It seems a chapter can't go by when Sam doesn't get hurt. I suppose I am rather mean to him.
Suggestions for where y'all want the story to go are welcome. I have a hazy outline, but very few things are definite.
Most of all, enjoy!
Sam watched with fascination as mech after mech left the ship. Even from where he was standing, he could hear the Cybertronian they were speaking, and it made him smile. Suddenly one of the new mechs spoke English for the first time.
"What an odd language," he said slowly. "It's so slow, almost tranquil."
"Beachcomber, it's good to see you," Optimus greeted, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"It's good to see you as well, Optimus Prime," Beachcomber replied almost shyly. "I thought we'd never find you. It's only by chance we got the message, you know. We were starting to fear we were the last remaining Autobots."
Beachcomber responded to a Cybertronian noise and stepped aside. As soon as Sam saw that mech, he had a pretty good idea of who it was by the way he carried himself. Optimus' greeting just confirmed his suspicions.
"Greetings Prowl."
"Greetings Optimus Prime," Prowl replied formally. "I am happy to see you alive and well."
"The same to you," Optimus responded. "Now, who all have we got here?"
"Well, there's myself and Beachcomber, our medic First Aid, Mirage, Hound, the security director Red Alert, and the twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe." Sam couldn't help but notice the contempt the mech put on the last two names.
"Eight new Autobots," Jazz said with a low hum. "We'll have to expand the base. For now, I'm afraid you all must sleep on the floor, unless you'd rather stay in your ship."
"I told them that as soon as I saw this planet," a mech snapped. "It's filthy here!"
"Sunstreaker," Optimus said coolly. "This is an organic planet. You must get used to the dirt. Besides, if you ever need a bath, you are welcome to take one. We have wash racks set up, but they only hold five at a time."
"Bumblebee?" a shy voice suddenly asked as one of the shorter mechs pushed forward. "Are you alright?"
"Hmm? Oh, First Aid. Yes, I suppose so."
"You can talk?!" the new mechs exclaimed in unison.
"The Allspark fixed my vocalizer before it was destroyed," Bumblebee said irritably then turned and his optics scanned the forest.
"What are you looking for in that organic mess?" another mech asked.
"I'm looking for Sam, Mirage," Bumblebee said sadly. "He's angry at us."
"What's a Sam?" Mirage asked.
"He's a human boy."
"Oh, so he's like a pet?"
"Pet?!" Sam hissed in disbelief. "No way in hell am I a pet."
"No. He's a friend," Ironhide said in a no nonsense tone. "And if I catch wind of any of you treating him as such you shall be in trouble."
"I would like to see a human," yet another mech said excitedly. "When is he coming back?"
"We don't know. We upset him earlier with our comments," Bumblebee said. "You'll eventually get to meet him, Hound, so don't worry."
"Yes, for now why don't we go inside?" Ratchet asked.
Sam watched as they went into the base before coming around the tree and sitting against the trunk to where he could see the building. Some time passed and the door suddenly opened and the mech called First Aid came out. He looked sad. Sam frowned and followed the mech to behind the base, where he sat down and looked up at the moon. After weighing his options, Sam slowly slid out from where he was hiding at the corner of the building.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
The mech started and turned around. "Oh!" he exclaimed and his optics scanned Sam up and down. "You're a human! Are you Bumblebee's human friend?"
"Yes," Sam said. "My name's Sam. You're First Aid, right?"
"Yes. How did you know?" the medic asked.
"I was watching you guys when you got here," the boy admitted then looked back up, determined. "Why are you out here and not in there?"
"I don't know," First Aid lied.
Sam laughed softly and moved closer. "You'll have to do better than that to lie to me."
"Oh. Well," the medic murmured. "I just don't fit in, I suppose. They're talking about the battles they've fought and the mechs they've beaten, and I just can't join in. I'm a pacifist, you see. I don't fight in the battles. I'm just the medic."
Sam hummed softly then gasped as First Aid picked him up none too gently. He wriggled in discomfort as he was lifted up to the mech's gaze. He was poked and prodded by the medic as he looked him over. He reminded the boy of Ratchet the first time he willingly let him fix him.
"First Aid, I, um, don't mean to be rude, but this is a bit awkward for me."
"Oh…Why?"
"Because I don't really know you very well."
"But I'm a medic," First Aid protested with a small frown. "I need to understand your body if I am to fix you when you get hurt."
"I know, but-"
"First Aid, where did you go?" Bumblebee asked as he came around the corner. He paused when he saw the medic and Sam. "Sammy! There you are!"
"Hey Bee. Sorry 'bout earlier," he said as the mech hurried over to take him out of First Aid's hands.
"That's alright, Sam," Bumblebee said as he stroked the boy's back. "First Aid, we have turned from the discussion of battle to other topics. You can come back inside now. I'm going to stay out here with Sam."
Sam frowned. "I take it I'm still not seeing them?"
"Well, you're kinda the topic," Bumblebee said sheepishly. "Optimus is telling them how to act around you."
"Great," Sam muttered.
"I don't understand," First Aid said. "Are there rules?"
"Well, Sam is our friend. We don't want him to be treated like he's inferior to us just because he's organic. Why don't you go inside? Optimus will explain it all."
First Aid left and Sam snuggled against Bumblebee. "I don't like being talked about."
"It'll help you in the long run," the yellow mech said softly. "Sunstreaker and Mirage especially don't like organics. They just think they're, well, gross and beneath them."
Sam frowned. "Wonderful."
"But you're not," Bumblebee said forcefully. "You are fine."
Sam shrugged and settled into Bumblebee's chest. He suddenly felt tired even though he had slept for several hours. That thought brought his dream into his mind and he decided to share it with his guardian.
"I had a strange dream," he stated. "This mech came up out of the river, but he was made of all water and had nice blue optics. He spoke to me."
Bumblebee laughed. "Sometimes I envy the human ability to dream. It sounds like it would be fun. Mechs made of water, how silly."
That comment stung. He had been about to say just how real it had seemed, but decided against it. It was silly, he decided. There was no way a mech could be made of water. It just wasn't possible. With that thought, Sam closed his eyes and slept.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Wake up, Sam," Ratchet's voice said.
Sam grunted as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What?"
"It's time to introduce you to the others. They've just woken up from their recharge."
Sam nodded and Bumblebee stood from where he'd sat all night. The yellow mech stretched and he and Ratchet began walking back to the front of the base in companionable silence. Sam felt butterflies in his stomach as the door opened and eleven pairs of optics landed on him. Jazz walked over with a smile on his face.
"Everybot, this is Sam."
There was silence broken by a shy voice. "Hello again, Sam," First Aid said, waving.
"Hey, Aid."
"First Aid," Prowl corrected.
"I'm going to call him Aid," Sam said, crossing his arms stubbornly.
"But that isn't his designation!"
"Prowl," Optimus said. "Sam's full name is 'Samuel James Witwicky'. In his culture, humans call each other by their first names, and often shorten those names or come up with nicknames for each other."
"Is it because their language is so slow?" Beachcomber asked.
"Possibly. It just seems to be something they do, however," Ratchet replied.
"It's ridiculous," Prowl snorted.
"You're ridiculous," Sam replied, glaring at the mech.
Several mechs laughed at that, but one glare from Prowl shut them all up. "You are rude," he said.
"You are bossy."
Prowl's optics flared. "You need to learn respect."
"You need to learn when to shut your mouth," Sam replied, arching an eyebrow.
"Enough," Optimus commanded calmly. "Prowl, stop commanding Sam about. He's not one of your soldiers."
"But he's rude!"
"Oh, and you're not?" Sam asked with a sneer. "Just because you have power does not mean you can just go and say what you're thinking."
"Here here!" Sunstreaker said happily.
"Sunstreaker!" Prowl snapped then looked back at Sam. "I can already tell that I'm not going to like humans much."
"Aw, boo hoo, my little heart's broken," Sam said dramatically, receiving more laughs from Sunstreaker and the mech beside him.
"Oh, you're really showing the human who's boss Prowl, right Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker asked, nudging the mech beside him.
"Without a doubt!" Sideswipe laughed.
"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, stop it this instance!" Prowl growled, his optics slowly turning purple.
"Wow you're easy to get to," Sam said with a soft chuckle.
"Samuel that is enough!" Optimus snapped and Sam started in surprise.
Optimus had never, ever yelled at him before. Scolded him, yes. Lectured him, yes. But not yelling. Optimus didn't yell. Especially not at him. Bumblebee gave a trill of anger and started speaking to Optimus in Cybertronian, but Sam didn't want to listen. His heart was heavy and it hurt. His eyes burned, but for the first time in a while, the boy pushed away his emotions like he'd done before when he'd still lived with his abusive parents. Ron might have physically abused him, but Judy had emotionally and verbally abused him. She had never listened, never cared, so he had withdrawn into himself and taught himself not to feel. When she spoke to him, which wasn't often, it was always yelling. Sam hated yelling. So without any conscious thought, he lowered his head, hid his face with his hair, and blocked the emotional pain running through his chest.
Bumblebee must have sensed something wrong because he was immediately raised up to optic level. "Sam? Sweetling, are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he said in a blank tone.
Bumblebee gave a shriek of disbelief. "Optimus, look what you did!"
"Sam, I didn't mean to yell at you," the leader of the Autobots said soothingly. "But you can't just talk to Prowl like that. He's not used to you and your kind's way of interacting. He doesn't understand."
"Yeah? He's not the only one," Sam said tonelessly. He heard a sharp intake of air from the Prime.
"Sam, you don't mean that," Bumblebee said softly.
Sam didn't reply for a moment. "I'm tired," he finally said, still looking down at his lap. "I want to go to bed."
He could feel thirteen pairs of optics on him and he loathed it. He knew the new ones were judging him nine ways to Sunday, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. If they didn't know by now, Ratchet or Optimus would soon tell them that he was emotionally unstable. That he had been abused and scarred by his own parents, and Sam had a feeling that they wouldn't understand like Optimus and his team had.
Bumblebee carried him through the mechs over to his berth, setting the boy down gently. His holo-form appeared and embraced him, trying to get him to relax. It didn't work. He felt angry and hateful and upset, but he showed none of it. As he wrapped the warm blanket over his body and hid his face in it, he felt it. After all this time, he was going to be broken again, and this time, he feared nobody would come to his rescue.
