Disclaimer: Do not own.

A/N: Thanks for everyone that reviewed! I didn't think this fic would get as much love as it got. I don't know how I feel about this chapter, but Jazz wasn't cooperating and Primus is demanding more fic time than what I gave him. Like always, tell me what you think and any mistakes you point out will be fixed as soon as possible.

Edited: To take out the dashes cause English grammar doesn't use them. I think I went comma happy, but whatever. I need to beat the native language grammar into submission. All I want is to add to dashes and periods back.

"talking"

'talking in their minds'


Chapter 2:

His dreams were of metal. A metal planet, always shifting and changing to accommodate its inhabitants. Rust colored waves and desolate spaces. He could feel the planet pulse and he could feel himself pulsing in return. And even though it was a wonderful sight to behold, Sam was not moved by it.

Sometimes the dreams were painful. A pain that wasn't his, yet always forced him to his knees. The pain of a thousand smelters drying up the sea of rust. Melting down the changing cities. Until all that was left were impaled husks on spires. And even though the sight was horrifying, Sam felt absolutely nothing.

The metal shifted. Dying, weakening pulses forcing the change of an entire planet. It was painful to watch the planet unfurl until Sam was dwarfed by the presence of a planet sized Cybertronian.

"My child," he said and Sam flinched at the volume the mech used to speak.

Sam didn't speak though. Instead, he focused on the mech. The poor guy might've been massive, but whatever had happened to him was killing him. He was bleeding that glowing blood mechs had. There were parts of his armor that seemed melted down. Others were scratched. And others were blown up entirely, showing the internal mechanisms moving inside of him. His optics were a dull blue and his entire stance was one of defeat.

For the first time since he began dreaming, Sam felt something... Pity.

Sam woke up with a start to find himself tucked in on his bed. Even when his last memories were of him in the bathroom feeling oddly tired. His dream all but forgotten from his mind.

Except the final words of the planet mech, "You're not a thing, my child. You never were."

And for the first time since Sam found out he'd become the Allspark, he felt compelled to learn what it entailed. Since the first time he heard the lock on his cell's door he was determined to find out how the Allspark had changed him.

Because no matter how much human he looked, he wasn't one of them anymore. And it was time he learned to accept. Otherwise, he might never get out of this room.

He vaguely wondered what his mother was doing. Was she drinking her nightly glass of wine? Or was she playing poker with the neighbors? Did they even bother to tell her what had happened or did they tell her he was dead? Or would she go to sleep wondering why her son never came home?

He felt bad for ever feeling ashamed of his mother's weirdness.

So what if she played poker instead of some other not so manly games? What if she said the wrong thing at the worst of times? She made some damn cookies and she always looked at him with a proud smile on her face.

Sometimes he managed to pretend he felt her in the room. He would pretend to feel her sitting on his bed. She would ruffle his hair, the weight of the bed would shift and he would feel her lips on his forehead. And if he did it right, he would open his eyes, hoping to see her there, only to realize he was all alone.

He was going to give her a hug as soon as he got out.

He closed his eyes, willing his mind to empty and his body to relax. Concentrating on the hum of the machinery that surrounded him. It took him a while to do this. A fact that made him realize that meditation was really not as simple as the movies made it to be.

He didn't know how many hours he stayed like that but it wasn't as if he had anything better to do. What little concentration he had gathered was almost lost when he opened his eyes for a split second and saw a little ball of light pulsing weakly before him.

Growing more confident, Sam wanted to approach it, but he didn't knew how. Frustration grew as he failed to communicate with the orb of light and the glowing light would've faded away but Sam managed to control himself on time.

The ball of light seemed to gather enough energy to make a rather strong pulse to get his attention.

'What's crackin'?' Sam could hear the orb's voice inside his mind.

'Jazz?' He asked in his mind after a moment's hesitation.

Sam hoped it would work, because the last thing he needed was for Ratchet to start thinking he was going crazy.

Unless he was crazy and he wasn't communicating with a glowing light that spoke in his mind like a robot who was supposed to be dead.

'One and only,' the voice of the fallen mech echoed in his mind. It sounded as cheery as the first and only time the robot had talked to him, but there was something else.

And whatever it was told Sam the robot wasn't as happy as he was pretending to be, 'Aren't you supposed to… you know… be in heaven or something?'

There was a bitter chuckle in his mind and the orb waved, light dimming and brightening, 'It's… complicated, littl' guy'

'I've got time,' Sam replied with a grimace.

'I know. I've been watchin' everything,' The orb or Jazz said and Sam was surprised at the sadness behind those words.

There was a silence that made Sam uncomfortable. He needed to know…

'Why are you here?'

The orb dimmed until Sam could see right through it to the empty wall behind it, 'The Matrix don't want me. I'm trapped here.'

Oh… The sadness of a kindred spirit was palpable. It made the bile rise up and the pain in his heart grow. Here he was trapped in a room with no other place to go, while Jazz was trapped by death with no other place to go. Unless…

'Jazz?'

'Yeah.'

'Would you help me escape?' Sam asked. Because he had to ask. Because he was beginning to get an idea to each get what they wanted.

'Would I go to the Matrix after I'm done?' It asked, a desperate sort of hope clear on the orb's voice.

'Yes,' was his reply, 'I don't know yet how, but I promise you that I'll find a way to get you to the Matrix,' Sam vowed to himself that he would do so. Because he was not going to condemn another one to spend eternity trapped.

The orb stilled, 'I'll do anything you want, Allspark,' Jazz's voice said, 'I just want my respite. Don't care what I have to do to get it.'

Sam smiled sadly, closing and opening his eyes to find the room was empty, yet feeling a warmth in front of him, 'I swear I'll kill you after it's done.'

And then, Jazz screamed. Sam could feel the energy around him coursing through his veins. Burning him as if his blood was molten lava. He didn't scream though. He couldn't. The pain was too much for his body to react to it. But Jazz screamed for them both.

There were heavy footsteps approaching hurriedly, but Sam was in too much pain to notice. Jazz was clinging to death, and Sam was forcefully yanking him out to the land of the living.

'No, please!' The dead mech begged.

The door opened and Bumblebee was there, plucking Sam from the bed as if he was a rag doll.

'I swear Jazz. You'll see the Matrix when I'm out of here. We'll be free. Both of us.' Sam forced himself to think back.

He was seeing black spots and everything was getting blurry. The pain threatening him to consume him. His body trembling, muscles contracting spasmodically. The burning inside of him too much to bear. Until he could feel it explode around him before his body shut down.

He never noticed when Bumblebee got him to the medbay. He never noticed how Ratchet worked on him. And he never noticed when the repaired husk of the Autobot's Second Lieutenant powered up, a scream on his vocalizer.

It would take tying Jazz to the table for him to stop trying to rip his spark out and force him into stasis for repairs. Ratchet and Wheeljack would work frantically to keep the mech online.

Everyone rejoicing that they're most beloved friend was back! That the Allspark had been so kind as to give him back. Chalking up the Solstice's reaction to shock. He'd been fighting Megatron when he died. He'd be up to his usual antics when he was better.

And both Sam and Jazz slept. One dreaming of metal and a dying planet sized mech while feeling his mother's good night kiss on his brow. The other dreaming of the pain of being ripped apart and the peace that came with death while feeling the warm tendrils of the Matrix calling for him.