Author's Notes: I wanted to write something that explores the relationship between Sam and Bumblebee - hence this fic. I hope you all like it. Enjoy reading.
Warning: Some comma, dash and period abuse ahead, and most likely grammar and/or spelling errors (pardon in advance for that).
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related characters belong to Hasbro, Dreamworks SKG, and Paramount Pictures.
17
01
Like any other teenage boy, Sam Witwicky wanted a car of his own – to impress the ladies of course, and maybe to boost his ego a bit.
So, when he was finally able to scrape together 2000 dollars and 3 As, he told himself, This is it. This is the moment I've been waiting for. And off he drove with his dad, hoping he'd get a sports car.
He never got a Porsche. Instead, he got a '76 Camaro with a custom paint job, which turned out to be a sentient alien robot aptly named Bumblebee. And off they drove, towards the beginning of his life's greatest adventure.
02
They say that the relationship between a boy and his car is something special.
Sam couldn't agree more.
What he had with the Camaro was anything but ordinary. Bumblebee was his car, yes, but he was also his guardian, and his best friend. Perhaps no one would be able to understand the depth of their relationship, but to Sam, it was simple.
He'd die for Bumblebee.
And he knew that the Autobot would also give his life for him, if need be.
03
It was the perfect day for a drive, and Sam always cherished these few yet precious Sundays of summer – he could relax and unwind, sleep in, or go out and go home late, without worrying about tomorrow being a school day. It was days like this he loved the most – days when there was nothing but him, and his car, and the open road.
Just him, and Bee, driving. It was contentment. It was freedom.
It was bliss.
04
The windows were down, and he enjoyed the feeling of the warm afternoon wind on his skin. Classic rock was blasting out of the car stereo – Bee's preferred music when driving at 60 miles per hour, and rising – and Sam tapped a finger on the steering wheel in time with the pounding bass. His other hand was out the open window, arm stretched with his palm wide open, as if he were catching sun rays. As the song progressed and the words slipped over each other in a raging tempo, he found himself singing along, loudly, cheerfully – and letting every thought, every worry, every thing, go.
05
It was barely six in the morning. Sam was sprawled comfortably on his bed, blanket and sheets in a tangled heap, sound asleep, when Circle of Life from Lion King blasted full volume from their driveway. He jerked awake instantly, and even fell off his bed in surprise. Cursing at his rude awakening, he went towards his open bedroom window and stuck his head out. There he was, the culprit, looking as cheerful as any yellow Camaro could be.
06
Sam knew that ogling sports cars at a classy, high-end automobile shop, while cruising around town in Bee, was a big mistake the moment the yellow Camaro backed-up, opened the driver's door, and unceremoniously dumped him in front of said shop.
Bumblebee's worse than Mikaela when it comes to jealousy, Sam thought as he began walking, with a sore bottom, the remaining mile back to his house.
07
There were a lot of things about Sam Bumblebee didn't understand. The boy had faced the very evil that had torn his home planet apart in civil war, and managed to come out the victor – standing up against a high school bully will prove to be paltry compared to that. And yet Sam never did anything to get back at Trent, and the Autobot did not know what to make of it. Finally, after seeing the boy come home with his fourth nosebleed and second bruised eye for two straight months, Bumblebee asked why Sam never fought back.
The boy merely shrugged as he answered, "Because I'm not like him."
08
Sam loved stargazing. When he was a kid, he used to spend nights in their backyard, lying on a blanket underneath the night sky, counting stars. He found it entertaining, trying to pinpoint which star is which, and tracing figures in the sky as he tried to name as much constellations as he could. But he used to do it alone.
He loved it more now – gazing at stars – because he had someone else to share his passion with.
Sam smiled and leaned closer to his guardian's alt-mode, resting the small of his back on the driver's door as he continued to count stars.
09
Everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before Sam would end up a successful writer – he always had a flair with words. His first book, which was about a boy, his car, and how he saved the world and got the girl, was a hit, especially among the younger generation. A year after its release, Sam received a visit from a producer from LA. Two years after that visit, the movie was released. But it wasn't the fact that it was a play on the events in Mission City nor the fact that it spawned the popularity of yellow cars with black racing stripes that Bumblebee found memorable about the book. It was the flyleaf, and what was written in it:
To Ron and Judy Witwicky, greatest parents in Tranquility
Mikaela, love of my life
Miles, partner in crime
Will, the older brother I never had
'Hide, Ratchet, and Prime, best damn support group ever
And most especially Bee, best friend and second to none
10
Sam was never schooled in the art of war. But fighting with and for Bumblebee, for his loved ones, and for the fate of the world, brought out the soldier within.
11
He saw in the distance massive forms in the heat of battle, the setting sun as backdrop making the scenario appear like a twisted shadow play.
Sam watched on, with dreadful fascination, as metal crushed metal – the force of each blow sending shockwaves he could feel even from where he was standing, more than a hundred meters away.
12
Mikaela was the first to go.
It happened so unexpectedly, one night when the new Autobot base was ambushed by the ever-growing forces of the Decepticons. Sam was wounded, but survived from the attack. She didn't. He didn't speak to anyone for days.
At the funeral, Sam remained silent, composed, unfeeling. He placed a single white lily on her casket. She loved lilies.
And then, he walked away.
Bumblebee followed, and opened the driver's door for him. Sam got in without a sound. They drive. After a while of nothing but heartbreaking silence, Bumblebee played Mikaela's favorite song.
It was the first time he saw Sam cry.
13
He was falling, and there was nothing to hang on to, and no one to break his fall.
Memories – good, bad, but all of them precious to him – flashed in his mind like a video in fast forward. And in that haze of recollection, one shard of memory was clear – a yellow Camaro with black racing stripes, and the joy he felt the first time he ran his hands through its steering wheel.
He closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact.
14
This place was just so different from where he came from. Here, days and nights passed almost like a second. Here, every thing seemed to be made of something else aside from metal. Here, all things seem unfamiliar, and very fragile.
The differences are uncountable. Overwhelming. But what pains him most of all is that, here, there were only a few like him.
There are times when he yearned to be home. Cybertron.
Even so, he is thankful to be here alive, with his comrades, with his leader, and with his human charge.
15
As the Camaro parked at the driveway of the Witwicky's, a boy sitting idly by the sidewalk stood up, gently placed a hand on its hood and said, "Welcome home."
Cybertron may be the place of his birth, yes, but Bumblebee knew that where he truly belonged was here, with the boy. With Sam.
16
It was the perfect day for a drive, and Bumblebee always cherished these moments – moments when he was with Sam, out on the road. Human life was fleeting, and he wanted to make the most out of their time together, to make as much memories as possible, so he would have something to hold on to, to remember, when the human boy was gone – because he would be, someday.
But right now, nothing else mattered. There was just him, and Sam, driving.
17
Bumblebee has been through countless human charges, and has witnessed their lives unfold before his very eyes. Every one of these humans has a place in his spark, but in the end, there is really just one boy whom he'll never forget, no matter how many vorns may pass, and who, simply, will never be replaced no matter what.
His name is Sam.
-Fin-
