Disclaimer: Transformers and any characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me (except Ferrari bot). This story is not written or used in any commercial purposes.
Title: Enfolding Grasps
By: Wind of the Dawn
Chapter 2 Revelations
Little roar of the day: For some reason, my scene break lines are always deleted. WHY?
When Sam woke up with one of the best sleeps he ever had in his life (God, since when was his bed so comfortable?), he fully expected to see either his lovely white room ceiling or perhaps the familiar ceiling of Bee's vehicle form. He was thus justifiably confused when instead both, what he was looking at was a dark velvety ceiling that was much closer to his face than what he was usually used to.
Sitting up on the reclined chair (leather just like Bumblebee's) the smelt vaguely like the ocean, Sam took a fleeting glance at his surroundings.
The interior of the car he was in was dim. Glass shaded so dark it was almost impossible to look outside or inside were in place of the windows and the screens. From the little gaps left open at the windows, Sam could see the sun shining brightly outside as well as hear the sound of waves crashing against the shore.
Aaa. He was near the sea. That would explain the smell.
...
Wait a second. He didn't remember going anywhere near the sea...
Suddenly, all events were recalled in a rush of panic. The hole in the wall. The Damaged Cars. The Ferrari mech kidnapping him. Unbuckling his Seatbelt quickly, Sam literally threw himself at the door. Discovering that it was locked after struggling with the handle a few times, he tried desperately to climb out of the gap in the window. Alas, while Sam was by no means buff, he was too big to climb through a tiny gap meant for air ventilation. For what good it could do, he was seriously considering bashing into the glass when a stern voice stopped him.
"Creator, kindly desist from panicking. Your pulse rate has risen to dangerous levels."
Giving himself whiplash when he turned around, Sam stared around in horror as his mind processed the meaning of him being in the grasp of this stranger. O God, it was awake. He was going to die here, now. Under the claws of this mech. OhnoOhnoOhno-
"Creator" The voice calmly repeated once more "Calm down or I will be forced to act."
Well, Sam thought through his haze of panic, that doesn't sound good.
Forcing himself to take deep breaths, he gripped the edge of the leather seat tightly. He was here, with some strange mech, without Bumblebee. This wasn't good. In fact, It was simply SNAFU. If Bumblebee hesitated to let him out his sight before, after this stunt he was sure go full on mother hen on him now. Goodbye freedom, Sam was sure he was going to be followed everywhere for eternity from that day onwards.
That is, if he got back.
"What do you want" Sam whispered hoarsely into the cabin. For a moment, silence prevailed through the darkness, and then the door flicked itself open.
"Get out."
Startled by the sudden order, Sam stared incomprehensively at the dashboard. When it dawned on him that the door was wide open though, he stumbled out of the Ferrari and ran a distance away from it. Knowing that he would not be able to outrun, hide maybe, the mech, Sam turned around and faced the transformed Ferrari reluctantly.
With the sun shining down upon him, the mech's paintjob glittered brightly. Imposingly tall compared to the human, he kneeled down onto his knees in order to get closer to him. Gold optics gazed intensely into brown eyes and he began to speak slowly, as if afraid that Sam would bolt away.
"Creator" The mech said, "I will not harm you."
While relieved that apparently the mech wasn't gunning to gut him, Sam was still rattled from a combination of being so far away from home and his friends, and being taken to some unknown obscure place by a stranger. Looking up at the mech, he replied "Then take me back home."
For a moment, the mech seemed as if it was trying to puzzle out a very intriguing puzzle. Whirling and rapid clicking could be heard with Sam's human ear, and he guessed that the mech was probably doing some fast thinking, or information processing as Bee would say. Taking this chance of respite, Sam once again took in their current surroundings.
Pale gold sand covered the beach they were parked on, and gentle waves lapped at the beach. Seagulls were flying above them, casting shadows upon the ground they flew merrily above. Distantly, Sam could make out the outline of a raggedy cliff that spanned towards them in a descending pattern. It was a beautiful place. But at that moment, Sam didn't have the mind to admire the scenery. He was too busy trying to figure out what the mech wanted and how on earth did they get there if there was nothing but sand and cliffs surrounding them for miles.
Weird.
"Creator, may I obtain your preferred alias?"
"Huh?" Seeing that the human obviously did not understand him, the mech repeated himself.
"Your alias Creator." The mech patiently explained "Databases have indicated that your designation is Samuel James Witwicky. Though I have no reluctance against referring to you as so, perhaps you would prefer to be referred to with another substitution designation?"
O. O. Finally understanding that the mech was asking him what he wanted to be called, Sam opened his mouth and replied. "Sam. Call me Sam."
Whirling and clicking once again, the mech nodded. "Preference noted."
And thus both of them entered into a period of awkward silence. Twiddling his thumbs, Sam sneaked glances at the mech occasionally while the mech just stared continuously at him. Frowning, Sam looked at himself, was there something weird on him that made the mech just stare at him so much? Ah well, after a while he'd stop staring ... Right?
(line break)
Epps looked around in distress.
Twenty two hours ago at 10:45 a.m, Sam was declared missing after a Decepticon attack at the automobile show he visited. All checks conducted at his usual haunts turned up clean, further supporting the declaration. The Autobots went into a state of uproar, and the N.E.S.T team went onto standby for a massive con hunt.
Twenty one hours and fifty three minutes ago, a Canary Yellow Camaro that was previously suspiciously missing suddenly speeded out of the medical bay and crashed directly through the walls of the base, leaving cement and steel in its wake while Ratchet could be heard roaring about how he better not have busted his coolant pipes again.
Nineteen hours ago, a report had came in from the automobile show stating that a Navy Blue Ferrari was not found amongst all the debris and other damaged cars. Matching reports of a similar car with pitch black windows and screens speeding out South West of the town were handed in.
Eighteen hours and fifty five minutes ago, the Autobots (including Ratchet much to the surprise of bots that had not yet underwent check up, not that they complained), baring the few that were either left to guard the base or too damaged from their fall to earth, all latched onto the piece of information and had driven off in a fury of screeches, determined to find said Ferrari and its captive.
One hour and twenty five minutes ago, the entire group had returned, without the familiar figure of the kid.
No
Now, all of the rescue operatives were gathered in the Autobot hanger in their vehicle modes. If needed, they could immediately rush out, saving the precious few seconds needed to transform. After all, a few seconds could change everything.
Not if he's already dead. His traitorous mind replied.
"Epps, any news?" Startled out of his thoughts, Epps turned to answer his Major. "No, sir."
Sighing helplessly, William Lennox combed his fingers through his dishevelled hair and returned to his pacing.
It was strangely nerve wracking, watching his major pace. The metronomic rhythm of him walking left and right, left and right, left and right, just like a clock... A cruel reminder of the time passing them by. A reminder that with every second that passed, the possibility of Sam never being found again was bigger and bigger, never reverting.
"Well, that's not helping." Epps muttered to himself softly. But for pits sake, what could he do to help?
It was times like this that they all felt so damn helpless, being unable to help someone they genuinely cared for. Never mind that the giant alien robots usually capable of solving all problems with a scan and flick of a gun weren't able to as well, as long as they (the humans) weren't capable to doing anything it didn't make any of them feel better. Still ... It didn't mean that they stopped trying to find the kid.
Glancing around the room, Epps could see a couple of operatives that the kid hung out with sometimes when he visited parking their aft's down on the cold hard floor, calling what contacts they had in other towns and asking if they've seen any Ferrari's driving by. Across them, the Autobot twins were moving back and forth through the hanger, helping the soldiers prepare in any ways they could, just in case a sudden rescue mission could be launched. Next to the wall, a duo of Autobots (Jolt and the remaining unit of Acree's bodies) were staring blankly at the wall, no doubt accessing the internet, attempting to scope out if there were any suspicious sightings anywhere. Somewhere in the building, a group of technology oriented operatives were going through camera feeds all over the state, trying to spot the allusive Ferrari. Meanwhile, Ratchet was going through the rest of the check up's with a speed bordering on insanity, determined to provide the bots with optimum condition in case they needed to stage an ambush. Even Ironhide was providing moral support! (If pointing a glowing cannon around could be counted as supportive)
All in all, everyone was trying to do a piece to help.
Why?
Because the kid had grown on them all.
Glaring at the ceiling, Epps swore that they would find him; 'cause really, what were friends for.
(line break)
Headlight flashed menacingly as an engine roared loudly.
Racing down the deserted road loudly at a speed no human would dare to drive, a Camaro swerved dangerously along a sharp curve, causing steam to rise from its steaming hot tiers. How long had it been driving since the spark wrenching news had been processed by his main systems? How long has it been since his charge (SamSamSamSamSam) had been taken away due to his negligence?
Medical checkups be slagged. When he heard that Sam was going out with his friend, Bumblebee should have followed him. He shouldn't have left for his medical appointment and leave his precious charge alone (a part, a tiny part, of Bumblebee's processor laughed hysterically at the look on Ratchets face if he had really skipped the appointment). Now, Sam was paying the price of his carelessness, captured in the hands of a Decepticon.
He must be so afraid.
Twenty one hours fifty two minutes and ninety six milliseconds since his departure from the base. Nineteen hours fifty nine minutes and eighty seven milliseconds since he received information from the Autobots about the perpetrator's possible vehicle mode.
So much time had already passed. Was Sam even still ali-
NO. Processors halting the thought immediately, Bee skived a turn too sharply and scratched his side against the metal barricades, leaving behind destroyed bars and on him silver streaks of paint. Ignoring the sting and the warning signs for overheating popping up, he continued his race against time.
Oh Primus, what if Sam was already in the hands of Megatron?
NONONONONO
Pausing his thought processors again, Bumblebee drove faster and faster. Earth vehicles were not meant to be abused so by Cybertronian abilities, too much stress would impact negatively on the mech's physical capabilities due to physical constrains. Now, Bumblebee was pushing on critical, but he didn't care.
No, he didn't. Because Sam was in danger.
Pictures and videos of Sam flashed themselves across his internal screens, as if commemorating the boy's life. Sam smiling. Sam laughing. Sam running around after Mojo. Sam with Mikeala. Sam talking to him, laughing out loud at a witty comment taken from the radio. Sam-
Bumblebee ripped them off. They were taking up valuable processing space in his systems. A little more space meant a little more speed in his mad dash against the unknown, and for Primus's sake he needed all the speed he could get. Even if he had to run his spark down he would get to his charge and take him home safely and alive. Would be with him throughout his life and would laugh together at silly little things.
Would be by his side forever.
So help him, if Sam was even the lightest bit injured, Bumblebee would rip out the Fragger's chest and shove a cannon at his spark. And if he were dead ... (a little voice at the back of his system cried out in agony when that thought passed through his processors)
There would be nothing left when he was done with them.
Taillights flickering briefly, the Camaro, now a mere yellow blur, sped up again and raced off to find his charge. It needed no guidance. Because somehow, Bumblebee just knew where he was.
(linebreak)
It was impressive how long Sam managed to just stand there, silently waiting for the Ferrari bot to stop staring and just open his mouth to speak.
After a few dozen minutes though, his patience finally snapped. There was only so much he ogling he could take before he started to twitch, the second before was his line.
Opting to just open his mouth and continue where they left off, Sam started to speak. Then he immediately shut up because really, what was he supposed to say. All his social life had never prepared him for a confrontation with a giant alien robot that had seemingly popped up from no where, and Bumblebee didn't count because he was his car first before he started transforming and lunging on Decepticons. Really, what was he supposed to say?
Hello? Hi? I come in peace?
Wait, no. The last one didn't fit. It was for aliens, not for the organic species spawned on this planet.
"Creator, you pulse rate is increasing again."
Dazed, Sam noticed that -huh, he was panicking. Thinking back about the whole stop-panicking-or-I'll-deal-with-you thing, completed with foreboding music and an imaginary evil glint, Sam gulped. Calm down Sam; don't let the scary bot have a reason to have a go at you.
Settling his arms into those yoga movements he always saw on television, Sam breathed in and out. It was doing really well, then Sam noticed something. Did the mech just call him 'Creator'?
Now that he thought about it, the bot did do nothing but call him that.
"Hi, big guy" Sam nervously asked "Why do you call me creator?"
The bot leaned back from his current position, optics flashing. "My apologies. My processors have not aligned themselves fully to your preferred alias of 'Sam'. However, now they have been re-calibrated and will refer to you as such."
"Oh no no no." Did the bot think that he was throwing a fit over his name? "I mean, like, why do you call me that? I sure as hell didn't create you."
The bot looked at him again, this time with a slight tinge of amusement to him.
"No, you didn't create me."
Oh, ok, that was ok then-
"You made me."
Stop. Bang. Backtrack. "What?" Sam shrieked.
Still using that no-nonsense voice, the bot replied Sam's shriek with an answer. "You made me Sam. You didn't create me, but you made me."
Now, was it him or did that make absolutely no sense?
"No, waitwaitwaitwaitwait." Sam was pretty there was someone laughing at him out there in the galaxy, probably Primus "I made you?"
Looking just like a proud mother whom had just seen her offspring take first place in some academic competition, and in this case seen a pathetic human finally managing to connect the first dot to the second in a huge of connect the dots, the bot nodded.
"That doesn't even make sense!"
If the mech had eyebrows it would have raised itself. "I disagree. It makes perfect sense." Settling himself down comfortably on the sand, the mech seemed aware that he was in for a very long discussion.
"No it doesn't!" Sam objected vehemently "I can't make you!"
"In case you haven't noticed Sam, you just did not one day ago."
Sam was aware that he would have made quite a mad sight as he started to wave his hands around like a windmill. But who could blame him anyway. It wasn't every day that a giant robot walked up to you and claimed that you made him. Never mind that it should be bloody well impossible.
"No, it's impossible. I couldn't have made you."
The mech shuttered his optics. He could feel a migraine coming. He opened his processor system and dragged out a file that would hopefully clear up his creator's confusion.
"Sam." Distracting the human from his ravings the mech continued "Are you clear about the practices of human reproduction?"
Taking the humans blank stare as a no, the mech continued onwards. Loading a clip that he had found on the World Wide Web about the 'Birds and the Bees', he cranked the volume up. "When a man loves a woman very very much ..."
Oh god. An alien robot was trying to give him the sex talk. "No! NO! STOP IT!" Shrieking again, Sam stomped nearer to the bot. Face a flaming red, he glared up at the bot and shook his fist threateningly. "Yo - You - You do that again and I'll make you regret it!". Seemingly chastised, the bot nodded his head reverted to his silent self.
(Unknown to the human, the Ferrari was highly alarmed over the spike of his creator's heartbeat and body temperature. Considering that they just kept on rising, he decided that it would be more beneficial if he stayed silent for the moment.)
Breathing hard, Sam sat down on the sandy ground. Life didn't prepare him for this. Nothing did.
"You." He rasped out "Explain this now."
The mech chattered in concern. "Are you certain?"
"What?"
"Your pulse rate is still high, it would be more advisable if -"
The mech never did get a chance to finish his sentence because Sam decided to get close and personal. After the blinking glyphs in his head got him into a whole lot of trouble during his first college year, he quickly learned that getting answer up and front and not waiting for a period before he was answered by someone more menacing was a good idea. Stuff being polite, he wanted his answers now.
Grabbing the mech's face by some cables at his neck, Sam growled into his face. "Tell. Me. Now"
(line break)
He was once again surprised by his creator's actions.
Though special, his creator was still a human. An organic species that was fragile and short lived compared to the Cybertronian race. According to research, humans generally ran from extraterritorial beings. They did not walk up to them and grab their heads, screaming and demanding answers.
Were the ghost movies he observed wrong?
No matter.
His creators pulse rate was rising. Again. At this rate, the mech fully expected his charge to just drop over in a dead faint. Perhaps a squirt of sedatives was needed? But the internet had recommended that teenagers should be given a chance to express themselves. Was this how they expressed? Through a hike of hormones, heartbeats, and change in facial colouring?
How unnerving.
Regardless, the main culprit behind his wild behaviour was his unanswered question. Such behaviour was damaging, hence unacceptable. If an answer was what he needed to revert to optimal conditions then the mech would gladly provide them.
"Understood Sam. I shall answer your question to the best of my abilities and your comprehension."
Seemingly sceptical over the way he had posed his sentence and feeling vaguely insulted (he felt like he just got insulted somehow), Sam cocked his head and slowly let go of the mech's wiring.
Good. His heartbeat is balancing.
"Sam" the mech started "The reason as to why I call you creator is because you are one of the two that created me."
Sam was starting to look like he had swallowed a large unwanted lemon. Ignoring him, the mech continued. "Similarly to human reproduction, Cybertronians also require two parties to spark a new mech - kindly cease your squabbling I promise it's not what you think it is - in this case, the Allspark and a vessel. To put it in understandable terms, the Allspark provides a spark to the vessel, hence making it the male parental unit; while a Cybertronian will usually provide an empty vessel suitable for the sparkling, hence making him or her the female parental unit.
Other method for sparklings to be sparked would be the union of a mech and femme. Though, considering that the war has not been kind to Cybertronians, it is considerably hard to find a femme these vorns.
In my case, my spark was sparked by someone else. And you, you made my vessel presumably by residual AllSpark energy from left in you from Egypt. Henceforth, you are my mother and creator."
The Ferrari bot watched as Sam's face started to alternate between a fascinating shade of puce and bright red. For some reason, instead of decreasing his pulse rate had skyjacked again. This was getting very alarming. Was there something he had missed out that had angered Sam?
Perhaps it was his improper use of terms. "Sam. If you are distressed over my mix of the words creator and maker, please inform me. I will immediately ratify the issue - Sam? SAM!"
Having taken enough shock for the day, Sam's eyes rolled into his skull and fainted.
(linebreak)
Optimus Prime looked on grimly at the N.E.S.T operatives working to find their fellow human friend, Sam. It had been more than twenty hours ago when Sam had been taken, and nearing a day they still had not managed to obtain any Intel on his whereabouts.
Grave thought plagued his mind as he pondered upon the whereabouts of his young friend. Having saved his life two times and proving himself to all Autobots as a worthy and honourable ally, Sam had became a treasured member of their -dare he say- family. Having lost majority of their forces throughout the eon's fighting Decepticon's, the Autobots (even though some of them just plain hated each others guts) had banded together and considered themselves as one big family. When one returned to the matrix, they all grieved; and if one was captured, they did everything they could to get them back.
The sound of metal door sliding open graced his sound systems and Optimus turned sent his sensors around him to check who was entering the hanger. His answer was obtained when a familiar spark signature and the familiar stature of Ratchet walked in.
"Optimus." Blaster called "It has been a long time."
Not wanting to offend his friend by not transforming, Optimus shifted upwards and stretched his limb. It was surprisingly tiring to be in vehicle form for a long period of time.
"Blaster" Optimus greeted back "I trust you are well?"
Blaster laughed, a large booming sound that echoed around the place. "Of course, I dare say that if I wasn't Ratchet would have my head."
The familiar dull thunk of a wrench against metal resounded across the hanger, and a couple of Autobots winced in sympathy at Blaster as the CMO glared at him. Huffing indignantly, Ratchet raised his arm threateningly again and Blaster chose the smart option of shifting subtly behind Prime.
Let it be known that Ratchet was a scary scary mech when any medical issues were concerned.
"So Optimus, I heard that you're looking out for a human?"
"Yes." Optimus wasn't surprised that the newly arrived mech had already heard of the current issue, the base was only that big "Nothing has been able to track the mech down and sensors have indicted nothing."
"A stealth system then?"
"Perhaps."
Stealth systems were notoriously hard to bypass. Usually engaged while in vehicle mode or during recharge in hostile territory, this system meant that any Cybertronian could pass under all the scanners they had and still pass up as a dead piece of metal. Considering that earth had a lot of metal driving around, it was an absolute nightmare. This meant that the only way they could notice the Con was if a speed camera caught him, or if anyone got curious about a Ferrari and posted about it. An added bonus would be if they saw it driving without a driver. Furthermore, there wasn't only one navy blue Ferrari in the country.
Optimus sighed heavily.
"Now don't act like that Optimus, why don't you try again then? You have pretty nifty sensor arrays. One of the biggest ranges."
Linking out, Optimus did so but had no luck. Despairing, he turned and stared at the roof. Ratchet clucked and hit Blaster again.
"OW! What did you do that for?"
Ratchet gave Blaster a dry look and fingered his wrench. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Optimus would be better off if he didn't have his failure shoved in his face again?"
"Well. Now now Ratchet, you know I didn't mean it anything like that!"
"Of course not. Now, why don't you take over the observation of the sensor channels. I know you have a larger range than any of us." And most of the Cybertronians ever sparked.
"As if that would help if the Decepticon's wanted to hide." Blaster scoffed, but he did so anyway. Not one minute into it however, he stiffened.
Ratchet looked on in concern "Blaster?"
"Well now, this is strange." Blaster mumbled. There was something at the edge of his scanner range, somewhere many miles away from here. Signals came in on short and faint bursts, in fact Blaster was sure whoever that was emitting it was probably undergoing a panic attack from what the signal shaped up to be. It was unfamiliar though, nothing like any of the Decepticon signals he remembered. In fact, if he was correct ...
"We have a neut here."
Heads jerked up all around the hanger. "A neut?" Ironhide demanded "Aren't they all supposed to be off gallivanting somewhere far away from the Decepticons and us?"
"Not so Ironhide." Blaster replied, amused "Sometimes they crash land near us accidentally. I suppose we have to contact him then? You know, to prevent mass panic?"
Optimus sighed again. "Coordinates Blaster."
"Of course Optimus. It's -"
"Sir! Reports of a Navy Blue Ferrari racing down the coast 2476 miles North from here. Witnesses reported that it number plate matches exactly with the one gone from the show!"
"... Exactly what he said ..."
Engines roared around the hanger and several soldiers could be seen fingering their weapons. Epps and Will leaped into Ironhide's cabin, aware that if the Autobots got serious they would be left behind in the earth vehicles. They finally had news on the kid, and he was in the hands of a 'neut'. Though it wasn't a Decepticon, this wasn't much better.
Optimus narrowed his optics "Autobots, Rollout."
(linebreak)
Optics gleamed in the dark.
There.
There.
The boy was there.
Unprotected now. A Perfect chance.
"Decepticons. Move out."
(line break)
A couple were walking down the street enjoying the breeze, laughing together with joy. As the female raised her umbrella up, a hurricane of wind passed her by, ripping it out of her hands roughly. Shrieking in fear she latched onto her boyfriend.
These events passed by in a total of 3 seconds, but Bumblebee was already miles away. He was getting closer.
(linebreak)
Sam was pretty sure he was dreaming again.
It was the same place. The place with the towering buildings and breathtaking lights blinking in the sky. Laughter ringed around him once again, and the wind lapped at his body. It was so beautiful.
And it felt so right.
You shouldn't be here.
Turning around sleepily, Sam's mind took in a picture of white and sparks flickering around something. Someone.
Why? He asked It's home
The figure drew back, amused.
Yes It agreed Home. But not today.
Why not?
Because, someone is calling you.
(linebreak)
"Sam? Sam! Sam, wake up!"
A rather frantic voice echoed down into the darkness at him. It was a bit familiar, but for all of him he couldn't remember who it was. He had this nagging feeling that even if he remembered though, he wouldn't know his name anyway.
"Sam!"
And how rude was that? Really, his mother had taught him better than that. Basic courtesy was one of the things that she had literally drilled into his head.
"Sam!"
He really wanted to continue his dream though. It was so ... nice. But the figure in it had said that he couldn't go there yet, so maybe he better wake up?
Besides, whoever was it that was calling him sounded really scared.
"SAM!"
"Ok, Ok. I'm up." Mumbling under his breath, Sam tried to open his crusty eyes to look at the really loud person yelling into his sore ears. Would it kill him to yell a little softer?
The first thing he saw once everything cleared was a really close view of a blue and black face together with a pair of frantic gold optics. Huh, he didn't know that optics could be so expressive. Then suddenly, he was aware the stranger bot who was apparently his kid (Sam shuddered inside) was hovering over him like this giant canopy about to fall on him and it became his turn to shriek (He did that a lot recently).
The bot jerked backwards fast, wary of causing the human shock again. Systems whirling and armours shifting agitatedly, he crawled away from the human.
"... Sam?"
"Yeah." Sam gasped "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, just a shock."
Another silence prevailed over the two. The only disturbance in it were the occasional gasp from Sam and the concerned twittering of the mech. Behind them, the faint echoes of a roar could be heard, contrasting lovingly against the sound of the lapping waves and calling seagulls.
Sam looked at the mech, he seemed really concern. Maybe he really wasn't trying to hurt him after all (He is your child you know, a part of him whispered). Remembering his manners, Sam gave the mech a timid smile and asked in clear voice "So, what's your name?"
The mech stared at him then looked out into the distance at the sun and the sky, seemingly lost of words.
"You have a name ... Right?" Maybe Sam needed to name him?
Gazing back softly at the human, the mech whispered softly into the air, his answer almost covered by the howl of the wind and the splash of the waves.
"My designation is KnightFire."
KnightFire.
Sunlight flickered down upon the mech, dazzling Sam's sensitive eyes with sparkles that glittered off the his (KnightFire's, Sam tried) dark armour. A sense of intense Dejavu bugged him, telling him that there was something strangely right about the name, and that Sam should have known something the mech. But that was ridiculous. Completely unthinkable. He just met the mech, created the mech, whatever.
It was a weird feeling. Uncomfortable even. But this wasn't the time for pondering; Sam had even more important things to consider.
Distracting KnightFire by shifting subtly, Sam asked "So, are you ready to go back and meet the rest of the guys?". If the mech was really his kid (his mind still kinda refused that wrap around that), and young (what was Cybertronian childhood length again?), it'd probably be a good idea to get him to meet up with the rest of the crowd to learn the ropes. Besides, Bumblebee would have Spark attacks if he didn't get back soon.
If he wasn't having them already.
The mech turned around to face him, optics staring again as the sand under his feet sunk beneath his heavy weight. Sam wondered if he would get problems with rust later, after all metal and sea water together tended to have adverse effects. Should he prepare any paint for repainting and bring KnightFire in for a carwash? Bee seemed to enjoy car washes a lot so he'd probably enjoy too. Maybe his dad could lend him some of his wax. Or maybe Ratchet would want to look over him first, cause' Sam was pretty sure that KnightFire was one-of-a-kind.
"Unacceptable."
"Excuse me, WHAT?" Shocked again, Sam took a few steps backwards. What did he mean by 'unacceptable'?
"Exactly as I have conveyed Sam." If anything, KnightFire was as aphetic as ever. "The Autobots do not possess enough capability of protecting you sufficiently. In fact - optics narrowed - factoring in what has happened to you, they seem to be putting you into more harm than good."
Waving his arms around agitatedly Sam stared at the mech in dawning horror "So wait. What? You mean your not taking me back?"
Still calm even though Sam was having another fit and subconsciously inching away from him, KnightFire flatly spat out a "Yes". Walking over to the panicky human, he leaned down and tried to scoop him up but was rebuffed by Sam whacking his claws away.
"You can't do that!"
Mentally despairing about the difficulty of his creator (or perhaps maker would be more accurate, his processors analyzed) and charge, KnightFire tried once more to calm and reason him down. It wouldn't do for Sam to remain with parties that put him in danger.
"I assure you Sam. I do this for your own good."
"Don't tell me that!" Sam roared loudly (another roar ricocheted off the walls spanning behind them and joined Sam's in anger), "You can't take me away from my life!"
"Sam. listen and process your situation carefully it's for the - "
Sentence never finishing, KnightFire stiffened. Scanners screeching loudly, warning signs popped out all over his internal systems. How could he not have noticed? How could he have been so careless? ()
Shifting quickly over his charge, KnightFire grabbed the human gently and clutched him close to his chest, ignoring his desperate protests. Sprinting over a section of rocks near the cliff, he left Sam there and tried to prod him into a safe position.
"Wait! What are you doing?"
"There's no time Sam." Threat approaching 567 meters 0.76654 yards and lowering. Whatever it was, it was approaching fast. Battle protocols activated. Weapons systems online. Mission objective: Protection of Samuel James Witwicky and destruction of threat. Current success possibility: 33%. Current location inappropriate for optimal combat procedures. Suggested measure: Area chang- Inappropriate action: Time frame insufficient.
Cursing under his breath, KnightFire switched on his prototype cannon. His preferred weapons system was unsuitable to be utilized in such an area. He should have considered manoeuvrability and convenience more instead of privacy when he stopped to cool his overheated systems down from the drive. Now, he hoped that Sam wouldn't pay the price for his carelessness.
Unacceptable.
"KnightFire, What's going on?"
Cannon humming loudly, KnightFire faced his creator. "Something is coming Sam. Hide yourself, I shall attempt to settle this -" A loud roar interrupted him and he turned to face the intruder. Battle systems clanging chaotically he aimed at the only entrance to the area, a gap in the walls covered by several rocks, and fired. Smoke rised into the air, embracing the melted figures of the rocks. Shifting his sensors outwards, KnightFire attempted to locate the threat, only to step backwards in shock as a blur shot out of the smoke and collided with him with blazing heat. Crashing against the rocks Sam was hiding at of all places, he snarled softly, optics blurring due to the sudden impact. Swinging his arms away from his chest to batter away a punch sent to his face, KnightFire disarmed his cannon and switched to his blades. They were by far the safest within such a close distance to his charge.
Slashing at his assailant, KnightFire forced him to back off to avoid a slashed neck. Optics resetting, he took a look at his opponent and widened his optics in shock. "Impossible" He whispered. There was absolutely no way that any of them could have reached the area so fast.
Steam rised from around him, reflecting the light waves and forming a halo around him. Melted sand pooled around his feet, testifying to how hot the mech had to be. How he had rushed to get here.
Roaring in rage as he lunged at KnightFire, the world twisted in a kaleidoscope of colours just as Sam screamed out loud.
"BUMBLEBEE!"
And the world exploded into a cascade of fireworks.
A/N
Well now ... Hides from potential readers throwing fruits at Wind for leaving the chapter at a cliffy ...
Sniff ... Sniff ... DONT BE ANGWEEEEE
Flinging self down in an uberly dramatic fashion, Wind accidentally trods on Plot Bunnies tail.
Whoops. (Gets whacked by chocolate milk drinking bunny)
Dawn walks in with reality puppy and stares at twitching authoress.
Sigh.
Well now. As the story-plot-shaping-chapter part of Wind of the Dawn (aka part of brain that comes up with ideas on how to continue chapters), let me just say this...
HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS ~~
Thank you so much to those people that reviewed or added my fanfic to your favourite or alert list! Wind is very happy !
As per some request, Wind has changed her writing format to side, not centre. Sorry bout the first chappie.
If its no trouble please leave a review and offer some opinions ~~ We seek ways to improve!
And if the linebreaks annoy you, please tell me .
CYA!
Wind of the Dawn out.
Btw ... Fireworks ...