Glad everyone's enjoying this - will be on a minor hiatus as I'm off to Ayacon next week (and have about a month of cosplay work do do in a week), so the next chapter isn't likely to show up until the end of the month, so savour slowly.

Disclaimer: I do not, never have, and never will own Transformers.


Decision

He didn't care if it was ironically appropriate - if the Autobots were going to meet him regularly, they really had to find a better place to meet than a graveyard.

The drive was long, even with the roads empty, which gave Sam some time to collect himself. The tears had dried, the red puffy cheeks faded, and the memories forced down into the recesses of his mind that stored his encounter with Barricade, being pinned on the roof by Megatron, and Prime's death. It was getting pretty crowded down there.

He could see Optimus in the distance, watching the Camaro, and Sam pressed on the brakes, a silent request to Bumblebee to stop. The Autobot had been mercifully silent the entire trip, not even attempting to get him to talk even though it was clear he wanted to. But right now, this was between him and Optimus, Bumblebee had to stay out of it, just for now.

"Sorry, Bee," he whispered. "Can you give us some privacy? I need to talk to him alone."

The car gave a reluctant whining sound, but the door opened anyway. Sam smiled and gave the dashboard a soft pat.

"Thanks, Bee."


Optimus was uncertain if Sam had been around them long enough to recognise nervousness. When Bumblebee had commed him, his spark had been filled with dread. A Sam who was angry, or frustrated, he could deal with – he had before. A Sam that was a sobbing hollow wreck was new, and something he had hoped never to see.

As the boy walked towards him, he stilled himself, staring at the boy's eyes.

Hurt, defeated, and oddly sympathetic.

…What had the Primes done to elicit such a reaction? Did he even want to know?

"Sam," he greeted. "Are you all right?"

The boy's gaze dropped, focusing on the gravestones nearby, and Optimus's sagged slightly.

"Perhaps a foolish question."

"They showed me something. Something I never wanted to see."

The teens still refused to look him in the eye, and Optimus kneeled down, trying to get his attention.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I know this-"

"They said you didn't know what they were gonna do," Sam interrupted, head shooting back up to catch the Prime's optics. "Did you?"

Optimus shook his head. "No. They said it would be better if I didn't."

A choked laugh was the reply. "Yeah. Better for them."

His gaze hardened, and Sam's eyes looked ready to cry again. "They put me in your body," he began. "Near the beginning of the war, I think. I went where you went, felt what you felt."

Optimus shuttered his optics in understanding. What better way for the Primes to help another Prime understand they were not alone in their fears, that their apparent idols were not as flawless as they had believed…

"They showed me Prowl's death."

The Peterbuilt reacted as if he'd been shot, jerking back and freezing, horror written on his face too long to hide it. Now it was his turn to look away, hands clenching at his sides. Of all the things they could have done, to show him that? Optimus's greatest failure, to force him to feel the pain and anguish of knowing someone you cared for had died a long and arduous death because you wouldn't be there for him?

…The Primes were going to die for this. Again. Slowly. How could they? How dare they?

"Optimus?"

Sam was watching him, now with an intensity he rarely saw in the boy. In a sudden rush of understanding, Optimus realised Sam wasn't here to yell or scream or fight about his fate. He was here because he wanted to know if Optimus was all right. Over something that had happened when his race had barely achieved sentience. It was an oddly warm thought.

The Prime forced himself to relax, and stood back up, gazing into the distance, and reassuring the boy with his previous thoughts.

"That was a lifetime ago."

Sam swallowed. "Does it still…hurt…like this?"

The boy had a hand digging into his shirt in the general area of his heart. Optimus could understand the sentiment.

"It fades with time," Optimus replied. "But no, it never truly leaves."

He heard the boy sigh, and a slight rustle warned him Sam was sitting down, fingering the bag slung over a shoulder. A quick scan made the contents known, and the mech crouched down again.

"Sam-"

"Relax, I'm not asking you to take it."

Optimus blinked. That was unexpected.

Sam gave a heavier sigh. "Honestly, I hate every last one of those bastards, and I'd quite happily toss this over my shoulder and be done with it, but they're right. I can't…I can't ignore this and then live with myself if something happens I should have stopped."

At first he thought the boy was referring to Optimus's own death, but there was something detached in his voice that made him second guess.

"Did they show you something else? Consequences?"

A choked laugh escaped. "You could say that. They showed me Bumblebee, broken and beaten like Prowl, only I saw him die, like you. Just lying there, fading away."

Optimus clenched his hands again, beginning to agree with Sam's earlier description of the Primes. Showing Sam Optimus's more painful memories, then warping them to fit their purpose? Arrogance apparently had no limit, especially when tinged with desperation.

Sam held the Matrix up. "I just…I guess I thought you might want to talk to them. I don't know why."

That was a lie, and they both knew it. Sam wanted Prime to yell and threaten them, because he was too small to be anything other than amusing. And certainly Optimus was considering it – they certainly deserved it.

But…no. It would only hinder the situation. Right now Sam and the Primes had to work out their difficulties alone. Later, when Sam was more comfortable he could make his feelings known. There was already too much tension without him adding to the equation.

The answer must have been plain on his face, because Sam was putting the Matrix back and standing up, looking a little disappointed.

"So," Optimus began. "What are you going to do?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair before heading back towards where he knew Bumblebee would be waiting. "I'll talk to them in the morning. I'll find out what a 'human Prime' actually has in its job description, spend the afternoon freaking out, and then inevitably sleep through whatever they have me do in the night."

"Good luck."

Sam didn't look back.


By the time Bumblebee got him back to his dorm, the sun was coming up. The Camaro was clearly unhappy that Sam and Optimus hadn't told him what was going on, but he wasn't willing to pry.

Leo was still MIA, so Sam pulled out the Matrix, holding it in his hands as he sat cross-legged on his bed. The buzzing noise danced around his head, taunting him to come closer.

With a heavy sigh and a heavenward eye roll, he tightened his grip and close his eyes…opening them to a crowd of metal giants.


Afternoon…

Leo's face loomed into view, grinning like a devil and offering up a box.

"Pizza."

"Please."

Sam's hand dug into the box, dropping the papers in his hands to savour nothing but meat, cheese and bread.

"Oh, god," he sighed in bliss. "God I needed that."

Leo had, admittedly, been a little curious about what had happened the night he'd been away. When he'd come back to the room, Sam had been sitting on his bed, looking as if he was meditating. An hour later, his eyes had snapped open, and he'd headed for the shower muttering not so complimentary things about a certain alien race.

In the afternoon, he'd hunted down his roommate in the quad, surrounded by course applications, notepads and some very warped timetables.

Leo couldn't take it. He had to know.

"What exactly are you trying to do?"

Mouth still full of pizza, Sam merely handed him over a list of different classes the university offered. Seeing that Leo still didn't get it, he forced the pizza down and wiped his mouth.

"The old guys in the Matrix want to make sure I get the 'most' out of my education," he explained. "So they want me to try and co-study those classes on top of my current ones while they pound in whatever Cybertronian mumbo jumbo they think I should know."

Leo raised his eyebrows. The list had classes on things ranging from politics to psychology to law. And Sam wasn't done yet.

"And on top of that," he muttered, handing him over a few pamphlets. "They're very eager for me to be looking at extra curricular activities. Very specific extra curricular activities."

"Self defence…chess team…track team?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess they figure I'll never be strong enough to take on a Decepticon so might as well work on what's kept me alive so far."

Leo shook his head and sat down beside him. "I do not envy you, man," he replied. "With a list like this you're gonna have a busy few years."

Sam winced and picked up another slice of pizza. "Actually…that's my list for this year."

Leo dropped the papers.

"Dude! How many hours do they think there are in a day? The university isn't going to let you take all this on! Its too late to sign up for more courses anyway!"

"I know!" Sam moaned, gesturing to sheets in front of him. "Apparently, in order to 'avoid suspicion,' I'm to sign up to all of these online with pseudonyms. That way nobody bats an eye cause they don't know."

His roommate shook his had in disbelief. "Never mind anyone finding out, how are you even planning to pass all of these? Nobody could study and pass all that at the same time."

At that, Sam gave a nervous grin.

"Actually…I don't think that's going to be much of a problem. Hey…can I ask you something?"

Leo shrugged. "What?"

"I'm not growing antennae or anything on the back of my head am I?"

That morning… Sam didn't bother with any yells or complaints, and instead slumped down to the ground, fingers on his temples. He'd rather hoped the next time he'd come here he'd have Optimus backing him up, but clearly the other Prime was trying to stay out of it. Sam couldn't help but wonder if they'd ordered him to.

"You are all monumental jackasses and deserve to be dead. You know that right?"

Some winced, and when the foremost Prime turned and nodded his head, the others backed off, disappearing into the light. The first Prime kneeled in front of Sam, still not quite eye level, and nodded.

"We understand, but it was necessary. It would have taken too long for you to come to this conclusion on your own."

Sam glared at him. "Fine. I'll do what you want, but the next time you're gonna use Optimus or Bumblebee for your sick little lessons, the Matrix is gonna get up close and personal with a microwave. Gottit?"

The Prime smiled, apparently having stopped listening after 'want.'

"Good. Now we need to prepare you."

Sam sighed.

"Look, what exactly is it you expect me to do? I've spoken on the Autobot's behalf a couple of times, and then almost went crazy with the Allspark information. That's not exactly 'Prime' material."

"As you've seen, was Optimus perfect the moment he was sparked?" the Prime replied. "As you are so fond of saying, you are a 'normal kid'. You have a long way to go to realise your true potential."

"Okay, fine," Sam snapped, getting back to his feet and glaring up. "What is it you need to 'teach' me?"

The Prime in question suddenly vanished, causing Sam to blink…only to find a human scale version of the mech standing in front of him.

"Wah!"

He stumbled back, tripping over his feet – only to have the mech's arm dart out and grab him, keeping him stable.

"Easy," the Prime soothed. "It is all to do with the mind here, I have merely changed my form so that it is easier to communicate."

"Gee, thanks," Sam muttered.

"As for teaching, we will help educate you on the matters of Cybertron," the Prime continued, choosing to ignore him. "The more you know about the layers of this war, and the necessities of our people, the more you can help. While on the outside, you will study as many subjects that could be necessary to accommodate humanity's needs."

Sam felt a small tickling sensation in the back of his mind, and tensed up when it started to make sense.

"Wait, wait, wait," he started. "There's no way I can pass all those. I won't remember half of it!"

The Prime nodded. We will also alter your mind, to help you on the outside and here."

Sam tensed. "Define 'alter.'"

"The original attempt of merely transferring information didn't work," the Prime explained. "You had the information, but were unable to access it. And when you could, it was indecipherable and uncontrollable. So we will have to teach you from scratch, but some…adjustments we can implement will make learning easier."

"Again, define adjustments," Sam interrupted. "I'm not going to wake up and find myself Cybertronian am I."

"Given how often you throw yourself in danger, the idea was considered-"

"Oh, no way!"

"-But vetoed on the basis that it would make your upbringing to this point redundant," the Prime finished. "Instead we will merely be coaxing parts of your mind to make the most of their potential. The human mind is a surprisingly effective processor for being composed of organic matter."

Sam still looked nervous. "Coaxing as in?…"

The Prime smiled. "As in being able to read and commit to memory a nine hundred and three page book in thirty two point eight seconds."

Oh. Oh…

"That…could be useful," Sam admitted. "Ultra photographic memory's good. Guess I don't mind that, just so long as that's all you're doing."

The mech's optics flickered, a sign Sam had noticed through the Autobots that usually meant they were hesitating in what they said.

"…That IS all you're doing, right?"

"Your roommate has returned, I think it's best we continue this tonight."

"What have you done?"

"Farewell Samuel Prime."

"Hey!"


Sam glared at the ground as he remembered the encounter. "Stupid giant Bionicle wannabe's" he muttered, picking up some of the papers again and looking around for his pencil. He'd spent the entire morning panicking over what they'd done. He'd checked everywhere he could, and had gotten into the habit of scratching the back of his head in fear of something growing, but everything was fine. All he had was a headache. Whatever they'd done was apparently not physical.

Oh, there was his pencil. Leo must have kicked it away. It was out of arm's reach.

He leaned over, intent on rolling it back with his fingertips, when the pencil quivered on its own. Sam barely had time to blink, before his hand flexed…and the pencil flew into his hand. Leo's squeak was enough to make Sam drop it, and the two could only stare at the now inanimate object on the ground.

"Sam," Leo said. "Do that again."

To be continued…