Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Or "Can't Sleep" by Above and Beyond.
Can't Sleep
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"Four thirty A.M., I'm awake again,
Love has burned your mark so deep within,
Every night I can't help reaching out for more,
And I can't sleep...You're so far away from me,"
-'Can't Sleep' by Above & Beyond
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"Bye Sam…I love you too," whispered Mikaela, her voice soft but thick with pent up emotion, normally vibrant greenish-blue eyes dull and glassy. She swiped quickly at her eyes, ensuring that none of the tears that threatened to fall actually did. Mikaela Banes was too proud and strong to let something like a simple goodbye reduce her to a crying, emotional mess.
Sam, smiling mournfully, finally closed the connection and suddenly his face was gone—leaving Mikaela alone, face to face with a large, empty black box on her computer screen. As always, she stared vacantly at her old nemesis the box for long, painful moments. Mikaela had grown to hate that box with a passion; it mocked her after every videochat she had with her boyfriend, reminding her that Sam was not here with her—a constant, tangible symbol of the distance that lay between them.
Yet despite this, she always found herself mesmerized by it, eyes drawn to the black void for reasons she did not know. Perhaps I'm just a masochist and enjoy tormenting myself,she had once thought, an explanation which suited her well enough. However, the knowledge that the box would grace her with its presence after every videochat made their already long goodbyes even more painful for Mikaela, for as much as she loved talking to Sam, seeing his face, and savoring their few moments of closeness, Mikaela dreaded the inevitable feelings of emptiness and loneliness that always followed their video sessions.
Ending her self-torture, she closed her laptop, removing that damned box from her sight—though only until tomorrow. As she got ready for bed, she paused in front of the mirror, taking a long, hard look at herself. Her skin, usually so tan, seemed awfully pale under the fluorescent bathroom light and contrasted sharply with the dark purple bags under her lifeless and downcast eyes, all traces of their trademark brightness and warmth gone. Mikaela knew she looked dreadful; the slow, gradual change in her was becoming more and more obvious, to a point where self-denial was no longer an option. Others had noticed too and questioned her, but she claimed not to know the cause.
If Mikaela was totally honest with herself, she knew exactly why she looked the way she did: she missed Sam terribly—the distance separating them beginning to take its toll on her. In her opinion, her explanation sounded disgustingly poetic…but was completely true. During the past two years, Sam had become an integral part of her and her life, serving as the spark which kept her going. To lose a part of that connection was like going through withdrawal: Mikaela found herself constantly missing him, unable to think of anything else, and craving Sam's presence with increasing degrees of desperation and need.
It had been seven weeks since she had dropped him off at school following their mission to Egypt, the place she had almost lost him forever, and there were still four more before he came back for Thanksgiving. Mikaela wasn't sure she would make it that long—if she'd have known that a long distance relationship was this difficult and trying, she actually might have broken up with him for real the day he left for college. She chuckled to herself at that thought, knowing it was all superficial bravado and no substance.
Regardless of her suffering and sacrifice, maintaining their relationship had been, and still was, totally worth it. Mikaela knew she would be temporarily reunited with Sam at Thanksgiving and permanently once she was satisfied her dad was back on his feet and would stay out of trouble. Unfortunately, the latter had no set time frame; it could be in a few weeks or in several months, though Mikaela prayed it would be sooner rather than later. Until that glorious day came, Mikaela just had to endure and make the best of the situation.
Turning off the lights in her bedroom and crawling into bed, Mikaela sighed contentedly. Relaxing her tense muscles and enjoying the feel of the soft bed linens on her skin, she looked to her window, realizing her curtains still open. Not that she really needed them tonight—the light of the moon was obscured by the heavy cloud cover of the storm outside, the strong gusts of winds rattling the windows and branches, the pouring rain trickling down the glass of the window panes. How apt, she reflected glumly.
Turning her back to the storm, Mikaela closed her eyes, cleared her mind as best she could, and tried to drift off to sleep…
.
Hours later, Mikaela looked at her alarm clock, the intense red digits standing out in the pitch black of her room, and groaned. The night was half over and she hadn't slept a wink. Throwing back the sheets in frustration, she looked up to the ceiling, praying for divine intervention. Mikaela desperately needed to sleep, her tired body practically begging for rejuvenation and a chance to recharge her batteries. If not for herself, she had to rest so her mind was sharp for work tomorrow. After all, repairing cars and motorcycles wasn't exactly a profession without occupational hazards; a single lapse in concentration could very well cause her some sort of injury like a burn or broken bone.
Unfortunately, there was one problem, the same issue that always kept her awake every other night: Sam was far away on the East Coast, meaning she was alone. It was not that she needed him spooned up against her in order to fall asleep—they had never been allowed to spend the night together with parents still under the same roof. Quite simply, Mikaela missed the knowledge that he was nearby, that tomorrow she would see him, talk to him, touch and kiss him…enjoy an intimacy which was theirs and theirs alone.
A tenuous smile, occurring for the first time since she had spoken to Sam, slowly manifested itself on Mikaela's face as she reminisced about those one of those most cherished private moments…
.
Safely onboard the aircraft carrier and on the way back from the Middle East, Mikaela had found Sam on the deck, peering out into the endless blue that surrounded them. Ever attentive to her boyfriend, she had noticed he seemed to be doing this regularly—perhaps it was his way of reflecting on the clash with the Decepticons and how he had almost died during it. Simply enjoying the distinct, salty scent of the ocean and the wind whipping around her, Mikaela slowly walked over to him. Upon joining him, she stood by his side and also looked out into the vast seas, remaining quiet so as to avoid interrupting his musings.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sam became aware of her presence, though he did not outwardly acknowledge her. He appreciated her symbolic show of support and love, but also her silence, as now was a time for him to think, to consider the massive changes that had taken place in his life the past few days.
Chief among these was his relationship with 'Kaela. She had told him she loved him, and he had done the same. The circumstances under which they had said it were not exactly ideal, but then again, they never had been a normal couple. Regardless, Mikaela had meant it and so had he. It had taken a lot longer than he had expected to actually say it, but he took some solace in the fact that he had been thinking it for more than a year and a half. Though his doubts about her being his soulmate, the only one for him, had faded over time, overcoming this final barrier had erased every single one of them permanently.
A proposal was probably the next logical step, but Sam was in no hurry, wanting to bask in the glow of their declarations of love. Plus, he smirked, even death could not stop us. Glancing over to Mikaela for the first time since she had joined him, all thoughts, worries, and plans became irrelevant, his focus now centering solely upon his girlfriend.
In one fluid motion, Sam gathered her up and kissed her with a slow, gentle passion, remaining that way until they ran out of air. Mikaela was surprised at his sudden, romantic outburst, but thrilled nonetheless. Pulling apart, they rested their foreheads against each other, noses almost touching
"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that about?" she asked confusedly, still panting unevenly, trying to regain her breath.
"Because I love you," came Sam's soft, simple yet confident, reply; the feeling of his breath against her cheek sending shivers up her spine…
.
When Mikaela finally pulled out of her memories, the reddish-orange hues of the rising sun were beginning to peak through the clouds, slowly lighting up her bedroom. Instead of being annoyed with the increased light, Mikaela enjoyed it. The brilliant colors combined with the remnants of her pleasant recollections, surrounding her with a peaceful, comforting aura. She could feel the fatigue catching up to her and drawing her under, the last, lingering details of that wonderful moment aboard the ship slowly fading into her unconscious. Finally succumbing to sleep, a few brief, disjointed images and sensations set the tone for her rapidly approaching dreams: Sam, an apartment close to his college, an end to the loneliness, and perhaps best of all...never again having to see damn black box.