AN: thanks to "koryandrs" and "angel897" for your reviews. But two reviews? Come on, you guys. A chapter from Sam's POV adds a new prospective to the story, and lets us see more of their relationship, and no one had anything to say? You make me sad.

This chapter was hard to write, I wrote and re-wrote it a hundred times, so I'm so sorry for taking so long. But you are my readers, and it is my job to give you the best I can.

I have a request, my dears. I am NOT holding my story 'hostage' so to speak, waiting for a certain amount of reviews before the next chapter, but can you please make me feel really nice and give me at least four reviews per chapter, either complimenting me, or giving me constructive criticism, or really just anything you think. I take kindly to suggestions and idea, so don't be afraid to volunteer them, or just tell me what you thought in general. Pretty, pretty please!

Also, this chapter is a bit of a filler, but it's necessary, it expand on Raven and the kind of person she is.

I'm saying it one last time for the rest of the story: I don't own transformers.

"Raven… Raven wake up…" I hear Sam's voice, distant and barely audible. Someone shakes me a little and I try to reach for their hand to break their wrist. "Raven come on, we need to get out.

Get lost, Sam, I'm sleeping.

"I know you're sleeping, but you need to get up before they drag you out."

If you don't leave me alone, I'll beat you up.

"Yeah right, you can't even see me; how are you planning to beat me up, eh?"

Huh? What? You can hear me? How are you in my mind?

"I'm not in your mind; you're talking out loud, stupid. Now wake up before they drag you out of here by your arms and legs." I ignore him, groan, and roll over to get more comfortable. "Alright, suit yourself. But I'm warning you that you brought this on yourself."

I scream as he begins tickling me, thrashing and squirming and flailing as I try to slap his hands away from my ribs and neck.

"Ah, n-no, get away f-from m-me! No-o-o- n-not fair! Ok, no, you as-you as-asked for this you little free-ee-eek. I give you one last chance t-to sto-op!" He doesn't, instead tickling my even more. "I'm not responsible for injuries!" I scream as a last-ditch effort to get him to stop. Thankfully, he remembered the last time I said that all too well, and in an instant, his hands – and him all together – are gone and I hear shuffling back away from me. I open my eyes to see Sam stumbling out of the car, an expression of fear on his face.

"Wise choice," I snarl, now fully awake. I rub what's left of sleep from my eyes, scratching at my head as I push myself up and stand up, instantly becoming dizzy. I fall back on the bench, trying to catch my balance, and only get up and out when I trust myself enough to stand on my own two feet.

Sam laughs from outside the van, and I jump out, purposely bumping into him and pushing him back, he falls on his behind, complaining about how it hurt. "Cry-baby," I say with a smirk, and then reach out a hand, which he takes, pulling himself to his feet. "So what's the plan?"

"We're getting into a helicopter and going somewhere else," he says. A helicopter? I look around, seeing the sun just barely up, and groan.

"Argh! It's too early," I complain, grabbing hold of Sam's shoulder and lean on him for support as my body realize how early it is and tries to send me back to sleep. I've never gotten up this early – I've stayed up that late, but never got up before eight thirty… and that's only because I had school and didn't want to be too late.

Lazily, I rub my eyes, trying to get the sleep out, but I'm not very successful. "Come on," Sam tells me, supporting me as we start walking. "Let's go." I crack my eyes open, hiding in the shadow of Sam's head to keep the sun out as we're walking to a helicopter. We get in and a guy in a uniform secures us in place with a million buckles. A headset is placed on our heads, and the mics are turned on. We test them, making sure we hear each other, and then we wait for something to happen, making small chit-chat as well as deep conversation about what happened.

"I can't believe they took him," Sam whispers, referring to Bumblebee. "They just… took him, like he's some sort of stray animal." His voice shakes in anger, hands clenching into fists. "He didn't do anything wrong, and they froze him and dragged him off with no regard to anything," he hisses, his voice shaking. I place a gentle hand on his arm, rubbing my thumb back and forth, trying to sooth him.

"We'll get him back, Sam, I promise you," I say softly, hearing my own voice in my headset from my proximity to his microphone.

"How can you know that? You saw what they did to him back there."

"So what? We'll figure something out. We can bargain or something. And besides, aren't you the bigger optimist of the two of us?" I tease, trying to lighten his mood. "I promised we'd get him back, and I might not be Miss Honesty, but have I ever given you reason to not believe my word?"

"A few times, yeah." My mouth drops open, shock overtaking my face.

"Ah… it's nice to be loved," I joke, knowing full well that yes, in fact, I did several times. I did look him in the eye, and I did tell the outright lie, and yes I did promise him something and not keep my word. "But in the past few years I've been working on that," I say. "I'm not the most truthful person in the world, that's a given, but if I give my word, I make sure to keep it… unless I promise a teacher to bring in an assignment the next day, but that doesn't count," I say, lowering my tone and pointing a mockingly scolding finger at the boy.

"That's right," Mikaela says, joining the conversation. "Education might be important, but school is a different matter altogether. Oh don't look at me like that," she says, rolling her eyes. "My grades aren't up at the top, despite what everyone thinks. I might have a good attendance record, but I hand in about as much work as Raven." I raise my eyebrows and turn around, holding up a hand, which she high-five's.

"By the way," Mikaela says, quite a bit shyly. "I know it's not my business to ask, and you don't have to answer but… what's the matter?" I give her a confused, questioning look and she goes to explain what she means. "Everyone knows that you aren't stupid. I mean… you teach Advanced Computer Science because the teacher can't make it, and you're the teacher's assistant/substitute for Computer Programming. So why are the rest of your classes… you know… not very good…?" she allows. I resist the urge to spit a snarky comment about how she's the one who slept with the entire football team, and has no right to speak to me that way.

"Ok, first of all, you're right: it is none of your business. But second of all: I'm just too lazy to get any work done. I like computer class, that's why I try; I don't care about the rest. It's not like I'll be needing physics to clean tables in KFC," I say with a shrug.

"Well… yeah but… you aren't going to be working at KFC for the rest of your life; you were in the computer programming Olympics last year."

"I know… and your point is…?"

"That you won second place for example? Didn't you get a scholarship or something?"

"Yes, Mikaela, I did get a scholarship, but it's worth jacks-squad if I don't get into college, and let's face it; I won't even show up for the final exam, so I have no hope there."

"Why do you do that?" she asks, half softly, and half annoyed to the beyond. "I mean come on; no girl who teaches a class, and substitutes slash assists with another – both of which are advanced – and a girl who goes to a country-wide Olympics and wins a silver at age seventeen can't honestly want nothing else in life. Why do you do this to yourself? Look at you; you have a future full of great possibilities with your skill set."

I want to snap at her, tell her to shut up and mind her own business because she has no idea what's she's saying. I already opened my mouth to bitch it all out at her, but then I snap it shut loudly, going a little red in the face as I realize something; Mikaela is right. No one is doing this to me but me. Looking back at it, it all began when I suddenly decided I was all grown up and knew better. Only I knew jack about squad, and it was my stuck-up-ness that brought me here in the first place. If I tried giving a damn about school, I could do really well, and choose a course out of over a dozen options that I could have. I could go into film animation, computer coding; hell, with the right University degree, I could go into Google! I could do so much, but I chose not to. I chose to live by "why do it now when you can do it later?" and it's taking me down a deep, deep hole; only out of which I'm afraid I won't be able to climb out of if I go falling any longer.

Problem is, I know myself too well. I know that even with this new realization, I won't change my ways. So instead of snapping at the raven-haired girl, I turn to her and give her an embarrassingly true answer; "I don't have the willpower to change it."

"Then why don't you ask for help?" Because I'm too ashamed to ask for anything. Because I did this to myself, and it's up to me to fix it all. Because it's the mess I created – the mess of my life – and it's up to me to choose to take care of it or not, and it's my fault and mine alone that I can't… pardon the lie; that I don't want to. I know for fact that I have the ability and persistence to get myself out of this, but that the heart of the problem isn't what I can or cannot do; it's what I want or don't want to do.

But I don't say any of that. I just shrug and shake my head. "I don't know," I tell her. "I just don't." Mikaela doesn't get to retort because just then, another couple of people are brought into the helicopter and they go through the same procedure we went through – getting strapped in nice and tight until they can't breathe. Through the headset, I hear them both breathing heavily, like they just ran a great distance.

The blades of the helicopter start up not a minute late, and I grip the seat under me, actually grateful that I was strapped in to the point of suffocation when I feel the ground beneath us disappear. I'm not afraid of heights, but I don't trust anything that isn't my own two feet to not drop me.

"Afraid of heights?!" the blonde woman asks loudly over the rotating blades and wind, looking at me, her Australian accent thick and beautiful and totally making me jealous. I shake my head no.

"It's not the height I'm worried about so much as the drop!" I shout back into the microphone. "Why are you here?!"

"I… was recruited by the Pentagon to decipher a strange signal that tried to hack into their systems. Whoever was behind it tried it again, this time with Air Force One, and this time succeeded hacking into the Pentagon security system, downloaded a tone of information, and uploading a virus into the system at the same time,!" she says, emphasizing 'at the same time', which successfully dropped my jaw onto my lap, since I know a little about that, and even I can't hack into the Pentagon, let alone download data and upload a virus – that is too deadly – all at once. "And all that in under a minute. Once I realized there was a message encrypted in the signal, I copied it and took it to Glen to hack into it!" Australia says, nodding her head at her companion.

"No man, you didn't bring it ta me, you busted into my grand mama's house without a warning, tellin' me you needed help!" the man – Glen, I guess – complains loudly.

"Under a minute?!" I shout back in, speaking even louder – I have this thing where I feel like no one hears me if I don't hear myself, so I shout at everyone every time I'm speaking with music on.

"We had to shut down the entire system and reboot it before they stole everything and fried what was left of us!" I stare in awe, marveling over what they – I assume that would be either the Autobots or the Decepticons, since I doubt anyone on Earth is smart enough to get Air Force One to shut all their systems down; those guys can handle anything I ever tried to throw at them! – did, wishing it was me who did that. I would become absolutely the most famous anonymous hacker in history if I pulled that off! They got the Air Force One to shut down a defense network! I'd get so much recognition with my fellow cyber-criminals who no one is ever going to know about. If it were me – I now put it on my to-do list – I'd be the greatest hacker the world will never know about!

"The signal was evolving; it was learning. Anything we threw at it, it just adapted to, got smarter and stronger. It was unlike anything I've ever seen and- I'm sorry, I'm getting carried away."

I only laugh at that. "No, lady; it's cool!" I shout back. "Trust me, I was cracking signals when I was in grade five, so don't worry, you're making perfect sense! I just don't get how a signal could evolve like that! I was working on a- I mean I was reading about a smart-virus-" lame name, I know, "-and even it had a year of works to go! It's a super virus, designed to rival a super computer level security system. It learns on its own, like an actual virus; evolving on its own, instead of with a hacker's assistance. But there is no way it could have hacked AFO in under a minute… That's just crazy!"

I have every camera – cell phones, computers, security camera – in any CIA building in two minutes, I can break down the Firewalls without being spotted in… ten minutes tops, I was reading the Whitehouse email from age ten – not that I understood anything – but I have yet to bust through the Pentagon.

"I took the signal to Glen, but the copy was spotted and the cops came after us." That's when Glen snaps at her to shut up.

"Ah told you naht to say anything ta anyone! This can cost me mah reputation!" he cries, his voice hitching on the last word of both sentences. Wait… why would she go to Glen with a signal that broke down the security system? Oh I get it! Hello fellow hacker!

"Hold up!" I say loudly, talking to Glen. "You hacked a signal that hacked AFO?!"

"Might have," Glen croaks.

"That's awesome! You gonna have to show me how you did that!"

He waves a dismissing hand at me. "Nah! I learned it from a guy on the net. Far as I heard, he's the best hacker in the United States! If you want to learn anything, you gonna have ta find someone who knows someone, who knows him. I was just lucky to know the right people! He goes by The Raven!" I clench my jaw to keep it from falling open. He learned how to hack a probably extraterrestrial signal from 'The Raven'?

I press my lips into a tight line, just barely keeping a smug smile off my face. Yeah, real subtle in these things, aren't I? Ok, I might have a couple of educational sights for young hackers. I have a blog where people can post all sorts of requests, and every now and then, I do the job I signed up for by starting the blog and fulfill some of them. I get stuff like "please hack into my boyfriends accounts to tell me if he's cheating on me" or "please get a hold of all my husband's phone calls so I can prove that he's unfaithful", or "please send me a copy of my school division's final exam answer key", or "need info on my husband's finances!".

Little things like that, which I then use to find some interesting things. You have no idea what you can find out about a person just looking at their email. It's usually nothing much, but the kind of email they get, and from what people can really tell a great deal about who they are as a person. Mostly it isn't anything grand, but once I get my hands on a bank account, my week becomes that much better – depends on how much money they have to spare. It isn't like I'm hurting anyone; I'm only getting a few hundred at a time, not to draw attention. And while I'm at it, I check all the money transfers, when and where they were made, and sometimes, I come across a real expensive dinner at a very classy restaurant that the wife didn't know anything about.

It's what I do: get information. It's what I'm best at. I get things I shouldn't know, and I help people get those things on their own… if they're good enough to find 'The Raven'.

It's all encrypted in code and cipher, and only the only ones who can find me are those who already know who I am. Nobody knows about me. All they see is just a guy who gets a hold of their child's email, Facebook, etc. account to see who the kid is talking to, and reports back to them. The actual work I do no one knows about. All I do that people see is show people how to do it. 'The Raven' is a teacher and/or help line for newbie hackers.

The poor newbies get caught, though, because they always miss a step. I keep tabs on all cybercrime-related news casts and other information sources. Just two weeks ago a young teen hacker was caught. He was described as a high school trouble maker who did drugs and got suspended on a weekly basis. Actually, all reports were damn near identical to that. They were always some thug dude who liked getting into trouble.

Talk about cliché. This begs the question, though: is that how they see us? Is that how they see me?

What am I talking about? No one sees me at all. And that's just how I like it. No one can know about me. I'm not even one of the good guys; not in there, not on the cyber-world. Everyone has secrets… until I expose them.

It's in my blood, I suppose, to find out what people are hiding, and exploit it. I'm very good at getting information, and I'm even better at using it. I guess it's just my nature to tell things that people want to keep buried. I can't be entrusted with secrets because the temptation of giving them away is always too much for me. I don't keep anybody's secrets, except for Sam. And ever with him, not always. We have a lot of fights over this very matter. I taught Sam to never trust me with anything too important. The more interesting it is, the stronger the urge is to tell.

Moral of the story: don't trust me with so much as your locker combination, because I'll dig up some real nasty stuff about you.

"Hold on so… let me get this straight! You stole a top secret file and took it to him; and you hacked it; and both of you were busted?!"

"Yeah! Pretty much! And you? What are you three here for?!"

Before I can open my mouth, Sam answers. "Uh… I bought a car! It turned out to actually be an alien robot!" Australia's face freezes in an expression of shock, while Hacker mouths the word "wow". I nod my head smugly. The big guys may have hacked the Pentagon and stole data, but we met them personally – both the good guys, and the bad guys. "Who knew?"

"And I just happened to be in the right place in the right time," Mikaela says with a smirk. We keep making small talk to keep away from awkward silence until I turn to my right to look outside and see some sort of huge dam. I dig my nails into the seat as the helicopter bancs to the side, maneuvering for a land.

Once finally on the ground, we go through a very long and confusing process of getting out of the million buckles and straps, and finally, I'm free. I practically shove Sam forward climbing out after him and sighing in relief when my feet hit the ground. Sweet dear Earth, I have missed you! But before I can appreciate the ground beneath my feet fully, we are ushered into yet another black van, and driven off.

"I swear if I see another black van, I'll scream," I say with a huff. We don't drive for long, and once there, the van stops and we are let out. Outside, it's only about seven in the morning, the sun shining brightly, and I'm once again reminded how early I had to get up.

But the thought is quickly brushed aside when I see the view from all the way up here, at the very top of the dam. I follow Sam and Mikaela, wedging myself between the two and lean dangerously over the edge, instantly becoming dizzy. But the view was amazing! I could wee so far from so high, the river stretching and curving like a blue watery snake, glimmering in the rising sun.

I pull my phone out and take a snap shot of it, first vertically and then horizontally for laptop wallpaper use. Then I take a few steps back. "Hey guys, look here!" I call out to my two companions. They abide and, seeing the camera in front of my face, get into position, leaning back onto the cement 'railing'. I take a photo, than kneel on the ground, taking a picture from a lower angle, and then another one from the left, all three being in different poses from the two. "Lovely!" I chirp excitedly.

"Here, give me that," Sam says. We trade places, and I get up onto the wall, my legs on it in front of me, leaning back on my hands. A soft breeze blows past me, and I close my eyes, saying a little prayer about not falling because of the wind and Sam take a picture of me sitting on the dam. This is so going up on Facebook. Maybe I'm even submitting it to the yearbook comity. Yes, I'm definitely doing that.

"Ooh! I have an idea!" Mikaela exclaims, clapping her hands like a child. "Sam, go over there and sit on the wall. Raven, get down and stand in front to form him." We do as she says, and I put on a winning smile as Sam wraps his arms around my tightly, protectively, lovingly. I take hold of one of his arms, leaning my head on it and Mikeala take a photo. "Wonderful! Ok, now Sam swing one leg over the edge, and Raven, sit tight next to him, and hug again!" I get up on the wall, going back into Sam's embrace, leaning into his chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly against me. After another two pictures, vertical and horizontal, we get off, and I take my phone, shoving Mikeala to the edge of the dam.

"Come on, it your turn to go solo." She crosses her legs over and leans back on their elbows, her hair over one shoulder, casting a nice shadow on her face. I gotta give it to her: the girl can look really hot when she wants to, because right now, if I were a guy, I'd be getting… you know… yeah… "You look great! Ok for real, you're gonna have to teach me how you do that," I say.

"Do what?" the girl asks innocently, batting her eyelashes at me. Yeah, she's good.

"Look guys," I say, flipping through the photos we just took.

"Oh! I like that one!" Sam says, jabbing a finger at the screen – the photo where he's sitting one leg over the dam, with me cradled into his arms, and soft, joyous smile on his boyish face.

"Alright; that's enough bonding time, we aren't here on a tour," some soldier says, appearing out of nowhere so suddenly that I actually jump, my hand flying to my heart.

"Would ya make some noise?!" I snap, turning around to face whoever it is. We are ushered away from the edge of the dam as I put my phone back onto my pocket. Down the bridge which leads to the elevator – if I'm not mistaken – waits a guy in a bullet proof vest and a pair of black shades – a guy I recognize to be that creep who checked Mikaela; Simmons. I'd smack him if I wasn't a chicken and if I thought I could actually hurt him any. But sadly, I left my strength in my video games, and in real life, I can't even smack Sam and make it hurt.

We stop in front of him, and I glance at Sam to see his distasteful look, and then glance the other way to see Mikaela's hateful and disgusted look. I wouldn't put it past her to castrate him, given that deathly look in her eyes. She doesn't say or do anything; she just looks at him, which adds to the effect. The look alone sends a shiver up my arms.

Simmons starts babbling on and on about some crap no one cares about, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam gives that hand a look as if it's infected with some incurable virus, and then cuts him off impatiently. "Where is my car?" A half-bald guy appears next to Simmons, as the said man glares at my best friend.

"Son," he says, "listen to me very carefully; people can die here. We need to know everything you know, and we need to know it now." Sam presses his lips into a tight line, not wanting any of the bullshit. I see it in an instant, and thank dear god above for giving Sam such a movie loving friend that Miles is. Sam has something they want, so he is in the position to demand and negotiate.

"Ok…" Sam says through his teeth, trying to control himself. "But first I'll take my car, my parents… you might want to write that down. I want you to ensure Raven's future will be a financially healthy one, and she will get into a good college regardless of her educational achievements because for your information," Sam hisses, leaning in and getting all up in Simmons' face, "she got a silver in the computer programming Olympics of the country. Oh and one more thing: Mikaela's juvenile record… it's gotta be gone… for good."

I gasp a little at his conditions – particularly the ones about me. I purse my lips in anger and jab him in the ribs with my elbow, hissing "I didn't ask for your help," bitterly. But it breaks my heart when he looks down at me for a fraction of a second. The look in his eyes is… confusing; a mix between hurt and pity and sadness, He was really trying to help me and I snapped at him. But I didn't ask him to help me or speak as if he knows anything.

Mikaela silently thanks him as we are lead away, and I glare at her, drilling holes in the back of her neck. That little… perfect girl. Look at her, all smiley and giggly and blushy, with sad eyes and perfect curves; all grateful about Sam sticking up for her. And me… I didn't ask to be protected, and suddenly I'm the bad guy here, being made feel guilty as I should be. I fight a short battle between my pride and the fact that Sam was trying to help me out, make my life better. He had the power to negotiate my position and any further possible positions anywhere outside of KFC, and I snapped at him and hurt him.

Yeah ok, my ego was a total bitch just then.

I lean closer to him, pulling down at his shoulder to get his ear to my level, say softly. "I'm being rude again, aren't I?" He looks down at me, and it breaks my heart to see what his eyes – those truthful, honest, caring green eyes – hold. He has already forgiven me. "I don't know why you put up with me."

"You're just really stuck up and annoying and can be a real pain in the behind sometimes. But you're only like that sometimes. All the other times… they outweigh your snapping out. You stick with me, and I stick with you; that was the promise. Just try to say it nicely next time. I don't particularly enjoy getting bruised ribs because I'm trying to look after you – because frankly, you aren't mature enough to look after yourself. And I'm gonna be here all the time, ready to kick some sense into you."

And even when I don't get the shivers, I don't believe he's really over what I said. Great going, dumbass; now you hurt him by opening that big mouth of yours. I'm so proud of you, Raven. I want to slap myself for what I said to Sam just a few minutes ago. How disgusting was that? But then again, he did jump in where he wasn't needed, sticking his nose in my business. Again.

"Alright here's the situation," Simmons announces as we get out of the elevator, walking towards the entrance of the dam. "We have all had direct contact with the NBE's," he says, his voice all high and mighty. NBE… that came up on my search for Sector Seven last night. But what was it?

"What are NBE's?" a black soldier walking on the other side of Simmons – we've been joined with a handful of solders, who, apparently, met these 'NBE's as well as we did (again, apparently) – asks the question on everyone's minds.

"Non-Biological Extraterrestrials, try to keep up with the acronyms," Simmons explains conceitedly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and everyone should know about it, even if it's from some top secret organization.

Non-Biological-… Oh I get it! He's talking about… But why not just call them GRTs or Giant Robot Things? The original title is too long and hard to remember. I like the name much better and it was much easier to remember than 'Non-Biological Extraterrestrials.

We enter the dam and to through at least five minutes of security, the soldiers there are doing eye-scans, and fingerprint scans, and tons of other scans on anyone who is an S-7 staff member, before letting us in. We walk through a maze of corridors, doctors and solders walking about their way.

"What you are about to see is totally classified," the half bald guy announces as we walk through a little tunnel and into a giant room or hangar

But once inside, I freeze, my gaze trailing upward in complete and utter shock at the figure in front of me. I find, and grab a tight hold of Sam's hand, and cower behind him, hoping the fact that he's taller than me will help conceal me from any possible view. Looming like a ghost, completely frozen in ice, was the one I recognized from a holographic projection Optimus showed us in the alley: Megatron.

Oh. Shit.

AN: so what do you think? Did you like it? Again, please leave at least for reviews per chapter, telling me something - anything - you thouhgt about the chapter, and I will reply to any review over a hundred and fifty characters.

Also, I feel like Raven is becoming too much of a Mary-Sue, or not making sense to people. This opinion may vary from person to person, but this is VARY IMPORTANT:

Please PM me, and list all the things you notice about her that do not make her a Mary-Sue. The realistic human traits and flaws that make Raven a believable character. Anything and Everything you notice about her as a person, that make her not a Mary-Sue, so that I know how you as readers see her. The last thing I want is to make a perfect character, because those are just annoying. I NEED TO KNOW HOW YOU SEE HER.

Have an absolutely wonderful day or night, and I will see you all next time.