Part Ten:

Epilogue:

Dreams Made from Plastic

Three Months Later:

There was an applause again, there was cheering, there were cries, and then there was the kiss.

There were bells, ringing out for all the city to hear.

There was a white dress, perfect, beautiful, billowing out in the wind. There were her eyes, glittering out in the sun, calling for him, with a perfect smile on her face, one that framed everything he'd ever known.

There were the flowers, as she ran ahead of him, always the playing rebel, not waiting for him to catch up with her as they ran out of the church. He laughed, one of the few he'd managed in the last three months.

She was running out to the white car waiting for them, ahead of all the people pilling up outside of the church, flingling small petals of roses, lillies, rosemary, anything pretty they could grab their fingers on. He ran down the steps, watching her, seeing how this angel managed to become his.

Once she reached the car, she beckoned for him. Hurry.

There was no hurry, now that all was said and done.

He touched her hand when he caught up with her, and was about to lean in and kiss her, when she turned away from him with a mischievous grin on her face. No. Not yet.

He felt a small pang in his chest, but he ignored it, as she clambered into the car, once again, beckoning him to follow. Suddenly, there was a push from behind, and he fell into the car. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Lennox, beaming at him. Just you wait.

He watched, a little dazed, wondering what was going on, a little hurt, wondering what was about to take place. She touched his hand, and he swerved in her direction, only to feel her breath on his cheek. He closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet smell of her perfume, lost in her, but then was snaped out of it, when she called to the driver. Ready, let's go.

Go where? They were going to the hotel, right? He looked at her, but the only hint she was giving was that playful smile, one that said, there's trouble around the corner. What trouble?

He was confused. He knew it had been three months since he'd seen them: three months he'd had to get over it all. They literally disappeared off the face of the planet: gone to the place behind the moon. There was no communication with them, and he knew they were busy trying to bring back what they thought they'd lost.

The scars were still visible, and they would be for the rest of his life. They protruded from his skin, in ugly, unwanted scrawls, dragging down the length of his body, and he hated them. But she didn't care. She wanted to be with him. Always. She touched them every night, whispered how much she cared, and that they didn't matter.

It was enough for him. More than enough to say, "Will you marry me?"

They were a reminder, a perfect reminder of what he'd done to bring it all back. In a way, it showed what happened to him was real. None of those memories were fake. They were all his. Theirs. Ours, he thought, clasping her hand tightly, looking out the window, curiously.

Wait a second. Where were they going?

He looked at her worriedly, then at the driver. This wasn't the way to the hotel. They took the wrong turn.

As he was about to voice his thoughts, she squeezed his hand, and he looked to her.

She shook her head. No.

They were heading to the beach. Why were they-?

What was going on?

A surprise. Just you wait.

His heart beat faster. He didn't like surprises all that much since three months ago. There were times when he had those nightmares, taking ahold of his system and engulfing him in a sea of death. He remembered all those bodies he saw in his mind, every face, every mangled body, every pair of eyes staring straight at him, and he shuddered inwardly. He helped Lennox in the end, and it went on for weeks, recongnising bodies of people long since dismembered and fragmented by the Chicago Stand Off. That's what they called it. The Chicago Stand Off.

It's okay. Don't be afraid. No need for that sad face.

She was trying to please him. He smiled sadly at her, then realised his mistake. He shouldn't be sad. This was meant to be the happiest day of his life. This is the happiest day of my life, he corrected and forced a better smile, this time more reassured. He wasn't going to be sad. He wasn't.

They were turning off at the exit for the beach. Why, he had no idea….

Until he saw the tents, creamy white and gleaming in the sunlight, tall and proud. There were three of them, each taking up large parts of the beach. He nearly blanched when he saw it, nearly toppled from where he was sitting. They weren't going to the hotel, because she didn't book it? They were having the reception at the beach? He gasped in surprise, and looked back to her, this time smiling at her genius. She giggled at the expression of her face, and when he looked back, they were closer, and he could see his friends and family, who must have high tailed it out of the church when they left.

How did they get here so fast?

They got out, and she ushered him on, taking his hand, smiling, this time giddy with excitement. Everyone was cheering, but he was so taken with her face, glittering with so much happiness, that he couldn't supress his own smile any longer. There it was, as she lead him by the hand, pulling him closer to her, enveloping him in a warm embrace, and he was surrounded by everyone, and-

"I know you missed them, Sam," she whispered, and he looked at her seriously, and she stared seriously back.

There was the sound of engines revving, but he couldn't take it in. He was watching her, who was watching him back, and she was smiling and before he knew it, she finally kissed him on the lips, sweetly, but firmly, wanting to feel that he was not stuck in the clouds. Now was time to feel nothing but blissful, for the times they had, and the times they would always share. Her heartbeat was close to his chest, and he felt it pounding as she stepped away. His arms were still held up, hands still outstretched, wanting more of her, until he saw them, their shadows over him, and he looked up, slowly at first, wondering if he had lost his mind.

Yellow and black plates.

Bumblebee?

He didn't even have time to say his name, as he was taken up in the cryching, metallic grip of his Guardian, lost in the hold meant only for him. He was being held tightly by someone he never thought he'd never see again, and he could hear the whirring of engines, of Bumblebee's spark below his ear, and he knew, he just knew he couldn't make this all up, it was too real, way too real, and-

"Bumblebee?" he whispered, feeling his voice was found again. He didn't realise he was crying. He didn't even feel the smile spread over his lips, so effortless it was. "Bumblebee?" He kept saying his name, feeling the familiarity slip over him, and losing himself to the joyous thoughts of being reunited.

"I missed you too, Sam." His voice. The voice of his best friend. The voice that was returned to him three months ago. It had deepened slightly, but it was there.

"It's good to see you, buddy," Sam smiled through tears. "Welcome home."

"It's good to be back, Sam. It's good to be home." There was emotion there, and then there were shouts. Happiness washed over everyone, and everyone cheered, including Carly Witwicky, who clapped away with them, seeing Sam smile for the first time in three months.

Lennox looked up to Optimus, and felt like an old man. Optimus looked down to his partner, and cracked a smile. "Welcome home," Lennox echoed off Sam's lips, and it was something that couldn't be controlled, this infectious laughter that got ahold of all of them, and against his manly wishes, Optimus chuckled.

Beside him, he felt Annabelle let go of his fingers, but even he knew where she'd end up. Ironhide crouched down and picked up the little bundle, even smaller than Sam, and twirled her high up in the air, careful incase she should scream out of fright, but there were none. She was happy, chuckling as she saw the Autobot who was not daddy, but was at the same time.

Rachet watched Ironhide and rolled his eyes. The second in command had grown a father complex. Great. Epps stood beside him, and smield as he saw that the Autobot was the only one not laughing along. Jeez. He knocked on the Autobot's foot, and Rachet looked down. "Seriously, dude, if you even try to look that depressed, on this day of all days, I will kill you," Epps couldn't keep the serious smirk on his face, and Rachet sighed, crossing his arms.

"I would love to see you try," he replied. Epps chuckled.

Skids and Mudflap had found their way to the buffet, and were quarrelling over who got what, before Skids turned and saw the celebration.

"Do ya think Optimus would let us stay?" he asked, a plate in one hand, full to the brim with something that tasted like liquor.

"I don' know, bu' I hope so, 'cause Cybertron has enough Autobots to keep it goin' for years and years and years! Could you believe it when we saw all those Autobots?"

"Yeah, and when I hears they swarmed over to Cybertron the moment they saw the lights blindin' them three months ago, I was more than shocked! Sam brought them theres, and I don' think he even knows it! He was right when he said it to's us: he really is a Messenger!"

Bumblebee rumbled out a song from his radio and Sam laughed, recalling all those times when he had to use it to speak.

"Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There's always one reason"

Sam stopped laughing, and listened to the voice, the voice he knew so well. And for the first time in three months, he heard it, the sound of wings beating, her voice calling out to him, the voice of the angel singing for all of them.

"It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

He listened, and then remembered what she once said-

"There is a couple of other things I have to tie up, you know. I might come visit you, in the human world, of course."

"In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie"

She was here, watching over all of them, just like she was supposed to.

He looked over his shoulder, ignoring the questions and asking faces. And there she was, over one of the mounds, waving to him. She was human, her small, child-like body sitting on the sand, arms around her knees, golden white hair playing with the soft folds of her white dress, red eyes seeing the events that have played out many times in her mind.

She was happy to see this, she was ecstatic to be here. He could see those invisible wings, stretching high above her, longing to fly, yet waiting patiently for her to give an order. Feathers danced around her, and in the slight breeze of the beach, they were floating toward all of them.

"It's been a while. Messenger," she whispered, letting the air carry her words to his ears.

And he heard them, closing his eyes, smiling against the chest plates of Bumblebee, who touched his charge's head, listening to the words carried by the angel.

"Messenger."

Finis

A/N: This is PassionandPromise signing off on this!

I do hope y'all don't mind me uploading all of this in such a rush, I know I could've created a little more suspense with some of the chapters, but I prefer having the story, rather than not getting to upload them at all!

Thank you for everything, for all the reviews you've given me, and all the comments you've shown me! I hope you continue to look over me while I write more about Bee and Sam, and the world of Transformers...

xoxoxoxox