Just Prime
They waited until Sam was deep in sleep before Prima eased his way into the man's mind. There was no shifting or transforming, no forcing the sleeper to a world of their choosing. There had been no need for that for many years. And there was no need to trouble their youngest Prime with trivial matters like this.
Instead they slipped into the deeper subconscious, willing sparks of belief through organic transmitters. It was surprisingly simple to upgrade the organic body. All it needed was the right push and-
The world burst into light, and Prima yelped in shock as solid ground formed under his feet.
The simple darkness of the mind was gone, replaced by their own limbo, and he felt the presence of his brothers shifting behind him as he took a good look at his arm - trapped in ceramic jar of some kind with the word 'COOKIE' emblazed on it.
Light footsteps came from nowhere, and a man who barely looked out of his mid-twenties came into view. He was smirking (although his eyes betrayed a deeper anger) and waved one finger at them.
"Finally caught you in the act" Sam said. "I'm fairly certain we talked about what would happen if I caught you doing this. Frequently, and at length."
Prima sighed, and the jar vanished as he stepped forward.
"We have, but we cannot understand your reluctance on this matter. What we are doing is not harmful, and well within your rights to have. It would be a waste to have you offline so soon."
"Yes" Sam agreed. "And as I've said before, it's well within my rights not to stay young and fresh for the next 200 years. Mikaela's already getting jibes about robbing the cradle as is, so you're gonna stop it now, and as a compromise, I won't undo what you did the last god-knows-how-many-times."
"Undo?" Prima asked, disbelief in his voice. "You cannot change your very subconscious. That is beyond anyone's ability."
Sam raised an eyebrow.
"Haven't we learned by now that telling me what I can and can't do isn't a productive use of our time?"
"We do this for your own good," Prima stressed, and Sam glared right back.
"You've ran over pretty much every opinion I've had in the last 20 years. But I'm putting my foot down. Get. Out."
His aura had made Decepticons step back, his expression cowed every Member of Parliament in the developed world, but it had never quite worked on the Primes. When Prima sighed, his face sculpting into an expression one would wear while explained something to a child, an expression Sam knew well, he snapped.
He snapped his fingers, and the Primes jerked as the ground around them vanished, and their bodies froze. The world returned to the dark subconscious, and from behind them there was a rumbling, a freight train powered by a tornado. In front of them, Sam stood firm, and the darkness began to light up, little sparks flowing around the mind. Pulling, undoing, rectifying...
"I'm not just a Prime, brothers," Sam said. "I'm human, and that throws your rulebook right out the window."
The tornado train hit them, throwing their minds out and back into their limbo, Sam's eyes sparking with blue the last thing they saw.
'We're done here.'
Considering how out of their depth the human 'volunteers' were at building Cybertronian buildings, Optimus was genuinely elated at how smoothly construction work was coming. The mechs and humans had had a few interesting arguments, but by and large, the two races seemed to be working well together.
Amazing, how many fears could vanish in a mere two decades...
After his triumph with Grimlock's "debut", Sam had not only come into his own, but had done so with a flair that left even those who had believed in him in awe. While world governments ran around trying to collect themselves, and trying to convince everyone involved to keep a low profile, Sam ran interference, while secretly handing Bumblebee a schedule of appearances for mechs to make all over the globe. The government wanted a cover up. Sam didn't.
Not two days after the Autobots had become common knowledge, America had turned on their TV's to find Skids and Mudflap on Oprah. A major newspaper was running a double page spread on Sideswipe, whose publicity photos that had to have been taken months in advance, and a British motoring show had found itself a guest in Blurr. His interview had become the stuff of legends.
When put with the subtle saturation of Sam's 'Easter eggs' of the years before, nobody panicked. Instead, the world seemed to breathe a collective sigh of 'I knew it!' before carrying on with their business.
The world leaders had assumed chaos and possible war would breakout over the mechs' discovery, one that would take years to rebuild afterward. In six months, Sam had them fully integrated into people's minds and then turned his head back to politics.
He was their ambassador – and no matter how much the 180,000 applicants that applied for the job daily might complain, that wasn't changing. While the mechs that weren't on guard against the Decepticons made themselves a regular sight in cities and public events, Sam dove into the quagmire of diplomacy, with goals that only those called Prime knew fully. Now that the world knew about them, he didn't want Cybertronians running around like refugees, completely at the whim of the military – he wanted a city for them, a state, a country. Somewhere they could completely call 'home.'
Needless to say, the United Nations refused…but he'd rather figured they would. So he had a secret "plan B" ready to go. He was determined the Autobots would be able to live independently.
Optimus could only wish that Jazz had been able to see Sam's solution to the problem – the mech would have no doubt laughed himself silly at the notion of Autobots and Decepticons becoming a toyline of all things. And yet, the ridiculously simple things had exploded in popularity, resulting in a franchise that made Sam millions. Millions that he never touched, instead investing it for a future still down the line, and began fighting for the Autobots to become recognized citizens of Earth.
He and Mikaela had broken up and reconciled more times than anyone cared to count in that time. Sam barely remembered to eat and sleep while flying around the world, arguing on vid-conferences before attending meetings, trying to justify the Autobots existence. He made enemies throughout the world, especially among the religious. Optimus had never been more grateful for Sam's telekinesis than the day's extremists tried to get too close. Sam would have been dead 5 times over if it wasn't for that ability - the Primes' words of caution were always ringing in his head every time it happened.
These acts hadn't kept Sam out of the spotlight either. But when Megatron and his troops had attacked the 2024 Olympic Games – trying to make a statement, or just to re-instil fear into the hearts of organics, cameras around the world had seen the man in a well dressed suit and hair that little too curly to tame walk out towards them...and send them shooting back into the sky.
Everyone 'not in the know' had assumed it was some unknown Autobot tech that had been used as a safety measure. But the calm, confident look on his face while taking on the biggest threat to Earth had been enough to get him the same status as a Hollywood movie star. He was smart, rich, attractive enough by human standards, and he had a sense of humour. It was a package that resulted in 2 motion pictures, a good 3 dozen books (only 2 of which the man actually endorsed), a TV show and a thousand childhood dreams.
He'd married Mikaela that year, Optimus remembered. Bumblebee had been the best man, and despite Sam rarely being at home, Mikaela gave birth to a baby boy just before Christmas.
After nearly 20 years of hard work, though, Sam had pulled it off. With the public behind him, and mechs who had been nothing but polite, media darlings (with the exception of one incident involving Wheeljack being banned from setting foot in Korea which was best left unmentioned), the Autobots were officially recognised as citizens of Earth. All they needed now was a permanent place to stay.
Two months later, and their funds considerably depleted, Optimus had found himself standing in an expanse in South America with the right to build.
The Atacama Desert. Over 40,000 square miles desolate land with almost no population, human or animal and one road running through it. For humans it was most inhospitable. For mechs, it was the perfect place to rebuild to scale. In less than a year, the city would be habitable, and, for the first time in thousands of years, Cybertronians would finally have a home.
The sound of an elegantly tuned engine turned his head, and he watched the latest Bugatti model drive up the tarmac and into the construction site. Very few cars could handle a few metres in the sandy dust without gaining essentially an extra paint job, and Optimus sorely wished he knew how Mirage and Sideswipe did it.
The Bugatti rolled to a dignified stop, and Optimus half stepped back as the door opened, allowing Sam to step out. He said something to Mirage that Optimus didn't quite catch, and waved goodbye as the spy rolled into the compound.
"Where's Bumblebee?" Optimus asked, noting the lack of yellow tagalong, to which Sam grinned.
"Last I checked, he was making peek-a-boo faces at Daniel," he replied. "I swear he's worse than my mother sometimes. Mirage was doing one of his 'History of Cybertron' lectures in town and offered me a lift.
Optimus smiled, kneeling down to get a better view. Soon he wouldn't have to – the city was being built with 'human' walkways along buildings to that conversations would no longer feel so awkward, but after so many years it had become custom for the two of them. He frowned when he took in the new details – It had been a few weeks since he'd last seen his human brother, but he appeared to have aged far more in the last few days than he had in years. Faint traces of wrinkles he had seen on NEST soldiers were beginning to crop up.
"Are you alright Sam?" he asked, slightly worried the man was overworking himself. "You did call rather unexpectedly."
Sam shrugged and grinned. "Yes and no. Let's just say something happened that was a long time coming. And I have something that belongs to you."
From his bag, he pulled out the Matrix.
"They've done all they can for me now," Sam said. "Time you got your inheritance."
"Sam," Optimus began, only to be cut off.
"Ah ah, knowledge? I've got. Power? I've definitely got. A strong working relationship with both my species? Working on it. Anything else they've tried to offer is optional and going straight in the 'not a chance in hell' pile. But, since they don't believe I have the 'maturity' to make that decision, I'm being a stubborn little brat and just saying no."
He smirked, and tossed the priceless artefact in the air, Optimus catching it instinctively.
"Besides, after 20 years, I figure it's time for you to have some headaches."
"Are you sure?" Optimus asked, rather hesitant, to which Sam just continued to smile.
"Look at it this way, Optimus. I've mastered keeping them out of my head now. They're not getting back in. Whether they want to admit it or not, I've won this fight. There is nothing else they can give, that I want to have. Nothing I need to have anyway. And if they get too annoying for you, I'll show you some tricks to put them in their place."
He threw a half wave at the Prime and headed over to the growing city. "So gonna give me the tour? Come on a long way since I was last here. Finally get those last little bugs sorted out?"
Optimus smiled, and tucked the Matrix away as he followed.
"Why don't I show you?"
To be continued...
One chapter to go!