Here is what was chapter three, but is now chapter four. Enjoy!
Original comments: Here's the third chapter. I did use the orange ceiling as a reference to the G1 series as in that series Teletraan-One was all orange. Anywho, peoples, this is where the freaky stuff starts to happen to Sam. I know that what's happened to Sam so far is weird, but it gets weirder. I swear by the Allspark that the next chapter will explain a whole lot.
As usual, please Read and Review. I'm really eager to see what you think of what's happening to Sam. If you have any suggestions on what else could happen, I'm open.
A soft groan passed his lips as he was reluctantly pulled back to consciousness. There was a dull ache that radiated throughout his entire body, bringing him fully back to himself. He was laying on something that he thought felt like metal, but it was unlike any metal he'd ever felt before, nice and soft, and it molded to his body. The fact that he hadn't felt it before was actually saying something considering he'd been on a fully metal planet for three weeks. Over the past few weeks, he had found that, although the Autobots had always said Cybertron was completely made of metal, it hadn't really registered that there were many different kinds of metal. It had been quite an informative experience.
Sam finally opened his eyes and found himself blearily staring up at a dull, orange ceiling. After slowly, painstakingly sitting up, he glanced around to find himself in a laboratory of sorts. Or at least that's what he thought it was. There were all sorts of tools, like the ones that he'd seen Ratchet using on the Autobots back on Earth. Once or twice, the medic had asked if he could use a few of them on Sam, but the boy had always refused. He was afraid of what some of those objects looked like, let alone what they would do, no matter that he knew Ratchet would never, ever hurt him.
The boy blinked in confusion as a thought occurred to him; How did I get here? He remembered strolling through the alley before hearing something…Sam gasped as the memories flooded back. They were quickly followed by questions. Who was that mech? Was he an Autobot or a Decepticon? Where exactly was he and what did the mech plan to do with him? Did the mech have friends? The teenager found himself trembling in trepidation at the next question that popped into his mind: What did they do to me while I was unconscious?
Sam started when the door to the room slid open. A red mech came in, looking up from his datapad. He started toward the human with a smile on his faceplates, but he stopped when he noticed the organic moving away from him, a frightened look in his eyes. The organic had his knees up to his chest, covering himself as he scooted away from the Cybertronian. The mech's expression softened as he opened his mouth and started to speak.
"Do not be afraid, little one. I will not harm you."
Sam froze and stared at the red mech, confusion working its way past the fear. He looked the mech up and down, a bemused expression appearing on the Cybertronian's face as he did so.
"Is something the matter?" he asked.
"Yeah, how do you speak my language?" Sam replied after a moment's hesitation.
The mech's head tilted as his optics showed confusion. After a few moments, he shook his head.
"I must apologize, but I do not understand your way of speaking. Might I ask if you can understand me, and, if so, could you perhaps speak in this tongue?"
Sam gawked at the mech, shocked beyond belief. How was it possible that he could understand what the mech was saying when the mech couldn't understand him? Unless…Was it possible that whatever that bright flash of light was, it had also planted Cybertronian in his brain? The mech was still staring at him expectantly, so the boy took a deep breath before concentrating on how he spoke, making sure it was Cybertronian.
"Are…are you Autobot or Decepticon?" the teenager asked; it felt so strange to form the alien words with human lips.
Delight appeared on the red mech's faceplates. "Oh, thank Primus you speak our language! I am so very eager to learn about you. As to your inquiry, I am Autobot." To prove it, he moved so that his right shoulder flashed in the bright overhead lights. The Autobot insignia stood out clearly, and Sam sighed in relief.
"Ah, and your name?" he asked as he relaxed; Autobots were less likely to hurt him.
"My…name?" the mech asked. "You reverted back to that first language on the last word. Would you please translate it?"
"Oh, um, your…designation! That's the word. What's your designation?"
"Oh," the mech chuckled. "My designation is Perceptor. Your designation?"
"Oh, Sam."
"What strange speech does your designation come from?" Perceptor asked, interest clearly piqued.
"English," Sam replied with a nervous smile.
"E-English?" Perceptor asked then shook his head. "No, I don't want you to strain yourself…Sam. Hm, would you mind if I give you a designation from the Cybertronian tongue?"
Sam blinked, "Um, sure. I-I guess I don't mind."
"Hm…How about I call you Silverstreak, for the strip of silver metal on your back?" Perceptor asked brightly.
"Well sure, sounds…What?!" Sam gasped, beginning to panic. "I-I don't have metal on my back!"
Perceptor looked alarmed, "Now, Sam, please calm down! I might not know much about your species, but your vitals are still unstable."
Sam completely ignored the Autobot as he frantically twisted around to run his hand along his back. He felt nothing out of the ordinary until he reached his spine. His entire body went rigid as he realized it was true; a thin strip of metal went the length of his spine. A large hand picked him up, but he struggled in it.
His emotions went haywire. Fear rushed through him as everything from the past few weeks filled his mind and things that he hadn't thought to be afraid of now terrified him beyond anything he'd ever experienced. How he had gotten to Cybertron, being stark naked and completely alone for three weeks, the strange liquid that he'd been drinking. All of the things that he had been strangely comfortable with now made his brain hurt with the terror of it all. The boy started to scream, his body fritzing along with his mind as he began to beat against the hand that held him with closed fists.
"Sam, Sam, whatever is the matter?" Perceptor demanded, his voice rather frightened and holding worry.
The mech hadn't realized what mentioning the metallic strip on the organic's back would do to him. The metal had melted so seamlessly into the brown flesh that Perceptor had thought it was a natural part of the boy's anatomy. Apparently, if the struggling and screaming of the poor creature was any indication, he had been very wrong. Sam's vital signs were going into overdrive. If he didn't calm down, and fast, Perceptor was positive that something bad would happen to the little human.
The red Autobot set the flailing boy as carefully as he could on the berth, trying to figure out how to calm him down. He had to snatch Sam up again as the organic being scrambled to his feet to try to bolt off the berth, a fall which would have probably injured him greatly. Given no other choice, Perceptor mentally apologized to the boy before using one finger to knock him in the head with a calculated amount of force, quickly and effectively knocking the boy unconscious. Sam's vitals immediately began to calm down, and he output a breath as he gently laid the boy down before covering him in a strip of a very soft metal to keep the boy's temperature at the proper level. The mech quietly left the medbay so that the boy could rest peacefully. He hoped he could keep the creature calm when it woke, but for now, he needed a drink to calm himself down. Luckily, Hot Rod could make a mean rust cube.