When Seekers Protect.
Chapter Two.
A/N: After repeated requests, the next chapter of this fic is here, as the friend whose idea this was and asked me to wait a bit has written her first chapter. It starts of from Sam's POV so may read a bit strange, but otherwise, enjoy!
Running. He was running, and it was fear that fuelled his flight. The big silver one – Megatron, he recalled- was reaching, attacking, shouting threats. Then he was falling, crying out, the silver AllSpark tumbling too. Then the scene changed, to a yellow mech dragging itself forward, its legs gone. This one, too was reaching for him, but it did not feel threatening.
Again the scene changed, the images fragmented and seeming to have no sequence, moving faster and faster. A human face, the hair long and lustrous, the eyes dark and worried, the skin smooth and lightly tanned, 'Mikaela' his mind supplied. Then it was replaced with almost the opposite – a pale face, male, with hair limp and lifeless. Then another female face, older, the hair shorter and redder, and then another male face, older, the hair dark where he still had it. He knew all these people, he was sure, but their names eluded him.
Another change of scene, as a shadow towered over him, menacing red optics glinting as a cruel-looking knuckle-spiked hand reached down towards him with inimical intent. He shied back, twisting to avoid that grasp-
And woke with a cry as he registered those same red optics looking down at him, and flailed at the spike-knuckled hands that cradled him against another unyielding but warm surface. He was confused, for more recently, this voice had spoken to him kindly, the hands had been gentle. He was confused. Was this one a friend or an enemy, his carer or a killer? Working it out would take coherent thought, but at that moment coherent thought and logic deserted him in the face of nightmare-turned-real, and he squealed in terror as he fought to escape.
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Winglet-Sam had gone into recharge quite calmly, so his screech and struggles took Starscream completely by surprise. His grip around the winglet tightened instinctively as its motion threatened to tip it, but this only served to panic the youngling more.
"Sam, Sam, please calm down, it's okay, you're safe!" Starscream tried to reassure the winglet, but the sound of his voice only seemed to send it into fresh paroxysms. He saw a blur of yellow and silver move over and turned, hoping that a different pair of hands would ease the sparkling's struggles.
"Here, you take him before he hurts himself! See if he trusts you more, but be careful, he's strong for a little one!" Starscream cautioned as he tipped the writhing sparkling into Bumblebee's big blunt hands.
It was instinctive for the yellow Autobot scout to scoop the struggling form close, holding him against his chest, stroking down him with one hand and running his engine soothingly, but the instinct appeared to be the right one. Sparkling-Sam quieted, snuggling up against the warm chassis, his struggles subsiding as he looked up at Bumblebee trustingly, his faceplates switching in a few moments to a confused look. It seemed that, on some level, whatever had happened had confused winglet-Sam as much as it had the Seeker he had just been recharging in the arms of. He was still eyeing the bigger Seeker warily, but the terror that had gripped him was gone.
Starscream took a slow step forward, and then another, reaching out one hand as he did so. At this, sparkling-Sam jerked back, still nervous. Starscream turned to Ratchet, who had come out at the commotion. "What's the matter? Doesn't he remember that I flew him here? Doesn't he remember that he let me pick him up immediately after his change?"
"I can check him out with a deep scan, and I can do a copy of his memory chips and processor coding," Ratchet offered. "His enSparkment was unusual to say the least, we may find answers there." He nodded, towards where Ironhide had entered, holding data leads. "I believe you took up Ironhide's offer to verify his memories of a sparkling massacre?"
Starscream shuddered briefly, but indeed, he had accepted the Autobot Weapon's Specialist's offer, so nodded. Ratchet sat them down, connected them both up, and then took Sam from Bumblebee, connecting him up to the medbay computer. He ran a program that would copy the information on his memory chips, while Ratchet simultaneously scanned him and projected holograms to keep him still for the scan. Once the Autobot medic had finished, he handed Sam back to Bumblebee, along with a can of medical-grade energon, and began reviewing the copy of Sam's memories.
Ratchet had had half-a-dozen vague suspicions ranging over as many different theories as to Sam's reactions, but his studies narrowed it down to one likely contender. Sam's memories seemed to be fragmented, with parts missing, others vague and all jumbled up. Some fragments were crystal clear, others confused, missing bits, or even whole events that Ratchet knew Sam had experienced, and Ratchet now had a working theory on the cause of the jumbled and incomplete memory record.
Starscream, now disconnected from Ironhide and drinking a small cube of what smelt suspiciously like high-grade, wandered over to peer over his shoulder at the screens full of the code that represented Sam's memories.
"Hmm, what's that?" he asked. "Sam's memories, in data form." Ratchet explained. "It looks very disjointed, or is that just the way your computer stores data?" Starscream asked, reminding Ratchet that the Seeker was a scientist and could read basic and intermediate coding. "It is disjointed and incomplete." Ratchet confirmed. "I think I know why, although much of this is speculation and conjecture, supported by circumstantial evidence and what little we do know about the AllSpark."
"Care to share your theories?" Starscream asked. "Perhaps if we work together, we can help work out this conundrum between us." Ratchet only had to give it an astrosecond's thought before nodding, a decisive movement of his head.
"We know that the AllSpark gave life to our race, one that is very different from that of the humans, who reproduce via biological material," Ratchet explained. "We also know that AllSpark energy was used during Sam's transition from dead human to live sparkling." "Yes," Starscream replied, wishing Ratchet would just get to the point.
"My theory was that as he was organic, and the AllSpark is used to mechanical life, it was not able to save all of his memories from an organic storage module to a mechanical one," Ratchet said. "It was learning 'on the job' so to speak, but by the time it worked out how to transfer them, some were already lost. As humans store their memories in a disorganised fashion as it is, what it has managed to transfer is all muddled up."
"But I picked him up and cared for him after his change. Why didn't he remember me?" the Seeker asked. "I assume that he did, but that among some of the fragmentary memories his sparkling mind accessed were ones of the Mission City battle," said the medic. "Sam would be at best confused with two conflicting sets of memories, at worst unable to access the good ones before panicking over the bad ones." Starscream huffed through his vents. "I suppose it makes sense," he replied sulkily.
"Now, there is a solution to this," Ratchet continued, as if Starscream hadn't said anything. "I can manually sort out the memories he has on this computer, and upload them to him, overwriting the existing memories with the newly-organised ones. He won't lose any more, but what he has will be easier to access and understand, and there will be gaps. We can help fill him in on the parts where we were present, but his earlier memories will have to be recounted to him by his human friends and family."
"Speaking of which, do his human creators know yet what has happened to him?" Starscream asked. Ratchet let out a mechanical groan as he recalled Ron and Judy, and tried to think of a way to inform them. "No they don't, at least not yet," he replied, turning to look at Bumblebee, who had finished feeding Sam and was lulling him back into recharge. "Bumblebee, can you call the Witwicky household and tell his creators that Sam is spending this night at the Base." Bumblebee whistled a quiet affirmative, and Ratchet turned back to Starscream.
"Well, it's the truth, and I think it best that we know what state his memories and processors are in – and that we try to put them in as much order as we can – before we tell them and bring them in to see him." He huffed. "As such, I will make a start now, the more I get done now, the more time I have to find the best way to tell them later." He turned back to the copy of Sam's memories, already searching for and putting in order almost everything that had happened since Sam had met the Autobots, at least most of that could be checked and referenced with his own memories or Bumblebee's .
Starscream recognised a dismissal when he saw it, and wandered over towards the refuelling station.
"Then I shall get in some fly-time and discuss teaching schedules with my wing brothers," he said. "He will have to start to learn how to fly soon, you know." There was no reply from Ratchet, who was now deeply engrossed in his task, so Starscream twitched his wings – much as a human might shrug his shoulders - and set about refuelling.
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Several hours later, Ratchet had finished. Sam was still in recharge, for which Ratchet was grateful, as it meant he did not have to take another copy and search it for the most recent memories. He beckoned Bumblebee over, and hooked up his computer to the recumbent sparkling.
"Now, as I told Starscream, he won't lose any memories, these are the same memories in a more orderly format," he explained. "It turns out much of his language understanding is present, he just doesn't know how to use his vocal processor to form words, so I've put in a copy of all basic programming and automatic body mechanic function. I have given him the standard amount of self diagnostics, and I've also given him an overview of Cybertronian history, leading up to and including the current situation, it will save us explaining any of it later, and hopefully help fill in the gaps in his recent memories regarding Starscream and us. Add to that an explanation of Seeker sparkling protection programming, and the Treaty of Iacon, and that should cover most of the questions he might otherwise ask."
"Okay," said Bumblebee, and taking that as assent from Sam's currently-present guardian, Ratchet pressed a few buttons to start the transfer. "Sam has images of his parents but does not recall that they are such. He will need some more explanations from you. I trust I can leave you to fill in the gaps, the last thing we need is Sam asking who they are. Perhaps the AllSpark itself did not realise that "mother" and "father" are terms for mech and femme creator among humans. Whatever the reason for the omission, I'll leave that task to you."
"Okay," Bumblebee said, picking Sam up, who began to revive as Ratchet disconnected the cables.
The sparkling clung to Bumblebee as the latter picked him up. He unshuttered his optics, looked around with a wide, blue-opticked stare, and said "Ratchet...and...Bee? Bumblebee?" "Sam, yes, it's me and Ratchet. How are you feeling?" Bumblebee asked. Ratchet had warned Bumblebee earlier that Sam's memories of how he had got that way were intact, but that as a traumatic experience, it was best to let Sam bring it up when his processors decided to let him and not before. "Better than I should, under the circumstances," he said, telling Ratchet that Sam could talk about said experience, albeit obliquely, which was a good sign. "But where's Starscream, and the other Seekers? As I recall, they were here earlier?"
"They're having a flight and discussing teaching you how to fly," Ratchet said, although that was not what he would have guessed to be one of Sam's first questions upon waking up in control of his vocaliser and language programming. "They're gonna teach me how to fly? Cool!" Sam said. Ratchet wasn't sure if Sam was taking his change in his stride or had just not come out of the shock of it yet, but this acceptance was still good, whatever the reason, as long as he didn't go to pieces when facing his parents tomorrow. Ron and Judy were going to be upset about it no matter how gently Ratchet told them. If Sam lost it tomorrow it would make things far worse.
"Yes Sam, you have to learn to fly," Ratchet told him. "You're a type of flier called a 'Seeker': Starscream and his trine are also Seekers and without flight Seekers go insane." "Does that explain Starscream? Did he go a bit too long without flight after being sparked?" Sam asked with a cheeky grin to indicate he was joking even as Bumblebee said "Sam!" in an admonishing tone of voice. "Just kidding, but don't repeat that to him," Sam said to clarify.
"Sam, Starscream will be in to teach you sometime soon, but first Bumblebee wants to go through certain portions of your memory with you to clarify a few things that might be a bit disconcerting otherwise," Ratchet told the sparkling. "Not all your memories were saved, so Bumblebee will help you where he can, starting off with a few we think are particularly important: for example, who some of the people in your images are, and what they may expect of you."
"Okay," Sam said, and Bumblebee took that as his cue to begin, projecting an image of Judy on to the wall opposite, and next to it an image of Ron. "These are your human Creators, the femme with red hair is Judy, the mech – or 'male' in human terms – is Ron. Your term of address for Judy would be 'Mom', and you'd call Ron 'Dad', or maybe 'father'. If you look through your memories you will see you have had both happy and sad times with them as they have brought you into the world and brought you up..."
At that point Ratchet decided that Bumblebee had the situation well in hand, and decided to grab a few hours of recharge, hoping that would help him find a way to break the news to Ron and Judy. 'Hi, your son got stamped on by a Decepticon but it's okay, because he's changed into a baby Cybertronian' somehow didn't sound right. He sighed as he climbed into a recharge pod and set the timer for three human hours. However things went, tomorrow was going to be a tough day.
