"Judging Sam"
By Venus Smurf
Samuel Witwicky.
It was a boring name, however he looked at it. It belonged to a middle-class first son, one who'd probably been babied all his life and so thought highly enough of himself but would buckle under the first sign of real pressure.
Samuel. He probably went by Sam.
How...boring.
Leo Spitz grimaced as he covered the last visible inch of unadorned dorm wall with yet another of his many posters, thinking that it could be worse. His last roommate had been one of those jocks with too much muscle and not enough going on between the ears, and the one before that had been a self-proclaimed computer geek who thought he was brilliant just because he knew how to use Microsoft Word. Neither of them had been terrible roommates, even if they hadn't had much to say to each other, but they hadn't been useful, either. He needed someone who could do tech, someone who could think quickly on his feet.
He needed another Leo Spitz, not a Samuel Witwicky.
He'd left the door open—most did in the dorms, because otherwise, the smell of unwashed socks and boxers would soon become overwhelming—but he'd have to have been both deaf and a special kind of stupid not to have noticed Sam's entrance. The boy stumbled into the room, arms weighed down by a cardboard box, and Leo turned to greet his new roommate as the music blared in the background.
"Hey," his new roommate called, voice just loud enough to be heard over the music, and Leo thought he could hear a note of uncertainty in it.
God save him from the timid ones. The very last thing he needed was a pushover.
"Hey," he called back, turning from his posters and coming to face the new kid. "You must be Sam, right? I'm Leo."
Sam looked every bit as boring as Leo had feared. There was nothing special about him—he was only a little above average height, with brown eyes and incredibly curly hair cut close to the scalp. He had socially acceptable but unremarkable clothing, generically boyish good looks that would never stand out in a crowd. And though there was intelligence enough in the kid's eyes, he didn't seem like the type who'd talk back or fight for a scoop.
Useless.
Leo didn't smile. Though he was a friendly enough guy when occasion called for it—mostly when there was a chick around—he didn't want to put his new roommate at ease. He needed the kid tense, uneasy but hopefully at his most alert if he was going to see what the new guy was made of.
"Sorry that I set up the crib," he told Sam, not sounding all that sorry and also not giving him a chance to reply. Best to keep Sam off his guard. He jerked his head around the room. "You want this side or that side?"
Now for the test.
Sam looked around, eyes only briefly scanning the decor. "Uh, that side," he decided quickly enough, though he still sounded unsure.
Leo didn't miss a beat. "I already chose that side."
The uncertainty deepened. Sam blinked, almost frowned, and Leo waited for him to back down.
He didn't.
A moment of silent assessment, and then something hardened in Sam's eyes. "You know what this is?" he demanded, suddenly speaking as quickly as Leo had. "This is the awkward moment."
Leo lifted his chin, genuinely surprised. He'd been expecting Sam to be weak, but the boy seemed to be rallying. His face had sharpened, as had the intelligence in his eyes. He obviously wasn't going to back down as expected, and maybe, just maybe, there was hope for him yet.
Sam pushed on, no longer sounding uncertain at all. "Yeah, see, you're trying to see if I'm a normal guy. I'm trying to see if you're a normal guy—balanced, unmedicated—"
Leo couldn't help interrupting. This had gotten good. "—good personal hygiene, won't stab me in my sleep—"
"—no criminal record, won't steal anything—"
"—including girlfriends—"
"Especially girlfriends."
"You got a girlfriend?" Now that was a surprise. Not-quite-so-boring Sam had a girlfriend? Probably some apple-cheeked, innocent little thing that had been with him since kindergarten.
"I do. You?"
Leo chuckled dryly, amused by how defensive Sam had become. Was the chick hideous or something? "No, not yet." Too busy getting scoops and chasing Hot Alice, but Sam didn't need to know that yet.
Time to get down to business. "You a techie?"
Slight nod from Sam, slightly self-depreciating. Leo didn't care. Quick as Sam obviously was, even if he was lying, he'd probably be a fast learner. And he was already better than the Microsoft guy. "Sweet."
And with that, Sam gained entry to Leo's inner sanctum. Leo dragged his new roommate over to the rest of his 'team,' introduced him and even allowed him to see the footage he'd so painstakingly—and illegally—collected of the shakedown in China.
He'd honestly expected Sam to be impressed, or at least interested. Who wouldn't be, really, with footage good enough to have come from a Hollywood back lot?
Sam apparently wouldn't, but even if the video hadn't managed to impress, Leo hadn't expected Sam to so abruptly pronounce the video a fake, or to so furiously deny even the possibility that something huge had gone down. How could anyone be that intentionally blind?
It was offensive.
And disappointing...and if this was any indication of the way their lives together would go, they'd be trying to kill each other before the week was out.
At least revenge had been swift, and he hadn't even had to do anything. Sam's parents had been a trip, the mother high as a kite, the father looking irritated but resigned and even accustomed, Sam actually putting his hands over his ears to block out his mother's intoxicated ramblings.
Leo almost chuckled, thinking that even if Sam was determined to bury his head in the sand like the worst sort of yuppie, Leo could still lord it over him after that display. His roommate may not be useful or even all that likeable, but he could still be controlled, and that was something.
That should have been the end of it. Sam should have been nothing more than just another irritating roommate, but as Leo would quickly realize, nothing involving Sam Witwicky could ever be that simple.
Leo wasn't a bad guy, and more importantly, he wasn't an idiot, either. As little as he liked Sam, he'd be living with the guy for at least a couple of months, and it didn't take a genius to realize that his own life would be easier if he gave Sam one more chance. He hadn't expected much, of course, but he still relented enough to invite Sam to one of the many frat parties being thrown that night. Maybe he could get the kid nice and drunk and at least loosen him up.
No such luck. Instead of trying to get completely and immediately sloshed with the rest of them, Sam, looking a little too out of place, instead drifted off on his own. Leo shook his head as Sam disappeared into the crowd, wondering how he was going to survive this awkward, anti-social roommate of his.
And then he forgot all about Sam, forgot even the drink in his hand as he recognized the wraith-like Hot Alice from across the room. She was meandering slowly through the crowds, an untouched drink in her own hand, her eyes scanning the room. He didn't know if she was looking for anyone in particular—please, God, let it be him—but before he could call out to her, a small, satisfied and slightly cruel smile twisted her lips, and she disappeared into the crowds herself.
He followed. Sitting back and worshipping from afar had never been his thing, and with a little luck, Hot Alice liked aggressive guys.
He found her only a moment later, and he'd have been more than human if he'd been able to stop his jaw from dropping in complete shock as he realized Alice was standing beside Sam.
Sam. Boring, head-in-the-sand Sam. Sam who hadn't wanted to come at all, because he was apparently shackled to his long-distance girlfriend and had to check in with her via webcam later that night. Sam who couldn't recognize a good thing even when presented with video evidence stolen from China.
Sam.
...no freaking way.
And the worst part? Sam didn't even seem all that interested. Surprised, yes. Possibly flattered, but too nervous. He was practically stuttering and falling over himself, and even from across the room, Leo knew he was trying to reject Alice.
Idiot. Didn't he realize that however loyal he was to his little girlfriend, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity? Guys just didn't turn down girls like Hot Alice...or at least not guys with working cerebrums.
What was wrong with this kid?
And then Sam took off entirely, shooting up from his seat like a cannon and barreling towards the front door. He practically jumped over half a dozen people to get outside, and though Leo wouldn't normally have followed, Alice did.
Leo was more surprised than anyone when he realized that the more-than-sweet yellow Camero parked in the hedge belonged to Sam Witwicky. Who'd have thought Sam, of all people, would break the rules like this? Or that he'd even own such a car in the first place?
Then there was the argument with the senior in the homosexually tight polo shirt. Sam surprised them all by mouthing off even in the face of a sure beating, the smart aleck once again sparking through Sam's boring exterior.
So it took threats to bring Sam to life. He'd have to remember that in the future.
Leo turned to find Alice, hoping to convince her to come back inside with him, only then realizing that she'd climbed into the front seat of the Camero with Sam.
Huh. Hadn't seen that one coming.
The Camero tore away in a squeal of tires and ruined lawn, and Leo could only wonder at the trick of fate that had left Sam with Hot Alice and himself with only an empty beer.
Sam didn't come back to the dorm that night, and of course Leo had—wrongly—concluded the worst. Still, he couldn't decide whether he should be annoyed at Sam for stealing his would-be girl, or if he should simply be proud of the boy for snagging the one woman every man on campus already wanted.
He chose to be both.
Sam returned to the dorm in the early hours the next morning, and while it was true that he didn't look as though he'd slept at all, he also didn't look as though he'd spent the night with a beautiful girl. He looked...tired, and worried, and maybe a little annoyed. What had happened with Alice?
Leo shook his head yet again as he wandered down to his first class—Astronomy 101? Had he been high when he'd signed up for that one?—though he was only a little surprised when he realized Sam was in the same class.
Of course he was.
Leo jerked his head in a quick greeting towards his roommate, silently made his way over to Sam and then sat beside him. It wasn't an attempt at friendship—they were past that—but rather a means of keeping an eye on Sam in case Hot Alice showed up. He couldn't really picture her in a class like this, but then he hadn't seen himself or Sam in this class, either, and if she did make an appearance, he wanted to be there to run interference.
They still hadn't said a word to each other by the time the class started, but then Leo became more interested in listening to the professor make a fool of himself and forgot even about Alice.
Was this professor serious? The man taught astronomy. Great for a date or two, maybe, but that certainly didn't make it an aspect of science worth pursuing. Why the ego trip?
And then Sam went around the deep end, and even the professor stopped mattering.
It started slowly—Sam holding his hand in the air in front of his face and staring at it as though it held the answer to all of life's questions. Had the kid's mother shared her drugs with him? Or maybe Alice was a little wilder than Leo had realized, and Sam's time with her had warped his brain. Whatever the case, Sam was definitely tripping.
Leo had initially pretended not to see Sam flying high, but then the kid had dropped his hand and started flipping through the textbook, turning pages almost spastically. Faster and faster, louder, and by then others were turning to stare. Leo wondered if he should pretend they didn't know each other, but it was too much like watching a train wreck, and he couldn't bring himself to look away.
Sam apparently finished the book, pushed it off his desk entirely, and then his hand shot up again, this time over his head. Sam was acting like a little kid who either desperately needed to ask a question or desperately needed to go to the bathroom. Either way, this was going to get ugly.
The professor ignored Sam at first, then basically told him to keep his question to himself, but Sam didn't listen. He jumped to his feet and ran down to the stage, commandeered the chalkboard and began drawing symbols that would have been more at home in some third-rate science fiction movie than in a college lecture hall. He was talking a mile a minute, babbling about Einstein and other principles that might have sounded plausible coming from someone sane but certainly didn't from Sam. The kid was tripping over his own words, as though his mind was going at a speed with which his mouth simply couldn't cope. His eyes were flickering like a television with bad reception, and at one point he began stuttering completely.
What the freak? Was this blabbering mental patient the same kid who'd challenged him in their dorm room?
Maybe Sam was having a seizure. Or maybe he was just bipolar. Maybe he'd been possessed, or was really a robot. Whatever the case, Leo decided to find another place to sleep that night.
And then whatever it was ended, and Sam looked as shocked as the rest of them. He was clearly horrified as the professor threw him from the class, but by then Leo had decided that it really would be best to pretend they didn't know each other, and he didn't even watch as Sam ran from the room.
He should probably have felt bad about that, but as class finally ended and he spotted Hot Alice in the hallways, any guilt dissipated. Was it his fault his roommate wasn't quite all there? And on the bright side, surely this would make Alice lose interest? No girl wanted a crazy guy at her side, right?
Only apparently Alice did, because she'd only had eyes for Sam. She threw Leo out of his own dorm room, even after seeing just how crazy Sam was, and it didn't take a genius to understand what was going down.
Leo might have been just a little depressed by that—he'd seen Alice first, hadn't he?—but then he noticed a brunette that made Alice look like nothing more than a victim of anorexia, and life suddenly seemed just a little brighter.
She was tall and shapely, with glossy, dark hair nearly to her waist. Smooth, tanned skin, perfect lips, gorgeous eyes. She could have been a supermodel.
Or at least not a student, he knew that much. He'd have noticed a girl like this, even if the semester had technically only just started.
Maybe she was looking for someone.
He watched as the brunette wandered down the hall, stopping briefly now and then to glance at the room numbers. Leo was just about to offer a little help when he realized the door she'd stopped before was his own.
Leo's mind went into overdrive as he tried to come up with a reason. Could it be something to do with his website? It wouldn't be the first time a fan—or a critic—had come looking for him, but the goddess standing at his bedroom door didn't look like either. Who was she?
He took a few steps down the hall towards his room, getting close enough that he could see her expression. She looked excited, eager...at least until she opened the door and glanced inside.
She pulled back almost immediately, and as she turned around and he caught the heartbreak in her expression, he finally put two and two together.
Sam's girlfriend.
The supermodel was Sam's girlfriend.
"No freaking way."
He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but really, who wouldn't have been shocked? Boring Sam was dating a goddess, and from her reaction when she'd probably caught him cheating on her, one that genuinely cared about him.
Leo shook his head in disbelief, finally understanding why Sam had been able to turn Alice down. Who could want even Alice with this positively stunning brunette at his beck and call?
...but how?! How had Samuel Witwicky gotten either girl? It didn't make any sense at all, and Leo was still debating between breaking down and asking Sam for some tips or checking himself into a mental hospital when he heard the crash.
Something had broken in his room—for Sam's sake, it better not have been anything electronic—and he and the brunette both turned and began sprinting towards the dorm bedroom.
The brunette got there first, shoving the door aside as Leo skidded to a stop beside her, both of them freezing in shock as they took in the hissing girl on the bed, the metal...whip coming from her mouth, Sam on the floor and screaming like a girl.
She'd reacted better than Leo had. He could only stare at Alice—who was still just a little hot—his body completely frozen as the skin practically melted away from her face.
What the...?
Sam had gotten to his feet by then, and as the girlfriend darted out of the room and Sam yanked Leo out the door behind her, Leo could only wonder if maybe he'd gotten a little too drunk the night before and was still hallucinating.
Last time he'd checked, hot chicks didn't turn into robots...or whatever it was Alice had turned into.
If he'd been thinking clearly, Leo probably wouldn't have stayed with Sam and the brunette. Sam was obviously the real target—why was Sam a target?—and maybe if Leo had disappeared for a few days, found a place to hide out, the thing that Alice had become might have forgotten all about him. He could have gone home, eventually gone back to school, pretended he hadn't seen his crush turn into some sort of assassin Terminator chick.
He hadn't been thinking clearly. As the three of them ran for their lives, all Leo knew was that Sam didn't seem as surprised or as panicked as he should have been, which meant that he probably knew what was going on, and that if Leo had a chance of surviving Hot Alice, it would likely be with Sam.
And in spite of the very girlish screaming earlier, Sam seemed to be handling the situation better than Leo. He was obviously afraid, but he wasn't having a mental breakdown, like Leo was. Sam's biggest concern seemed to be winning the argument with his girlfriend, who, amazingly, was still more irritated over the fact that Alice's tongue had been down Sam's throat than over the fact that said tongue had, as Sam had put it, been leaking diesel.
They weren't calm, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Leo still couldn't understand how they were able to string coherent sentences together. It probably should have meant something that they could, but...but Leo was a little too busy having a mental breakdown himself to figure out what that was.
He did, however, calm down a little when Sam began to vomit. It's just not possible to remain in full-on freak out mode when a guy is puking only a few feet away.
And then the thing came after them, and they had to run again.
Alice had gone completely Terminator by then, complete with guns for arms and a body now made entirely of metal. Books and tables were being shredded all around them, and at some point, things started exploding.
They managed to escape somehow, miraculously getting out of the library with only a few cuts and bruises to show for their ordeal. And then Sam's girlfriend—Makaela—found a car to hotwire, and Leo decided he was in love.
It lasted until Terminator Alice had shown up and Makaela had rammed her—it?—into a telephone pole...and then ran over her just to be sure, all the while grinning a little too vindictively.
Makaela may have been even hotter than Alice, Leo decided, but Sam could have her.
...which brought him back to Sam. Even as they were fleeing the massive killer robots that made even Terminator Alice seem as harmless as the coed she'd been pretending to be, Leo couldn't help wondering who Sam was.
Forget the fact that they were dealing with aliens, of all things, or even that these aliens happened to be alien robots. Forget the fact that this explained China, or that Leo had inadvertently stumbled on the scoop of the century. None of this explained why Sam, boring Sam, was being targeted by aliens, or how he even knew them.
Why Sam? What could be so special about Samuel Witwicky that he would be worth all this?
The answers didn't come, though Leo might have been a little distracted by the helicopter that snagged their car and dropped them through a roof of some kind of factory, by the aliens that sliced the car in half and then attacked them, first with words and then with everything else.
"You remember me, don't you?" the biggest one asked Sam, who, from the undisguised fear in his expression, clearly did.
...and while that only spawned more questions that couldn't be answered, Leo doubted that even Sam was thinking much about his mysterious past as the robots sent him flying across the room, away from the sobbing Makaela, and then, when he somehow survived that, all but strapped him to a table.
And as the aliens began torturing Sam, as the "doctor" forced Sam's lips apart and a second robot slithered into his mouth and up into his brain, as Sam began choking on his own agony and the images in the kid's mind were projected into the air beside him, Leo finally understood why Sam had been so eager to stick his head in the sand.
Makaela was still sobbing as the aliens took what they wanted from Sam, though Leo himself couldn't help being more than impressed as the man who'd been tortured only seconds before tried to talk his way out of his own murder. If the situation hadn't been so serious, if Leo's own life hadn't been so very obviously on the line, as well, Leo might have realized that it was this, this ability to cope, which made Sam so special. How many others would have gotten through that with any sanity intact, let alone with the ability to still argue?
And then Sam proved himself again when, before the aliens could kill him and after other aliens had come to their rescue, he took off and gave Leo and Makaela a chance to get away. Perhaps it hadn't been entirely noble—Sam hadn't exactly been given a lot time to consider his options—but as far as Leo was concerned, Sam wasn't the yuppie he'd first seemed.
It didn't matter. If they lived through this, he was still requesting a new roommate. It was one thing, he was realizing, to be searching for conspiracies from the safety of his dorm, and it was another to have become part of them. And while Sam may not have been as boring as Leo had initially thought, he was also too dangerous to have in the same room.
They waited for Sam in another abandoned building, Leo nervously scanning the skyline for more helicopters, the Twins and Bumblebee—what kind of name was that?—keeping their guns out, just in case. Makaela simply paced, all bravado gone, her hands clasped over her mouth to keep the sobs inside. Any anger she might have felt towards Sam's "cheating" had long since disappeared, and now the robot-chick-killing biker goddess had been replaced by a despairing, grieving woman.
She hadn't been the only one grieving. Sam finally returned, a little rough for wear but still alive even if something had died in his expression. He all but collapsed in Makaela's arms, body shaking with guilt, and it would be a long time before he would be able to relate even a portion of what had happened.
And that was another surprise, that Sam could grieve for the loss of something so alien, so inhuman. They were still only robots to Leo—machines that could apparently make his life fairly miserable, that could maybe still make him famous when all this was over, but only machines. They weren't alive, and they certainly weren't...people. Friends.
They were to Sam. And he was inconsolable.
Makaela stayed with him through the night, her arms around him, trying to shield him from dangers she obviously understood just as well as Sam. He barely seemed aware of her, and as morning came and the danger of their circumstances grew with the growling of their empty stomachs, Leo fished his all-but forgotten phone from his pocket and tried to reconnect with the world.
He immediately wished he hadn't. Another robot, this one more terrifying and alien looking than the others, had somehow jacked the satellites by then and was threatening to destroy the world unless Sam was handed over.
Of course.
It was a bit of a cliché, or at least would have been if this sort of thing could even have clichés, but it also figured. Of course Leo's boring roommate would turn out to have an intergalactic version of a wanted poster, and of course Leo had gotten himself entangled in the whole mess.
Leo tried to warn his roommate, but Sam was still in a daze, not listening, not caring.
And Leo lost it.
"They have a picture of me, bro!" he shouted at his roommate, this time genuinely angry if also mostly genuinely afraid. "We are done for! The FBI, the CIA—we are wanted fugitives right now!"
Sam hadn't cared, and it wasn't until Leo began waving his phone in Sam's face that the man snapped out of it.
Snapped out of it long enough to flip out, anyway. He yelled at Leo, took off, and when Leo followed, grabbed Leo's phone and threw it against the wall...and then actually stomped on it.
Who did that?
Sam never really explained just who he thought would be tracking their phones—the aliens or the government? Maybe both?—but for once, Leo decided not to press for answers. He liked Sam well enough, wanted him to survive this whole thing, but he didn't want anything more to do with it.
"Woah, woah, woah, okay, I'm not even with you guys," he finally protested, trying to find a way out of this. "Technically, I'm like a hostage...this was kidnapping!"
He hadn't really expected any of them to approve of his choice, but he'd also thought Sam would be a little more understanding. After all, given the choice, who wouldn't prefer a life where alien torture was something only Trekkies thought could really happen? And hadn't Sam done the same earlier?
Or maybe that had just been some pathetic attempt at a cover up?
Sam didn't understand at all, instead became impatient and maybe even a little disgusted, and Leo had no choice but to threaten to go to the authorities.
Sam had been more than disgusted then, any patience or sympathy he'd had disappearing as quickly as if they had never been.
"You wanted this, right? You wanted the real deal—that's what this is. Wake up! You're in the middle of it! You want to stick your head in the sand? No one's stopping you!" Sam was already turning away, the disgust no longer hidden. "Stop complaining!"
And oddly enough, Leo only felt his respect for Sam growing as the other man stomped off.
Sam had guts, and it was hard not to respect someone who could go through all this, know that something far worse was on the way, and still not falter. How many others could stay in control like this, put even torture and the fear behind him and focus only on what need to be done? Certainly not Leo himself.
Leo wasn't quite willing to admit that he wasn't even half as strong as Sam, that he would never be the leader Sam already was, which was why he gathered his wits back together and started thinking of ways to contribute rather than only thinking of ways to get himself out of danger.
There wasn't much he could give, of course, but Leo had already realized that Sam knew far more about all of this than Leo ever could. Still, Leo had contacts even Sam, Best-Bud-With-Aliens Sam, simply didn't.
He had RoboWarrior.
And so Leo found himself relegated to the role of guide as they all piled back into Sam's alien robot car and headed to the little deli where RoboWarrior supposedly worked.
RoboWarrior turned out to be nearly as much a surprise as Sam had been. Leo had expected some technically saavy, smart-mouthed hacker, maybe only an otaku with acne if an insanely high I.Q., but certainly not some old guy who spent too much time arguing with his mother over fish and cold cuts.
Was this his enemy? He didn't look like someone who'd know anything about computers or conspiracies, but then hadn't Sam already taught him not to judge a book by the cover? And at least he hadn't been wrong about RoboWarrior's identity.
And then Sam showed up, and Leo once again found himself having to reassess everything he thought he knew.
"You gotta be kidding me," Sam was muttering as he and RoboWarrior stared at each other, their features twisted into equal incredulous expressions.
"Wait a minute...you know this guy?" Leo demanded as RoboWarrior instantly threw everyone else out of the deli.
Sam nodded. "We're old friends."
Leo had his doubts about that, but then Robo spun and turned on Sam. "Old friends? You're the case that shut down Sector 7! Got us disbanded! No more security clearance, no more retirement, nothing! You and your criminal girlfriend," he spat with another glare at Makaela, who was clearly wishing she could run this guy down just as she had Alice.
Leo thought he might be starting to hate Sam. Was anything about this man normal? Never mind the fact that Sam's car had a name and could actually answer to it, but the man's girlfriend could jack cars, apparently had a record, and was keeping a creepy robot as a pet. His "old friend" had a secret lair beneath a room filled with dead pigs and didn't see anything unusual about aliens invading brains. If everybody and everything around Sam turned out to be this abnormal, what did that bode for Leo?
Nothing good, judging by the way it had all gone down. One thing was for sure—if he'd never met Sam Witwicky, he'd probably never have ended up on the floor of a museum bathroom, practically convulsing because he'd tazered himself in the nuts.
And by the time they arrived in Egypt and were honestly trying to come up with ways to get a dead alien robot halfway across the planet, Leo knew that he'd either spend the rest of his days loathing Sam Witwicky...or worshipping him.
"How are you going to get him halfway around the world?" Leo asked as they sped across the desert to what was probably going to be certain death, wondering how even Sam was going to pull this one off.
Sam looked at him as though it should have been obvious. "I'm gonna make a call."
Of course. Because a nineteen-year-old kid could make one call and mobilize the military or the FBI or whatever. Why not?
At least Leo had been given a chance to redeem himself in some small way. He stayed with the deli loser—who'd turned out to be some sort of former super spy, and it probably wasn't a good thing that by then Leo wasn't even capable of being surprised by just how badly he'd judged things—as the giant garbage disposal tried to basically eat them all. He stayed even after the other robots arrived and the firefight started, even after reinforcements joined in and things really started blowing up.
And in spite of all that, in spite of the fact that he'd risked his life and had gotten involved in something that should have made him an international hero but would probably be classified until after his children's grandchildren were old, he still hadn't been able to outshine Sam Witwicky.
He heard later that Sam died—or nearly died. Nobody was really sure on that point—trying to get the Matrix to Optimus. He heard that Sam somehow came into contact with the dead Primes, that he'd been able to fix the Matrix, resurrect Optimus, and had basically been the reason the world was saved.
How in the world was Leo supposed to top that?
Not that he wasn't grateful to Sam. He hadn't exactly wanted the world to end, either, but really, how much could one guy take? He'd never been the type to live in someone else's shadow, but Sam's was a tough one to escape. Was there anything the man couldn't do?
Days later, after the mess had been cleaned up and the bodies carted away, the military put the lot of them on a warship bound for the United States. They'd showered and eaten and slept, and as the sun began setting that first night on the ship, they realized that Sam wasn't with them. They hadn't really been worried, but of course they'd all instantly gone looking for him. Normal people might not have been able to get in trouble on a ship crawling with inhuman protectors even if they'd tried, but when had Sam ever been normal?
They found him on the deck, staring out at the water with his hands in his pockets and a distant expression on his face. Leo watched him for a moment as Optimus immediately moved to join his human friend, watched as Sam glanced up at the robot with a faint smile, as the man and the alien began chatting like the old friends they were.
And Leo sighed, any last resentment fading as the last remaining Prime instinctively took a stance similar to Sam's, as he also turned his head and began to stare out at the water. Optimus should have towered over Sam, should have made the human seem insignificant in comparison, but he didn't. They looked so much alike, those two, and Leo finally realized how pointless it was to be angry at someone like Sam for always doing better, being more, being greater. That was just Sam's way, and though Leo knew there would still be plenty of days when he would almost hate Sam for that, for the attention and admiration Sam would likely always have after this, for the most part, he was just grateful that he'd been able to share in the...fun.
...well, maybe grateful wasn't quite the right word. After all, his nuts still hurt from the tazer.