The quietness surrounded Sam completely, the silence soaring around through the wind, absently gazing at the deepest mist of the sky. The soft wind caressed his tear-swollen cheeks lightly, stroking, comforting him whilst carrying on, taking a deep dive through the blazing sun that blinded the boy.
Within the mad battlefield burning their souls and hearts, tormenting slowly as they watched their friends fall, glancing and moving on, sadness hollowing their chests, empty, humpty-dumpty.
They watched their friends take their last deep breaths, eyes widen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car within a dark road, shaky arms reaching to the sky, praying.
praying for a better tomorrow. praying for others to survive. praying that the living hearts would have enough power to throb in their chests, watching the shells of the others attack madly, powerlessly, weakly.
The sorrow swept over the brave soldiers as they watched each other fall, o n e by o n e. It did not matter whether they we're strong, brave nor daring.
It was their hearts that counted, tears unable to flow through their eyes as they carried the fallen friends over, brave, brave soldiers to the women/men of their lives, watching them fall apart in tears, keeping it in, tears smothering them within their hearts, their throats.
But it was not all humans that fell, the loneliness was the friend of the autobots, as through the mist of the battle they would survive, protect each others backs, yet going down, down, down.
It was not the aching pain that swept over them as waves, it was not the wounds that throbbed through their bodies, it was no the blood that made them halt, strong as they we're, yet tender and fragile.
It was the wisdom, the knowledge that whether they would survive this battle, watch their friends breathe for the last time, yet survive, live themselves, there would come another battle, soon and hopelessly,
the once fallen friends would grab them as well, falling
down
down
down.
As new soldiers would come in, others would have passed, gone with the wind forever.
But it was not yet Sam's time, he had survived, he had lived. He had ran through the madness of the battlefield, he had seen his friends, oh his dear friends fall, his heart breaking in thousand pieces, yet it was the knowledge that he had made it through alive.
Yet the one who truly had kept him alive hadn't.
those soft ad gentle optics that had met with the cold of the ground, fire burning around him as the canons were shot, earth would grumbled, waves would cry within the wind, smothering Sam within the sight of his best friend, his heart-keeper fall weakly to the ground, slowly, slowly reaching his limit.
The sounds of the battlefield had died along the seconds by Bumblebee's fall, the world had lost it's color within those dimming optics that once shone so brightly, the small human losing the feeling of his body as he ran, ran ran. His legs gave in, step by step reaching the Autobot that layed there on the ground, others running past him, over him, moving his inanimate body.
The berserk madness swept over Sam' heart, smothering his throat, crushing his heart gradually, the closer he got, the harder it got.
His legs gave in by the time he reached Bee, screaming out his name, yet no sound came upon his mouth, like someone had covered it, watching Bee taking his last glances over the fighting earth that seemed to share the same faith as Cybertron had once had.
He had reached for the broken in pieces boy that offered him a string of calming, soft words that gave him comfort, gentle hands that were covered in blood swept his armor, caressing it, holding it, desperately.
He had not heard the words Bee had spoken, he had only seen himself through the dim optics that projected his own image, frowning upon his own inconsolable face, so full of sorrow it had long along those falling seconds turned into.
He had seen Bee take his last sobs, caressing his cheek, giving Bee a soft smile of goodbye, the song of Bee's spark quieting down, losing itself in the memories of those who will.
All the strength Sam had had gone along those hollow optics that had shut down, those yellow hands stopped moving, gentle, soft sounds, touches.
gone.
Sam had lost himself to those memories of him with Bee, weeks and weeks just sat there, dreaming, remembering, longing.
crying.
He himself would have died a dozen times over for Bee, for his Bee that had gone down with the last dim sparks of hope.
The battlefield had been won, yet was it really now?
The loss of the ones who won was far more greater than anyone had imagined, thousands and thousands of small humans lost, a dozen of brave and strong autobots gone along by their side, leaving the living ones hollow, empty.
The ones who fell left behind a mess of blank hearts, blank projectors and systems, turning them into shells that no longer fought for the victory, but just for the madness of the battlefield, for that was all they remembered, that was all they wanted to feel, if not the pain, then the option was sorrow.
The desolating sorrow, the knowledge that the murdered and fallen were not returning with their smiles and pats, no. The calming whispers echoed through everyone's heads, screaming the names of the long lost friends,
save me
save me
oh save me
yet the tears had drowned them, wind raped their graceful bodies, sun burned their skin, brutally pierced the names of their friends in their weakened skin that offered it so much space.
Their friends would no longer take another breather, and the soldiers that were now fighting in the battlefield numbed their bodies to the aching pain, to the throbbing hurt that sliced their hearts.
For all they wanted was to feel the friends they had lost, hear the voice of their laughter, see the happiness in their faces as they went.
But all that was left was darkness and the hollow expressionless faces waiting for their turn to lose their lives for the ones they wanted to protect.
It made them feel older than they were, their shoulders sinking with the heavy loss, the warmth of the memories that drowned them, smothered them brutally, carrying the weight of the whole world on their shoulders.
For Sam had walked over thousands and thousands of miles, walked through those deserted highways that once were full of life with Bee, laughter as they spoke, the warmth of Bee's presence, the feeling of the speed as they gassed off,
no limits,
no borders.
Gradually Sam had taken his last steps to the place where he and Bee had spent more time than anywhere else, over the edge of the city, quiet as the nature, far from the noise of those city, far from the voice of the battlefield, far from the voice echoing through Sam's head.
He no longer felt the urge to feel the wind ruffle his hair, music singing in his ears nor the sun shining on him, warming the numb body that had stopped responding, sun blinding him as his lips curved into a soft smile,
With the last breath Sam took, tears flowing against his cheeks, knowledge that the salty tears had streamed down his lips, numb and tasteless, feeling shallow, hollow, empty, he stepped over the edge,
''Carry me home Bee.''
James Blunt – Carry You Home