Sam once remembered reading a book assigned to him during his not-so-wondrous high school years.
"No matter how bad things are, you can always make things worse." - The Last Lecture
The quote had seemed so arbitrary at the time. One of those cheesy lines people spouted whimsically. But, for some reason, the quote stuck to him now like a curse that festered worriedly in the mind (or in this case the processor).
And it seemed Sam was indeed fated to feel the brute force of the meaning worse.
Sam had been struggling with the constant doubt and fear that plagued him every cycle. Bee was in a coma, Bee was dying, and while Sam knew Bee would survive to see the future Sam had once lived in, he did not know if his sudden appearance on Cybertron had somehow altered the past to change Bee's survival rate.
And this was the problem that plagued Sam since the beginning of his existence.
He never seemed to know when it was his fate to intervene, or his fate to stay back and watch. So Sam did what he always did: worry and distract himself endlessly. His days consisted of working in the departments, finishing the capsule and finally the launcher that was, admittedly, much smaller than the normal hardware Cybertronians were used to. The launcher was built with a similar build to the larger, more common builds of other space launching pads that brought bots in and out daily from Cybertron's atmosphere. Circular in shape, and revolving with a whirring noise each time it was powered on, the machine was truly a sleek paradigm of Autobot tech, and a true masterpiece of the best processors they had to offer. Both Arcee and Wheeljack had proclaimed it to be finished, yet Sam had persisted that they continue optimizing the structure for maximum power only for Wheeljack to place a kind servo on his shoulder.
"There comes a point when your efforts are no longer worth the reward," the mech had said calmly before adding. "Go visit Bee."
Thus, Sam had lost one distraction and replaced it with another. The rest of Sam's cycles were left with him helping Ratchet in the med bay and watching over Bee with a worried glance every few nanoseconds to the point that Ratchet had demanded he either sit glued to the berth or leave. Nonetheless, Sam decided to sit.
Through this time, Ratchet had dragged out an old chess board (the Cybertronian version of it anyway) to see the light of day for the first time in what he believed to be vorns. The medic only admitting that the game had belonged to the previous CMO before he had offlined in a sudden and dramatic flare that Sam had not bothered to remember. And so it was with some reluctance to tinker with a dead bot's possessions that Sam had spent the next few cycles playing the game. Yet few bots had the time nor knowledge of the game, and so Sam was left to play at his own devices alone. But, even then, he could sometimes feel the barest hint of Alpha Trion's presence, and so came the distraction of the game Sam had once played so long ago when the evil temptations of his fate had seemed not so clear.
But the distraction was nothing but a constant reminder that Bee's life teetered as quickly and as simply as flipping the switch to a room. So when Optimus came to request Sam's presence, Sam did not question the well needed diversion. If only it had been that easy because, of course, nothing was.
"What's wrong?" Sam had asked immediately once the two had separated themselves from the rest of the base. The two taking an emptied section of the East wing where few had the knowledge to look for a Prime. Usually Optimus would be far to busy to simply talk, and now Sam had gotten used to the other's presence being meant for dire situations rather than the casual friendly "hang out" of what it used to be.
Sadly, it seemed, that this was once again one of those desperate times.
"I know your busy, but I …" There was a pause and then, "I just wanted some down time."
Sam frowned. Sure he was not in optimal condition with the constant misfortune that surrounded him, but he was not dumb either. "Optimus Prime. Tell me what's wrong."
"Ante, it is nothing-"
"I won't leave until you do."
The two stared blatantly at each other for a long moment. So long in fact that Sam had already memorized every detail, every metal crevice, lighted charge, and the slight swirl of colors that came from the Prime's optics. Perhaps Optimus had done the same for Sam as well.
There was a long pause, a sigh, and then a gradual sag of defeat from Optimus' side as the taller mech seemed to shrink inward, a movement that the Prime would never dare let his soldiers see. It then came out as a slight mumble as if Optimus didn't want to admit the truth, fearful that everything would be set in stone if he admitted it, but still forced it out in a harsh whisper, raspy on the glossa as well as the audio receptors. The weight of the realization was heavy, tangible, and hung thickly in the air like stagnant miasma.
"He's gone."
For a brief nanosecond Sam's processor had jumped to the idea of Bumblebee that he had just seen mere kliks before but then paused with hesitation over the fact. No, it was someone else. Who then?
"Sentinel Prime is gone," Optimus continued, either oblivious or ignorant to Sam's sudden shock.
But how? Sam could only pause in stupor at the revelation. The Autobot's main base of operations, although filled with hard, grizzled soldiers and the most esteemed scientific minds that did not believe or bother with the rumor mill still had its fair share of meddlesome rumors that floated aimlessly through the halls. Surely some bot would have caught on to this single piece of information? Surely someone would have leaked out the news. Surely Sam would have heard about it before now?
But after another pregnant pause, Sam came to the conclusion that no, he would not. It was a Prime they were speaking of. A highly esteemed bot of supreme power revered by his constituents in an almost god like reverence. The bots closest to Sentinel, Optimus, soldiers, and council alike, would have kept this a highly guarded secret so as to not entice sudden panic, and furthermore, had the leak been released, it would have been pushed aside as a mere publicity stunt by some fool rather than fact. Only a lunatic would believe a Prime was dead or dare to breath the thought unless it came from the mouth of a credibly source.
And that source was Optimus Prime.
The realization was slow and weighed heavily upon Sam's processor as he turned to watch the emotions of sadness and fear flit across the other's optics. Sam may not have known Sentinel well, nor would he ever as their moments on Earth were only brief encounters, but that didn't mean Sam knew the close connection at which Prime's held each other. The loss was clearly evident as Optimus remained hunkered down as if trying to avoid the prying and accusing eyes of the world. As if it was his fault.
Optimus would become the new Prime, the only Prime. While before he was in a moment of transition between the two worlds, the norm and the power, now he was being kicked into the true meaning of being a leader. The matrix of leadership would be forced upon him. He would, finally, lose every last piece of himself that made him him and would devote his entire existence to the Allspark, the very thing Sam had worked so hard to ignore. Optimus would have to tell the world. He would have to stand against the council alone, mourn over his mentor's death silently, and take the burden of being an Autobot leader with no support. Yet here he was, a pillar not allowed to bow down, standing before Sam with nothing but a crumbled mask of fear.
Sam grieved for him.
Optimus was not ready. Sam could feel the doubt that infested the other's mind and invaded his emotions. Optimus had yet to learn how to hide his weaknesses, and now Sam could literally feel the fear. But there were no words of comfort he could provide.
There was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing. Because this was Optimus Prime's fate, his duty, and Sam could not protect him from his own destiny just as Optimus could not save Sam from his own. No. They could only watch as each other fell to the whims of the Allspark and the world's cold hearted needs.
So instead, Sam hugged Optimus. Physical contact among bots were unnecessary and rare, but if there was anything Sam learned of Orion Pax it was that the older mech craved contact like an addiction. So Sam held the other tight and said nothing.
Two cycles later, Optimus left with the High Council to receive his dead mentor's final gift: the matrix. He would be gone for a long time, and he would return weighed down more than ever. So Sam told the other nothing about his own fears, how Sam was dying, or how the world was spiraling downward faster and faster to the world of destruction Sam had tried so long to defend it from. Sam said nothing and took the burden himself.
Sam would later find himself staring at the chess board again, reminiscing over the meaning, the weight, of each piece. He wondered about the future, pondered over the existence of his own life, and then … let the slow dread creep into his spark. Cybertron was now one step closer to falling into permanent shadows.
By the third cycle Optimus was gone, Bee awoke with a sudden flurry of sporadic movements, optics alighted with pain and fear. Sam was by his side immediately while calling out for Ratchet who had fallen into an offlined slumber during the lunar cycle, audio receptors still on in case of emergencies which allowed the CMO to shed the last bits of exhaustion and awaken with a start.
But before Ratchet could begin to assess the damage, Bee was already calming down. Only the sound of shuttering optics trying to analyze the situation was heard as Sam's breathing evened out. "Bee?" Sam asked worriedly. The other took a while to process the words, the voice. The said bot then turned towards Sam slowly before his optics shuttered in fear.
"Ante," he rasped out. "They're coming! Megatron's coming!"
AN- So, admittedly, some details about Sentinel Prime are off as we all know he is still alive, but let's just assume everyone thinks he's dead at this point... Plus he is in stasis lock so … hypothetically speaking … Anyway, I have not reread this chapter, so if there are mistakes, please bear with me. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Your continuous support has encouraged me! Also, another side note, the Last Lecture is a great book. If you have the time, read it. You won't regret it.