I'm sorry for the wait again, but you'll be happy to know that I've put this story on top-priority now. I've graduated high school, which means no more AP homework, and far more energy left to be dedicated towards FanFiction. I still love this story, and now I have both the motivation and the opportunity to finish it. Anyone who's happy about this chapter, you can thank Kottori, digi-smile, Yami-The Lord of Darkness, BELLA X STARFIRE7745231, ArthurShade, Skyice98, Monster dog, and UnknownUntold. Thank you all for the reviews, because you're absolutely the reason I found the motivation to work on this story again.

On a completely unrelated note, I realized that in the last chapter I had the twins stay behind with Ron and Judy as bodyguards, but I also had them present on the return to Earth. Due to my honest-to-Primus laziness, I probably won't go back and fix it. That would require too much reworking of wording, so instead, just pretend that they're present in voice only. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are still on the moon guarding Ronald and Judith, but the two groups don't really care to interact too much, so the twins would rather sit out in front of the house and talk with the group via transmission. Alright? They aren't actually, physically on Earth though.

As per usual, I don't own anything and I sincerely hope you all enjoy!

My headache stubbornly stayed through the entire checkup. I guess I should be grateful the head rush eventually went away, but it's kind of hard when Ratchet looks more and more disappointed the longer he checks me over. When he finally let me drop my arms from a particularly thorough scan, I must have let them drop with too much attitude- and the scowl might not have helped -because he knocked me upside the head.

"Hold still."

"I am." I grumbled, arms getting tired from holding them outward for so long. "Am I really that much different from last time you checked?"

"Forty-six more connections in your nervous-system have broken and sixteen more servos have run dry." He stated point-blank.

I don't know what any of that means, but... "Oh."

"Wait, sixteen?" Bumblebee interrupted, his doorwings twitched anxiously even when Ratchet glared at him. He stepped back, but didn't back down.

"That's right." Ratchet sighed and turned his attention back to me. "Lower your arms."

I sighed in relief and let them drop.

"Slowly." He hissed, and I moaned and 'slowly' let them drop the rest of the way. "Now raise them again."

"Are you kidding me?" I accidentally objected. But I quickly went to raise them before he even said anything. He just gave me that look.

"Slowly."

I raised them the rest of the way slowly.

"Again."

"Why?" I moaned, slowly lowering them. He didn't answer as I raised my arms again. When I was doing it for a second time and Ratchet was still watching my arms intently, I rolled my head over to my guardian. "Bumblebee..."

Ratchet whacked me upside head. "Don't roll your head like that."

I groaned with increasing irritation, but held my head straight. "I feel stupid."

"Ratchet, what's he doing?" Bumblebee decided to back me up.

"Our anatomy may be dramatically different from what you're familiar with, Samuel," Ratchet finally started an answer as I started it for a third time, "But surely you're familiar with 'joints'."

I scoffed. "Yeah. Anything that moves has 'em."

"And yours aren't supposed to jerk like that." He reached forward to tap my left shoulder. I looked at it, but didn't notice anything that off. I mean, my arm was swaying slightly from how many times I've had to do this and my shoulders did kind of hurt by now, but...

"I don't get it."

"Lift your arm as fast as you can." He instructed. I did so, but I felt a twinge in my shoulder that made my arm jerk one way real quick. I gasped in pain, though it was more surprise than actual pain. "Now drop it." I let it fall like I'd tried before and he yelled at me. This time when it fell, still sore from the sudden movement upwards, that same twinge pricked me again. This time harder.

I grabbed my upper arm and gasped for real this time. "Ow."

"Do you see what I mean?" Ratchet sighed and shook his head. He gestured to me in general, "I can't do anything about this. You've got underdeveloped mechanisms, not just processing systems. And they're drying up like the Ark's reseviors. You're literally running on empty now, and the sustained use of your processors, at normal rate from that dowsing, is accelerating the process. What normally would go to basic motor controls is getting used up keeping you conscious and aware."

"So what are you saying?" Bumblebee asked, inching closer again.

"He'd last to his seventeenth birthday on a natural degrading cycle, but in our attempt to postpone it and keep him awake, we've got even less time."

"How long?" Bee insisted, not backing off from Ratchet's half-hearted glare.

"I can't say for sure, Bumblebee." He actually took a step back and crossed his arms. "A cycle or two less, at most. Maybe three."

"And how long is that, exactly?" I don't exactly know your guys' lingo here.

"Four or five days." Bumblebee breathed.

"Four or five days less? Because I'm still awake?" I moaned. "You know what, why don't I go to sleep, and you guys wake me up when we get there?"

"Don't start getting short with me." Ratchet snapped.

"I wasn't-"

"Take him back into the main room." Ratchet completely ignored my defense. "There nothing I can do without energon right now. I think they've contacted Agent Simmons already, you can look into that." He dismissed us. He seems to have taken over the fourth room, which is probably a miniature medical bay already anyways. Bumblebee went to pick me up again.

"I'm not getting short with anyone. I was serious." I muttered, glaring at the ground while we left. The door swung closed behind us, and I felt him rub my head again.

"He's just worried about you." Bumblebee assured. I ducked my head and glared at him.

"I'm fine. You guys are going to find the Allspark in plenty of time, we still have twelve days." A few hours to get to Earth, a couple more to get to this 'Simmons' character, and anywhere between a couple hours to a day or two to get to the island, probably. That's still plenty of time, and I'll be fine.

"Your faith in our abilities hasn't changed." He mused, smiling slightly. "There are always complications. I wouldn't relax until we at least have Diego Garcia in our sights."

"Right." I crossed my arms and faced forward. He rubbed my head again, and I didn't push him off this time. I want this all to be over as soon as possible. I want everyone to stop freaking out so much, because it's freaking me out. They're all so serious, concerned about my systems shutting down- or whatever -while I'm still not grasping the fact that I have systems. This is crazy, but I really just want to sleep. I'm tired, alright?

"No." Bumblebee gave me a look.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"Don't even think about taking a nap."

"How could you possibly know what I was thinking about?" I scoffed. What, now he's a mind reader?

"I know you. You aren't going to sleep until we get there." He dropped me onto my feet on the counter so I had to stand. I was getting too comfortable sitting down now?

"Whatever." I glared at the ground again.

"What were the results?" Optimus asked Bumblebee as he walked nearer to the monitor they were working with. I stayed put, even though I could have walked along the counter to stay with them.

"Ratchet's just getting a better idea of the damage already done, but he still can't fix any of it." Bumblebee explained, and I tuned them out.

Every time they talk, it seems to be about me. I was a great kid in my first life. Their favorite human. I'm one of them now. I'm the first youngling since the beginning of the war. It's so great to have me back. We've got to get me some energon. I'm real damaged, they can't wait until I'm healthy again.

Don't they have anything else to talk about? I'm kind of getting tired of hearing about myself. I mean, I get it. They liked me back when, and it's been a century since. This is a bigger deal to them than it is to me, because all I know is that I'm on a ship in orbit with a bunch of aliens that I feel like I know when I've actually never met them before, and I'm in mortal danger.

"Hey." I looked up to see Prowl. He was still working, but had obviously moved closer intentionally to keep me company. Me, me, me. Come on, what else?

"Hey." I glowered and sat down to hang my legs down.

"How are you feeling?" He asked benevolently. But I snapped.

"I feel like slag. I'm exhausted, I've got a terrible headache, and every time I move faster than a sloth, my brain gets all foggy. But there's not really anything I can do about it right now, and I'm tired of talking about it." I groaned. "How are you feeling?"

He chuckled. "Pushed for time. Just think, it'll all be over soon no matter how it turns out."

"At least there's that." I sighed. After a few moments, just to provide something to do instead of being left alone to dwell on how tired I was, I opened my mouth again. "So what exactly have you all been doing for the last hundred years?"

"Really, not much. Cybertron's healed quite a bit and we've begun to restart some colonies on the surface, but we don't dare go any deeper yet. The Decepticons seem intent on about the same thing because we haven't had very many confrontations. Of course, except for the incident in the Crab Nebula."

"What happened there?" I asked, interested.

"The radiation from one of the neutron stars there tanked our navigation systems, and we were ambushed by the 'cons. At first we thought they'd been there waiting for us, but more likely they were as stuck as we were." He mused. "I honestly think they kept attacking us just to follow us out. That place was a labyrinth, and we were probably there for near a decade total. 'Course, we went back in when Hound had the bright idea to lead the 'cons astray when we figured out they were following us to find the way out."

"Who won that round?"

"No one." He laughed. "We got too close to the neutron star when we went back in and it crippled near half of the rest of our ship. The Ark is still in repair from it. The Decepticons broke off and made a clear path out. If we'd ever had a better chance to kick them, I'm not aware of it. We could have taken their entire ship down and tossed them into the star's gravity field, but staying long enough to do that would have completely disabled the Ark."

"If you didn't come via the Ark, then how'd the rest of you get here?" I wondered.

"Hound brought us around and dropped us off." He answered willingly. "They would have stuck around, but Megatron's been stirring up trouble on Cybertron."

"What kind?"

"We're not quite sure, but we've found some of their scouts around the Rust Ocean shorelines." He mused. "I think they were trying to convert the energon there into consumables, but that's impossible. Even attempting it, if anyone's foolish enough to try and consume any purified form of that stuff, they'll suffer energon deficiency quicker than naturally. It's suicide."

"So they're running out of energon too." I nodded.

"More than likely." He agreed.

"So, if they know, or find out what I am, then they'd realize what's going on too, wouldn't they?" I questioned. "Could they be after it too?"

"I doubt it." Prowl shook his head. "The Allspark sparked you as a pretender; it prepared you and gave you plenty of time to develop the perfect disguise. Nothing short of an actual analysis scan would reveal you aren't human. They'd have no reason to even suspect it right now."

"But they obviously know I'm back."

"That they do." He agreed.

All of the sudden, I was scooped up from behind. I gasped and looked back- causing another quick headrush -only to find it was Bumblebee.

"Ironhide initiated contact with Simmons." Bumblebee informed me, reluctantly ignoring me putting my head in my hands until the headrush passed. He took me toward the monitor again before setting me down once more. Still have to stand. "And he's already replied. He's skeptic, but willing to listen."

"What'd you do, email him?" I scoffed.

"Yes." Ironhide answered in a deadpan. "But we're going to initiate a video feed once we're sure he's on our side. It will take a while to get to him, we can at least spend that time preparing for the trip."

"That's good." I nodded. "Does he have a boat?"

"I don't know. We only just told him who we were and that we need his assistance." Ironhide leaned back and gestured to the screen. "And there's his response."

No trace on the email address, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. But I want proof before I agree to anything.

"What are you going to send back?" I asked, reading through the short reply again.

"Top secret files." Ironhide laughed. "On us, before we left. If he's anything like the Simmons we knew before, he already knows those files are under lock and key from even the people who locked them up."

"So how'd you get them?" I questioned.

"We kept a copy of everything the government had on us in Teletraan." Ironhide mused.

"If they're so secret, then how would he know they're legitimate? You could have made them up."

"He'd know enough already." Ironhide brushed it off as he leaned forward again. "During the drive down there, we're going to discuss plans with him. Arrange transportation down to Diego Garcia, negotiate whatever he wants out of this, and whatever else needs to be done. But that means you'll be talking with him through the video connection since we're going to be on the move the entire way there."

"How far away are we landing?" I wondered. How long exactly is this all going to take? "How long will it take to get to him?"

"Ah..." Ironhide hesitated on this one, glancing to Bumblebee.

"How long?" Bee backed me up with a more serious tone.

"Sunstreaker's mapped out the quickest route, with local border checkpoints and speed limits..." Ironhide hedged.

"How long?" Bee repeated.

"Three days."

...

"We're driving over three thousand miles, if the trajectory you gave us is right." Ironhide pointed at Bumblebee. "You want to shorten that distance, land us a bit closer."

"We've got cover in the Pacific Ocean." Bumblebee grumbled. "And with that hurricane, I'd take longer to get closer before landing than after."

"Then we've got three days to get to Nagercoil, during which time we can overplan and test the various speed limit laws of about five different countries." Ironhide insisted.

"Great." I moaned.

"We'll get you there in time." Bumblebee sighed, rubbing my head. I relaxed, but refused to let it go completely. I watched the clock closely- not really caring to wonder why there was an Earth clock by now -as the two hours passed until we landed. The landing was so jarring that I got whiplash and another massive headache, which threw me off and refused to subside until long after we were on the road. I honestly couldn't say much of what happened between landing and raising my head from my palms as we were nearing seventy miles an hour.

But I could easily describe actually seeing Earth again. It hit me at a hundred miles an hour; I'm back on Earth. We're somewhere in China, but we're back on Earth. I wanted this so badly before, and now, I'm struck by how unimportant it seems.

"Are you alright?" Bumblebee asked.

"Yeah." I breathed, turning to look out the rear view mirror. His alternative form was different from what it had been while we were on the moon- as are the other four's. I wonder when they changed?

Ironhide was behind us with Ratchet bringing up the rear, and ahead of us was Prowl, and then Optimus. We were in a tight convoy, speeding westward.

"Are you sure?" Bumblebee asked, and I got a prickly feeling like someone was scanning me again. I got a flash of irritation.

"Bee, I'm as fine as I can be right now." I rolled my eyes.

The prickly feeling went away, and he sighed. "Buckle up."

As I did so, the radio came on. However, instead of music it was the other's voices. Even Sunny and Sides were back- for they'd left an hour before we landed. They were in the midst of explaining in great and unnecessary detail what route we'd be taking to get to this 'Simmons' character. I wonder if Mom and Dad are outside with them listening or if they're inside?

"But you better find out if Simmons can help you before you get there." Sideswipe insisted. "Because there's a cargo ship leaving near there around the time you should get there. You might be able to make it on board, and that'll get you a lot closer. But if you do take it, you'll still have to go twenty miles or so through the water."

"Ironhide, what's the status with Simmons?" Optimus asked. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, starting to get drowsy again.

The air conditioning kicked on at full blast.

"He's willing to talk with us, and I think we can trust him at this point." Ironhide admitted. "But he's refusing to agree to anything until we talk face-to-face."

"Will he talk with Samuel?" Prime questioned. It's already agreed, I'll video-chat with him while the others can still respond vocally. But no one's stopping to transform.

"I didn't say anything about that. I just told him that one of us will speak with him." Ironhide dodged.

"Are we telling him I'm not human?" I asked tiredly. Sitting and doing nothing was really making the cold-water wakeup wear off.

"Only if we have to." Optimus decided. "I'd rather not let anyone know outside of who already knows, but if need be I don't foresee it becoming an issue."

"Right, so when are we doing this?" I yawned.

There were a few words shared too quickly for me to really care to pay attention, since they obviously weren't aimed this way anyways, before Ratchet came back with an answer.

"I think right now would be wise. Any activity to keep you engaged and fully conscious will be welcome."

"And how are we doing this?" I decided to lean forward and push the vent upwards so it wasn't blowing in my face. Jeeze, it's freezing. But there's no use in asking him to turn it down.

"Bumblebee brought a tablet, remember? Or were you unconscious then too?" Ratchet scoffed as Bee dropped the glove compartment. I stared in amazement at the alien tablet- which looked only a little off than what a normal tablet would look like. They're really prepared, aren't they? They're sure thinking all of this through a lot better than I am.

"I was probably just ignoring you all." I responded easily as I reached for it. Bumblebee laughed.

"Do you need any help with that?" He asked.

"I can figure it out, we've got plenty of time." I mused, leaning back again. I actually only took a moment to figure out how to work the video-transmission thingy. It really helps when icons are so obvious. I can't read anything on this thing, but icons are universal. It must all be in their language, but it's my size. "Was this mine before too?"

"Yeah." Bumblebee answered with a sigh. "Or, sort of. It's been modified and fixed while you were gone."

"Cool." I shrugged it off. I must have known how to read their language then. I'm not surprised, though something tells me I didn't speak it before. Now, I'm going to learn everything their way. I'm going read this stuff, speak this stuff, how to scan like they've been doing me, transform like they've been doing... I'm going to be completely different.

But not until after this is over.

"Alright, so how to I start this transmission? Is there a contact list or something?" I pushed several buttons leading to pages I can't figure out.

"Ironhide input his computer address into it. Look for the orange tab that comes out." Bumblebee instructed me until I reached a button that had a string of random English characters and punctuation marks with a couple numbers thrown in. Complete gibberish, but it seemed to be computer-speak for 'Simmons's Computer'.

"Are you sure he's even at his computer?" I questioned a minute or two after pushing the button. There was another universal symbol; the loading sign. I watched the triangles spin around each other, fading in and out in a simple rhythm while it was waiting for Simmons to answer.

"I imagine he's got his nose glued to it, waiting." Ironhide said over the radio.

The triangles started to glitch, slow, and then completely stop before the screen cut out into the face of a middle-aged man with an excited grin. Which promptly fell and was replaced with a glare.

"Hacked. Pranked. You've made a fool out of me, and I don't like it. You, kid, I don't know what you're trying to pull-" He quickly worked himself up into a frenzy, but Bumblebee interrupted.

"Seymour Simmons?"

He stopped and squinted past me, shaking his head. "Who said that? Kid, I'm talking to you."

"T-that was Bee." I raised my eyebrows, intimidated by this raving man.

"It sure sounds like Simmons." Ironhide mused over the radio. Everything had fallen silent when the transmission had finally connected, so everyone was listening in now.

"And that was Ironhide." I blinked and sat up. "Those are the aliens."

"Uh-hu." He narrowed his eyes and glared at me. "So why put you on? I said I wanted to talk with an alien, not some kid and his friends off-screen. This prank is over. You've already wasted enough of my time."

"Wait." I objected. I waved the tablet around to show him the interior of Bumblebee's new alt form; some sort of Camaro I think. I have no idea what it looks like on the outside. "Look, that's Bumblebee right now. You're talking with me because they're driving. And we don't have time to stop so they can transform and talk with you themselves. Alright?" I turned it back around to face me.

"There are cars that drive themselves." He was not impressed. "My aunt had one."

"This isn't a self-driving car, this is an alien robot." I insisted. "Right Bee?"

"I'm not a car." He confirmed. "If you really want to see for yourself, we can prove it when we get there."

"I'm an anchor, not a fool. I know when to tell the truth from a lie." He insisted.

"Then you know I'm telling the truth." I blinked and yawned.

"I don't appreciate getting pranked by a kid- a sick kid at that! You think I'm an idiot? I said I wanted to talk with an alien, and I was told I would. Now we all look like idiots and I'm done with this."

"You are." I insisted. "I'm some little version of them that turns into a human instead of a car, apparently. So technically, you are talking to an alien right now."

"It keeps getting better and better." He muttered.

"Seymour," Optimus decided to intervene. "Everything you were lead to believe is true. Samuel is one of us, but he is sick. And we need your help."

"And who are you?" Simmons demanded.

"I am Optimus Prime."

"The leader? Okay, alright then, so tell me where you got those files? Or did you make them up before contacting me?" He crossed his arms.

"We maintain copies of all files of importance from our stay on Earth a century ago. You know we were here before." Optimus pointed out.

"Do I?"

"Yes. We know you already have several classified files on our existence among other artifacts."

There was silence for a moment while he looked me over.

"I want proof. Before I agree to anything, I want to see proof. Talk is cheap." He insisted.

"We aren't doing that again." Bumblebee objected quickly, before anyone could suggest the same proof we gave to my parents.

"Then, like what?" Ironhide questioned. "Last time we had to deal with you, you came after us. Not the other way around. You had all those fancy machines to detect us, we don't exactly have those. And we aren't pulling over."

I yawned.

"Try to stay awake, Sam." Bumblebee got momentarily distracted.

"What's wrong with you?" Simmons nodded to me. "Alien's gotta sleep or what?"

"Samuel's suffering from an energon deficiency and in less than two week's time, his spark will fail from spark-arrest. Reducing the necessary output from both his processors and his spark to sanction recharge would result in a lower resulting output when he comes out." Ratchet explained with strained words. He's probably getting tired of going over it, especially since there's nothing he can do about it.

"English, please?" Simmons looked bored.

"I'm basically starving-slash-rusting to death and having a slow heart attack all at the same time." I smiled humorlessly. "And if I go to sleep, I won't be strong enough be conscious again."

"I see. And somehow I can help with that? Sure, I've got files and artifacts, but if you guys are for real, I don't have anything you don't." He leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"We need a boat." I stated.

"I don't have a boat. I don't even have a house here. I'm staying with some host family the network set me up with." He jabbed a thumb behind him. "Nice old couple, they like American food."

"Can you get a boat?" Bumblebee asked. "In three days, can you have a boat for five vehicles for a thousand-mile trip south?"

"Look, I already said I wasn't agreeing to anything until I seen proof." He put his foot down. "I'm not saying that I can or I can't, I'm just not doing anything until I know for a bonafide fact that I am currently talking to real aliens."

We were silent for a minute, trying to decide on how best to come about this. I knew how, it's on the tip of my tongue. I've got a brilliant idea on how to do it, and it's got to do with something someone said earlier. But I just can't remember what they said or what exactly my idea is. But it's there... Think...

"What's south?" Simmons asked after a minute of silence- and then it hit me. Hit me so hard I got a headrush, but I ignored it as best as I could.

I jerked the tablet up and sat up quickly.

"The story you're covering there. The reason you're in India right now, it's about the malfunctioning technology, isn't it?" I grinned.

"Oh." Bumblebee caught on.

"Yes..." Simmons eyed me cautiously.

"That's what's south." Prowl jumped in on it. "What we're after is on an island south of you, and it knows we're looking for it. So it's sending out interference to nearby cities that would catch our attention. It's interference probably only affects major areas to attract as much attention as possible, like the technology plant there in Nagercoil. But ships that travel closer to it, and islands that are nearer to Diego Garcia go nearly unaffected. Right?"

Something in Simmons's expression changed then.

"It's as alien as we are. We can prove it through the disruption." Prowl insisted.

"How would we do tha-" Ironhide began to object, only to get cut off by the man on the tablet screen.

"Alright."

"You'll help us?" Bumblebee asked, surprised at his sudden change.

"Yeah. You need a ride down there? Then you got one. I'll get you a boat to Diego Garcia in three days." He looked down and reached forward, and the video suddenly cut out.

"What changed his mind?" Ironhide scoffed. "Still didn't prove anything."

"Seymour Simmons is a resourceful reporter with a history in alien conspiracy theories. He already knew the interference was alien, and he probably already knew the name 'Diego Garcia'." Optimus stated. "I've found one of his articles online, but it isn't for his station. He's got a blog."

"Of course." Ratchet verbally rolled his optics.

"What's it called?" Bee questioned.

"RoboWarrior." Optimus answered as if it were hilarious. And their answering laughs gave me the same impression.

"I don't get it." I complained. "Am I missing something?"

"I'm going to see if the 'Real Effing Deal' exists also." Sunstreaker spoke up excitedly.

"It is. It's up and running." Sideswipe was right on his tail. "But, it's only a year old. And, RoboWarrior is only seven years old. There's no trace of their previous addresses."

"Reincarnated blogs now too?" I lowered my head to cradle it again. "You've got to be kidding me..."

"I noticed similar occurances earlier." Optimus mused. "I haven't found any portion of the internet older than fifty-six years. I believe they somehow found a way to wipe it then."

"It's possible, but that would take either years of work, or an incredibly widespread source." Prowl mused. "Who would go through that much trouble?"

I rolled my eyes. "World War III."

... "What?"

"World War III. You know, from 2049 to 2054. United States, France, Britain, Brazil, and Spain against Germany, Russia, Egypt, and Japan. It was mostly through drones and private satellites, with the least amount of casualties of any war previously. But the United State's government was almost completely uprooted from the inside, so Britain set off the world's first internet-bomb, which nearly completely wiped the entire thing out. The second one even messed with like, forty percent of all computers connected to it. It was the Big Boy of viruses."

"And we all thought the third World War would be fought with nuclear weapons." Ironhide mused. "I'm impressed."

I shrugged. Basic history. Every kid can remember the major wars, I was one of the few that remembered the other eras just as well.

Night had fallen by the time we left China through the first border. I honestly can't say how long we were stopped or how we got through without passports- or how they got through without drivers, because I was far too focused on not falling asleep. I was exhausted, and the moon up in the sky looked rather off. Something about it looks off... Only a bit more than half is visible- a waning gibbous -but there's just something about the moon that's bugging me.

"What are you thinking?" Bumblebee asked routinelly. Just to be sure I was still awake.

"The moon..." I muttered, not raising my voice very loud. Sunny and Sides had left long ago, and soon after Bee had just cut the radio completely.

"I'm sure Ron and Judy are doing alright." Bumblebee assured me. "The twins would have hailed us again if something's wrong."

I suddenly felt too embarrassed to tell him I'd forgotten we'd just come from the moon. That's why it looks so different than it had the last time I looked up at it; I just spent several months exploring it's surface and living on it. Mom and Dad are still up there with the twins. Ha, of course. But honestly, it doesn't seem like anything had existed since I first raised my head while sitting in this cabin and stared out the windshield at the oncoming road.

"And we've still got eleven days." He reminded me. "But at most, you'll have to stay awake five more."

"Five." I moaned, certain I wouldn't last. I'm exhausted.

"You can make it. Your systems are built to last much longer without recharging during emergencies. You can make it five days."

"And what if it takes longer?" I demanded, mortified at the idea of staying up that long. I don't want to, I want to sleep.

"Then you can take a nap."

"Ratchet won't like that." I mused, defeated.

"I don't care. Because we'd only loose another day at most, and I know it won't take ten days to do this."

"So I can sleep in five days?" I yawned, then shook my head violently to give myself another headache.

"I swear it."

I smiled and leaned forward to get a better look at the stars and moon.

"Good."

Closing comments... was it worth the wait? Little more tension, things are moving along nicely, and my big question this time is, do you think I'm getting Sam in good character here? He's a teenager, sure, that's the pop-culture stereotype pressganged onto him that he's sort of been molded into, but (not so) deep down, he's a very young sparkling. Does he kind of sound like a tired, hungry, cranky toddler with the mental capacity of a teenager? Or does he just sound annoying? Are they really so different?

Oh well. R&R. I'm writing the next chapter ASAP in further celebration of the end of High School.