Journey to the Past

.: Chapter I :.

A/N: So, this is all kinds of late– and I cannot apologise enough for that... life has been hectic for me lately, I just got a job and I'm busy getting myself into a routine for it now . this chapter gave me a lot of trouble as well, I've written it and rewritten it nearly five times and each one I've hated with a passion– either they were just plain crap or seemed too close to SavvyEnigma's version... even now I'm not too pleased with this but hell, I don't know what else to do with it so basically I said screw it and here it is. I hope you like it and I promise I will try and update again soon.

On a side note: thank you to everyone who has reviewed and/or alerted and faved this story. It means a lot to know you like my version of Savvy's amazing idea. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted version of a cool idea.

R&R

Chapter I


When Sam finally awoke some time later it was not to the blinding sunlight or blistering sands of the Egyptian desert as he had been expecting, no, instead he awoke to a dull ache within his mind and the innate feeling deep within his gut that told him in no short terms that something was very, very wrong. From what he could tell something had happened during the brief –or so he assumed anyway: it was extremely difficult to keep track of time while having been unconscious– time he had been unconscious, and while that usually wasn't much of a concern to the teenager, Sam couldn't deny the fact that something had changed– the mere fact that he could feel this new difference was clue enough that the change was big, and of course, knowing his usual bad luck Sam came to the conclusion that if he had noticed this sudden change within the world then it was probably related to something very important and more than likely linked to the giant alien robots that had invaded his planet.

Given the recent events that made up his insanely chaotic life it really wouldn't surprise him.

Of course that didn't exactly explain why he felt the way he did and Sam was coming up blank as to what could have caused such a sudden change. Granted he was still half asleep and his mind was hazy from his recent state of unconsciousness, not to mention he had a splitting headache, but Sam didn't think that really counted as a proper excuse when he had no idea where he was or what had happened in the time he'd been unconscious– not that he had any idea why he would even need to make up an excuse in the first place. It wasn't his fault that evil alien robots from space wanted to kill him and claim Earth's sun.

Sam heaved a sigh.

His head was aching like never before and his mind was so muddled up he was surprised he could even formulate a coherent thought. Either way, his current condition life him in a state of confused exhaustion and when Sam finally dredged up the will to move he was hit by a wave of overpowering pain that left him curled up into a tight shuddering mess of limbs, unable to stop the pitiful moan that slipped past his lips as the pain within his head intensified to the point he was sure his skull would crack in two.

He stayed like that for what felt like hours; curled up tightly with his hands to his head and his eyes clenched shut. He rode out the worst of the pain in agonized silence, jaw clenched and teeth grinding. For how long he stayed like this Sam couldn't say, it felt like hours but in reality it could have been mere minutes, truthfully he didn't really care and when the pain finally began to abate Sam found that his thoughts grew steadily clearer as the pain faded to a dull throb in the back of his mind.

Aside from the fading pain Sam noted something else, something that gained his attention and made his blood run cold. There were symbols; weird, alien, and yet all eerily familiar symbols running lazily across his blacked out vision like some wacked out version of The Matrix.

Sam felt a frown pull at the corner of his lips. What the hell is going on? He wondered curiously, and thinking back on the events that had landed him in this situation it didn't take long for the boy to recall the memory. However, when he did the frown deepened and he huffed out a bitter laugh as a single name falling from his lips; Megatron.

Of course it was. It was always Megatron. No matter how far he ran or how much he tried to deny it, it seemed blatantly obvious that Sam was never going to have a normal life; a life free from homicidal alien and robots in disguise. The thought was a rather depressing one and Sam idly wondered what he had done in his previous life to gain such a streak of bad luck. What had he done to gain such a messed up life; a life full of danger and terrifying robotic aliens set on destroying Earth? He didn't know and truth be told really he didn't care. There wasn't anything he could do about it and despite the daily drama, life threatening situations and constant near death experiences that came with evil alien overlords out for your blood; Sam found that he really didn't mind it.

He should have minded, really he should have, but he didn't. How could he? He had gained some of the best friends he would ever have. He had gained comrades and friends that would stay with him for life. He had gained a life where he actually mattered, a life where he could really make a difference. He gained his first car too– though that probably fell into the 'best friend' category, seeing as his car literally was his best friend.

Sam had gained a lot from the Autobots arrival on Earth and while he didn't regret meeting them he still found that he resented them, even if only a little. Because as great as they were their sudden arrival into his life had caused what little normalcy Sam had to be thrown out the window. He would never again have a normal life.

He'd tried once– to lead a normal life that is. Unfortunately it seemed to have ended rather terribly if his current situation was anything to go by, seeing as once again he had landed smack dab in the middle of another alien war.

He probably should have been mad about it. Hell, he probably could have hated them for dragging him back into the middle of their war after he specifically told them he wanted a normal life, but he didn't. Despite everything he loved them; they were family now and he wouldn't ever want to change that– not even for his version of a normal life. He knew better than to blame them for what he once saw as them ruining his life. They had always sought to protect him and keep him safe. He realized that now.

Still, none of that mattered at this point. What really mattered right now was finding out just where he was and what had happened; had they won? Was Optimus alright? Did his insane plan to bring the last Prime back to life work? Was Megatron finally dead? Were his parents okay? Mikaela, Bumblebee? Was the war over or not? He wanted, no, he needed to know. Less importantly he also wanted to know what the hell those symbols were still doing in his head. They were starting to get annoying and if memory served him correctly –which it did, thank you very much– they made him act like a weirdo... well, more than usual anyway.

Heaving a sigh Sam decided it was about time to get some answers. He knew most of what had happened earlier from memory, namely; he remembered the shard of the Allspark, the freaky alien symbols inside his head, the fact that Megatron wasn't dead and then there was the crazy old ex-con that decided it would be fun to teleport them to Egypt in order to find an alien artifact that may or may not have existed to bring Optimus back to life and stop the Fallen from destroying the sun.

Well, that was the short version anyway. There was probably a lot of other stuff too but it wasn't important– well okay, it was important, but right now the only thing Sam was interested in was finding out where he was.

It was with that thought in mind that Sam finally opened his eyes. Now with his vision restored the young boy took the time to glance about his immediate surrounding and soon came to a rather startling discovery– he wasn't in Egypt anymore.

Oh this can't be good. He stared blankly at the darkened sky; eyes roaming nervously from side to side at the tall –more like towering– buildings that rose up all around him. They were huge, absolutely monstrous. The buildings were taller than anything he had ever seen before in his life and crafted from what looked to be various types of coloured metal. It was insane. It was completely alien and yet it was also eerily familiar. The longer Sam stared at them the more he found that they felt familiar and it took him quite a few minutes to realize just why they felt that way.

Turns out it was because he had seen them before, in holo-vids shown to him by Bumblebee and the other Autobots. This place, it was Cybertron. He was either having a very lucid dream or he had finally gone bat-shit insane, because all his little human logic was telling him that this couldn't be real. There was just no way that he, a mere human, could be standing –or sitting down as the case may be– on the home planet of his newfound alien friends... there was just no way.

Yet no matter how many times he ordered himself to wake up; no matter how many times he closed his eyes and ordered himself to wake up, the results were always the same and the buildings never changed. Those symbols were still there too, crawling slowly over the left side of his vision.

This couldn't be happening, there was no way this could be real yet he had that horrible little gut feeling that said it was. He didn't know how or why but somehow he knew this was real– if only for the fact that his limited human intelligence could never have come up with a realistic dream such as this.

Sam shut his eyes and dropped his head into his hands, only to immediately snap them open as the quite clinking sound of metal on metal echoed in the silence. He paused; nervously scanning the immediate area with the twitchy, anxious, movements of a human on the verge of what could be seen as a well deserved panic attack. As his gaze roamed the dimly lit alleyway, for he soon realized that was where he was, confusion swirled within him as nothing moved within the dim lighting.

This confused him greatly. There was nothing there; granted he couldn't see much in the darkness, but he had that weird sense of knowing that there was nothing there. He was alone. Yet where had that noise come from then?

A cold feeling of dread slowly crept up his spine and Sam held back a shudder as a thought entered his mind. He suddenly felt very sick. "Oh. Oh no. Please no... don't tell me... oh god... let this be a dream, let this be just a really bad dream." He all but whimpered as his gaze flickered slowly, and with great reluctance, down to his hands and whatever Sam had been expecting to see it certainly wasn't the silvery sheen of metal. "Oh fuck."

Metal. There was metal on his hands... Okay no, that wasn't right. The metal wasn't just on him– it was him! He was made of metal! His hands and his arms and his legs... they were all made of metal, and not just any metal, oh no... No, that would have been too easy and nothing in Sam's life was ever easy. So of course it wasn't just normal metal, nope, he was made from Cybertronian alloy.

"Oh god..."

This couldn't be happening. This was not happening; he didn't want it to be happening! God damnit, why him, why was it always him? First it was the Allspark, then the shard, then the Matrix and now this? How the hell was that even fair, what the hell had he ever done to deserve this!

Sam dropped his head into his hands and gave an odd little whine of frustration. He was made of metal. He wasn't even human anymore. He was a god damned alien– and not just any kind of alien but a freaking Cybertronian. It was too much for him to handle and hell, he didn't even know how he was going to handle this! How the hell was he, a mere human turned alien, supposed to survive in a new body on a planet that by all accounts should have been destroyed? It was insane– far more than any weird little symbols in his head and Sam just could not deal with this right now...

A hysterical laugh bubbled in his throat and Sam felt the sting of tears prick at the corner of his eyes –or optics he guessed they were called now– and vaguely he was surprised that he could still even cry. But that was soon lost to his current state of disbelieving horror. This was insane, absolutely insane. Sam sniffled and hugged himself tightly, his entire frame shaking with the effort to keep himself together. He knew he couldn't afford to break down now; he needed to get somewhere safe, but he just couldn't bring himself to move or care.

This wasn't a dream. It was a bloody nightmare and Sam really wanted to wake up now.

He was panicking. He knew he was but he didn't care. No one could blame him for it either because no one had ever been in a situation like his and he didn't know what to do– what could he do? He was just a kid. A human turned alien stuck on an alien planet with no clue how to survive and no one there to help him. He was terrified. He was so fucking scared and lost and just... what was he going to do?

A red warning sign appeared in his vision –warning him that his body, his systems, were in danger of overheating– and Sam, well, he just sorta... snapped. He just... he couldn't deal with this. He didn't want to deal with this and he sure as hell didn't know how to deal with this. So what else could he do in a situation like this? For Sam, he reverted to what he did best and ended up having a major freak out that soon turned into one hell of a mental breakdown.

This of course lead to his new body –systems– overheating pretty damn quickly and doing the only thing they could to keep him alive; they shut down and Sam's world was sent into darkness once more.

...