Chapter Thirty Six
24th December
0000hrs
It was a pleasant place to be. Deep in his dreams, away from the mess of war, the nagging of his mother in law, the jabs of his wife, the cute ramblings of his son. Oh, but of course he still loved his family, his wife's family, his son was everything in his life, but every now and then he needed those dreams.
It was of a nicer time for him. A time when he felt as if he truly belonged somewhere. Where he didn't have that biting feeling that he was a disturbance, or was there to appease the curiosity of an alien species, or that he was just not wanted at all but was tolerated because of the higher up's need to push some PR appearance.
He was happy in this dream. He'd had it before and he loved it. He'd written it down in a book that he kept near his bed; he occasionally forgot to bring it with him on holidays, but not this season.
The house was warm and the pleasant yellow light from the sun crept in warming him. He was a young chap, very small; he was never sure how old he was in the dream. He'd walk through, his bare feet padding upon the wooden floors and then onto the warm carpet and then sensation changed as he stood on the lino floors of the kitchen. Such a happy place.
His mother stood at the bench pouring the batter of his favourite muffin flavour into the circular based tins. She realised he was there, turned, smiled the smile a mother smiles and then dabbed a wad of batter on the tip of her son's nose. Spike giggled and tried to lick it off, but his tongue wasn't able to reach so he simply scrapped it off with his index finger and then sucked it intently.
"How's my big man, today?"
"Great mum! I finished building the fort! You gotta come see! It can stop dragons!"
"Dragons? Well! In that case my little Knight I will have to just finish putting these muffins in the oven so you and your fellows can have a victory feast!"
She finished dabbing the batter into the tins and then it was into the pre-heated oven. He liked that feeling, the sensation of opening a cold oven to get that gust of warmth from inside. IT filled him with nostalgia for a time he could never return too.
From there the dream would progress to her taking his hand and walking out to see his fort.
But not this time.
She went out alone and when he turned to see who owned the shadow that was cast over him he saw it was his father.
"Hello, son".
"Dad!"
Spike was no longer little Spike or big man, or dragon vanquishing Knight, who stood before Sparkplug was Ambassador Spike Witwicky of Earth, friend to the Autobots and advocate for their rights on Earth, father to Daniel, husband to Carly.
"I have to talk to you about something very important Spike, and time ain't on my side".
"What about dad?"
"There's some things happening, bad things. You need to help them stop it".
"Them? Who's them dad? Oh god, Carly and Daniel?"
"They will be fine, son, but you know who them will be. Soon".
"How am I supposed to stop bad things happening? Aren't I doing that already? Oh wait… are the Decepticons regrouped already?"
"Not in the way you think, son".
"I don't understand, dad, what's going on?"
"Son, you remember the conversation we had after your mother died?"
"We had lots of conversations after mum died, how am I supposed to remember which one?"
"There are things in life, things that we can't explain, like what I am now".
"But dad, you're dead".
The words hurt to say, but as he spoke them he realised he had a moment of striking clarity. This was more then just a dream.
"Dad… you're dead".
"That's right son, and its something we've all gotta do. You won't wanna think about it, but Carly and Daniel and Daniel's children will all die, just like you will die, and even our Autobot friends, son. And just as I'm talking to you now, son, there are Autobots who are doing what I'm doing and talking to other Autobots".
"Dad… dad are you saying that the Autobots are being haunted? Is that why Chip rung and asked all those weird questions, wanting to know about your experiences and your priest friend?"
"I can't answer your questions, son, but you need to help them. There's something you know that can help".
"What, dad? What do I know?"
"You'll know when its needed".
"Dad I don't understand!"
But Sparkplug had gone.
"DAD!"
Spike sat bolt up right in bed, sweat dribbling from his face.
"Spike… Spike, what's the matter?"
Carly woke and sat up, placing her hands on his shoulders and asked the question again, her voice soothing.
"I had a strange dream, Carly, Dad was there, he said I knew something that would help the Autobots, he said they're being haunted… well, he didn't say it so much as implied it".
"Haunted? You mean by like ghosts?"
"I don't know, Carly".
"You really believe that?"
"Carly, honestly, I don't know what to believe. But how long ago did you and I and every other human think we were alone in the universe and if there were other races on other worlds they wouldn't be advanced enough or care enough to visit us".
"That's completely different, Spike, all those aliens exist in the physical world, they're not ghosts".
"But there are human ghosts, or things we call ghosts, stands to reason that a species almost like us could have the same sort of experience".
"So what are you planning to do about it?"
"I have to go, Carly, I have to…"
"On Christmas Eve? You're going to fly across the country, on Christmas Eve, leaving your son behind, your wife, your family to talk to Autobots about whether they've seen some ghosts based on a dream? Spike, do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?"
"Carly! Of course I know how crazy that is! But if you had that dream, the dream I just had… this is something I just have to do?"
"On Christmas Eve? Spike… please, you've already missed a few Christmases with Daniel and chances are you're going to miss a whole heap to come because of your job, please, Spike, please, don't give your son the wrong idea about his dad on Christmas. Just wait till morning and then we'll talk about it more".
Spike looked into the pleading eyes of his wife and sighed.
"Alright, Carly, I'll wait t…"
His cell phone suddenly rung. He picked it up instinctively before his wife could protest.
"Hey".
He listened intently to whoever was on the other end.
"Oh god! Really? Is he going to be okay?"
Concern drenched his voice.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there ASAP".
He hung up and looked at his wife.
"Carly, Chip was in an accident, he's badly hurt, he's asking for me".
"Oh Spike".
Her voice was etched with disappointment. They held each other's gaze for a few moments until she sighed and lay back down, facing away from him.
"Spike, I won't tell you who to choose, whatever you do choose, it will haunt you for the rest of your life, you make your decision, I'm going back to sleep".
"He could die, Carly".
He whispered.
"Why does that bother you, he'll just come back and talk to you in your dreams".
As soon as she said it she regretted it. She sat up quickly and apologised. But Spike was already up.
"I have to go Carly, if you hate me, fine, if Daniel hates me, well, I'm sorry, but I have to be with my friend, especially if he's dying – he has no one else".
"He has science, lets see that comfort him now".
Carly was obviously jealous.
"Look, Sky Fire is coming to get me, I'll get there faster, then if he's okay, if he's stable, I'll come back, it's not Christmas for another 24 hours so I should hopefully be back by then".
"And if he is dying?"
She growled from her position under the covers.
"Then, well, I'll say my goodbyes and come back for a sad Christmas with a family Chip wished he'd always had".
"See you later, then".
Carly grumbled.
Spike got dressed, grabbed a few personal effects and left.
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Author's NB: Man! It pisses me off to NO DAMN END when people write midnight in the 24 hour clock as 2400hrs!! THERE'S NO SUCH BLOODY THING!!! The last minute of one day is 2359 as soon as it ticks midnight it's the new day. Where I work so many people make this mistake, they put 2400 at the end of one day, but its not the END of the day it's the START or the next and the 24th hour is NOT 2400 its 2300 because 0000 – 0100 is the first hour!!!!!! And I try to explain this to people and either they like their ignorance or they just don't care!!! I get all OCD over this!! I mean, you don't see 2430 written, do you? No, you don't, you know why, BECAUSE THERE'S NO SUCH BLOODY THING AS TWENTY FOUR HUNDRED!! ITS ZERO HUNDRED!!
I mean, really, I'm dyslexic and I get it.
Thus, ends my rant.