-I only realized I accadently named this story similar to the other series after I posted it.-

You know what this is, there's really no point in saying it. If you didn't, then you probably aren't here. If you are here and just trying to find out what it's about because my summary sucked, then read the first bit, or read 'Mysteries and strange ties' along with 'Sam 'All Spark' Witwicky'.

It's real long, I know, but you should probably like that. It won't, obviously, be any more than a one shot, so there's really no point in waiting for more. But if I have anything important to say about this, like say I want to write another part of his life from before going to Cybertron, I'm going to put another post on this story. So if you see this thing has two chapters, I'm warning you now it's only a heads up.

I have written a few different versions of this already, but I'm only now posting one. So I hope you like it. =.)

Mom was in the other room and dad was sitting on the couch next to me. It's Saturday and most of the cartoons are over. It's the worst time of the week, noon on Saturday.

"Dad." I moaned as the ending credits showed on the last one. He glanced down at me before turning back to his phone. I don't know what he's always doing on there nor do I care. All I know is he doesn't have any friends to text. "Why can't we get cable?"

"It's too expensive." he replied.

"But my cartoons only show on Saturday now, and they end at noon." I glanced at the clock before turning off the T.V.

"When I was your age, I didn't rely on television for entertainment." he said, still staring at his phone. He was scolding me for relying on an electronic to pass the time, yet he never looked away from his phone.

"Well, you're older than the dinosaurs." I mumbled. He sighed and glanced at me.

"Sam, here." he reached on the table next to him and handed me a pencil. "Pretend it's a rocket."

I stared at it for a minute, then up at him. He just wanted to get rid of me.

"Dad." I said seriously. "This is a pencil. I'm not five anymore."

"Then how old are you?"

"I'm nine and three quarters." I recited happily. I had just read the Harry Potter book, the first one, and I was proud to find myself the same age as the number his train station is.

"Nine?" he asked, looking at me, "Then you're old enough to find something to occupy yourself with. Didn't we just get you a new set of Lagos?" I sighed, groaning. Parents were never any fun.

"Fine." I slumped off the sofa and trudged upstairs to my room. On the way down the hall, I passed the room mom was in, on the internet looking up gardening something-or-another. I smiled and changed my course.

"Hey mom!" I said loudly as I walked in, pushing the door a little wider. She jumped and looked over at me surprised. I loved scaring her.

"Oh, Sam." she sighed and looked back to the screen.

"Mom," I came to a stop next to her. "Do you wanta play a game? We haven't played Monopoly since last moth-" she cut me off.

"I'm sorry Sam. I just got a shipment of petunias and I need to find out how to take care of them." she said. I glanced around to find the flowers only to see a small package of seeds. I slouched. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm just too busy."

"Yeah, yeah." I glowered as I exited and walked the rest of the ways to my room. Everyone is always preoccupied and I'm left doing nothing. I don't even have school today to complain about.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling as I made small, simple shapes out of the shield I was able to use. I've been able to use it ever since I can remember, even as a baby. I remember the moment I got it in perfect clarity, but I always kept it a secret. Driven by an unknown force to keep it that way.

After a while, I let the orb disappear and I rolled over, staring at the things on my night stand. Alarm clock, remote, Gameboy, flashlight, my lamp. Nothing especially appealed to me. I didn't want to play with my stuff; I wanted to play with someone. All My friends lived on the other side of town and my parents were boring.

I decided to play with a few things. I tossed my Gameboy in the air and caught it a few times, then it dropped too far out of my reach. I then grabbed the flashlight and flickered it on and off at the ceiling. When it didn't come on after a while, I decided to look at it to see if the light was out, not that I could tell. It suddenly turned on and shone directly in my eyes. I shut it off and tossed it to the end of my bed. It took a few minutes for my sight to come back, but when it did, I grabbed the first thing my hand hit, getting irritated.

My lamp. It was a small thing, a cylinder. The base was metal and the bulb stuck up from there in the center. Around the bulb was the cylinder part. The cover part. It was white and on the top it was empty. When it was on, the light was muffled going around, but blinding from the top.

It was plugged in, but I didn't turn it on and off. I was getting so bored I didn't even want to find something to do. So I just leaned my head back against the wall, for I had sat up when the light blinded me. I laid the lamp in my lap lazily and tried to take a nap. I don't understand why my dad was always taking naps during the day. He doesn't even work at night. He worked in the evenings, from five to eleven. I guess that's evenings. Sort of. But the point is, he gets plenty of sleep.

I began to play with my shield mindlessly again, deciding to feel my way around the inside of the lamp without looking or breaking anything, which was kind of hard because the shield is s strong and if I had any kind of energy, it's kind of like I don't know the extent of my own strength.

After a moment, I found an empty pocket inside of the lamp, near where the bulb was connected. That must be why the lamp doesn't work sometimes.

I suddenly wondered what would happen if I mixed two parts of my gift. The shield and the energy field. I made another sphere with my shield, hollow, and made a small energy field within it. I let go of the energy field instead of letting it disappear. I now healed it only with my shield, and it was still in the small gap in the lamp's innards.

I knew I wouldn't be able to manipulate the energy again after I let it go, and I had it stuck in the lamp. Shoot. I have no idea what would happen if I let my shield disappear, but I immediately started to use my brain and come up with what would probably happen.

My science teacher, I have two teachers, said that lights were turned on with a circuit. If the circuit was broken, then the light turned off. But why? Because the energy, the electricity, doesn't reach the needed parts when the circuit is disconnected. So the lamp gets bright because of the energy. And the small field healed in my shield was energy. So the only thing that should happen is the lamp gets really bright, because the energy is powerful, then goes back to normal when the energy is used up.

I assured myself that's all that would happen before squeezing my eyes shut and covering them, I didn't know how bright it would be. I reluctantly let go of the shield and felt the energy, I could still sense it, I just couldn't manipulate it, spread throughout the lamp. It found its own path through the lamp, the wires, but what I hadn't expected was for it to concentrate in the empty space. Instead of growing bright, the energy began to slow and started to move throughout the lamp in a constant pattern. All of it leading to and from the empty spot. But it was no longer empty. Instead, I could feel something start to form. The energy took on a kind of-solid form.

Even more surprising, around the small pocket of energy was an aura. Much like the one around all the kids and teachers at school, and my parents. I gasped as I realized the lamp was gaining life.

I dropped my arms from where they shielded me from the expected yet not-there light and opened my eyes. The lamp was shuddering slightly and I felt it grow warm with a somehow natural heat. Once I felt the small life force complete, all taking place in only a minute, the lamp burst open and transformed so quickly I hadn't even realized that's what happened until I seen a small robot standing in the middle of my room with cannons aimed at me.

Although the small robot looked frightening and I would have been scared for my life, I had no doubt those cannons were working and gave death blows, I could sense the youth and ignorance in the robot's aura. It was scared and acting upon instinct. I briefly wondered what it was, exactly, but then I was overcome with empathy. He had no idea what was happening.

Carefully, I slid off my bed. The robot, his species had to have a name because there has to be more somewhere, was no more harmful then a kitten. He had claws, but didn't know how or when to use them. Only, they were cannons. I inched closer and he started up the cannons, trembling slightly. I stopped approaching and held up my hands.

"I won't hurt you." he didn't understand me, for he's only been alive for a few seconds. I knew this, so I tried to communicate the same way one would with a stray dog. With my tone. "Easy, it's alright."

He slowly lowered his canons and they turned to hands. Small hands the size of a newly born. He was tiny, for he was only made up of the lamp itself. Most of the lamp was the cover, which occupied two large wings on his back. I didn't know if they would carry him anywhere, but it was definitely possible. The glass from the light bulb had broken apart and covered his forearms. I approached again carefully and held out a hand. He stared at me cautiously, ready to attack if I posed any danger.

I gently set my hand on his head, showing I meant no harm. As soon as he realized this, he relaxed and smiled, hugging me. I was surprised, but he was young. A child. He was kinda cute too. I hugged him lightly, thinking silently. He was just a child, and so was I. Have I finally found someone to play with?

Moments later, he sat on my lap. I realized he couldn't speak, but he understood me. I don't know how, but he does. I was holding up a few things for him, watching him eye them in interest. Sometimes he took it and turned it over in his hands. When I got through everything from the shelf we sat next to, I Brought him to my closet, where I pulled out my tub of Lagos. He seemed interested in them, so I showed him how to use them. Within another minutes, he was building his own, uh, whatever that was.

I watched him for a while, a thousand questions running through my head. What exactly is he. How did he come to be, I mean, how could I have done that? And, does he need to eat anything? I heard a bang downstairs and my head snapped toward the door. The little lamp, I'm going to have to name him, followed my gaze before abandoning his project and crawling back onto my lap. I smiled and hugged him slightly before reaching over to grab his, uh, block, and sliding a pile toward us. I handed it to him and began to build myself with a sobering question hanging in my mind.

What will my parents do when they find out?

We played for hours, until I heard my mom call up the stairs. "Sammy! Dinner's ready!" I glanced down at the young robot, who didn't know what dinner was, but understood I had to leave.

"Sorry. I'll hurry back as quickly as I can." I promised, lifting him up. "You need a name." I mused, deciding to name him before I gorged myself on Thursday-pasta night. "Tell me when you like it." he nodded.

I thought for a minute. "Shade?" I thought of the cover for his lamp-form, which were now wings that were together twice his size. He shook his head. "Gogshiz?" the company that his lamp model, but with a twist. Again, shake of the head. I thought for a moment, then he made a sound. I turned to him curiously.

After a moment, he spoke with a child's accent. "Arti." I smiled. His first word. And it's choosing a name. I didn't ask why that name, but he seemed to like it. I did wonder where he got it, but I had to hurry.

"Arti it is." I set him down on my bed. "Stay here. I can't let my parents see you. They never come in here, but don't make any noise. Please." I grabbed a coloring book and a box of crayons. "Here, I love to draw. I bet you like to color. Now I'll be back." he nodded trustingly and I smiled before running downstairs and slipping into my seat just as mom was serving.

"You've been real quiet up there." she commented. "And I thought you were going to bother us some more." she teased. During meal time, everyone was light hearted. I blame it on the food.

"I got locked up in building something. It's not finished yet, so don't go in my room." I said as I grabbed my fork. It was the perfect cover.

"Alright. As long as you aren't doing something you aren't supposed to." she eyed me as she set the pan back on the burner. Dad came in and sat down, staring at his plate with a blank gaze. He turned to mom then with a questioning look.

"What?" she asked, taking her plate and setting down. "You can get your own."

"Sam didn't have to." he objected, still not moving. Mom rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, I like him." Dad frowned at the jest and got up, taking his empty plate. "You know you love me." she watched him walk to the stove. All this time, I had been stuffing my face. I wanted to return back to my room to Arti.

"Slow down." Dad eyed me as he sat down. "Got a hot date?" I rolled my eyes. My family used so many sayings, I don't think they even know what some of them mean.

"No, I just, want to go to bed. I'm tired and I have a test-" I stopped, remembering it was Saturday and tomorrow was Sunday. "Monday. I want to study in the morning so I have the rest of the day free."

"Oh, since when have you been the studying type?" dad asked as I finished my food. "Are you trying to impress a girl? Is it that Mikayla you've liked since second grade?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, that's what it is." I said sarcastically. "I'm actually trying to get some extra credit. If I get a high enough grade, I get to go to a party." I smiled widely.

"Alright. Good luck!" mom called after me as I raced toward the stairs. I had my door opened and closed in record time. Arti looked up from where he lay stomach-down on my bed. He had half finished coloring a bird in a nest.

"How are you doing?" I asked softly as I sat next to him. He sat up and showed me the picture. "That's really good," he'd stayed inside the lines. Or, better, he'd stayed inside the bird. I reached over to one of the shelves under the night stand and pulled out a clip board with blank paper on it. I leaned against the wall and took the pencil off from the top before starting to draw. Arti sat next to me against the wall, mimicking my posture and started to color on the book which rested against his legs. I was doing the same drawing, with my legs propped up.

We stayed like that for a while, then, when we finished (at the same time) he showed me his. He really had done a good job. He'd messed up three-quarters of the way through and his crayon had broken. He couldn't continue to use that one, and he hadn't finished the wings. He used another one, which was just a different shade of the same color, and it actually made it look pretty cool. I took the picture and ripped it out, pinning it to the message board next to my door.

While I was up, he'd taken my clipboard and was looking at my drawing. It was a strange object that looked kinda like a double spike. It was hollow and there was a design of thin metal strips, same as the contour of it, creating a pattern on the sides. Between these strips, you could see the center, which glowed slightly. I'd borrowed his blue crayon to lightly color the center.

When I sat back down on the bed, he looked up, pointing at the picture.

"I don't know what it is. I was just drawing randomly." I paused. He was a creation of whatever I did with my gift, so of course I could let him know. I still had the feeling I should keep it secret, but he was a youngling. I know he trusts me and likes me. De doesn't even know what's normal and what's not.

I extended my shield and formed it into the shape in the drawing. He stared at it in amazement for a moment, setting the clipboard aside. He touched it and I moved the shield so he could handle it at his will. After a moment, he looked up at me excitedly and let go of the object. I let it disappear as he held out his hand and a light flickered out the palm. It spit out for a second, then he tried again and he made the same object appear just as I had.

I smiled and watched him. With his other hand, he tried to touch it, but his hand fell through. The surprise at this, because he expected it to be like mine, made the image falter. He concentrated and it healed strong again. He attempted to touch it again, but he didn't succeed again. He looked up at me with frustration before trying again.

My hand caught his before it reached the white object again, everything I made with my shield was white and his was mimicking mine exactly. He looked up at me and the object disappeared completely.

"Patience." I said. "I'm different Arti. I'm different, so you might not be able to do it the same. But then again, you're different than everyone I've met too. But if you can do it, you'll need to practice." he nodded and I let go of his hand. I got back up and walked to the door, flicking off the light just below where his picture hung. I walked back to the bed, I had changed a while ago, and lay down, slipping under the covers. He snuggled up close and I smiled, hugging him slightly.

"Now rest." I soothed. The violet glowing from his optics dimmed, then went just as bright. I sighed. "You need some rest. I'll play some more with you tomorrow." With that, his optics dimmed until the room was pitch black. I was so happy, I've always wanted a younger brother. And this youngling is just as I liked.

The next morning, I woke to a knock on the door before it opened slightly. I panicked and brought the covers up over Arti. He had awoke with me, and knew immediately what he needed to do.

"Are you awake yet Sam?" I heard my mother's voice.

"Uh, yeah. Just now." I said groggily. I stretched as a small, warm, metal body did the same next to me.

"Oh, sorry. I guess your 'studying time' doesn't start this early." she paused. "I was going out. Did you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine." again, I wondered what Arti ate. But he hasn't aced hungry yet, so I guess that can wait. He might not even eat.

"Alright. I'll see you when I get back." she shut the door quietly, though I was already awake. We stayed still for a while, then I brought the blanket down and he opened his optics, having been hiding their glow. He looked up at me tiredly.

"Are you still tired?" I asked, though I knew the answer. He nodded and curled up by my side, enveloping himself in his small, large for him, wings. I smiled and sat up, taking him in my arms. I stayed that way until he came out and looked at me annoyed. I smiled again.

"You can't sleep all day." I said. He unfolded his wings and stretched again. He then sat in my arms relaxed, accepting his fate to stay conscious. "Alright. I have to leave for a few minutes, but I'll be back. Don't fall asleep again." he nodded as I sat him down. I didn't hand him anything to occupy his time with this time, because I only planned to get dressed and use the rest room. Plus he wasn't all here yet, so he probably wouldn't even open a coloring book.

I came back in wearing my clothes for the day, and sat across from him. He stared up at me.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "If so, we need to find out what you eat." He shook his head and I was relived. I had no idea what he would eat. For some reason, I don't think Pizza is on the menu. "Alright then, you can't just roam my room when I'm at school. My parents will find you. And I go to school too often, way too often, to just leave you in the closet for the day." he stared at me. "I can't keep you a secret. No matter what we do, my parents are going to find you eventually. And they're going to freak."

I knew he could talk, but he obviously prefers not to. From his look, I could tell he wanted to know how we would do this. I thought for a moment.

"I don't know who will take it best, but we should only tell them one at a time. And we can't let one warn the other." it felt like I was planning a war against my parents. "Let's tell dad now. Then we should get mom up here before dad can tell her. Maybe we can even get dad to keep quiet about it." I doubted it. In all our planning, neither of us heard the front door open, or my mom telling my dad how she had left something in my room. I had a shirt she wanted to take back.

But we both definitely heard it when my door opened and my mom busted it.

"Sorry Sam, where's that shirt? Today's the last day they're having that sale..." she trailed off, eyes zoning in on Arti. "Samuel get away from it!" she screamed, grabbing my wrist and pulling me off the bed and to my feet. Arti reached for me, frightened. I pulled free of my mom and picked up Arti, who wrapped himself in his wings again. I healed him protectively.

"Mom, relax. He isn't going to hurt us." I tried to tell her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, staring at me wide eyed. Dad came rushing in.

"What's going on?" he asked, panting. He noticed Arti, but didn't realize he was a living robot because of the wings. "What is that?"

"It's a monster!" she shouted, pulling him close.

"No, he's just scared. Stop yelling, he's young. Only about a day old." I said, tightening my hold on him. "Just let me explain." How was I going to tell them? I still can't let them know of my gift. I'll tell them I found him.

"Put it down!" mom shouted, trying to knock him out of my arms. I pulled away.

"No, he's only a child. Stop!" I said, realizing they wouldn't listen. I immediately began to worry about what they would do.

"Sam!" dad ordered. Arti peeked out and trembled. Mom stepped out for half a second, then returned with a broom. My heart sped up.

"If you hurt him, you'll have to hurt me!" I threatened. Dad defied this by grabbing me and forcing my arms open. He tossed Arti across the room, where he whined. I jumped forward to get him back. But my mom struck before I could even put up a shield. I went limp.

After a few more heart-breaking blows, my mom stopped and dropped the broom. My mom and dad stared at me with wide eyes, dad let go of me and stepped back.

"What did you do, Sam?" I couldn't resist. I didn't have it in me.

"I gave him life." I whispered, in denial.

"How? What are you talking about?" Mom asked.

"I gave him that, that," I could only think of one word to describe what allowed him life. "That spark. The same spark you crushed." I looked up at them with a glare. "How could you kill a child?"

"That was no child Sam," my mother tried to comfort me. She knelt before me and hugged me. I pulled back and flung myself onto my bed, sobbing. I'd grown a connection with the youngling over the past few hours.

"How would you feel if I looked different, and someone bashed my head it claiming it was for your protection?" I asked angrily.

"Sam, this is different. That, that, that thing would have killed you." Dad started. I snapped my head out of the pillow and glared at him.

"His name was Arti. He would never have hurt me, and you just did. I told you couldn't hurt him without hurting me." they stared at me, then left. I stayed there, sobbing into my pillow for a long while. Then, I heard voices. Not between them, but louder slightly. I knew my dad always thought he had to yell into the phone for the other person to hear it.

I quieted for a moment and listened as he scheduled a therapist session for me. I screamed angrily and threw myself into a sitting position. I gazed around the room. They had taken his body. That made me angrier. On my night table was the clipboard, I hadn't put it away correctly last night. There was the strange object on the top paper.

He would never get to practice to make a solid one of his own. I grew angrier.

I conjured up a replica of what I had last night. I touched it, as he had. I grew angrier.

I glanced around the room again and my eyes fell upon the picture that hung above the light switch. All my anger disappeared and all the morn that had built up with the anger remained.

I silently grabbed a blank piece of paper and wrote a short few sentence of remembrance for my small friend and walked over to carefully take the picture down. I didn't rip it down as I normally would, for I wanted the least amount of puncture wounds as possible.

I emptied one of the picture frames that hung on the wall near my bed, tucking the family vacation picture in my drawer and placed the multi-colored bird in the nest in the picture frame. I tucked the other paper in behind it before replacing the back and hanging it back up.

I stood in silence for a while, maybe hours, staring at the bird. I smiled slightly to have something remaining of him, and at the wings the bird had. Arti had wings. And we will never get to find out if he could fly with them.

With that thought, I collapsed on the bed and started my long time of mourn.

About half way through, I realized what I would have to write, because I had already put in that his mom took a broom to the sparkling, and I decided I didn't want to. But, of course, I had to. I had written versions of this in the past, but I never got far enough to have to write that part. I don't know if you thought I did a good job with sad, but I'm pretty down hearted myself.

R&R