revealing a terrible truth: the war had been purposely planned from before Megatronus Prime killed his brothers and became the Fallen. Megatron's lust for power, the launching of Allspark into space, Sentinel Prime's betrayal, the destruction of Cybertron and the desperate search for Energon, all of it had been planned.
"Enjoying the view? I chose this particular cell specifically because I know how much you enjoy looking at the stars." Paradox didn't react to once-loved voice that disturbed his thoughts, keeping his optics focused on the beauty of the nebula even as he felt those now-clawed fingers scrape along his skin.
"It's almost time, He is nearly awake and then every creature living of this universe will be consumed." Arms embraced Paradox from behind in a lover-like fashion, claws wiggling under his chest plate caressing the sensitive panels and wiring beneath. He couldn't stop the shiver that wracked his frame as he remember the excruciating pleasure and agonizing pain the once gentle hands of his former guardian had inflicted upon him, eliciting a dark chuckle, "We're going to make history end and you will be mine."
"Not in this lifetime."
"Really?" Bumblebee purred as he wrenched something painfully inside Paradox, "I remember you on your knees, begging so prettily for my life scout, willing to do anything to save me, even offering up the Matrix. I remember the look on your face when you saw that I was alive and well."
'No, not well.' Paradox's spark twisted as he remembered how weak he had been. Within the reflection of the window, he could see the familiar face of Bumblebee over his shoulder, who he had secretly loved before everything had gone straight to hell. Even now, he was surprised by how heartbreakingly normal Bumblebee looked, just like the 'bot he'd fallen in love with, the only hint of something being wrong were the optics that now glowed a lurid violet.
It was the sign of the Darken, of one who imbibed Dark Energon, the powerful, corrupted version of Energon, an emanation of Unicron. The Darken were stronger, faster and much more aggressive as Dark Energon filled their mind with sinister thoughts, making them an evil, twisted version of whom they had once been and, like Unicorn himself, they thrived on pain and destruction.
"When one becomes Darken, the person you knew is dead." As Optimus had once told him, "You are facing the monster that killed them."
'Optimus… big brother, I miss you so much …' Optimus, Ratchet, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Arcee, Wheeljack….so many killed in that useless war or now Darken …. 'And it's all my fault, if I was stronger…'
"No weapons... No friends...No hope." His tormentor whispered into his audios, interrupting the guilty spiral of his thoughts. "A little sip of Dark Energon and you can have everything back." Every time he came, it was always the same plea, for as a Prime, Paradox could not become Darken by force. No, he had to choose his own damnation, "We can be together, just as we should have been."
"All right." Paradox whispered tiredly, his voice horse from disuse. Stepping out of the embrace, he turned fully to face Bumblebee, "I'm tired, tired of fighting, tired of everything….At least I can be with you until everything ends."
With a smile of pure joy that made his spark ache for times gone by, Bumblebee handed him a Dark Energon Cube. It was smaller than a normal Energon Cube was, for not much was needed to corrupt someone. Without hesitation, Paradox downed its vile contents. Dark, twisted energy slammed through him in a rush of agonizing pleasure so intense that he could no longer stand.
"There we go." Arms held him as tremors wrack his frame, "There we go, don't fight it."
"Close your eyes, Bee." Paradox whispered and trusting that the Dark Energon was corrupting Paradox's systems, Bumblebee did so without questioning why.
Certain Bumblebee couldn't see what he was doing; Paradox opened a special storage panel with in his frame, retrieving the Matrix. His captors had taken it from him when he was first imprisoned, unknowing it would return to its Keeper eventually. The moment it's arrival, he began working on a plan that would free both him and Bumblebee, a plan that would cleanse those inflected with Dark Energon and halt the Awakening.
The Dark Energon began whispering to him, before his systems could purify it, filling him with doubt. He hesitated, staring at the face of Darken Bumblebee for a moment, remembering the first time they had met, all the time they spent together as friends and how his feelings grew from love of a friend to a different love all together. He had hidden those feelings, unknowing a similar change was taking place in Bumblebee.
'Why didn't you tell you loved me, Bee?' he thought, cycling his vents, 'Why did I have to find out after the Dark Energon twisted it into obsession? So much time lost…'
The Dark Energon dangled a new future with Bumblebee in his mind, of them together. Paradox saw it for what it was: an illusion, a Dark Energon dream, a hope that would never come true on this side of the Well of Sparks. Knowing he had no other choice, he plunged the Matrix into his own spark. Bumblebee opened his optics as Paradox fell to the floor.
"Why did you do this? We could have been together!" Bumblebee's screamed into Paradox's beatific face as he tried to pull the Matrix from his spark and failed, "Why do you still fight? Why?"
"Because I love you." Paradox whispered as he felt the power quickly build inside him. Those words weren't spoken in either the Autobot or Decepticon dialect but in a language of now lifeless organic planet circling a dead sun that had once been his home.
As Primus' essence contained inside the Matrix met his spark, there was a soundless explosion of light, bursting forth like a star going super nova that moved out in a purifying wave, cleansing those touched by Dark Energon. The last thing Paradox saw, the reason he had waited so long to implement his plan, was Bumblebee's violet optics turn blue as the Dark Energon was cleanse from his systems.
Glorious radiance engulfed Paradox, blinding him to everything, but he heard Bumblebee's voice, screaming a name he'd never thought he would hear again, a name that followed him as the light faded into darkness. A name he had once been called long ago, before he became Paradox Prime, last of the Primes and Keeper of the Matrix.
"Sam!"
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He drifted in the darkness, feeling the sense of himself begin to slowly crumble and disintegrate, tumbling into that black infinity. Curiously detached, he reached out to them, feeling those parts slide away like water in a stream. It was then he realized those pieces were being absorbed into a cloud of light and stars in breathtaking colors, which swirled around him in warm welcome. Stars that were once familiar and unknown but it didn't matter as he felt himself start to merge with them, becoming a part of something greater, a feeling of warm peace and love filled him.
All are one.
It was at that point he felt a tug.
He ignored it at first, basking in the warmth and love and peace but it became more insistent, pulling him away. No, he didn't want to go, he tried to sink deeper into the stars but the tugged became a yank and suddenly he was moving away from that lovely warm cloud, falling backwards pulled by something stronger than he was like gravity pulling water down a drain.
Too fast, much too fast he was being sucked into something and everything blurred as he was hurled into a maelstrom of sensation, every glaringly bright and painfully loud. As soon as tumult began it faded, he realized just how small he was, how very weak and so very tired. He felt himself being wrapped in something soft as he was lifted up and cradled.
That's was when he heard a panicky voice asking, "What's wrong? Why isn't he crying?"
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October 10, 1990. 7:45 am.
Judy Taylor was tired, sore and currently plotting to kill someone as she laid on the hospital bed in one of those horrible backless gowns, staring unseeing at the TV. However, whether she'd kill was her sister Julie or the attending nurse was still up for debate. Right now, Julie had the edge at the moment if for no other reason that Judy was sure she could get Julie to come close enough for her to strangle when she came to visit tomorrow.
She'd give Julie the benefit of the doubt; thinking that her sister didn't want to scare her with 'Tales from the Birthing Room.' However, her well-meaning-but-lying sister had told her that while strenuous, childbirth wasn't as painful as the books and movies made it sound and the most she would feel was a sharp pressure when the baby was born. Seeing that Julie was the mother of three, Judy figured she knew what she was talking about when it came to spawning.
'Pressure my ass,' Pressure didn't come close to describing the sensation she'd felt, 'maybe in bizarro world there's just pressure but here on earth squeezing something the size of a watermelon out of an opening the size of a lemon does not fall under pressure.' Maybe if the epidural had worked the way it was suppose to, she would have felt just 'pressure' rather than the Oh-my-God-just-kill-me-now-pain, which was why the nurse was on her hit list.
After anesthesiologist had given her the epidural, the attending nurse had sat her bed up so she could socialize. So all of those lovely, pain-killing drugs had gone to her feet, 'which would have been great I could have had the baby through my toes.' Unfortunately, the kid's point of exit was higher than that and by the time it was realized that the drugs weren't working, she had been too far along for the doctors to give her more. The nurse had meant well, she supposed, wanting her to be comfortable as she spoke to her sister and boyfriend as they waited.
'You are never going to touch me again Mister, unless it's for oral or a hand job.' Judy glanced over to the sleeping form on the birthing room's fold out bed. She was probably going to say 'yes' the next time he asked her to marry him. He'd asked her several times before and she'd always said no, happy with the way things were.
It wasn't that anything wrong with him; he was cute with dark hair, brown eyes and charming smile. She called him her big teddy bear because of his burly build and he was also sweet as could be if a little strange at times. His family was a bunch of lunatics, 'But so are mine, come to that.'
No, it wasn't Ron that made her hesitate. She did love him; she wouldn't have lived with him for eight years if she didn't. Nevertheless, her parents had loved each other until things went sour and ended in divorce. Love changed and faded, she didn't want that to happen to her and Ron nor did she want to put her child through the same upheaval her parents had put her through as a child.
That brought her thoughts to her baby, her son. She looked at the clock, it had been four hours and 45 minutes since she had given birth and he was whisked away to the neonatal unit for observation. Upon hearing that, Judy had felt like throwing up as the worry twist her stomach. While she had no experience with newborns, she knew that when the doctors took the baby away for 'observation' it was not a good thing.
She also knew that newborns cried when they were born...unlike hers.
Every movie and TV special showed that newborn babies screamed their little heads off once out of the womb but her baby had been silent when they took him away. The doctors wouldn't say anything but she knew something was wrong, just as she knew it was her fault. Judy's head fell into his hands as guilt and worry hit her hard, her body shaking with silent sobs. She wanted to scream at them to tell her but at the same time she didn't want to know how she had hurt her baby before it was even born.
While not the hardcore partier some of her friends had been, she drank more than she probably should have in the very early stages of her pregnancy, completely unaware of the new life growing inside her. She had never been regular, so when 'Aunt Flow' failed to visit, she didn't think anything of it. The queasiness, lack of energy and desire to sleep all the time were thought to be signs of too much partying or a virus taking hold. Thinking she caught something from her sister's children, she took some of the antibiotics the doctor had given them in an attempt to help her body's immune system. With five minutes of taking them, she threw up so violently she was convinced her stomach was trying to escape through her mouth.
That was when she scheduled a doctor's appointment and learned she was twelve weeks pregnant. Twelve weeks. With that knowledge, she stopped drinking cold turkey and never drank another drop. For the rest of her pregnancy she drank water, fruit juices and ate nothing but wholesome and nutritious foods in the most well-balanced diet of her life and took the vitamin supplements the doctor recommended without complaint, all in desperation to reverse the damage she might have inadvertently done to her child.
She'd love her baby no matter what, but she'd never be able to forgive herself if there was something wrong.
She'd even picked out a name already, Samuel. It was the masculine version of her grandmother's name, who Judy had adored until she passed away in her sleep at a hundred and four. Like a magic charm, she hoped that some of Granny Samantha's good health would rub off on her great-grandchild who now shared a version of her name. The sound of the door opening got Judy's attention and the sight of the nurse pushing a wheeled bassinet pulled her thoughts out of their depressing spiral with such a hard jerk that she almost didn't the hear the nurse ask she was alright.
"Yes, I'm fine." She hastily wiped away her tears with back of her hands. She gestured to the bassinet that was now so close to her bed, afraid to peek inside, "is he…"
"You have a perfectly healthy son." The nurse beamed as she looked inside the bassinet, "The observation was just a precaution."
"Can I?" She asked holding out her arms as relief flooded her; there was nothing wrong with her Sam. The nurse picked up the small bundle swaddled in a soft white blanket from the bassinet and placed it into Judy arms, helping arrange the new mother's arms so she could correctly hold her baby.
"Would you like me to wake your husband?
Judy didn't bother to correct her, "No, let him sleep. Sammie and me are going to have some Mother-son time, yes we are."
Judy was in love as she gazed down at her son. It was obvious to her that Sam was the cutest, most adorable baby that had been born ever. He had a head of thick dark hair that stood straight up from his scalp, her own little punk rocker and his face didn't have that wrinkled; almost smushed look, with more defined features than other babies did. His eyes were a clear, bright blue that certainly didn't come from her side of the family. It was odd but he didn't stare at her blindly but instead his gaze was intent, focused as if trying to figure out who she was. That's when she noticed something odd on her baby's pale skin.
"What's this?" It was faint but there, a subtle darkening of pigment on her son cheek, under his left eye.
"It's a birthmark, there's another just below his elbow on the inside of his right arm." The nurse explained, before leaving the mother and son alone with instructions to press the call button if anything was needed.
A birthmark, a simple discoloration on the skin and was completely harmless but something about it made her uneasy. Troubled for some odd reason, she unwrapped her son just enough so she could look at the arm in question. There it was, just as the nurse said it would be, a small faint smudge just below is elbow on the inside of his right arm. "You have all sorts of interesting marks don't you Sammie?"
One of those tiny, fragile hands reached out to touch her chin; she took it and placed a kiss to the small palm.
"Ma…ma."
Judy froze at the name and looked at her son, "What did you just say?"
Sam looked at her with those pretty blue eyes and stated solemnly, "Mama."
"Ho~ly hell." She murmured without considering that the curse words were in the presence of a child as she stare at her baby in part wonder, part pride, and part awe. Sam was a newborn; all the books said the closest they got to vocalizing anything was crying. He wasn't even old enough to start cooing yet never mind actually speaking.
"Ron…Ron!" She yelled as loudly as she dared at the sleeping man, not wanting to upset her son but wanting to share the marvel that was her child with someone and who better than his father? When Ron's only response was to roll over, she wiggled the pillow from behind her head and threw it at him, "Wake up!"
"Huh!" Ron snorted awake, blinking blearily at his surroundings as he mumbled, "What? What's wrong?"
"Come here," She told him, "the baby just said, 'Mama'."
Rubbing his face groggily, he got to his feet, "Judy, the kid's not even a day old yet-"
"Just get over here!"
Curious about his newborn son any way, Ron obeyed and went over to bed, "Hi little guy." He greeted the infant softly, "Your mama's a little loopy cause of the drugs she has in her-"
"I am not." Judy snapped, obviously not amused with his attempt at humor, "I'm telling you, he called me 'mama'."
Deciding to indulge his girlfriend before she threw something else at him, something harder and would do more damage than a pillow, he nodded, "Okay, Judy, if you say so.
The baby suddenly curled one small hand around Ron's finger with surprisingly strong grip for something so tiny and fragile, "Daddy."
Ron stared at his son in shock, not really believing what he had heard and responded with an intelligent, "Whoa."
"See? I told you." Judy crowed feeling vindicated as well as surprised by her baby's obvious intelligence, "Give Sammie here a few more hours and he can drive himself home."
He just starred at the humans who held him, who looked like his parents but knowing it was impossible. Stared at the way the light glinted off his mother's red hair, at the way his father's eyes glowed when he looked at her. With less grey in their hair and wrinkles on their faces and younger than he remembered, they looked like Judy and Ron Witwicky, his parents, his human parents who had been killed by the Decepticons in retaliation for his actions during the Battle of Chicago. He hadn't been listening to their words and had spoken to them in shock because it couldn't be them. They were dead, he saw the bodies, clinging together in death, knew their bones were dust on a dead planet…
Ron voice finally penetrated his bewilderment, "Is he supposed to be that ugly?"
"He is not ugly!" Judy snapped back, cuddling him closer as if to shield him from those words.
"He's all red and wrinkled."
"He is the most beautiful baby boy in world," She told him with a mother's conviction, "which you could see if you hadn't forgotten your glasses."
"I had to get your stubborn assin the car. Besides I don't need glasses to see that he looks like he's been in a hot bath for too long."
"Oh, shut up before you give him a complex." She scolded before cooing, "Don't listen to him, Sammie, your father is just an idiot, yes he is."
Primus, it was them. Feelings of bewilderment, joy, sadness collided with each other in a confusing maelstrom and he couldn't help but start crying softly. He didn't understand what was happening, why it was happening. Somehow, he'd ended up in the past, back when he had simply been Samuel James Witwicky.
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Author's notes:
*Cackles evilly* Yes, yes another fic. Blame Dark of the Moon.
For everyone that was confused, Paradox Prime is Sam Witwicky (basically Bot!Sam)
As for the whole thing with Matrix reacting the way it did *does best Jetfire impression* It was never designed for that purpose, but it's an energy like no other.
I've wanted to write a time travel fic in the Transformers universe for a while now. However, rather than have a controlled journey into the past, I decided to have Sam just flung there without any planning or knowledge. Adds a whole new level of mystery don't you think?
Thanks for reading!
-BlueLunacy7