Transformers Fic: M.E.T.A.L Chapter One: Bronze Part 1/2
Title: M.E.T.A.L
Author: dreamerchaos
Beta: None (at least not right now.)
Warning: Slash, possible gore, and AU. Anyone who knows me, also knows of my rabid fondness for AUs. Mature, and will rate up to MC-17. Be Warned.
Pairing: Primarily BeexSam. SamxMikaela hints. Also non-con pairings, but that will be mentioned in their appropriate settings.
Disclaimer: Transformers is owned and copyrighted by others beside myself. I'm only playing with the boys and girls.
Summary: Sometimes one individual's choices can bring down everything. One action can change the world.
Title: M.E.T.A.L
Author: dreamerchaos
Beta: None (at least not right now.)
Warning: Slash, possible gore, and AU. Anyone who knows me, also knows of my rabid fondness for AUs. Mature, and will rate up to MC-17. Be Warned.
Pairing: Primarily BeexSam. SamxMikaela hints. Also non-con pairings, but that will be mentioned in their appropriate settings.
Disclaimer: Transformers is owned and copyrighted by others beside myself. I'm only playing with the boys and girls.
Summary: Sometimes one individual's choices can bring down everything. One action can change the world.
In Chapter One, rather than face off with Bonecrusher, Optimus Prime maintains his focus on protecting his fellow soldiers, and the organic charges that he has sworn to protect.
In this chapter, there will be BeexSam hints, mild SamxMikaela. In part 2, the main one will be BlackoutxSam (Be patient and wait! There is a reason for this). Optimus will play a role as well.
Chapter One
BRONZE
Part One:
The Past
The battle within the concrete and metal jungle of Mission City had taken its share of oil and blood. Lennox and Sector Seven's teams could only manage to hold back the wave of Decepticons for so long.
Mikaela used her skills to hotwire a vehicle to drag Bumblebee, wounded and paralyzed, from the raging streets, the tow truck barely avoiding the massive craters and twisted metal as she wove the vehicle around the wreckage and pulled Bumblebee out of the Decepticons' range of fire.
Lennox dragged Sam forward, shouting at him to run, ordering the young man not to look back. "Get the Cube into military hands or a lot of innocent people are going to die!"
Starscream roared across the smoke-choked sky, releasing a barrage of heavy fire. Several soldiers were not able to escape the burning thunder that tore them to pieces. A few soldiers, barely stumbling out of Starscream's range of fire, ran straight into Devastator.
Lennox screamed, along with the last few members of his team, repeatedly firing his weapon at the massive Decepticon, uselessly trying to draw the beast's attention away while his companions were crushed within massive metal hands. Devastator roared, flinging his head back, human gore raining from between his clenched fingers. Human civilians screamed in terror as blood speckled their arms and faces, the remains of the soldiers painting the tall building walls.
Ratchet shouted a warning, pushing Ironhide to perform a hasty retreat as Megatron fell from the sky, landing within the tight corridor of the street, sweeping massive claws across the ground, raking aside vehicles and humans alike.
"It's Megatron!" He bellowed, waving the weapon specialist ahead of him to keep going. Ironhide refused to leave his partner, shouting at the medic to "Come on!". Ratchet faltered as he staggered after his taller companion. "Fall back!"
Jazz, cut off by the leader of the Decepticons, stood his ground, firing his gun at the massive monster that swarmed towards him.
Furious at the insect's attempts to hamper his onslaught, Megatron drove Jazz into the ground, dragging the wounded soldier across the concrete as he took to the air, half-turning into his alien jet form. Sweeping through the air like a gigantic bird of prey, Jazz dangled from his grip, helplessly firing at Megatron's limbs in an effort to fall free of the merciless talons.
Ratchet and Ironhide forced themselves not to look back as their companion fought bravely. Instead, they ran alongside Sam, protecting him with their own bodies as the young organic male ran for the immediate safety of the nearest large building... carrying precious cargo, the AllSpark tucked between thin arms, clutched against a wildly heaving chest as the boy ran for his life.
Valiantly Jazz cursed Megatron to the Pit and beyond, screaming as large talons grasped shoulders and legs, beginning to pull steadily. He could feel gears and wires scream in agony, torso threatening to separate.
Just then, before Jazz's body was literally torn into two shattered parts, Optimus threw himself forward from the shelter of an adjacent alleyway and fired two direct shots. Megatron roared, shoulder burning red-hot and abdomen spitting flames as he clutched at the two gaping wounds. Seizing the chance, Jazz kicked straight up, knocked loose. He fell, and with one hand slowed his descent towards the ground by clutching at the building's face, fingers dragging deep grooves through windows and tile until he crashed into the street, stunned but in one piece.
Optimus Prime drew a bead on Megatron, but the shot was ruined as Bonecrusher rammed into him from behind, throwing his aim off far enough for Megatron to duck the weapon's discharge.
One soldier saved, but others soon anointed by whirling blades and flame. Devastator stumbled, momentarily blinded by the white-hot flare from the numerous cannons smashing into his chest. Shouting, the Decepticon summoned for his fellow warriors.
Ratchet and Ironhide, wounded by Starscream's firepower and too far away to possibly assist the outnumbered soldiers, watched in horror as Lennox and Epps fell to their knees, knocked down by the force of Blackout landing and sweeping around the whirling blades of his main heavy weapon. Lennox screamed in agony as the blade ran down the length of his spine, centimeters from slashing into his spinal cord.
Lennox would survive. But he would never be able to walk without a distinct limp.
Epps was far too close to Blackout to avoid critical damage. The blades slashed mercilessly across his face, the heat of the metal burning the retinas of both eyes.
Jazz, barely able to transform from the tension of his strained and bruised insides, managed to cover the long distance, leaping onto Blackout, pounding both fists brutally into the soldier's face. Autobot and Decepticon cursed the other as they stumbled away from the bleeding or dying organic soldiers. Blackout, spitting furious threats, didn't waste any time, and leapt upwards, transformed midair into a MH-53 aircraft. Jazz jerked back, barely avoiding decapitation as Blackout flew over his head, fleeing the vicinity of the incoming United States Military aircrafts approaching the city.
Lennox crawled towards the wounded sergeant, pulling him to safety, laying the man's head into his lap while the wounded soldier howled in pain, tears and blood pouring down his face and ruined eyes.
Optimus and Megatron met head-to-head, metal shrieking against metal. Optimus furiously pushed the other combatant back, hunkering down to protect Sam.
"Sam! Aim the Cube at my Spark!"
"Wh-What about you?"
"NOW!"
Megatron roared like a demon out of Hell, rushing from the opposite flank, hands reaching to tear the Cube from Sam.
Without thinking, Sam fell back, and as Megatron drew close, closer, he thrust the Cube upwards into Megatron's chest cavity.
The Present
Sam leaned his back against the wall of his bedroom, Mojo curled within the blissful warmth of his arms after being given his pain pill for the day. Mikaela sat in the narrow desk chair, absently spinning back and forth as she glanced through one of Sam's Playstation magazines. Both said nothing, simply sitting in close quarters.
He sighed, feeling guilty for not enjoying Mikaela's company; but he couldn't dispel the loneliness of not having his guardian with him right now.
It had already been over two weeks since the Mission City crisis. The American government concealed the truth behind the battle, calling it a terrorist strike. Megatron's body, swiftly hauled out of the public and media's sight, had been plunged into its sanctioned tomb at within the maw of the Laurentian Abyss.
The Autobots met with Secretary Keller and the President of the United States, expressing the need for the government's awareness and assistance against future Decepticon attacks. Realizing how badly they needed the large sentient beings, the President had immediately authorized that designation and construction of a high-security facility to house their alien guests. Optimus Prime and his companions were extremely pleased and grateful for Keller's assistance in providing them with various sites of interest that would not only be completely out of the public's sight and access, but would also provide future opportunities for expansion. If things continued to develop as they were currently, within years the Autobots could possibly build their own city on their new home.
The only downside to all of this was that Bumblebee, like the other Autobots, had had to join their leader in inspecting the possible sites available for the future base, as well as meet with security officials and be registered.
_____
Yesterday
"An entire week!" Sam exclaimed. Bee waved his hands frantically, shushing his outburst, trying to sooth his charge.
"I am sorry. However, my presence is required, as well as the others. Please do not be angry with me, Sam." Bumblebee implored the young man, crouched down to allow for Sam to peer directly into bright blue optics.
"Bee!" Sam stopped his friend, guilt eating at his gut. "I'm not MAD at you. Really. It's just that-" He faltered, suddenly feeling embarrassed, tempted to kick half-heartedly at the dirt beneath his shoes.
'Great, now I feel like a five year old.'
Sam sighed, lifting his gaze and meeting his friend's worried pair. "I'm just...I'm going to miss you. I know it's stupid. It's only a week. But..." He growled, frustrated at how he kept stumbling over every word.
"I came close to losing you enough times already!" He finally admitted, his worst fear bared to the world.
He waited, anticipating-- What? Scorn? Embarrassment? Pity?-- Instead, he was startled by Bee releasing a small soothing electric hiss of unfamiliar lyrics.
'Why Have You Waited
To Embrace Me, My Dear?'
Bee's large black fingers carefully, painstakingly delicate for a sixteen foot autonomic robot being, brushed his cheek, and lightly chucked his chin up from his chest.
'Cold Is Your Silence
Denying What Is Real'
Sam sighed, feeling childish over worrying about his friend. Yeah, like the big guy would get into worse trouble than Sam had ever gotten into in his short life-span. "You'd better not have too much fun without me." He muttered, poking sharply at Bee's large chest. "If you do, I'll...I'll sic Mojo on you." He threatened.
Bumblebee rose to his feet after one last brush of his fingers against Sam's cheek, as if trying to brush the worries away. "If I am authorized to, I could bring back digital scans of the base that Optimus Prime and Secretary Keller will decide to be our future facility.
"While we examine the facilities, you will not be without protection, Sam. Secretary Keller has assured us that officers will constantly monitor both you and Mikaela, and make certain that you will both be safe from harm."
Sam blanched at the though of having to deal with more officers in black, but was excited at the possibility of seeing what the Autobots' future home would be. "Hey, great!" Sam bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, shoelaces snapping together. He paused, suddenly catching a forlorn tone in his friend. "Wait. Why not call it your future home? Won't you and the others have to stay there for a while, at least initially? You know, to make sure the place is up to code and running smoothly."
"Sam." Bumblebee stopped his young charge's babbling. "My home is with you, and nowhere else."
Caught off-guard by the sheer honesty and promise, Sam couldn't muster up the strength to wave goodbye as Bee received a call from Ironhide, indicating that his presence was needed.
_____
Yesterday
"They'll be all right, Sam."
"Wha?" Sam jumped, jerked from his deep thoughts.
Mikaela grinned at how flustered Sam appeared coming from his light doze, his startled jerking motions jolting Mojo awake. The Chihuahua shook his head, ears flopping and bulbous eyes blinking away sleep.
"Mother hen." She teased. "If you don't stop worrying, Bee just might pull a Ratchet and do a complete body scan. He'd probably leave early if he senses how stressed out you are."
"Aww, jeez, bring that up again." Sam mumbled, glaring at Mikaela over Mojo's soft fur, the Chihuahua lavishing his chin with sloppy kisses. "It was bad enough trying to explain to Ratchet that I don't need to be scanned every week to make sure I am a healthy, happy human male."
Actually, Sam had to assure Ratchet daily that, 'Yes in fact it was normal for young males to sleep over eight hours a day. And no, he didn't need any help looking over the food diary' that Ratchet so helpfully downloaded after keeping tabs on Sam's intake. Jeez, like a person can't survive off of pizza and soda for a couple of days. And he had eaten those candy bars because he needed to be a happy boy after getting a healthy — and completely legal! — caffeine-charged high to finish that twelve-page paper for Tuesday's English class.
He still flushed beet red when Ratchet supplied the benefits of daily consumption of fiber and how well human intestines and stomach responded to being frequently flushed clean by the healthy vegetables and beans. Too much information!
Mikaela laughed, his girlfriend's voice beautiful to Sam's ears. "He does tend to take his job seriously." She fluttered her eyes at Sam, cooing in concern. "If you have any problems with 'Sam's Happy Time', I'm sure he'd be able to help you."
Sam flushed red, inciting more laughter as Mikaela teased him. Swallowing indignant sputtered refusals, he grinned right back at her, equally smug. "Careful. Don't forget that I know that Ratchet has scans of both of us, incidentally without any clothing. Might have to ask him for a copy to staple on my walls."
Sam had his turn at laughs, Mikaela flushing all the way to her roots. She mock glared.
"You are both such perverts."
"Don't blame me! I can't help it if Ratchet didn't quite get 'Invasion of Personal Space'."
Mikaela opened her mouth to fire back, enjoying their easy banter, when Mojo suddenly reared up, hair spiking into short bristles as he began growling and barking furiously, facing the doorway. His sharp yaps lifted his tiny body, the Chihuahua snarling at an unseen threat (Or probably a dust bunny, given how spastic Mojo went after being dosed up on his pain pills).
"Mojo! Hush!"
Mojo refused to calm down, leaping from Sam's arms, bandaged paw scrabbling at the wood floor as he bolted for the open door.
"Mojo!" Sam leapt to his feet, rushing after the dog. "Get back here!" He caught sight of Mikaela rising from the chair, obviously about the join him in pursuit. "It's okay, Mikaela, I got it--I'llberightback!" He called back, taking the stairs down two at a time.
"Sam!" His mother yelped from within the kitchen, leaping back, startled by her son's sudden appearance. She hastily balanced the hot pan, the casserole cooling from the oven. She narrowed her eyes at her son's panting face, and then looked at the small swinging doggy door that Mojo had just darted through. "You're not harassing Mojo, are you, Sam? He can't play too hard because of that leg!"
"Mom!" Sam cried. "I didn't do anything. He just freaked and ran from my room."
"Oh that poor baby." She sighed, "Maybe he needed to go to the bathroom. You know how those pain pills mess with the poor little guy." She turned away from Sam, carefully placing dinner onto the wooden stand for it to cool down. "More than likely he's making a fuss because your father is messing around the tool shed looking for some weed killer. Those dandelions keep springing up everywhere!"
"They're just weeds, mom." Sam said, stepping around her as he followed Mojo's mad getaway.
"Don't get me started on the aphids, either!" His mom called after him.
His hand wrapped around the door handle, beginning to turn --
And the door exploded into pieces, sending wood and debris ricocheting.
His mother — falling under the explosive force sending utensils and plates shattering to the floor — echoed Sam's scream. The house's foundation shuddered, dust and grit raining from the ceiling and dry wall.
"SAM!" She cried out.
Sam coughed, rolling onto his side, spitting up dust and dirt. His face stung, splinters pinpricking his cheeks and forehead. "M-mom...y 'kay?" He spat around the grit in his mouth.
His mom began crying weakly, clutching at the bleeding cut upon her temple. "I'm okay, Sammy."
'She hasn't called me that in years.' Sam reached for her, fingers intertwining as he whispered soothing words as his mom cried softly in pain and in shock.
Another explosion in the distance rocked them again. Sam shouted a warning as the windows blew apart, a shower of glass shards peppering their heads and hands.
Ears ringing, Sam couldn't tell if the sonic roar outside was from the explosion or from the telephone poles exploding, wood pillars collapsing raining sparks and creating small pyres in neighbors' yards.
The roof groaned, straining to hold itself together. Beams buckled under the heavy weight sinking upon them, the foundation caving. The entire building couldn't seem to stop shaking. It was like an earthquake held the house tightly within its grip, snapping forwards and back.
One the second floor, a familiar voice screamed in pain and terror. "SAM!!"
"Mikaela!" Sam forced his body past the pain, ignoring the bite of glass and splinters sinking in the meat of his palms. He pushed with his hands onto his feet. "Get outside, Mom! Get outside and call the police!" He barked, holding onto the wall for support and every piece of furniture rocked forcefully towards the right, nearly knocking him onto his rear end.
"Mikaela! Get downstairs! We have to get outside!" Sam shouted, stumbling to the bottom of the stairs.
He made it up the stairs several steps.
A loud roar, magnesium and nova white flames blew apart the hallway at the top of the stairs. Fire licked at the ceiling, wood and dry wall ripped upwards, burning to dust beneath intense heat.
Sam fell and curled both legs into his chest, protecting his head and front.
"MIKAELA!"
Something beneath the house snapped loudly, and Sam couldn't help but picture dry bones cracking into splinters. The flooring buckled geysers of grit shooting between the wood boards. The stairs sank several inches, the middle forming a concave crater.
"...mikaela.." Sam groaned, pushing forward on hands and knees.
Hoping, praying, he looked up towards the second floor.
'oh god no, Mikaela!'
The second floor was gone.
The top of the stairs ended facing the endless nighttime sky, opalescent stars shimmering mutely through the mist of black smoke and glowing red and yellow flames, silent witnesses to the destruction of the second story floor.
A blast of hot wind struck Sam across the face, heat pouring down from roaring engines as the F-22 plane slowly descended from above. Somersaulting acrobatically in mid-air, the aircraft transformed, and Starscream landed effortlessly on the jagged edge of the crumbling building.
Sam fell backwards, and by good fortune was saved by his awkward tumble when Starscream dove forward, narrowly fitting his arm down the narrow expanse of the stairway, missing Sam by mere inches. Starscream bared sharp fangs in a fury, tearing bone-white shards of wood from the stairs as the hand flexed, exerting his frustration at just missing his prey.
"SAMMY!!"
Starscream's head whipped towards the sharp scream, arm rising, the muzzle of the gun flashing up from the compartment of his forearm. He aimed at the female organic visible through the jagged doorway, bleeding heavily and pulling herself up from the kitchen floor knuckles white as she gripped the counter.
Sam screamed, diving forward, aiming to use every ounce of strength in his body to shove the muzzle of the gun off target, away from his mother, at any cost. "NO! Mom, run!"
The suicide rush at Starscream was wasted. Blackout, like a dark vengeful god adorned by metal blades and ivory teeth, tore apart the wall that separated the kitchen from the backyard. Blades spinning, Blackout lashed the length of his arm across the entire expanse of the large room.
Blood splashed the floor, a small surprised gasp falling breathlessly from Judy's lips as her body fell, suddenly so terribly weak. Lacerations covered her from head to toe, a red pool widening beneath her tangled legs as she collapsed. Wet muscles glistened between split lips of flesh, loose pieces flapping, hanging by mere tendrils of skin. The fingers of her hand trembled, stretching out towards her son. Her soft eyes were glassy, bead of crimson dotting her eyelashes. "Sammy..." She whispered, chest heaving to expel the words.
Time fell still and silent. Sam collapsed, falling once more onto his hands and knees. He couldn't tear his eyes away, words escaping him as he mouthed tonelessly, 'Mom, mom, mom, mommy, Mommy!'
Listlessly he felt pain enwrap him around the entirety of his waist, talons curling together and caging him. Starscream reared back, and Sam felt as if he bore invisible wings and flew effortlessly into the sky. Dangling helplessly, unresisting, rising high up above the remains of his house.
"BLACKOUT, DON'T LEAVE ANYTHING LEFT STANDING." Starscream's command, the intent to destroy the last vestiges of the home Sam knew and loved, drew no response from the pale boy; Sam still unable to erase the sight of his mother, such an energetic, bright, beautiful woman, lying pale and broken amid debris and crimson. Her arm trembled, fingers clenching into a fist. 'She's still alive!'
'Mom, get up! You have to run!'
"YOU, INSECT, ARE MORE USE TO ME ALIVE."
A precise touch to the base of his skull, releasing a sharp electric charge, and then everything suddenly cut off
AGONY
and he felt nothing, and---
_____
Somewhere
I...I can't feel anything..
A haze of white and gray floated around him, viscous sea that suffocated the entire range of sight. Darker shadows hovered above him like Leviathans, sliding across the pale sea of white, oil upon water. His back lay on something ice-cold, burning like nitrogen against his bare skin.
Shapes leaned close together, deferring to each other in an alien language. The detached, cold voice — a scientist casually observing his pet project — echoed, as if bouncing off stainless steel.
"SCANS COMPLETE. IT IS CONFIRMED THAT RESIDUAL RADIATION FROM THE CUBE. NO OBVIOUS SIDE EFFECTS TO THE ORGANIC MALE SPECIMEN'S PHYSICAL BODY."
Who's there..
Someone help me.
Bee.
Bee, help me.
"CONFIRMATION SIGNIFIES THAT WE WILL PROGRESS TO THE SECOND PHASE.
"BEGIN SECOND PHASE IN ROUGHLY ONE MINUTE. EXPOSURE TO MY OWN SPARK AND MY COMPANION'S, BLACKOUT, SHOULD PROVIDE ENOUGH RADIATION TO EXERT RAPID CHANGE.
"CHANCE OF FAILURE: 94%. POSSIBILITY OF SPECIMEN'S DEATH: 96%."
Help me...
A large, blue and white sun burst to life above him, burning his eyes and turning him blind and extinguishing the cold that cocooned his body.
"FIRST SPARK IS NOW BEING EXPOSED TO THE ORGANIC. EXPOSURE OF SECOND SPARK, BEGIN."
A second sun roared to life, joining the first. Both hovered above, a pair of burning eyes, tearing open the heavens and scorching the earth beneath.
Pain! Pain beyond imagining, pain beyond description split open his chest. Lances impaled his lungs, pincushioning the spastic rapidly working sacs.
It hurts!!
"SPECIMEN'S HEART RATE NOTICEABLY ACCELERATING. LUNG CAPACITY IS AT ITS MAXIMUM."
Lava and brimstone etched through every vein and cell body, encrypting a patchwork of pain and fury upon his trembling body. Biting with tiny teeth, little piranhas glutting on fresh meat, gumming the bleeding lines of tissue that wept in agony.
"EXCESS BLOOD IS VISIBLE. EVERY NOTED ORIFICE OF THE ORGANIC'S BODY IS NOW EXCRETING COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF FLUID. THE BODY MAY BE REJECTING THE LARGE DOSES OF RADIATION.
"EARLIER ASSUMPTION OF FAILURE: 94%. NEWEST ACCOUNT FOR FAILURE: 99%. POSSIBILITY OF SPECIMEN'S DEATH: 99%."
A fist closed around the fluttering fist-sized muscle beating beneath his rib cage, tightening, and drawing inexorably tight. Like a crimson robin beating at ivory bars, begging to be let free, his heart raced and fluttered.
"SPECIMEN IS EXPERIENCING CARDIAC ARREST." The voice droned, bored by the body's slow death.
Little fire ants, biting, nipping with their tiny pincers, rustled beneath the subdermal layer of skin. Red starbursts dotted the uppermost layer of flesh, nerve ends exploding, veins popping from the rising pressure compacting internal organs.
Pain flooded up his lungs and esophagus, shards of glass slicing him open all the way up.
The pressure was too great. He was going to split wide open.
"WAIT."
One massive convulsion rocked him entirely. He shook, body rolling in a seizure. The pressure mounted, little bombs imploding inside his body. Audibly his body popped, mass crowning, pushing his skin wide open, pushing forward viscous rich oil, coating every inch that it could grasp with thin black fingers.
"EXPERIENCING POSITIVE RESPONSE. NOTE THAT PRESENCE OF CYBERTRONIAN PROTOFORM STRUCTURE IS EMERGING FROM THE ORGANIC SHELL."
Coiled metal gleamed and bursts free, glistening like a newborn, slick edges shucking off loose strips of needless organic flesh.
"CONFIRMED SUCCESS. THE CUBE'S RADIATION HAS ADDED ENOUGH INFLUENCE. THE ORGANIC SPECIMEN'S BODY ACTED AS A CRUCIBLE. WITH ADDITIONAL RADIATION FROM TWO CYBERTRONIAN SPARKS, A NEWLY FORMED PROTOFORM IS EMERGING.
"PROTOFORM BEARS UNIQUE MARKINGS SIMILAR TO THE GLYPHS RECORDED ON THE ALLSPARK. FURTHER EXAMINATION IS NECESSARY.
"NEW PROTOFORM ALREADY SHOWING SIGNS OF GROWING. MEASURED AT FIVE FEET AND TEN INCHES IN HEIGHT, THE PROTOFORM IS NOW MEASURING AT SIX FEET AND NINE NICHES. PROGRESSION OF GROWTH IS NOTED. GROWTH RATE INDICATES THAT PROTOFORM MAY REACH HEIGHT OF TEN TO TWELVE FEET."
Sam's eyes flashed open. Upon the canvas of the metal landscaped roof above him, a broad screen ran diagnostics and numbers, downloading and recording the information flooding his memory banks.
Lines of text ran across the screen:
SYSTEMS ONLINE
DESIGNATION?
DESIGNATION?
DESIGNATION?