Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam Witwicky, Ironhide, OC
Warnings: Part of the 'Magic Touch' Universe. Not canon-compliant with the second or third movies, AllSpark!Sam (yes, it's been done and overdone, but I find it fun anyway. :p
Summary: "Humans don't normally let their kids handle guns..." "We're not humans; deal with it." Or where Sam discovers not all the newly sparked mechlings like him, and Ironhide isn't helping at all.
Headstrong
Sam Witwicky was trying very hard not to scream and make a scene, which was getting harder and harder by the second.
He was getting used to small devices randomly turning into robots by now. After the, say, sixth time, it had become an habit of sort.
Still, it was never pleasing, especially when he was alone to handle the things. Sam hoped it never happened at school.
Granted, none of the 'sparklings', as the Autobots called them, had truly been violents. A bit jumpy if startled, but usually Bee would be around and would calm them easily enough.
And so far, all had seemed to like Sam. But this time...
Well, it had almost been a disaster. 'Bee hadn't been around, and for some reason the cell phone hadn't liked him at all. He wondered if it was reprisal for letting Mojo play around with the thing when it was a normal phone.
Not that he had done so deliberatly; the dog had just jumped on the bed and started to move the phone around with his paws. It was just a game, really. No harm done.
Or so he had thought. Too bad the new sparkling – a mech, from what Ironhide had said – thought otherwise. The situation would have become very unconfortable if he hadn't received backup.
Sam tried not to sigh. Why couldn't newly created Cybertronians be as harmless as human babies?
"Is it really necessary for your species to be armed to the teeth even as… sparkling?"
Ironhide looked down at him, craddling the little mech in his hand.
"Why shouldn't we be? You never know when you will need a gun, after all."
"Humans don't normally let their kids handle guns..." started Sam, without expecting Ironhide to listen to him. He was right.
"We're not humans; deal with it," grunted the large mech while observing the new sparkling.
Sam just sighed again.
Why, why did Ironhide have to be the first one to answer his call when he had called for reinforcements? It would have been easier with Bumblebee. Or Prime. Or even Ratchet!
But no, it had to be the black topkick with the huge cannons. Not that he disliked Ironhide. He sure was grateful for his presence here with him, since he had probably saved him from being killed by someone who didn't even reach his knee.
But trying to get him to see your point was harder than running across a town turned battlefield while being chased by an evil megalomaniacal giant robot who wanted to destroy the planet.
Really, why did they have to be armed so soon? And why didn't he have a way to keep them from using them? He knew their weapons could be deactivate, but Ratchet still hadn't taught him how.
Lack of time from the part of the medic.
Sam couldn't blame him; taking care of ten little beings who had a knack for disappearing if he turned his back on them for just one second wasn't very good for the nerves... or whatever served as nerves.
But he really needed to know, if only to reassure himself he could handle everything alone. He would just have to ask again the next time he saw the medic.
Meanwhile, he could always convince the others to just take their weapons away. Not that Ironhide would really listen...
"Still, they could easily injure themselves," Sam tried again.
"Usually, they injure others people instead," stated the large black Autobot.
He shouldn't have said that.
"Don't I know it! He shot me!" Sam almost screamed. Almost, because screaming at Ironhide wasn't a very good idea. "Don't expect me to be calm about that!"
"He was scared; of course he shot you," answered Ironhide, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But he missed you, so stop complaining," he added while using his finger to pet the helm of the little mech, who was now totally relaxed and observing everything around with wide optics.
He didn't seem to mind being handle by the Weapons Specialist. Sam wondered why. Perhaps he had already 'adopted' him? He hoped not; that thing was already trigger-happy enough without the topkick helping.
Not that Sam minded so much; Optimus Prime would be the one dealing with that later on. He already wished him good luck, because Ironhide seemed to have a personnal interest in this one.
No, the worst part was the soft clicks Ironhide produced while doing so.
Actually, listening to Ironhide producing cooing sounds to bring the former cell phone out of his hiding place was probably the third scaries thing Sam had ever seen; the first being Megatron after him and the second being his mother after he told her he had been part of the battle in Mission City.
The way she had looked at him, then at the Autobots... He wouldn't have wished Megatron to face her like that...
And now that she was getting shooting lessons, it was even worst. He just hoped his Dad wouldn't follow her example.
"We must go now," Ironhide said quietly after letting go of the sparkling.
Sam jumped when he saw Ironhide transform. No atter how many times he saw the Autobots shifting from robots – the correct term was mech, he absently reminded himself – to cars, he couldn't help but just stare at them.
"Get in," came the voice of Ironhide from nowhere.
It was very strange when they spoke while in vehicule mode. If one day Sam could deal with the transformation sequences, he doubted he would ever be able to deal with the voices. It was just... too awkward to be reminded in this way that he was riding in a sentient being.
Sam sat in the passenger seat; Ironhide never let him sat behind the wheel, and he knew better than to argue with perhaps the most temperamental member of the bunch.
A noise made him freeze and he quickly identified the sound of cannons being armed. Peering behind him, he saw the former cell phone looking at him with what seemed to be a big grin.
"Ironhide... I'm more or less the AllSpark, right?" Sam asked quietly, trying not to panic.
"You know you are Sam. Do you still have doubts about that?"
"Less and less everyday," sighed the human. "But that not the problem. Basically, everything I create should be feeling some kind of attraction toward me, right? Meaning, once they manage to get over the first meeting, they're supposed to like me and perhaps protect me?"
"Basically, yes. Or at least that's what Ratchet deduced after the first encounters with the sparklings. You know they don't act the same way around Mikaela or Captain Lennox. We still don't know if they'll all react the same way."
Very true. While the little devils would climb onto Sam's lap as if they belonged to him, they stayed shyly away from Will Lennox and Mikaela.
Ratchet had theorized they recognized Sam as their creator, but couldn't care less about other humans for now; altought the eldest – Miles' motorbike and Mikaela's radio – seemed more and more curious about the occasionnal guests.
"I think we're going to have the answer very soon," Sam deadpanned. "Don't get me wrong, I know I'm not... like you and all that jazz but... now that he has realized I'm not a threat to him, shouldn't he try to at least stop pointing his cannons at me?" asked Sam nervously.
He really hated cannons. Oh, why did he have to leave his bed this morning? Why?
Of course, next to Ironhide's cannons, they weren't that scary; but he didn't want to experience being shot a second time in the same day.
He didn't wanted to be shot ever again, period. Although he knew it would be hard while being a friend of the Autobots and the killer of Megatron.
"I don't think he likes you very much," came the voice of Ironhide. Sam nodded. He had already gathered that, and it was mutual.
But was it him or did Ironhide sound... amused?
"Yeah, I had noticed," Sam said. "I really doubt he's gonna listen to me, but as he seems to like you... Could you please tell him to stop doing that?" asked the distraught teen while crossing his fingers and praying.
"I could, but I'm not sure he would listen. He's headstrong already, this one."
Headstrong was right. Sam thought that could make a good name for the little thing. At least, he couldn't call him 'thing' anymore.
"Don't worry; if he really wanted to shoot, he would have already," he heard Ironhide say.
"For some reason, that doesn't comfort me," mumbled Sam as he kept an eye on the new sparkling.
He just couldn't wait to be safely home with his parents. For once in his life, he was looking forward to doing his homeworks.
At least, the teachers weren't trying to kill him on purpose.
End