Angelic- I'm still here! If anyone's happy to see me… .-.
Dedication: Everybody. Special mention to Nixie Dearing (wtfsixreviews), and smounged1989 who kept prodding me about writing and helping me straighten out my thoughts… and everyone who messaged me. Thank you to those who gave me corrections- I appreciate them and I'll have to fix those soon. Thank you for staying me thus far, and new readers are welcome!
Disclaimer- I don't own Transformers or HGTV. I do own an imaginary soap opera show… and the amazing thing is in g1 canon, the Autobots watched one! It was on the Prime Target episode in g1.
Note: slash later… And there were overwhelming amounts of demands for Iron/Will, which I may incorporate in here… in small bits. I'm not going to make them jump each other and make love like rabbits- I don't work that way. Do expect to see hints, though. We've still got a long way to go before this story will be finished. Also, I absolutely do not like Jazz x Prowl (too overdone, and boring) and won't be writing any smut for them. The only reason the pairing is in this story is because my friend liked it and I'd hoped she would read this, but she hasn't.
Note 2: Psst… If you like BeeSam, please head over to smounged1989's fic, "Three way split." It's a lengthy fic that I beta for, and it has IronWill as well as JazzMikaela. Give it a try!
His Gaze Denotes Love- Chapter Five: January part ONE
"Speech"
'Thought'
"Song lyrics"
:Bond link Speech:
"Cybertronian/Comm link Speech"
In the Storage Room below the NEST base, Diego Garcia, on January 1st, 2010, 12:30 AM-
Normal POV
"Sam! Wake up! Sam!" Jazz called out to the other, servo reaching out for the young man who was sprawled on the floor. He found that even that small action made him feel even more exhausted than he already was… Since he had just been brought back online; his spark was still synchronizing with his systems, and the lack of sufficient energon in his fuel tank and his wiring gave him little energy to produce and circulate through his systems. He groaned loudly, and wondered where he was… and how long he had been gone.
Suddenly, he heard thunderous noises coming from somewhere above them, and he forced himself upright, with a servo dipping into a sub-space pocket, pulling out a Cybertronian weapon that was somewhat similar to the human tazer weapon. It was meant to deliver a paralyzing blow via a powerful electrical shock to the neural relays. The bot or con's CPU could try to send messages through the neural relays to make their body move, but the electric waves would temporarily block those messages for anywhere as long as a few breems to a cycle. The weapon itself did not do any lasting damage, but it was not intended to, as it was merely a tool for immobilization. The one who wielded it could flee, kill, or kidnap the one who it affected. Right now, Jazz was too weak to fight back… if the enemy threatened them, he could stop them temporarily.
He attempted to try and see if he could recognize the signals, but his tracking component of his communications system didn't seem to want to cooperate. 'Fraggit… We're in some deep slag right now…' Jazz bit down on his bottom lip, leaving a small dent in the less dense metal. 'I gotta protect Sam.'
The crashing noises got closer, and he could hear voices… deep ones that sounded familiar… ones that he shouldn't fear.
The door crashed open, and the first mech that spilled into the room was one that made Jazz drop his weapon with a sigh of relief. "Optimus!" His servo reached up and gave the other a wave. He wanted to say something hip and trendy, something that he would say normally… but Sam was hurt. "He's hurt."
"Jazz…" Optimus Prime smiled at the other with an expression that denoted both joyful surprise and some numbness (presumably from the shock). "You're actually back… welcome back, my friend." As the other mechs entered, there was a collective gasp of surprise.
"Jazz… you're online!" Sideswipe cried out happily and skated over to his friend on his lowered wheels, and lightly embraced him. Jazz had always been one of his good friends… not only did he have excellent taste in music, but also once in a while he had indulged Sideswipe and Sunstreaker by helping them prank others. Sideswipe looked up to him.
The silvery mech returned the embrace, giving a small squeeze to the other before the red mech drew away. "It's been a while, Sides. You look like you've adjusted to Earth."
"Yes I have, thanks buddy. I can't believe the kid managed to do it…" Sideswipe murmured, and then slapped himself on the forehead. "Oh frag! Sam! Ratchet!" He turned around to look for the medic, but the medic was already at Sam's side. Bumblebee was also there, whining plaintively as Ratchet shoved him away while he worked on the young man. Optimus was there too, trying to assist him, but was turned away also.
It wasn't until Jazz heard a gasp of disbelief that he realized that there was someone else in the room… and when he glanced upward, he saw the form of a blessedly familiar mech… Blue optics widened in shock, and door wings were frozen in an upright position as he gripped the door frame with trembling fingers. "…Jazz?"
"Prowl… You're here!" Jazz felt a grin split his face at seeing his bondmate alive and well. He jumped off the table in excitement, but wasn't quite used to being online yet- his systems were still synchronizing- so when he landed on the floor, his knee joints buckled and he pitched forward onto the floor. He instinctively brought his servos out to help break the landing, but he was saved from having to do so when Prowl managed to grab him under his armpits and stopped him from falling flat on his facial plates. Jazz sighed in relief upon being caught, and was about to thank Prowl when he was pulled into a black and white chassis. He was delighted to be so close to that thrumming spark once again (had it really been well over a few vorns since he'd seen him last?), but the other was shaking…
"Prowler? Are you okay?" Jazz asked, concern lacing his tone. Despite the fact that he wore a visor, anyone could tell he was worried by the tone he was using in his voice. His arms wound around his bondmate and he nuzzled a headlight, hoping to make him feel better.
"I'm just glad to see you came back to me…" Prowl murmured thickly, trying to hold back the tide of emotions within his body. His head was resting on Jazz's shoulder, and his door wings were drooping in exhaustion. Clearly, his depression had caught up with him and was being released in that blissful moment, knowing his love was really back.
And it was all thanks to Sam. The boy was now being whisked off to the medical bay for further examination, and though he was in a stable condition, Ratchet didn't want to take any chances. Sam had kept his promise to Prowl, and now they were both indebted to him greatly.
"It's good ta be back, especially here in your arms." Jazz smiled even though he knew Prowl couldn't see it (his face was buried in Prowl's chest) and tenderly stroked the Datsun's spinal plating. Prowl shivered, and Jazz grinned on the inside, knowing he had brushed a soft spot.
"Don't start something you can't finish right now," Prowl whispered into Jazz's audio receptor, voice strained slightly. Oh, how he'd love to have a private moment with his bondmate right then! Unfortunately, they had a crowd of departing mechs and they knew they couldn't stay there. The other Autobots needed to know about Sam's condition and Jazz's rebirth. In that statement, there was already a disaster waiting to happen; and it only hit every Autobot at once when they thought about it later… But it affected Bumblebee and Optimus the most in that they were the closest Cybertronians to Sam.
What if the Decepticons found out Sam brought back Jazz?
That question was tormenting Optimus as he waited outside the medical bay for Ratchet's update on Sam. He paced restlessly back and forth, trying to find something to occupy his time besides brooding, but it proved futile. It was in his nature to worry about the safety of all, and he couldn't help dwelling on the thoughts he knew he would have to announce to others later. The matter of the fact was that Sam had managed to bring another Cybertronian back to life without the aid of another being or tool- he had been able to cross the bridges between life and death, this dimension and the Matrix and not lose himself in it- and brought Jazz back from deactivation. This was something not achieved by any human or Cybertronian, and the knowledge of that fact was dangerous. Oh, it wasn't dangerous just physically (the blood was hard to ignore, but they didn't know if that had come from his impact with the wall or if it was from the act of resurrection itself), but there was the sinking feeling of knowing the Decepticons could very well take advantage of that and force Sam to reactivate some of Megatron's dead soldiers. Who knew what it would do to him mentally?
Optimus just couldn't speak aloud or into a comm link with the other Autobots about his worry… He was the leader, and he had to show some emotional restraint. The extent of his distress that was depicted openly was his pacing, and perhaps the occasional frown, but all of the rest was hidden behind his blue optics and his chest plates. There was a great ache in his spark, as a small bit of horror had pierced him directly when he had first cast his optics on the motionless boy. Sure, he had been quite happy to see Jazz back once more (he had never forgiven himself for not making it in time to distract Megatron), but seeing Sam lying there like a broken flesh doll was like getting a kick to the codpiece for no slagging reason; it was something he hadn't wanted to happen. His spark hurt from the love and worry he kept silent.
While Optimus paced back and forth outside the med bay doors, Bumblebee was playing soft music as he anxiously waited for news on his charge's status. The bright yellow and black Autobot was worried sick to his tanks about Sam (Bumblebee privately admitted to Mikaela that he could never stand to see the sight of human blood, especially Sam's blood), but managed to keep somewhat calm. Mikaela was sitting on his knee; patting him reassuringly, though anyone could tell she was worried by the way she was biting her lower lip until it was a reddish plum hue. Seated next to the bot were Judy and Ron, both of which looked uneasy, but somewhat hopeful.
Miles and Leo weren't there, but they truly wanted to be. Unfortunately, they were coerced into helping Simmons, Epps, and other soldiers clean up the mess they had made at the party. Among them were Clarissa and Roderich Lancaster, who had given Judy and Ron their prayers before setting off with James Banes to assist them. Will had attempted to help them, but in his slightly inebriated state, he was not helpful. Ironhide quickly set him down in the med bay, trusting Bumblebee to keep an optic on the major for him until he got back from grunt work (along with Sideswipe, Mudflap, Skids, Arcee, and Jolt).
Finally, some hours into the early morning later, Ratchet came out of his med bay. Judy and Ron immediately ran forward to meet the mech with Judy demanding to know how Sam was, and Ron looking like he wanted to yell but didn't, knowing that Ratchet didn't need any extra stress.
"Well, Ratchet? How is he?" Bumblebee asked while his door wings rose upward slightly, as he was hoping for good news. Mikaela had almost fallen asleep on his leg, but now her full attention was back and centered on the medic.
…Will hiccupped as he waited, though he didn't look all there. He looked like he was fighting to stay awake.
Ratchet rubbed the bridge of his nasal plates (a human gesture he'd picked up from interacting with them so often) and let out a puff of air out of his vents. "He will be alright. He has some severe swelling from where he collided with the wall, but thankfully the bleeding was directed outward instead of inward. He'll have moderate to severe pain from that for the next few days, or until the swelling goes down and the wound heals. He took the brunt of the force in his back (which is why his head wound isn't worse) and he's very lucky he didn't shatter his spine… There shouldn't be too much lasting damage unless something didn't register in my scans. I estimate that he might have dizzy spells anywhere from a week to two weeks, and may need assistance in walking. Other than that, he will recover. Primus must be watching over that boy." He shook his head, briefly glanced upward reverently, and then looked back into the relieved faces of Judy, Ron, and Mikaela.
"You said he'll have pain. Is there something you can give him for that?" Judy asked quietly. She was happy to know that Sam would ultimately be alright, but her motherly instincts told her she still had to make sure her baby wouldn't suffer any unnecessary pain. She clasped Ron's hand even harder, and could feel its warmth reassure her as he gave her a small smile.
She felt some of her muscles relax from where she had been standing in a stiff position, and then she started to feel better. Ron always knew how to soothe her… And she loved him for it.
"Of course there is! However, I doubt he would prefer having an intravenous drip stuck into his arm for when he is permitted to leave, so one of the on-base human medics has prescribed some painkillers for him. They should be satisfactory for his needs. Until I deem him fit to leave, I have some painkillers that I will inject into his arm at safe intervals." Ratchet assured them, and after a few minutes of talking, the humans in the audience were allowed to visit Sam… except for Will, who'd fallen asleep, and the two Autobots, who looked less than happy at having to wait.
Very quietly, and it was emphasized quietly, Judy, Ron, and Mikaela were allowed to follow Ratchet to a section of the med bay designed especially to treat human patients. Sam was curled up on a clean bed with soft white sheets, which made the boy's pink flesh and dark hair stand out starkly against the bedding. Immediately, Judy was at her son's side, and one of her hands slid out to tenderly grasp one of Sam's hands. Ron stood behind her, and had one arm around his wife as he watched Sam's chest rise and fall evenly. Despite the heavily bandaged bump on the back of Sam's head, and the colorful bruises spread out across Sam's back, he did not look troubled. His expression was a peaceful one; with his brows relaxed, mouth slackened into a faint smile, and a rose-pink rose color painted his cheeks with a hue that looked healthier than alabaster-colored cheeks (which he had earlier).
Ratchet watched over Sam and his loved ones carefully, but he couldn't help but notice that Mikaela was not directly at Sam's bedside, like he thought she would be. He was standing about twenty feet away from the Witwickys, letting them have some time with Sam, but still Mikaela remained standing next to his stabilizing servo. He looked down at her quizzically. "I am sorry to intrude, but I am curious. Why aren't you over with Sam?"
Mikaela glanced up at him, startled at first, but then she answered him about a minute later. "I don't want to interrupt Judy and Ron. They're a family first and foremost, and I don't want to cut in on that." She said that all in a solemn tone.
"Surely Sam considers you part of his family, with your status?" Ratchet was still a bit confused. As Sam's mate or "girlfriend," Mikaela would have the privilege of being considered a member of the family, but either Mikaela was being too respectful or something had happened to jeopardize that... And he intended to know what was going on.
"Sam and I broke up. We are no longer dating, Ratchet. We split up at the beginning of last month… We're just friends now." Mikaela sighed deeply, and looked back at the prone boy in the bed forlornly. Ratchet was surveying her with keen optics, and then gently asked,
"But you do not wish it was that way?"
Mikaela shook her head, and her ebony locks swayed slightly. "We grew apart Ratchet. He no longer sees me as his girlfriend, but more like a sister or just a close friend… no matter how much I care for him, his feelings for me have faded." Her icy blue eyes continued to watch that chest rise and fall, and she was silent for a minute before continuing. "…Despite the fact that my feelings for him have not gone away, I am happy that we can still remain good friends. It will take time for me to get over him, and it is hard knowing he already has, but…" She glanced back up at Ratchet, who understood her all too well.
"You want to see him happy," he murmured gently.
Mikaela nodded. "Of course I do. Anyone would want that for the people they care about. I just hope he remembers that I still care, even when he finds someone else to love."
Ratchet patted her back with one finger as best as he could to calm her. "I'm sure he does, but you could always tell him yourself. He's awake, you know." His scans had already told him that Sam had regained consciousness about five astroseconds ago, and would soon open his eyes. "Go see him."
Mikaela hesitated for a few seconds, looking back and forth between the boy and the medic in front of her before making up her mind. "I'll talk to you later, Ratchet." She murmured, and then she strode over to the boy's bedside, where his smiling parents greeted her.
"Look, he's awake! Oh Sammy, we were so worried! Next time tell us when you're going to do something stupid, or you're grounded for life young man!" Judy poked Sam in the face, to which he sleepily murmured something back. "Yes, you did do a nice thing for Prowl, we know, we saw him when they came up the stairs. That stiff bot looked so happy I almost cried! The love in his eyes- er, optics as they call them- was so beautiful! Just like something straight out of Sunset Engagement!" Judy had a dreamy expression her face as she tenderly rubbed the top of his palm with her thumb. Even in her thoughts, she was ever aware of Sam's injuries and treated him with the utmost gentleness.
Ron put his face in his palms and sighed, while Sam laughed a little and started talking to Mikaela. "Judy, I thought you promised not to watch anymore soap operas."
"I was drunk. I told you, don't ask me to make promises when I'm drunk… besides, Sunset Engagement is a masterpiece!" Judy exclaimed, gesturing wildly with one hand while the other continued to stroke Sam's hand.
"A masterpiece my ass." Ron shot back, trying not to snort at what she'd just said. He gave his son a look of glee at Sam, whose expression clearly mirrored that of his own. They both held the same opinion on the melodramatic television show.
"There you go again, always complaining… I don't complain when you're constantly watching sports and HGTV…"
Ratchet tuned them out as he pondered the interesting bit of news. No, not that Judy apparently watched some strange type of television show, but that Sam and Mikaela were not an item anymore… Apparently, they'd been split up for about a month or so now. The cogs in his head turned (literally and figuratively), and he was sure this bit of news (besides the news that Sam had woken up) would cheer up a certain Prime quite a bit… not that the leader would ever admit it, of course.
It was about time he kicked the family out of the med bay, anyway. Will had been asleep for a while now, and after a quick scan of his vitals, Ratchet confirmed that he was not in any danger. He seemed to be what humans called a "light weight" and the alcohol (coupled with previous exhaustion) had made him sleepy. He'd either have to comm Ironhide or Epps to get someone down here to take him to his quarters… but first, he needed to get rid of the trio surrounding Sam.
Ratchet put on his Faceplates of Doom™ and loomed threateningly over the group of humans below him. "Time's up, Judy. I'm sure Sam needs his pain medication and I know there are others who would like to see him. Please go into the waiting area."
"Oh HELL no Ratchet! He's my baby boy and I'm not leaving!" Judy stamped her foot down on the hard concrete, not happy in the slightest to see that she had to leave Sam so soon… even though in reality, they actually had been with him at least half an hour. There had been stretches of silence before Ratchet's conversation with Mikaela and after, and he knew by the grimace on Sam's face that he was starting to feel some pain from his head injury and his back. If Ratchet's glare didn't get rid of them, Sam himself would probably take charge… or perhaps someone else would.
Sam's groan brought everyone's attention back to him. Eyelids fluttered, and he said quietly, "c'mon -Mom… You know I love you, Dad, and Mikaela, but he has a point. Besides, I thought the sight of needles made you sick."
Judy opened her mouth to vehemently deny what he had just told everyone, but she then went white when she saw the larger-than-necessary needle being brandished all too cheerfully by Ratchet. After a brief minute, she gave up the battle of wills and gave Ratchet a look that illustrated what she'd like to do with him if he hurt her son. It would most likely involve her cherished nail-studded bat that she kept in the closet and smacking a broken down lawn chair… into the medic's shins. "You take good care of my baby, Ratchet. I'll be back soon." She gave Sam a kiss on the cheek, and Ron gave his son a soft clap to the shoulder before he shepherded his shaking wife out the door.
Sam snickered a bit in his head as he watched her leave. He truly loved his parents, and though they tended to be overbearing, he knew they loved him deeply. He couldn't blame them- a lot of things had happened to him after all- but he just found a bit of amusement in his mother's needle phobia. She had absolutely no problems with cutting up animal organs; or even skinning and gutting an animal, but if she so much as even looked at a needle, she felt ill. Though he was starting to feel ill himself… The pain in his back and his head was starting to spread through his body, and he had to resist the urge to groan or make some sort of noise. Not to mention the fact that the needle Ratchet had looked much larger than necessary…
Mikaela patted his shoulder reassuringly, if not a bit awkwardly and gradually got to her feet. "…Sam, get better soon, alright? If you ever need to talk or even someone to complain to, I'll be here for you. Okay?"
Sam turned his head to look at her, feeling his neck make soft crackling noises from the effort. 'Man I'm stiff.' "…Yeah, I know. Thanks 'Kaela. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome. I'll see you soon," she promised, and soon she was gone as well.
There was some silence as Ratchet bustled about his med bay, straightening this or that or putting things in their proper areas. As he prepared the human-sized syringe, Ratchet decided he needed to have a short little discussion with his patient before he could usher in the awaiting Autobots. With his back to Sam, he began, "you know Samuel… You truly have some faithful friends and family."
Sam flinched at that, already guessing what was coming. Just by the way Ratchet said his first name had him feeling like he was going to get the scolding of his lifetime within the next five minutes. "…Yeah, I know. They've all been very good to me."
"We all care about you very much Sam. For such a small organic being as yourself, you've become irreplaceable to all of us, especially to Optimus and Bumblebee. They are willing to give up their lives for you." Ratchet sighed slightly, trying not to show his anger. He knew that stress was the last thing Sam needed now, since it would inhibit his recovery, but it was hard for him not to start yelling… He remembered doing that to the twins (both sets- ugh, the sheer horror of more idiots), and especially to his bondmate, who was seemed to have the unfortunate hobby of getting caught in explosions from accidents in his lab. Yelling hid how distraught he truly was, but at the same time, it was his way of showing that he cared. The mech was sure by now that Sam knew this as well. "…Even Ironhide has admitted to becoming fond of you and a select few others of your species. This is monumental, since that slagger would have rather had nothing to do with humans when we first arrived here on this planet."
"…I know, Ratchet." Sam's voice was quiet, and he looked smaller in that bed than he had before… almost like a child that had gotten nearly buried in a small mountain of snow. Sam had curled up as best as his back would allow within the white sheets, but still he watched the medic, who whirled around to face him. There was an unreadable expression on his face that persisted even after he marched over there and injected him with a dose of morphine. Even as Sam's pain began to fade, his attention on Ratchet did not. This was a good thing, since Ratchet looked like he was about to blow a gasket.
"I don't think you truly understand, Samuel. What you did was both foolish and extremely hazardous to your health! You deliberately disregarded my warnings against excessive use of the power you have, and while it is an astronomical amount that almost broke my scanners, it is not something to be trifled with!" If Ratchet had hair, he probably would have pulled it out by now. He was pacing back and forth, trying to illustrate just how frustrated he was without resorting to his favorite stress-relieving past time (wrench throwing). Several incoherent clicks and screeches of his vocal capacitor made Sam wonder if he was trying not to scream, and after a minute, Ratchet returned to a calmer state. "Look Samuel, I do not expect you to understand, but I ask that you at least try to. You brought Jazz back to life, without the aid of a tool of extraordinary power like the Matrix of Leadership. You did something no Cybertronian could do… and this will turn you into a bigger target than you already are."
Ratchet let out another large puff of heated air out of his vents and spoke once more. "I know you felt responsible for Jazz's death. I felt the same way since I could not repair him beyond fixing his body and making it presentable. Megatron had ripped him apart and his spark was extinguished in mere astroseconds… but you, you brought him back without losing yourself. That should not be possible… you're still here, albeit with injuries, but…" He shook his head and kept his furious glare upon Sam's face. "Don't ever do that again. Not only is it a pain in my aft to scramble around and fix you (especially since you're a human), but you literally scared the spark out of me and everyone else here. We are all very happy to have Jazz back, but you cannot risk yourself like that again. Do you understand now?"
Sam was quiet, as he listened to the whole lecture. He had wanted to protest at first, but as Ratchet continued to talk, his words died away. He could understand where the medic was coming from, and why he was so worried. He didn't doubt that he might get more of the same lecture from others. "Yes, I do. I'm sorry."
"Good. Now that we're on the same level… there are a few Autobots that would like to see you, Sam. Do not think that I'm not still angry with you, though." Ratchet's optics flashed harshly as he turned away from the boy. He had just contacted Optimus and Bumblebee, and sure enough, in a few seconds the two Autobots eagerly stepped inside.
"SAM!" Both of them shouted the Witwicky's name, and he winced at the loud volume. Ratchet immediately brandished his wrench, waving it threateningly close to their facial plates.
"Shut the frag up, you dithering diodes! Don't blow out his ear drums with your noise." He chastised, giving them the 'evil optic' as they both halted and nodded frantically. "If you can't be quiet, I won't have you in my med bay. Hmph." He stalked off to his office, grumbling about getting some high-grade.
Bumblebee was the first to speak. "Sam…" The yellow and black scout looked very uncomfortable from where he was standing by Sam's bed. His door wings were twitching, and he appeared to be restraining himself from scooping up Sam right there. On Sam's other side, Optimus stood, also looking visibly distressed. If the metal nicks in his metal plating weren't enough, the worried frown on his facial plates also made it look like he had aged overnight. Sam's heart started to beat much faster from having the attention of the two most important Cybertronians in his life centered on him.
"Um… hey?" Sam braced himself for another bit of awkwardness and a lecture that was sure to come his way, but all he got was a sigh from Optimus and more reserved silence. "…I get it. The silent treatment. Thanks." He knew he was being a bit of a brat, but he couldn't help it… He couldn't stand the irritating quiet. "You can come closer if you want to…"
Ultimately, after about five more minutes of Sam wanting to rip his hair out from the waiting, Bumblebee caved into the pout on Sam's face. He carefully sat himself down on the concrete floor, offered a finger to Sam, and the boy was only too happy to hug it. After some contented purring, Bumblebee began to speak to Sam in his lovely British accented voice. "We are very worried about you, Sam. You scared us in a way I thought we would not have to deal with again."
The Witwicky looked down at his lap with guilt. "…I'm sorry. I know I worried everyone and it's my fault I'm in this condition, but I had to do it. Jazz deserved to have his life back, and I'm not sorry for what I did." His determined glare showed just how stubborn he was, but sometimes he forgot that the Autobots were also very stubborn… which is about to be presented for your viewing entertainment.
"Samuel, we are very glad to have Jazz back, but you could have taken the liberty to properly inform someone of what you were planning to do. That was reckless of you, to say the least… Besides… how did you do that?" Optimus sounded baffled. "We heard that you used the energy from the AllSpark shard, but… how could you have rescued an extinguished spark from the Matrix?"
Sam's vision was now occupied by the two mechs, as well as Ratchet, who had stuck his head out of his office door at the western end of the med bay in order to hear it as well. 'I might as well tell them now… since I did not before.' He took a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke to his audience. "You're totally gonna flip over this, but it was because of Primus-" there was a collective gasp at that name, and he glared until they stopped making distracting noises- "that I was able to learn how to do that… he told me to look for the information I learned from touching the shard way back at the beginning of the semester. He has been speaking to me in my dreams for about a month now. Every time he does, he usually informs me of changes that I've been going through… though I have to say, you've got a deity with a strange sense of humor."
Optimus Prime, Ratchet and Bumblebee all shared a look- one that said they weren't quite sure what to think- but turned to Sam with apprehension, curiosity, and pure disbelief. "Sam," Optimus courteously started, "…are you sure this was the voice of Primus that was reaching your ears?"
If Judy were there, she'd twitch at the twisted expression on Sam's face. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed, and nostrils slightly flared. If he managed to get wrinkles (due to his altered biological makeup), he'd have the deepest kind if he managed to keep that up… and it could have someone screaming to stick him with a little bit of Botox and dermal filler. It was heinous, and immediately Optimus as well as Bumblebee felt abashed. Ratchet was immune to such facial expressions.
"I do know what I'm talking about, you guys. I wouldn't make this kind of crap up." Sam looked offended, hurt, as well as peeved at the same time. He crossed his arms. "Say what you want, but I'm telling the truth. In case you've forgotten, I had the original Transformers talk to me too, so it can't be that farfetched to believe, can it?"
There was a little bit more silence before Bumblebee said sheepishly, "he does have a point…"
Sam grinned and clapped his hands together stiffly. "Thank you! At least someone believes me."
However, when he made that statement, Bumblebee slumped a little and whined as he turned away. His back was hunched, his shoulders trembling, and his door wings were drooping. Sam's face fell, and he looked at the other mechs, who appeared to be struggling a bit with themselves not to say anything. Stricken, Sam grew disheartened and hurt from the lack of reply. "You… do believe me, right?"
Optimus looked at him with a strange expression on his face. It looked like he was torn between his shame for making Sam upset, his doubts about the whole thing, and his desire to make Sam happy. But skepticism won, and he suddenly performed a very human-like gesture: he shrugged. "I am sorry Sam, but this is a little too much for me to take in right now. It is stressing my processor more than I'd like… and I hate to say this, but…"
"You may have hit your head too hard." Ratchet spoke up crisply, and scanned Sam's form, which was starting to show elevated vital signs induced by the sudden extra stress. "You must understand… No one has heard the voice of Primus for thousands of vorns. Primus is… much more sacred than even the original Transformers. Optimus has never heard his voice. It is… unthinkable. Your injuries, coupled with the stress of everything occurring in the past few weeks could all just be affecting your mind."
There were more words, but every one that was uttered cast cold stones into the pit of Sam's belly. His heart felt as if someone were squeezing it with icy fingers, slowly choking him. He couldn't bear to listen to all of it, but the sentences crept into his ears anyway. It was one instance he truly wished words went through his ear and came out the other… then he wouldn't be able to truly process it. After a few more minutes of it, he finally spoke up.
"Shut up."
All three mechs looked at him in shock, and Ratchet bristled. "Excuse me?"
Sam lifted his gaze from where it had been poised to look at his lap and stared the medic straight in the optics. "I said, shut up. If this is how you're going to treat me, then leave me alone. I don't want to hear anymore from you about my 'fragile state of mind' and my 'hallucinations.'"
"But Sam-" Optimus had started, only to have Sam give him the most conflicted look he'd ever seen. It reeked of anger and depression, and it cut him deeply.
"You know what? Just go!" He hated to yell at Optimus, but he didn't think he could stand being in the same room with them at the moment… not when they thought he was delusional for thinking he could communicate with their deity. So what if he was human? He never thought he was anything special. He had never asked for anything besides a halfway decent car and the girl. He got both, but things turned out infuriatingly complicated… and he honestly didn't want to deal with it right now. Not while he was still hurt and stressed out from dealing with all the events that had happened so recently. He wanted to be alone.
The mechs hesitated, and after another harsh yell, they finally left him on his own. He knew Ratchet would be back soon (considering he was the medic and would be checking on him, along with whoever he had to consult on human injuries), but at least he had this time to himself. Later on he would realize how childish he was acting, and desire to apologize, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to be selfish. Groaning loudly, he slowly shifted to his side and made himself comfortable. Hopefully he'd feel better after some rest…
Space was beautiful, yet so ugly at the same time. One could gaze at the stars in the inky darkness around them for hours, but even the twinkling orbs got boring at times… and it wasn't often that they stopped at planets unless it was to purge the area of Decepticons, or barter for metal and energy. The layout of the Autobot's starship (the Ark) was etched into his processor from having traversed its corridors and explored its rooms from top to bottom, east to west. Blaster knew this place… but where they were going was sure to be a learning experience.
It had been many vorns since Blaster and the rest of the crew aboard the Ark had heard from Optimus Prime. In fact, they had not seen him since the AllSpark was launched away from Cybertron… and never knew if he and the select few Autobots he'd been with were still alive. It had done a number on their morale, but still they fought on, hoping to find their leader. Those had been dark rotations… and they began to learn new things about themselves each orn… and about their enemies as well.
The red, yellow, and gray mech remembered when he'd had a particularly rough fight with Soundwave and his minions several vorns earlier. He had several Autobots with him at the time (not including his cassettes' which were in his chest), and while the other Autobots distracted the Decepticons, Blaster went directly for his mortal enemy. They unleashed their respective cassettes, and they fought with each other as their creators began their long awaited, supersonic battle. The battle (including other Autobots and Decepticons) had been full of pain, laser fire, and energon splattering on the ground here and there. It wasn't until Blaster had frozen up in battle he'd realized something completely out of the ordinary.
Between all the blows, Soundwave had been pulsing coded messages within each sonic blast he had sent Blaster's way. He had been picking up on the numbers of the frequencies thrown his way, and if he put them in a certain order of when each was received… it spelled out the coordinates for a specific point in a galaxy quite far from the Ark's current location. The last one he had sent was like a blow to the woofer; a sign to stop thinking. Or a push to get back to fighting. Soundwave looked impatient.
"What're you playing at, Soundwave? Tryin' to distract me so your metal cat can sneak attack me from behind or something?" He called, and pulsed a frequency that could induce horrible audio aches if heard in the direction it was sent. If Ravage was there, the pesky spy would clear out in no time!
"Statement: Decepticons mobilizing towards coordinates transmitted. Suggestion: follow." The Decepticon was impassive as ever, with only a twitch in the metal panels (they looked like a mockery of wings) that shifted and fanned behind his back. No one could tell what he was thinking, or even showing on his face. The crimson visor shielded the optics of the Decepticon Communications Officer, and the mask-like faceplate hid the facial features that Blaster had seen many times before… back when they'd been interfacing the spark out of each other. Of course, the war and conflicting viewpoints of the couple had split them apart… not to mention the acts that each mech had committed. Neither could forgive each other, but there was something deep within Blaster that refused to let go of the mech and what they had once shared. He was too stubborn like that…
…Stubborn enough to question Soundwave, anyway. "Oh? Give me one good, sweet reason to keep my audios open for you. If the information ya got is hot to trot, perhaps I'll get the others to follow your lot." He reassured himself that he didn't follow just because he wanted to talk to him… he liked kicking Decepticon aft and Prime could be somewhere over in that direction. Keeping positive was his only option at this point; as the battle was winding down and he could see some of the enemies retreating already. If this information turned out to be as valuable as he hoped it was, then they could be closer to an end to the war instead of some stalemate…
"Megatron's signature is left behind on certain planets. Scans indicate strong concentration is nearby what is thought to be a primitive planet in that galaxy. Possibility of Optimus Prime and Autobots traveling to same destination; eighty-eight percent," Soundwave remarked coolly, and sent a blow in the direction of Blaster's left arm.
Blaster raised an optic ridge even as he dodged it, feeling the close brush with those powerful waves rattle the circuitry in his arm. He hissed a little and sent a bolt of laser fire in the mech's direction. "It seems you're set on this… ya do know it'll take vorns to get there, right?"
"I am aware of that. Best course of action: inform Autobots and leave."
"I don't trust you, but anything's worth finding Prime, even if I have to rely on your 'help,' which seems strangely traitorous and reminiscent of a certain Seeker." Blaster jabbed back, and after a moment of uninterrupted silence, they realized that both factions had soldiers retreating rather quickly. Blaster heard the comm messages from Prowl demanding that he return immediately, and sighing, the Autobot Communications Specialist called for his cassettes to return. As he gazed at the Decepticon and his retreating back, he couldn't help but wonder what motives the mech had hidden...
Even today, he still didn't know what Soundwave had been plotting, but he was right… Optimus Prime and the small fleet of mechs that had gone with him had left traces of their passing; small messages coded and left in trustworthy servos that they picked up on their journey. It certainly gave them hope that he and the other numerous Autobots (that got separated from the main crew on the Ark) were still alive…
And now, they were so close that Blaster could make the trip to Earth in just a few joors! Prowl, however, had decided to something completely unexpected: he wanted to scout the small planet and find the Autobots first. Some mechs suggested that it had to do with Jazz being one of the mechs to travel with Optimus Prime to Earth, and others (the grumpier ones such as Brawn and Gears) based it off of Prowl thinking they weren't capable enough of scouting the Earth.
Blaster knew better.
Prowl took his responsibilities very seriously, and while Jazz was one of his main reasons to return, he felt his position deemed that he needed to be at Optimus's side. They had gotten Optimus's message barely more than fifty-six orns (about two human years) before. The newest one was sent only a few orns before and Prowl had left seven orns ago today. According to his research on the fascinating network called the Internet, Blaster found out that (due to the humans they stayed with) one Cybertronian day (an orn) was equal to thirteen Earth rotations. What seemed like a short time to the Autobots was so much longer in comparison for the humans… Lots of things were different for the humans, such as cultures, music, language, and history… but he found it fascinating. He was most interested in their music (since it linked to their air waves and from there, all aspects of human communication that he needed to learn about), while Jazz had concentrated on more of the Earth as a whole.
Blaster decided it was high time they got their fragging afts down there. Besides, Prowl had not sent back any distress signals, and Blaster had easily tapped into the satellite feeds (remotely, with no tentacles attached) to boost his broadcasting capability and found the Autobots' individual frequencies. Optimus Prime's stood out the most, but he was forced to disconnect when his younglings arrived to give him a report. He transformed into his bipedal form and then swiveled around to see the bright little faces of Eject, Ramhorn, Rewind, and Steeljaw.
"'Ey guys, what's happening?" He greeted them, and opened his chest so that they could fold into their cassette-like forms and retreat in there if they wished.
Rewind started to babble over what he had found out; the locations of the nearest Decepticons, what was on the duty roster for later, what he had seen or not seen on the monitors and security scanners, and the latest gossip. "Did you know that Wheeljack likes the scent of the antiseptic wash medics use on injuries? He says it reminds him of Ratchet… Oh and did you know that Bluestreak talked to Smokescreen who spoke to Powerglide who heard from Inferno that he heard from Red Alert who saw Windcharger and Cliffjumper kissing through his security cameras?"
Blaster nodded indulgently as he snickered at the behavior of the other Autobots and gave him a pat on the head. "That's fascinating and all, Rewind, but I gotta say: do you need recharge? You're lookin' a little energy deprived."
The black, yellow, and white cassette seemed sheepish at that. "I was too excited about our upcoming travel to Earth."
"It'll be a home run!" Eject added. The blue sports loving cassette chirped and clapped a servo on his twin's shoulder as they gave each other smiles. The two were more closely in tune with each other's feelings, more so than their other siblings, but they still cared for all of their siblings. Speaking of siblings…
Ramhorn snorted. "Our home is on Cybertron, not Earth." The quadruped cassette had a wicked sharp spike protruding from his long nose, had short stocky legs and a small tail. He was colored a muddy red orange and he stamped on the floor. His form was so similar to a rhino that Blaster had to hold in a laugh.
"Cybertron is a wreck. Earth is our temporary home." Steeljaw purred out, and trotted towards Blaster's awaiting servos. The beastly feline was like a lion, a golden yellow in color and regal in stance and speech. He seated himself next to Blaster, and immediately, he got a nice scratch behind his ears from his creator. Purring, he continued: "we may not know much of it yet, but it shall be a place where we can rebuild… besides, do you not want to see our comrades?"
"Hmph. I do. I just wish I had a Decepticon to smash," Ramhorn grumbled. "I'm recharging." He transformed into a slim cassette-like object and went into Blaster's chest to take in a bit of energy from his creator as well as recharge.
Blaster looked at his chassis fondly, though a bit worriedly. Ramhorn had always been unusually aggressive, and it made Blaster uneasy on how he would sometimes lose control of his anger. Ramhorn had been onlined for the first time in an exceptionally dangerous time, and had nearly been killed in his first few orns of life. That had been one experience that Blaster could never forget, and Ramhorn still had the scars from it on his protoform.
Sighing, the red mech looked to his other younglings. Steeljaw was the oldest, while Eject and Rewind were the youngest. The two looked tired, and he ushered them inside with a smile. "C'mon guys. I still gotta contact Ultra Magnus and his crew to let him know that we're gonna be stationed on Earth. Well, once we get clearance t'land…" They needed to be closer before he could contact the Autobots without the use of a satellite... problem was, they'd have a heck of a time trying to land when they were in such a large ship. Oh well! They'd figure it out when they spoke to Prime.
Blaster went on to contact Ultra Magnus and his crew, and once he was finished, he eagerly walked to his berth. He was exhausted, and after sinking onto the berth, he settled into a restful recharge… Knowing that when he awoke, he would be several joors closer to a new orn.
Angelic- I was going to end this part with something dramatic, but then I just went, "nahh." Uh, yeah. This is only PART ONE of chapter five. I know this is shorter than my normal chapters, but damn, it's longer than most things people post on this website. Plus I will have a niece in a few hours, and I'm excited! Excited like I was for the start of the World Cup! I hope you've been watching, because it's been awesome so far~!
Anyway, Sam's being a bit of a dramatic twit because he's in pain, stressed out, and upset. He's angry because no one believes him, and he's been through a lot of events in the past few months, obviously. Don't worry, he's not going to be whining as much in part two. He'll get over it in the hopes that the Autobots "see the light" and eventually come to believe him… But of course, since it is Sam, he'll be really stubborn about the whole situation. Not to mention he and Leo have to go back to class… and the Decepticons aren't just sitting quietly. They'll find out that Sam's not dead… and things will pick up from there. I'll go back and edit the other chapters as well as this one for errors I might have missed: this chapter isn't beta'ed, so I need to.
Please take time to review. I'm not so sure I deserve them for making you all wait, but hopefully this makes up for it!
PS. The first ten reviewers are allowed to request a one-shot for me if they wish! :D It'll help me keep up my writing groove. Seriously. I'll write almost anything for you, limitations can be discussed later.
