The yellow Camaro came zipping out of the open hangar door before they even approached it. In a bright flash of yellow and silver, Bumblebee has transformed, and is crouching down, hovering a bit.
Sam smiles a bit in spite of himself. "Hey, Bee."
"What I tell you?" Will yells over his shoulder, still heading toward the hangar. "Panic attack."
"You alright, son?" drawls some cowboy or another.
"I'm fine, Bee. Unless you want to yell at the drivers for hitting a pothole in the road, don't sic Ratchet on me yet." Sam starts to walk around the yellow scout and follow Will's footsteps.
Bumblebee chirps as he walks past and nudges him gently with a finger.
"No gates- all ran down!"
"Nope. No gate ramming. Now get your aft inside before Optimus yells at both of us." Bee chirps again and tilts his head, seeming either amused or insulted. "Let's go." Sam calls back, beckoning to his guardian hurriedly. He's sick of being left out of everything, and he's not about to be late for his first official NEST meeting ever just because him and Bee have some catching up to do. There's plenty of paved roads and joyriding for that later.
No one he walks past is really surprised to see him there once he gets inside. He knows they shouldn't be- not after he nearly broke down the NEST gate before and Bumblebee came charging out to level his cannon at anyone who got too near him, not after he fought in Chicago with the few soldiers that are left. He may only be the messenger, but he's still one of them, and he's proved that three times over.
Also, after watching that shuttle get blown up and thinking that every single one of his alien robot warrior friends had been blow to hell, he's not ready to get out of a five mile radius of them, not yet.
Carly understands. She's spending the weekend with her dad, and then she's coming here with him, because he's not ready to be too far from her either.
Also, he knows the 'in between' job is over now. This is where he belongs. This is where he's always belonged.
He walks further into the hangar, and glances around, impressed. The space is big- it is meant to hold several alien robots, after all. Not just one, but two balconies wrap around the walls where the second and third floor should be, and there's a massive stand so that the puny humans can see eye-to-optic with the Autobots. Kind of. Not to mention way too many computers and classified-thingies to count.
A big group is standing around the base of the stand. Ratchet's towering form sticks out like a sky scrapper among the humans, while Sideswipe is keeping a lower profile behind the stand, and the Wreckers are all parked around in alt-mode. He spots Lennox and Epps at the back, discreetly muttering to each other without breaking eye contact with Mrs. Mearing, and the uniforms of both officials and NEST soldiers alike. Simmons is also there, parked on the stand behind Charlotte Mearing, he notices with some amusement. He quickly walks up to the back of the group, hoping to go unnoticed by any of the higher-ups or the previously-deemed Psycho Lady.
"Samuel." rumbles Ratchet.
Epic. Fail.
"Ah, Mr. Witwicky." says Charlotte Mearing, even as he winces. He swallows and looks up, eyes bright. "Glad you could finally join us." she snips.
"Sorry." He sounds like a damn high school freshman late to his first day of class. It definitely feels like it.
She simply sighs, nods, light reflecting oddly off her glasses, and goes back to addressing the entire NEST company.
There's a thinner line between them now. She had the balls to stand in Sentinel's face and yell at him right as he was blowing up the base, in his mind, and he has saved the world- again. Again again. Usually that would be enough to win anyone's respect for a lifetime, but he was the one who back talked her to her face the first night he met her after ramming her security gate down.
Again; there's a thinner line between them now.
He glances sheepishly up at Bee, who just shrugs and shifts his weight to his other foot, putting his hands on his hips.
Sam tries to pay attention to the rest of the meeting.
It was all stuff he had heard before; just like after Mission City and Giza, but different. Damages taken, blah blah blah. Damages inflicted, blah blah blah. The easiest part of all is that in this meeting, they don't have to try to introduce the general public to the Autobots, thank God. That was the hardest thing imaginable. And even better, now that the world has seen what the world would become without them, there seems to be a lot more positive reception for the time being. He's just glad that there isn't any talk of sending them off world again, and that they're all here alive to hear it.
Well, not all of them.
He thinks of Ironhide again and flinches inside. It's all the worse when he realizes that this is absolutely nothing compared to how the Autobots must be feeling. He glances up then, at Bee, then Ratchet, and over at Sideswipe. The silver warrior is unreadable as ever, even more so because Sam doesn't know him that well. But the other two he's known- and known well- for six years, and he can tell just by looking at their faces that something is wrong. Too blank. Like staring at a cement wall. Their faces were never like that- not even when they first landed.
Sorrow is sorrow, no matter the difference in species; it is written in the same language. It is felt.
Sam looks down again, and then sighs through his nose and rocks back on his heels. They got over Jazz, though they still miss him; he knows they'll get over this. It will just take time. And no matter how much they miss Ironhide, he knows they are so lucky.
Brains is gone, too. And Wheeljack. But nearly all the Wreckers survived, Optimus survived, albeit barely, and so did Ratchet and Bumblebee and Sideswipe and Mirage, and Megatron is dead (hopefully for good this time) and Optimus himself said it, they're never leaving Earth again. Even this meeting is going pretty good, as much as he can tell. What's not to be thankful for?
"…And as for punishment for breaking the NEST code-"
What?
"-And wishes of the people of Earth that the Autobots leave-"
"Punishment?" Sam bursts out, outraged. "What the hell are you going to punish them for, saving the planet?"
"Took the words right out of the mouth." growls Will, surprising him a bit.
"Mine too." Epps mutters back to him.
"The Autobots did nothing wrong! It's only thanks to them that we're all standing here talking about this and not in one of Megatron's slave camps."
"Be that as it may, Mr. Witwicky," she replies, back going stiff, "I have no control over what the president or the Cabinet order around here. Punishing treason is their jurisdiction, not mine."
"I can't believe the president ordered this." Sam says in furious disbelief. "I had dinner with him- the guy supports the Autobots, he's not stupid enough to punish them for doing something right."
"The president cannot overrule the entire Cabinet." Charlotte Mearing says loudly, cutting across the rest of his tirade. "Or the demands of Congress for that matter. If you want to take it up with the entire government of the Untied States of America, be my guest, Mr. Witwicky, but I assure you, you won't get any farther than I did."
It suddenly dawns on him that, one, Optimus isn't at this meeting and two, Charlotte Mearing may be a valuable ally. At first he thought they had a second Galloway on their hands; prejudiced, ignorant, and bossy. But this woman was no coward, and she even admitted to telling the government to shove it over this punishment issue with the Autobots. She may have changed a bit. And he sure as hell needs her on his side if one, he wants to live long enough to get a real job here and two, actually having some friends in government positions isn't a bad thing.
"We'll see." he finally says, and shoves his faith into the fact that the Autobots did nothing wrong, and that he is still living and breathing because of it. His mind is already working out what he'll say when he does talk to whoever is in charge; people like that have a strange way of finding him easily since this last international alien incident. The president will want to talk to him. He gave him a medal, for Christ's sake. Then he'll think about taking on the Congress or whoever the hell is jumping down their throats this time.
She blinks, looking a bit stonewalled, and Bumblebee looks down at him, chirping in concern. He doesn't break eye contact with her until she straightens her glasses and carries on with the rest of her meeting, this time concerning the missing Decepticons.
When they finally break, Will rounds on him immediately, Epps at his side. "Are you insane?" he hisses, keeping his voice down so that the passing officers won't hear.
Sam rolls his eyes. "By now, I'd be surprised if I wasn't."
"Super freak, super freak! Listen to the soldier." Bumblebee calls down in his voices of and rock stars.
"He's damn right." Epps says, pointing up at Bee.
"Look man," Will tells him, leaning a bit closer, "I know we didn't exactly cover the whole psychiatric PTS thing with you after Mission City, or even Giza, but now might be some serious time to consider some therapy-"
"Or a vacation." suggests Epps.
"-or retiring-"
"-going AWOL-"
"-Just disappear-"
"-sector seven disappear-"
"Do you trust me?" Sam asks suddenly, raising his eyebrows.
Silence. Epps and Will glance at each other.
"Do you trust me?" Sam repeats. He steps forward and points at Will. "You flew all the way to Giza and pushed Galloway out of a plane because you believed I could do the impossible." He looks at Epps. "You got all your NEST buddies and went all the way to ground zero because I said we could do it." he looks between both of them. "I'm going to take that as yes."
"Sam-" begins Will, looking worried.
"I've never gotten you guys into anything that hasn't got us back in one piece." Sam says, feeling a bit suicidal for interrupting the seasoned major. "I'm not saying I'm perfect-" he thinks with a flash of the watch glinting off his wrist and swallows thickly, feeling like he's fallen through the floor, "-Far, far from it." He looks determinedly into both of their eyes. "But I'm not just going to sit back and let them try to steamroll the Autobots." A few seconds silence stretches out at Epps glances at Will, who has his ice-blue eyes trained on Sam. "And I know you guys won't let that happen either. Are you with me?"
Will sighs heavily, venting air out his nose, and his square jaw works as he rocks back on his heels, looking off to the side. Epps crosses his arms and fingers his jacket silently.
Will shakes his head, coming back to the present and looks at him again. "You're a wild card, kid, I'll give you that." he says suddenly, and a smirk quirks up at the corner of his mouth. "You always have been."
Sam blinks, suddenly a bit nervous. "Not sure what you mean, but…thanks."
Epps grins. "He means you never stop surprising us. I went through hell with you in Chicago, man, and I'm pretty sure that this can't be that much worse. I'm with you all the way."
"Me too." Will tells him.
Sam sighs, feeling like a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders. One of them, anyways. "Thanks, guys."
"Just don't go biting off more than you can chew." Will warns, as him and his best friend begin to move aside.
Sam grins. "Do I ever?"
They both laugh at that, and Epps pats him on the shoulder as they walk past with a muttered "You're crazy man."
Panic suddenly seized Sam's chest as he realized he forgot to ask something. "Hey Will!" he calls.
The black-haired warrior turns his way. "Do you know where I can find Optimus?"
Will thinks and shrugs. "Ask the chief." he says, ducking his head a bit as he points up at Ratchet.
Sam turns and spots the medic conferring with Simmons up on the stand. Sam starts making his way over there. "I'll see you in a minute, Bee." he says, patting the scout's leg as he walks past.
Bee chirps and gives him a thumbs up. He doesn't care if he can't exactly see Sam, just as long as he's close enough to blast any Decepti-creeps that take two strides near him.
He's making good progress.
As Sam approaches the stand, Simmons glances down at him, breaking off from his conversation with the medic- whatever the hell they could be talking about, he has no idea, as he's fairly sure Ratchet isn't too concerned with Simmons's busted leg.
"Ah, alien boy makes his return." The man calls down grandly. "First you want to take on Megatron and Sentinel, now your own standard U.S government?" Sam comes to a halt at the base of the stand. "I always said you were a magnet for alien trouble, kid, but this…this is crazy!" he roars, and his wheelchair rocks back on its axels.
Sam flinches and glances at Ratchet.
"They gave him pain meds." the medic explains.
Simmons cackles, throwing his head back so far Sam is surprised it doesn't snap.
"Too many pain meds." Ratchet elaborates.
Which would explain why Ratchet the Hatchet was talking to him in the first place.
"Yeah…yeah, I can see that." Sam says, and turns to the Autobot. "Where's Optimus?"
"In recharge." Ratchet deadpans. "Re-attaching an arm after a battle with Megatron and Sentinel is laborious work even for our repair systems, and he had to debrief twice in the past two days. He won't be up until tomorrow at the latest. Why?" he asks suddenly.
"I just wanted to talk to him." Sam says, barely dodging that bullet. "About…stuff."
"I see." the medic says wryly. "And does this stuff have anything to do with you having a death wish?"
Sam starts. "Huh?" Ratchet isn't seriously threatening him, is he? He's gone of the deep end before, but-
"Your wrist." says the medic dryly. "Dare I ask what you've been injecting into your systems the past few days?"
Sam glances down and feels his stomach turn over at the sight of the double-rowed scars winding around his wrist, and covers them with his other hand. "Nothing." he says evasively. "Honest. I just had this, um, watch- must have scraped off some skin in Chicago."
"Then you'd have a scrape, not puncture holes." Ratchet growls, slowly squatting down to bring his intimidating- though concealed- saws closer. Sam swallows, and knows that's what's on the medic's mind as well.
"I don't know. I'll let you check it out later, okay?" he says, getting panicky, and starts rambling. "Or maybe I should go to a human doctor for human injuries- you know, so you don't break one of my joints thinking it's a clog or something-"
"Don't be ridiculous." snorts Ratchet, and pushes himself back up, much to Sam's relief. He broke a sweat, and he knows it. No one lies to Ratchet, and while normally the medic flips over Autobot-related injuries (which are so much more costly to fix due to lacks of certain off-world metals) he only get's formal and grave over human injuries with NEST- that's who he saves the bedside-manners for. Sam knows Ratchet won't waste any of those on someone who's seen him get tripped out in his back yard by a bunch of power lines. He's at least counting on the medic not throwing any wrenches at him.
"Mr. Witwicky." snaps a voice and Sam's back stiffens. He turns to see Charlotte Mearing crossing the warehouse, her face like a thundercloud and her glasses flashing like lightening. "A word in my office, please." she says, albeit a little nicer.
Sam meekly nods, and freezes when he hears Simmons' voice overhead. "Ever know how they get these lights so…sparkly?" he drawls, staring up at the ceiling with a glazed-looking expression.
"Ratchet, please, see if you can give him something to counter-dose whatever's got him seven miles high." she says, sounding infuriated. Her glare at Simmons has enough daggers in it to fill a piñata.
"I'll see what I can do." Ratchet responds somewhat dryly, though Sam wonders if the lady can tell. He sighs follows Charlotte Mearing with one last glance back at Simmons. "He's…something, isn't he?" he tries, going for a topic of conversation they can both agree on.
Charlotte snorts as she leads him to the wall of the warehouse and up a flight of stairs onto the wrap-around second floor. "I'd say you have no idea, but given the past circumstances of the last few years you probably do."
"Yeah, you could say that." Sam replies, thinking of Simmons at Hoover Dam, Jordan, and the underground Russian bar he dragged him to. "I thought you had him arrested." he remembers suddenly.
"He's too rich to keep in jail." she growls.
Sam grins in spite of himself.
She leads him to a door set into the wall between to large stations of computers, and Sam realizes that there must actually be a second floor for this to be possible, meaning that this warehouse is even bigger than he thought. She unlocks it from a key that she pulls out of nowhere, and ushers him inside.
It looks a lot like her old office back in D.C, only without all the medals and a cheaper desk. She sits behind it, her battle face already on, reminding him why they're here.
"Now look, Sam." she says, fixing him with her beady stare. He's surprised- that's the first time he's ever heard her use his first name.
"I wasn't lying when I told you I had underestimated you." she says, folding her hands on her desk. Sam shifts nervously in his seat, and wishes Carly were here with him. She'd know something brilliant to say. "And if I said that before Chicago, you can bet to hell I sure mean it now."
"Thanks…"
"But," she says sharply, and he starts. "That doesn't mean I'm just going to let you parade around in NEST doing whatever the hell you want."
He blinks. "Sorry?"
"Demanding dinner with the president? Ordering me to listen to you? I can tolerate that to an extent, Mr. Witwicky, I've learned to where your Autobots are concerned, but I won't be shown up in front of NEST and you can bet that attitude won't get you anywhere with the president."
"He likes me." Sam says automatically. "He gave me a medal."
Her stare is deadpan.
Sam shakes his head. "Look that's not what I mean." he says quickly, holding out his hands. "I'm not trying to order anyone around- that's Optimus' job, not mine. Having someone hear me out once and a while- that would be nice, cause so far Will Lennox, Robert Epps, and Secretary of Defense John Keller are the only ones who do. You did once- after you threatened me with treason just a few minutes after meeting me- and I'm sick of being ignored." She opens her mouth to respond, but he leans forward, trying to enforce his point. "I'm not saying that anyone should listen to me, Mrs. Mearing, just that they should hear me out, because the Autobots know full well I know what I'm doing, and it's about time you guys did, too." Hasn't he proved that three times already?
"I know the Autobots mean you nothing but the best, Sam," she says coldly. "But if all they've given you is a big ego, maybe it's time they stepped down a little where you're concerned."
"I'm not getting cocky or anything," he assures her. "Honestly, I've been kidnapped by Decepticons and made myself look like an idiot way too much for that to happen. But I do know what's right and wrong where the Autobots are concerned, and I know they did nothing wrong. And you know it too." he adds, remembering what she said earlier. "I'm kind of known for having a smart mouth, Mrs. Mearing, but isn't that what politics is all about? I know the Autobots better than anyone- Except maybe Will- and contrary to popular belief, I'm not just a kid anymore."
He leans forward, looking deep into her eyes, trying to will her to understand. "I'm not a kid anymore. I majored in political science when I graduated college, I know how to defend them better than anyone, and I have faith in them. Why shouldn't I try to talk with the president about this? And one thing I've learned is that if you don't yell loud enough, these bigwigs will just steam roll you flat. I'm not going to let anyone steam roll the Autobots, not after what happened with Galloway or the space shuttle. I'm not doing this to be a brat- I'm doing it because I know what's right."
He sits back, and let's that sink in, and can't help himself from tacking on, "If you don't want me, that's fine, but I should tell you that Will's diplomacy skills aren't as sharp as his battle skills. He doesn't like-"
"That's enough." Mrs. Mearing says, holding out a hand, and he mentally smirks. It seems, by the look on her face, that the Hoover Dam incident that ended with Will pinning Simmons to the hood of a car with a gun over his heart has probably reached her ears as well.
"So basically what you're telling me," she says slowly. "Is that you're the man for the job, whether I like it or not?"
He blinks, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.
"If you want Will…"
"Sam." she interrupts, looking at him over the rim of her glasses. But she doesn't say anything else. They sit like that for a while, boy staring at older Psycho Lady, green eyes locked on light blue. She seems to be looking for something, but he's not sure what.
"What if I told you," she says carefully, breaking the silence, "That I could get the president on webcam right now and have you two duel it out in my office? This instant?"
He shrugs. "Yeah, ok. Do it."
"I'm not bluffing."
"Neither am I."
Silence stretches out between them again. He wasn't bluffing, and he meant it. He'd rather have time to take a shower, eat something, and think about what the hell he's going to say, but the sooner he can get this started, the sooner they can live without the threat of punishment over their heads.
She sighs suddenly, and pulls of her glasses, rubbing her temples with one hand while polishing the lenses with another on her shirt. "You never stop, do you, Sam?" she asks.
The corner of his lips twitches in a smile, as he remembers a sixteen-year old high-schooler who clung to a statue on a rooftop in full fear, but defied Megatron till the very end, even if it meant getting smashed onto the street below.
"No sacrifice, no victory."
The words seem to strike her, and she pauses, and looks at him carefully, glasses still in one hand. "I think I've heard that somewhere before."
"Optimus?"
"Bumblebee."
"Yeah, he would remember that."
"I know you have faith in what's right, Sam." she says seriously, and settles her glasses back on her nose. "But I need to know…do you have faith in yourself?"
He looks her dead in the eye. He still doesn't think of himself as a hero, despite what that shiny medal in his bedroom might say. Even in Mission City, when he was the one who destroyed the Allspark and took out Megatron, it still wasn't him. It was them, it had been them all along. And as he raced through those streets, and through the hot sands at Giza, and through the ruins of Chicago to the Master Pillar, he knew, inside, that he could do the impossible, because he had to. But this wasn't about him; this had never been just about him, and she needs to know that. "I have faith in the Autobots, Mrs. Mearing. That's all I need to believe in."