Opening Note: This is the chapter that I know you've all been waiting for . . . And warning, this chapter will contain a lot of cussing.

.o.

"H-hold on Mikaela . . . I think I found a piece of the AllSpark sliver in my old hoodie."

"What?"

That was the last thing he remembered before a lifetime of glyphs, symbols, memories and a world full of history maxed out all the processing space in his mind. Hissing in pain, he dropped the sliver, which promptly burned through the floor.

His Dad was gonna kill him. "Fire! Dad, fire! Bring the extinguisher!"

It took a minute before he realized that his Dad's voice was arguing in the driveway with his mother. So he poured water down the hole in the floor, hoping that he wouldn't be too badly off after this that he would still be able to go to college. Running to the door, he opened it and looked down.

No intelligence. No real life. Just malevolent force. Subtle Decepticon programming.

What?

Then the kitchen started shooting at him.

Shrieking, he somehow managed to get out of his window and jump off of the deck roofing into the backyard. His mind still whirled, symbols and glyphs and pictures of a metal world spinning and causing his balance to tumble and fail. The only thing on his mind was that if they didn't take out the drones, the real drones, things that had Decepticon coding printed clearly in every line of their forms, that they were gonna kill him.

"BUMBLEBEE!"

.o.

The remains of the kitchen and some of the siding littered the lawn, and his mother made him want to crawl into a hole and die. Sam shuffled towards the tarped-off garage with Kaela in tow to see Bumblebee knocking himself in the face.

"He still having voice problems?"

Nope. Sam knew the signs. Bee had gotten something stuck under a piece of armor, and his fingers were too big to get it out without prying the entire piece of armor out. "Yeah, he's playing it up."

That got him a thinly-veiled dirty look that was ruined by either a pebble or a bug of some sort falling out from under the Autobot insignia.

Sam . . . was going to regret today. He was going to regret it really, really badly.

.o.

:Sir, requesting permission to detour before I join you at NEST? You have my official report about the drones.:

:Granted. Bee, what's wrong?:

:Sam. Situation. Just . . . everything.:

:Elita's on the ranch with Chromia, if you wish to visit them.:

:I know. But . . . I need something to distract me, not something to help me wallow and to wrap me up in felt until I suffocate.:

:Give your 'mother' some credit, Bumblebee. She's kicked my aft out of brooding more times than I care to remember.:

:You're her mate; I'm her child.:

:You do have a point. Prowl wishes to have someone up in Massachusetts to evaluate the Sparkling twins, and you're suddenly free. Would you like to go?:

:Couldn't hurt. It'll give me something to distract myself.:

:And you'll be decently close to Sam, should he need anything.: Optimus paused, then asked cautiously, :Are you hoping to see someone else while you're there?:

The click of the com-link shutting off rudely caused the leader to chuckle and mentally shake his head as they returned from the disaster of an operation in Shanghai. When Will asked him what was going on, a door opened, the man climbed in, and within moments, was snickering and working with Optimus about a betting pool as to when Bumblebee and Barricade would reignite their romance. Those who knew about the undercover Autobot (which was most of the Autobot troops on Earth and the few humans allowed around the Sparklings) knew that he was currently enjoying hiding out in Berkshire County, Massachusetts.

But even as the friends laughed, Lennox took a pause and spoke softly to the Autobot leader. "Bee's a tough guy, but his emotions are bigger than his Spark. It's why he and Sam get along so well. Give him time to recuperate and rest from completing this assignment, give him the space he needs, and he'll be fine."

"Thank you, Will."

"Anytime. Can't have you brooding and moping over your kid and how you can't be there for him."

"Isn't there a saying that humans use? Ah yes, 'pot, meet kettle'."

Snickering, Will opened the door and moved to strap himself in for the landing.

Things just seemed to go to hell from there. Epps was still grumpy about getting shot at by Decepticons. Optimus was feeling decidedly broody. Ratchet was pissed. Idiot Twins were trying to claim that they were the best-looking things on the face of the planet. "Sideswipe" was about set to trounce them . . . the only calm and normal ones were Lennox, Arcee and, oddly, Ironhide.

Optimus didn't bother to transform as he rolled into the hangar. He was annoyed at Sam, frustrated at the warning about some Fallen, half-tempted to go sulk somewhere until he was calm enough to delve into the memories of the Primes Past and see what came up with the query of what the Fallen was. Something just seemed to niggle at the back of his processor, and he recognized the touch of his Matrix, but he heard the sound of the debriefing starting, and of course, he couldn't miss that.

Ten minutes later, he wished he had ignored the call.

.o.

Shit. Shit shit shit, this couldn't be happening to him. Sam stared in shock at the screens before him, knowing full well that what he was seeing was (or should be) classified material, and that if the military found out that he was sharing a room with hackers and conspiracy theorists who could (and apparently did) get into servers that weren't supposed to be accessed . . .

Lennox would have a shit-fit.

And as if his parents hadn't embarrassed himself enough already.

"So . . . your Mom really liked those special brownies, huh?" Leo snickered, looking up at the posters of beautiful ladies and sci-fi movies visisble through the doorway.

Sam didn't bother answering as he continued his "education" about what they knew (or theorized) regarding the whole alien invasion. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "So you're saying that these aliens have been here for how long?"

"Really active since Mission City two years ago, and there's been notes that they've been on the planet since probably around the Egyptians. Who knows. But they're here, man. You can't lie or keep this truth off of the internet!"

Ho, boy, was Sam giving a call to Lennox tonight.

Fortunately, he got a call before anyone could get into anything more, and he picked up immediately. "Will! Hey, bro, how're you doing?"

"Tell your brother about the aliens, man!" Fassbinder said quickly.

"Spread the truth!" Leo added on.

Sharsky glanced up, then went back to programming.

". . . what aliens?" Major Lennox asked, his voice filled with steel.

"Iunno, some conspiracy theory that my roomies are smoking."

Protests rose in concert as he ducked out of his rooms and outside to the darkened campus lawn. "Oh my God, Lennox, they're worse than Simmons. There's three of them. And they've gotta been hacking into places to get their info."

"First off, learn how to speak English right. Second off, what's their site?"

"The Real Effing Deal dot com."

"Oh. Them."

"You know about them?"

"Yeah, they're a pain in the ass, but relatively harmless. They don't have any real footage and we make sure it stays that way. Simmons is more of a problem, but whatever." He shifted gears, and it was clear to hear it in his voice. "Now just what the hell did you say to Bee?"

Sam sat heavily upon the stairs and ran his hand through tousled hair. "Shit."

"That's right, shit. Because when I get a call from his Dad saying that he's sounding like he wants to crawl into a hole and stay there for a while, which he is going to do until he feels ready to get back onto the active-duty list, I get the feeling that it has to do something with you."

"Look, Lennox, I just want a normal life, all right? I didn't ask for any of this, and everyone who keeps asking for more is just gonna get the same answer!"

"I didn't ask to see what happened in Qatar, and I didn't ask to be a part of this either, kid, so don't give me that argument."

"But you're a soldier, you're trained for this stuff!"

"I'm trained to keep my ass above ground, not six feet under. And I'm trained to try to keep my men alive, but it doesn't happen like that!"

Sam was just digging his grave deeper. They'd lost people on NEST recently, and he hoped that it wasn't anyone that he knew from over the summer. "I'm sorry, Lennox."

"Damn right, you're sorry! And you'd better apologize to Bee, too!"

"I will. I just want some space, all right? Is that too much to ask?"

"You got a week so far."

"Yeah, and I'd like some more space to get used to college."

There was silence for a beat, and the Ranger replied, "Fine. But send a text before you pass out each night telling us that you're still alive."

"Dammit, Lennox—" Sam started.

"Don't you argue with me. You don't want a bodyguard, you get to pick up his responsibilities of telling us that you're still alive and relatively untouched. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Good. Go apologize to him. Then text me before you get to sleep. You start your responsibilities tonight."

Click.

Staring at the dead line in his hand, Sam sighed and looked up at the sky before standing and ambling his way back in to deal with his crazy roommates.

He never saw who was watching him from the shadows.

.o.

"What do you mean, the Shard was stolen?" Lennox roared over the com, running out of his shared room with Epps. They met up with Ironhide, not stopping to get in, just grabbing onto the bed of his alt-mode and swinging up on practiced maneuvers. "That was a secured vault!"

"Well it got stolen!" came the just-as-angry reply. "We suspect Con activity!"

"No shit, really?" Lennox replied sarcastically. "Get me all video feeds of that bunker, inside and out, and have them ready for Prime when he gets there!"

"We haven't heard of him since he stormed out earlier!" the man on the other end replied frantically.

"Ratchet, go find him!"

"Already on it," the CMO replied evenly, probably between breaths of chewing their already-irate leader out. He and Ironhide were clearly the "mentors" to the younger Autobots.

"Arcee, Sideswipe, get everyone ready for transport!" Hearing their affirmatives, he looked to Epps and asked over the wind, "Ironhide? Thoughts?"

The engine roared and the mech's voice sounded no different than his block. "Time to kill us some 'Cons."

.o.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, half under his breath as he turned away from the pissed-off blonde that had tried to seduce his brains out. She was, well, creepy didn't even begin to describe it, and the fact that she had been watching him since the moment he saw her . . . yeah, not cool. Stalkerish. The fact that he just drew some freaky-looking Cybertronian glyphs in the icing of the cake was freaking him out enough. Now his car stalks him down and the chick with the hot body whose very presence made all the hair on his body stand to attention in all the wrong ways starts sitting in his lap . . . his day was really starting to suck more than his first day on campus and his Mom eating the hash-brownies.

But crap. He hadn't expected to see Bumblebee at all, and he hadn't even gotten to offer his apology after two days. He just didn't know how to say it.

There was a half-stutter of the engine before it caught pace again in an almost-sullen manner. Sighing, getting back into the driver's seat, Sam pretended to drive as Bumblebee said softly, "Optimus is on the mainland. He needs to speak to you."

"Gawd, Bee . . ."

"Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't be here unless it was ordered."

The bitterness in the mech's voice caused Sam to throw his head back against the headrest before wincing and remembering, once again, that his car was alive. "Look, I'm sorry. I just . . . I want a normal life."

He keeps repeating it like a mantra, like it's the only thing that matters.

Shaking his head at the random thought that didn't feel like it was really his, Sam sighed. "Bumblebee, I'm really sorry. I really am. Freshman can't have cars, and I don't want you to wind up looking suspicious hanging around in some alleyway. You can have a purpose with NEST again. I know that you missed doing some of the missions."

"Sam, have I ever told you what my favorite mission has been?"

Blinking at the seeming change in the subject, Sam replied, "No?"

"Keeping your ass out of danger."

The teenager blinked. "What? Why?"

The usually-bright voice was dark, sullen, close to the "brooding" tone that Optimus often spoke in. "I've been one of the few wunderkinds of the Autobot Army. I'm one of a few young mechs who have been 'blessed' with gifts and talents that make us invaluable to our leaders." Sighing, he muttered, "Myself, Blue, Sunny, Sides . . . Pit, even Cade. Us five, with a few handfuls of others are the youngest generation that have survived the war, aside from the Idiot Twins. And we somehow are the ones that everyone depends upon. I like not being in the spotlight for once. I like protecting you. It gives me space from everyone else."

Sinking down in his seat, Sam sighed and rubbed at his face. His voice was low. "How come you never told me this?"

"Would it have changed your mind? Would it have made you want to bring me with you?" At the resulting silence from Sam, the Autobot sighed through his vents and murmured, "I thought as much. So tell me. Is this personal? Is this about me or is this something just about you?"

"What? What gave you the idea that it was personal?"

"You weren't exactly nice when you were telling me in front of Mikaela that you didn't want me to come with you."

Sam winced and looked out over the passing landscape. "I'm sorry, Bee."

"So is it?"

"Is it what?"

"Personal."

"No. I want to keep in contact with you. You're my first car, man. You're my best friend. But I just don't want you getting more bored than you already have been." He winced and rubbed at his face. "I swear, this sounds like we're lovers or something."

Bee gave an electronic snort. "We couldn't fulfill each other's desires. Simple as that."

"Yeah, I'll leave that up to Barricade for ya."

Thank God that they were on a back road, because Sam nearly went through the windshield at Bee's break-check. "Out."

"What?"

"Out. Now."

Hearing the tone of voice that Bumblebee clearly inherited from Elita, Sam got out of the car in a hurry, soon facing down several tons of pissed-off alien robot. It took the sun-bright mech a moment to say something, which made Sam all the more worried. That meant one thing.

He'd unwittingly and successfully pissed off his best friend to a point where their friendship was on the line.

"Sam, I'm tolerant of a lot of things from you. I'll handle you telling me that you need space. I can understand you wanting a normal life; I wanted a normal life, once, but I never got it. I'll deal with your jokes. I'll laugh at those jokes, even though sometimes I still don't understand human behavior. But one thing I will never tolerate is you making assumptions about my romantic life, or lack thereof."

"That's kinda harsh, coming from the guy who pretty much set me and Mikaela up, don't you think?" he retorted, spurned to anger at the fightin' words coming from his Guardian. "I mean, she and I wouldn't be together if you hadn't intervened. Twice, even! And she's not even sure she wants to stay with me!"

"You live shorter lives! I can handle the time and distance between myself and Cade if I need to! You, on the other hand, have ninety years maximum, Samuel! A hundred if you're lucky and take care of yourself! And if you wish to settle down and have children, that's too short of a lifetime."

"That's no argument, Bumblebee! You know that's no argument!"

"What the slag is going on here?" Barricade's distinctive voice growled as he walked up the deserted street as carelessly as if he were at home on Cybertron. "Primus, you two squabble worse than Sideswipe and Sunstreaker over who gets to be the one to pull off their latest prank." Resting hands on hips, he glared at the duo, unconsciously looking like Prowl's usual state of you've-just-used-up-my-last-whit-of-patience.

"Piss off, I'm talking with Bumblebee," Sam snarled at the mech who scared him worse than any other he'd met, Megatron included, back with that crazy-ass fragger was alive and trying to swat him and grab the AllSpark.

Quirking one optic-ridge up at the boy's mannerisms, Barricade smirked. "Oh, you are, are you?"

"Cade, not now. I need to talk with Sam," the scout replied in a deceptively-calm voice.

"About me."

"Yes, about you."

"Uh-huh." Turning, he looked down at the human. "He's scared I'll steal you from him, that I'll take away your friendship with him."

"Am not!" Sam replied, knowing that he sounded like a three year old with his words.

"It's what all humans fear when their best friend becomes involved with another. They fear that they lose the friendship that they've invested a lot of time in." Crouching down in a manner not unlike Prowl's own, Barricade said in as gentle a voice he could muster, "That's not how Cybertronians handle our friendships or our relationships. You and Bee share a friendship that is much like a titanium-spun thread tether. It will not break. It must not break. You and he are keys to each other's sanity and survival right now."

"And how would you know?"

Not taking offence at the tone, the mech replied, "I've known Bee since he was a Sparkling and I a Youngling. We've been friends most of that time. I know when someone becomes important to him. And I am not jealous that right now, your importance to him means more than my importance to him."

"Barricade . . ." Bumblebee warned, not quite sure of what the undercover agent was up to.

"Bumblebee, he has to learn something. He is not the center of your universe, even though he's pretty darn close right now. You've had a lot of pain in the war; we all have. He's your therapy. I understand that. He doesn't know that yet. But I will not have him causing you trouble because he doesn't understand where you and I stand," Barricade murmured in their native tongue, a series of musical clicks, blaats, whirrs, chitters and sweeping notes across a harmonic scale. To Sam, the message lasted for only a handful of seconds; to Bee, the message felt like it was a lifetime.

Bumblebee nodded, putting himself in a slightly-submissive pose, his gaze dropping in understanding of what the real problems were. Sometimes, he really didn't understand humans, and this was one area that he hadn't expected to be dealing with.

"Think on why you object to the idea of our romance rekindling, if we choose for it to continue. Bee has my contact information if you come to a conclusion." The mech walked past the duo, took two running steps and swan-dived into a graceful, fluid transformation that had him peeling out and shooting off down the street.

:Where are you going, Cade?:

:Off. Out. I'm supposed to be trying to hone in on Optimus' signal.:

:Are you all right?:

:No. I'm going back to Massachusetts. I want to lay low for a while.:

:And you'll be providing interference and additional backup if Sam gets in trouble.:

:I'm not his secondary Guardian and technically, I'm still an embedded agent. I can't rescue Sam. I can't even look like I like the brat right now, so that he continues to treat me like I'm an enemy.:

:So that's what this is about as well.:

:Yes.:

:Stay safe.:

:You too.:

Rubbing at his face, oblivious to the com-link chatter, the boy whispered, "Bee, I'm sorry."

"So'm I. Pit, I forgot how enigmatic Cade could get . . . he's as bad as Prowl on some days." Transforming, the mech opened his door for his friend. "But he's right, you know. You don't have to worry about losing my friendship if he and I were to become close again."

Sliding into the bucket-seat that fit him perfectly, Sam leaned his head back against the rest and sighed. "All right. Let's see what Optimus wants."

Three hours later, he wished he hadn't said those words.

And he wished that he had the courage to confide in the one mech who knew what was happening to him.

.o.

Author's Note: Everything up until the last page was written and easy to put into place. Then I had numerous creative blocks across the board. Barricade showed up, then decided to say, "screw off" and waited for me to do something with him in that scene, Sam does not feel like cooperating (typical teenage boy), and I'm not even halfway through this arc and DOTM plotbunnies are breeding.

And when I say I have DOTM plot already written out, ho boy do I have it! I think that this story could reach 100 chapters . . . and I hope that it is continued to be read even if it becomes that insane of a monster. Also, if I didn't get to your review, it's because I started a job and am trying to balance everything out between that and the upcoming Renaissance Faire season.

I know that it's partially filler, and I'm sorry for this getting up later than my usual once-a-week update, but like I said, life and my muses took a few days to kick my aft around without any rewards. What I wanted to do with this was to give some insight of what would be between scenes in this AU. Chaos up next!

Song is: "Fear" by Sarah McLachlan, chosen because it's got that tentative, winding-up-to-the-situation feeling. Both the studio and live recordings are amazing. And for the line, "But I fear I nothing to give/I have so much to lose."

Please, if you can, YouTube these songs. They really give you the emotions and feelings of what I wish to convey to my readers, and sometimes, they're the reason why I'm delayed in posting a chapter . . . I want the song to fit what I have for you.

TL;DR- I have finicky muses, DOTM plotting is making me insane, sorry for the filler, new job and making sure hours work out right and please listen to the songs, especially the one from this chapter! You guys rock, thank you for all your reviews, watches, and favorites!