Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day! Here's a little love from me to you. ;)

Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, or favorite this fic! I promised myself that I would respond to reviews before posting, but this chapter has been ready to go for the last 5 days and I just can't seem to find the hour or so it would take to respond to everyone. The next several days are going to be crazy-busy, too, so I'm just going to post and once again beg your forgiveness. Please know that I eagerly read each review and that your encouragement keeps me writing. :)

Also, a special thanks goes out to IronRaven for his help in developing Packard's character.

Bumblebee's song quotes:

"Dangerous" by Akon
"Maneater" by Hall and Oats
"U Can't Touch This" by MC Hammer

Over the next week, some of the details the 'bots had dug up about the shooter were released to the public. Eventually al-Sharif sent me an email with a copy of the suicide note attached. For a good week I let it sit there in my inbox, dreading to read it but not quite able to make myself delete it. Did I really care what he said? It wouldn't change anything. Both him and his son were dead now. His whole family, gone.

Before I had this bond with Optimus, I wouldn't have thought twice about deleting the note, but I knew what it felt like to lose every single person you loved because Optimus had felt it. I knew what it felt like to when your entire clan was destroyed. I'd seen a first-hand glimpse of what genocide looked like.

And so I went back and forth until finally I decided I would read it. The Decepticons may have been the ones at fault, but I was the reason the Larsens got shot. They deserved to have me read it. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was rambling for the most part, more eulogy than mission statement. He talked a lot about his own son, an outdoorsy kind of kid who was going into robotics.

One part really hit me, though.

"I'm not doing it for revenge. Revenge doesn't do anybody any good. 'Thou shalt not kill', among the oldest of laws. 'Do no harm', the oath I took. Two wrongs don't make a right. I taught that to my boy. To my Sam, my son. My Sam died because the other Sam lives. Because the other Sam was ever born. I don't know why those monsters want him. But they do.

"All this death. Over one boy. One insignificant boy, who has no idea how much suffering he has caused. I don't blame him. I could see him, that day in the library. Scared, confused, a pawn. A prize. But selfish. Cowardly.

"The robots want him. If he wasn't here, they wouldn't be fighting over him. 'If you can't share, I'll take it away, and then you can't fight over it.' Those are a parent's words. These robots are fighting over Witwicky. If he's gone, they'll have nothing to fight over. They'll leave, and they won't kill any other sons.

"I'm sorry for what I'm going to do to his father. But Sam Witwicky must die, for the good of the world. I'm sorry, boy."

Boy, brother, son. But others had called me 'boy,' too. From Megatron, it meant maggot, insect, vermin. The brass and the politicos really meant inexperienced, ignorant, fool. Now I could add coward to the list.

Which boy, though? His Sam or me? Was he apologizing to his son? That his boy died? That he didn't die when his Sam did? That he'd take another life? Or was it to me, apologizing that I was too dangerous and cowardly to live?

'Crazy old man,' I tried to remind myself. 'Campus shooter – he had a bunch of screws loose.'

But I couldn't shake the feeling that, at least on some things, he was dead right.

…

January bled into February with dull grey skies and more cold and snow.

It was a lot easier to pick out Valentine's Day cards for Mikaela this year when I didn't have to exclude the ones that said, "I love you." I sent three of them, actually, just because I could and I missed her almost as much as I did Optimus. I got a package in the mail from her a couple of days early but didn't open it until we were both in front of a webcam.

"Go ahead," she encouraged, almost achingly beautiful on my computer screen. She'd gone out of her way to be gorgeous today. I really wished she was here. Focusing again, I opened the box, and she added, "The one in red paper is for today. The other one is for your birthday."

The red present was a small box…a jewelry box?

"It's just bling, 'kay?" she suddenly rambled, sounding almost like she was channeling me. "It's not like a proposal or anything because I know you're so not ready for that, and neither am I – we just barely started saying I love you – but you gave me the necklace, and at Christmas I realized what I wanted to give you but I thought of it too late and ran out of time, and it seemed like Valentines would be a better time to give this to you anyway."

I blinked and stared at her. "Did you do that on purpose?"

She blushed a little. "Not really, no. I guess you're rubbing off on me."

I chuckled and anxiously opened the box. It was a ring. I blinked in surprise. That was…weird.

"Just bling," she repeated. "Your mom said you would like it."

I rolled my eyes. "You're taking fashion advice from my mother? I guess the world really did end."

She gave me a nervous smile.

I looked at it more closely – it was gold and silver in a kind of checkerboard pattern, but some of the squares were larger than others and the biggest silver square was set in place of a jewel. But that square was divided so there was a big diamond-shaped section in the middle. And stamped into the silver diamond was a Prime glyph.

I looked up sharply and she smiled a little. "Do you like it?"

My jaw fell open and I looked back down. On the other, smaller silver squares, more Cybertronian glyphs were etched. I recognized they were modern ones, not the language of the Primes, but beyond that I had no idea what they meant.

"'Bee and Wheelie helped me with it."

"Great," I sarcastically muttered.

"I promised to torch Wheelie if he put any funny stuff in," she assured me. "Have 'Bee translate it sometime."

"You're not going to tell me?"

She bit her lip, either nervous or embarrassed and possibly both. "I guess Cybertronian languages are really precise, even though there's the cultural stuff like how a Prime means so much more than just the name of a clan."

"Okay…?"

"They don't have 'I love you.' It's too ambiguous. They have 'I cherish you,' and 'I admire you,' and 'I would die for you.'"

I looked more closely at the ring, lightly brushing a fingertip over the glyphs.

"So yeah…I guess if I'm kind of a maybe-Prime-in-law, you should have something from me that was Primely. In return for the necklace."

No words for 'I love you.' A prickle ran up the base of my skull. The All Spark was stowed away in my brain back then – during the whole time between Mission City and Giza. Was it really that I was scared? I could tell her every other way…

My head snapped up. "Why did you do it? Last summer…at my house…when we…"

She rolled her eyes. "You are such a little girl. When we had sex for the first time?"

I frowned at her tone but said, "I hadn't even told you I loved you."

She looked down, biting her lip again. "I was kind of hoping, but…" She shrugged.

Hoping that I would tell her afterward? I'd wanted to, but it had felt…wrong. Like the wrong thing to say, like it would just drive her away if I said something as meaningless as those three words after something as powerful as that.

Meaningless because it meant nothing in Cybertronian.

The words I'd wanted to say had been too scary – that she would always be a part of me, that I wanted to be part of her, and that I couldn't live without her. They were words bondmates might say.

Fury welled up in me. The All Spark had now officially screwed up my relationship with my girlfriend, too. Was there any part of my life it wasn't going to ruin? Looking up, I blurted out, "I love you." Tapping the ring for emphasis, I said, "I adore you, you're the best thing that ever happened to me, I would do anything for you."

Her eyes widened as she understood.

"I'm so sorry, Mikaela. I couldn't say it I guess – not until after I died and got rid of the stupid thing. I mean, I probably could have if I tried really hard, but it was hanging out in my subconscious and I didn't realize…"

"The All Spark."

I nodded. "I love you," I fervently repeated.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she bit her lip, obviously trying to hold back tears. I cursed the distance between us. Mikaela rarely showed weakness, and I would have given a lot to be able to put my arms around her. She was so strong, and it was with a soul-jarring jolt that I realized she needed me.

"I'm so sorry…"

She managed a weak smile and brushed away the half-formed tears. "You really do mean it, don't you – the 'I love you' part."

"Yes! All those times I couldn't say it, I meant it then, too."

She nodded, looking down thoughtfully for a second before meeting my gaze again. "Is it really gone this time?"

I sighed. "I think so? I hope so, anyway. But…"

"Yeah, but…" she commiserated.

"I love you," I hopefully repeated.

And this time some of that sparkle returned to her eyes. "I love you, too."

…

On February 17th, my birthday dawned bright and surprisingly warm. Wisps of a dream lingered in my memory: Optimus standing beside me on the aircraft carrier with one reassuring hand on my shoulder. Usually dreams about Optimus were depressing because (just like in this one) I could see him but not feel him, but this one left me feeling more upbeat than I had been in a long time.

My email inbox was stuffed full of e-card well-wishes (forwarded from my government office courtesy of al-Sharif) from random people who liked Alienboy for their own mysterious reasons. Mikaela's package was joined by one from my mom. They'd obviously coordinated – Mikaela got me a bunch of extra-warm acrylic socks and Mom got me these really nice rubber-soled leather slippers. If I just needed to run down to the cafeteria, I could pull those on instead of having to find a pair of clean socks and my boots. (Yeah, Mom knew how lazy I was. Or maybe she just didn't want my feet to get cold if I had to run away from Decepticons in the middle of the night.) It was like the Eskimo version of flip-flops.

Between the dream, the sunshine and being buried in drifts of birthday cheer, I was actually smiling when I hiked up onto campus after lunch. Classes went well, but on the walk back Leo ranted about a text Simmons had sent him half-way through the final lecture of the day. Some mystery shipment in Boston had gone missing. Apparently a car imported from England had driven off in the middle of the night and he was sure it was the 'con that had landed in London.

The news should have been worrying, but for some reason, Leo was just cracking me up – all intense and waving his hands over something that was probably just a really good car theft. He was in his element, wildly spinning tales of conspiracy and mayhem, and it was all I could do to not laugh at him.

Bumblebee texted me when I was within sight of the dorm. /Happy Birthday! I've got a surprise for you – but ditch Spitz./

I snorted and waved Leo ahead. "Cam's got a birthday present for me."

"If it's cake, save me some."

"Dream on."

He rolled his eyes and went inside, but I continued down to the street. Bumblebee's grinning holoform stood leaning with his back against the Camero, his arms crossed, as he looked at the brunette in pink camo beside him. "That girl is so dangerous…" his speakers sang.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes like he'd said something flattering, but that…wasn't…possible? And then I recognized her – Arcee's holoform. An identical twin to the 'girl' talking to Cam leaned against a nearby blue motorcycle wearing a steel-blue bomber jacket. The pink motorcycle was nearest Bumblebee but the purplish-red one was empty. Interesting. Everything looked cool, but I nervously glanced around once.

I walked closer, and Arcee's holoform looked up, her smile fading. She pushed away from the car body she'd been leaning against and took a step forward to greet me. "Samuel."

"Arcee. Why are you here? Is something wrong?" Reflexively, I glanced around again.

"Nothing's wrong," she answered, shifting her feet almost like she was embarrassed. "But…we're the smallest of the Autobots; catching a flight is a lot easier for us. Your brother wanted us to speak with you. Is there a place we can go to be alone? A park or someplace where we won't be seen or overheard?"

That was odd. "Sure." I half-smiled. "There's plenty of cover over on Founder's Hill. I'm sure we could find a quiet spot there."

She nodded and climbed aboard her pink bike. I walked toward 'Bee but his still-smiling holoform didn't move away from the car door, instead gesturing toward the empty motorcycle. Really confused now, I went to the rose-red component and climbed aboard. "We'll drive, if you don't mind," she said as she tossed me a helmet.

I snorted a laugh. "I'm used to Mikaela – she never lets me drive her bikes."

Flashing me a genuine smile, Arcee fired up the engines on all three of her components.

Cam climbed into the car and followed us, the holoform flickering out of existence as 'Bee darkened the tint on his windows. My curiosity grew with each passing minute as we drove. Bumblebee followed us, but only at a distance. It was kind of strange for me to be riding with another Autobot. Not that I had anything against Arcee, but 'Bee didn't even trust Optimus to keep me safe. And why did she need to talk to me alone? What would she need from me that she couldn't talk about in front of everyone else? A truly frightening thought occurred to me. Did she want me to use my Primely power to create a new…sparkling or youngling or whatever? It was bad enough that I couldn't bring back Jazz – what if all their hopes for me creating new Autobots were empty, too?

There was a bicycle ramp so students could take a short cut up onto campus and avoid all the cars. Motorized vehicles weren't supposed to go on it, but that didn't stop Arcee. 'Bee parked on the street while she drove me up a ways and then turned off the ramp onto a jogging path that followed an artificial stream. A little further on was a stand of evergreens that would shield us from the view of anyone at the bottom of the hill, while the slope shielded us from view from above. She stopped and I climbed off, returning the helmet to her.

She transformed, first into her bike-bots and then those components came together to form a single bi-pedal femme.

"Sorry," she said, lowering to one knee so she was closer to eye level. "Will tells me it's disconcerting when I talk in the plural, so I thought it best to go somewhere we could speak privately."

Ah, that explained it. "That's fine," I answered, not quite sure what to say After a few awkward seconds, I said, "So…"

"Yes?"

"…why kidnap me?"

"If now's not a convenient time…"

"No, it's fine. I'm just wondering."

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting for a minute. Finally gathering her courage, she looked up to meet my gaze. "I need to tell you about my death, Prime."

I blinked a couple of times in surprise – this was the last thing I'd expected. "Your death."

She nodded, looking down again, tilting her head almost like she was embarrassed. "Optimus is worried about you. So is Bumblebee. I've talked with them both, and they think you need to hear what I have to say."

"Okay," I hesitantly answered.

Lifting her gaze to mine, she said, "Firstly, I don't want you to think it was your fault. It wasn't. Will sent me with Ironhide to find you, but only because he knew I'd want to be part of the search team. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good." She looked away, staring at the swirl of water under the film of ice on the stream. An awkward few seconds of silence passed before she continued. "Optimus said that he met his fellow Primes when he died. That he spent time with them and learned a lot."

"Yeah, he mentioned that," I told her encouragingly.

Her gaze darted to mine. "It was like that for you, too?"

"Yeah…? Wasn't that what happened to you?"

She snorted and looked down. "No. I'm not a Prime, Samuel."

Oh. And then I huffed a chuckle at my own ignorance. Silly me, I'd just assumed that all death-and-resurrection experiences were the same. "Sorry," I said when she glanced warily at me. "You were saying?"

She squared her shoulders with resolve. "I'm not a Prime, and neither is…was Jazz. Optimus is worried that you're still blaming yourself and I think I might know why Jazz didn't come back."

"What do you mean?"

"Unlike Optimus, I was given a choice."

I just stared at her for a second, trying to wrap my mind around what she was saying. "You mean like someone actually asked you?"

"Yes. My creator-sister, Aren. She had died in an accident before the War started. I remember seeing her, talking with her, but I don't remember much about what was actually said. It was about the future, though, I think. Or what could be. I also learned from her what you were and who your brother was. The only actual words that clearly stuck with me about our conversation was her telling me that I could stay with her or I could go back to the fight and join her again later. She asked me what I wanted and I told her that I wanted to be where I'd do the most good."

When I didn't answer, she added, "It wasn't my fate to come back, Samuel. It was my choice."

Her words slowly sank in, and I remembered what the Ancient Prime said about reigniting Optimus. 'It is and always has been your destiny.' I'd assumed that reigniting Arcee had been my destiny, too. Optimus himself said it was my fate…wait, no he didn't. He only said it wasn't his fate to ignite others' sparks. "So you think Jazz choseto stay dead?"

"Not really," she said with a half-smile, looking down at the stream again. "Jazz loved life more than any other being I've ever met, but maybe he was having more fun on the other side? I honestly don't know. But Optimus was surprised when I told him that I'd been given a choice and he thought it might help you not take it so personally. I truly believe it has nothing to do with you. You are a Prime, Samuel, and a true brother of Optimus would not take away another's choice."

I could kind of see where she was coming from, and she was right that it did make me feel a little better. Still, Jazz didn't come back, even though she did. I couldn't help but wonder, "Were you tempted to stay with your sister?"

Her tone was wistful as she stared at the swirling stream. "Of course. It was peaceful there. Happy. There was no war, and I was in one piece again."

"One piece? But…" I glanced over her frame, wondering if she felt buyer's remorse. "Ratchet said it was an upgrade."

"No human thinks otherwise and I'd prefer to keep it that way, but you are a Prime." Hesitating like she was gathering her courage, she softly said, "My 'upgrade' was involuntary."

She glanced up to watch my reaction and I suddenly understood. "Decepticons."

Arcee nodded, holding my gaze. "They captured me and split my spark." She nervously looked down again. "Ratchet's figured out a work-around so I can recombine into a single 'bot, but I'll never be able to take a single alt-form again. At my request, the others refer to it as an upgrade because I was a victim once and I refuse to let the 'cons keep me that way. I'm a survivor. I don't want to be pitied. I don't want people to look at me and think about my spark being violated that way – I want them to see me. So we all call it an upgrade, and I scrap anyone who tries to insinuate otherwise."

Again Arcee's gaze flitted to mine, and too late I tried to hide my horror. She could never fully recover from that assault. Every time any of the 'bots looked at her, they'd see how the 'cons had literally taken her spark and broken her.

"It is an upgrade in some ways," she insisted, "especially now that Ratchet's put me back together again more or less. I've turned the Decepticons' violation of my spark into an even stronger weapon to use against them. But I'll never be the same – at least, not while I'm alive. So yes, it was tempting to stay there and in one piece."

"But…?"

With a wan smile, Arcee glanced down the hill to where we both knew Bumblebee was waiting and standing guard. "But I had friends who would miss me and be left to fight alone. Thanks to Aren, I understood you were a Prime and Optimus' brother, and I just couldn't leave things as they were and never know if you survived that battle. But at the same time, it was so peaceful. I hope…" Her optics darted to mine and away again. "I hope that being a Prime means you'll get to go there someday, Samuel, even if you are human. I didn't want to leave, but I didn't feel like I should stay, either, not yet. So I told her I wanted to be where I would do the most good, and here I am. But Jazz may have given a different answer. He might not have been given a choice. I don't know."

I nodded and dared to put my hand over hers where it was resting on her bended knee. She didn't want my pity, but she did have my compassion. "Thank you – for telling me and for coming back from that peaceful place when I needed you."

Arcee looked up at me in surprise, and it was my turn to give her a smile. "I don't know how I could have handled it if I hadn't been able to bring you back. I wouldn't see myself as a Prime, that's for sure."

"Primes are born – "

"Not made," I interrupted her, letting my hand fall away from hers. "But how long did Optimus live before he knew he really was a Prime and not just called one out of respect? Being powerful and knowing you're powerful are two different things, and I don't have as much time to waste as he does."

She nodded with a little smile. "Thank you, Prime. Especially for giving me some of your time today of all days."

I glanced down the hill toward Bumblebee and muttered, "Don't worry about it. I think it was a present for me."

After Arcee brought me back down the hill, I rode with 'Bee on the way home. We spent the short drive back to the dorm in contented silence, at least until I caught sight a flame-painted semi. OPTIMUS! The thrill raced along my spine and I lunged at him over the brother bond that I only now realized was wide-awake even if it was blocked. No wonder I'd been in a good mood all day! I shoved hard against that block, and my brother threw it wide open. His surge of joy made me burst out in laughter. "You punk!" I shouted, half at 'Bee and half at Optimus (even though he couldn't hear me). "This was my real present, wasn't it!"

"Uh-huh," 'Bee said with his own voice, still managing to sound happy and smug despite his injury.

I leaned back in my seat, grinning like a maniac, as Bumblebee cruised past Optimus' alt-form.

"Wait!" I protested. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he answered. "Upstairs."

'Bee parked in his usual spot by the dorm, Arcee pulling into some nearby motorcycle parking spaces. I ran inside, taking the steps two at a time, not bothering to see if the 'bots followed me in their holoforms or not. I threw open the door and skidded to a halt. My room was decked out with streamers and balloons and a cake. And in the middle of it all was my brother.

Waves of his happiness and satisfaction and excitement swept over the bond, and I just stood there, soaking it all up. Then his affection swelled strong and deep and enveloped me in that soul-satisfying permanent hug.

"Optimus," I murmured, surprised and overwhelmed. I'd felt a lot of things from my brother, but this sheer delight was something new, and it left me grinning like an idiot.

He chuckled as he greeted me. "Sam."

I caught him back in a hug of the heart, holding him so tight I could barely breathe. And all the while, any random passerby would probably think we were stoned or something just standing there on opposite sides of the room, looking at each other without really seeing. All of our attention was focused on the bond. I took a minute to convince myself that this was real, that it wasn't another dream, and that my brother was really, truly here.

Eventually he rumbled, "Happy birthday."

Breaking out of the trance or whatever, I crossed the room to catch him in a physical hug. Surprise flickered across the bond, but he squeezed me tight before letting me go, even though we still latched on to each other over the bond. "Wow," I said, laughing as I looked around at his handiwork. "How long did this take you?"

"Not long," he answered, his smug satisfaction swelling stronger.

Faster than any human could hope to move, then. I was grinning so big that my face was starting to hurt as I imagined it.

All that changed in a heartbeat: Fassbinder and Sharsky walked into view through the still-open door. Great. My conspiracy-nut roomies. They were the last people I wanted to have making small talk with Optimus.

They poked their heads in and warily looked at the streamers before zeroing in on the cake.

"Mine," I preemptively said.

Thwarted there, Sharsky focused suspiciously on my brother as he edged into the room. "Who are you?"

"Guys, this is Op...timus," I said, not realizing the danger until it was too late.

"Uncle?" Fassbinder guessed, following Sharsky as they stalked closer to the cake.

"Blood brother," Optimus said before I could come up with a better explanation.

The roomies stared at me owlishly. "Long story," I said, hoping they'd let me leave it at that. Turning to Optimus, I asked, "You want to go get something to eat?"

"Yes," he simply answered, nodding good-bye to the guys.

"But...but...cake!" Fassbinder protested.

"The cake is a lie," Sharsky immediately deadpanned.

"After I get a decent meal," I countered. I didn't want to have cake for dinner in front of someone who could report to Mom (or worse, Ratchet) about my sucky eating habits.

"You touch, you die," I added, and casting me dirty looks, they wandered over toward their computers. "I promise to share when I get back."

"I make no promises," Sharsky grumbled ominously. "So you'd better hurry."

"Deal."

We went to the food court on campus since Optimus didn't want to lose his parking space. I got a burger and fries, but Optimus didn't order anything, and we slipped into an out-of-the-way booth where we could easily talk.

"Thanks for decorating my room," I said before diving into my fries.

"My pleasure. How has your birthday been?"

We talked about it – the presents Mom and Mikeala sent, the really odd fan-mail birthday wishes, and how I had bombed the last lit test. On the bright side, Fassbinder's 'edit' of my paper got me an A on it, and that was keeping my grade afloat. All the while, I soaked up every flicker of affection and warmth I felt coming across the bond. It was at once strange and comforting to make small talk with Optimus, resurrected Prime, leader of the Autobots, and my younger brother.

About the time I was ready for a refill on my pop, we were interrupted by Bumblebee's holoform sliding into the booth seat beside Optimus and ducking his head low like he was hiding.

"Hey," I greeted him, surprised.

"Arcee is in pursuit, I assume," Optimus said, giving 'Bee a severe look but radiating amused approval over the bond.

"O-oh here she comes/ she's a man-eater," 'Bee confirmed.

"You provoked her," my brother guessed.

Bumblebee's answering grin was positively goofy and he ducked his head: guilty as charged.

Turning to me, Optimus explained, "It's a more grown-up version of hide-and-seek. Slightly more grown-up, in their case," he added, glancing at 'Bee with an almost paternal indulgence. "Both Bumblebee and Arcee are scouts and often pit themselves against each other to keep themselves sharp. He's masking his spark signature and hiding his alt-form while Arcee's trying to find him."

Addressing him, Optimus added, "I assume it's only two of her holoforms against your one." I could sense his unspoken 'you both had better be playing fair.'

"Only two?" I challenged.

"If they stay within their holoforms' natural limits, he has a distinct advantage."

To illustrate, 'Bee flexed his muscles – repeatedly.

I chuckled at his obvious playfulness. It was good to see 'Bee so happy.

"So Arcee gets to use two of her holoforms to even things up?" I guessed.

"Pshaw," 'Bee said with his actual voice, grinning even wider. "Can't touch this!"

"It was a bold move," Optimus pointed out, "coming to check on Sam. She no doubt anticipated it."

'Bee nodded, and his cell phone squealed, "Run away! Run away!" His eyes sparkling with laughter, he solemnly shook hands with first Optimus and then me, gravely saluted and slid out of the booth to stealthily make his way toward the exit. He didn't have to say the clichéd 'It's been an honor serving with you' for me to hear it loud and clear. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him this playful.

"He likes her, doesn't he."

"Yes," Optimus admitted. "They have protected each other for a long time – successfully, which is saying something."

It was another reminder that, no matter how happy any of the Autobots might seem, their lives had been brutally heartbreaking.

"They are a good team," he continued. "An excellent one, actually. But Arcee does not wish to distract Bumblebee from his obligation to protect you. Only now, with me here, did he feel he could relax a little with her."

I wanted to protest – to tell Optimus and 'Bee and Arcee that they should take a vacation or have fun whenever they wanted – but I couldn't. The price of my kinda-sorta normal life was their freedom. How did I miss that until now?

Optimus reached out to me over the bond, his permanent hug soothing my guilt and reassuring me I was worth it. Reaching back, I took hold of his feelings and held them tightly in my own heart. I'd missed this. Judging by his feelings, he'd missed it, too.

We decided that if I wanted to have any cake left, we'd better head back to the dorm, and we walked side-by-side through the chill night.

I didn't want to know the answer, but I eventually asked, "How long will you be able to stay?"

"Until tomorrow afternoon. Officially, Arcee and I are here as representatives of the company that will be installing the security upgrades for campus."

"So I'll have 'bot-level tech keeping an eye on me?" I asked, caught somewhere between amused that they'd start letting humans handle their technology and touched that I'd be the reason.

"Among other things, yes." He muted the bond. "I will also be meeting with someone in the FBI. There is an investigation open on Packard Larsen and the agent wished to hold a meeting with me."

"Ah." That explained both the visit and him hiding his emotions. I reached out over the bond, wrapping him up in my reassurance that I was okay, and he eased the block aside. It was hard to not just open the floodgates and unload all the emotions I'd been bottling up for...weeks. I mentally counted...it had been almost two months – the longest we'd been apart so far – but I didn't think I could handle it if we went that long again. I realized now that my melancholy wasn't due the weather or being depressed about someone trying to kill me. It had been homesickness, and home was wherever my brother was. "When do you think you'll come back?"

"Perhaps over spring break," he answered. "We could spend more time then."

Knowing when I would see him again eased some of the ache at the thought of him leaving, even if it would be another couple of months. "Sounds good."

"You have been troubled," Optimus observed, his easy calm soothing me even while the words made my anxiety ratchet up.

"I thought you couldn't sense me on the other side of the globe."

"Bumblebee has acute audio sensors. You have had nightmares again."

I sighed, walking in silence for a few seconds while I gathered my thoughts and my courage. "Not that I'm complaining, but do you ever wonder why the All Spark sent us back?"

"We were needed," he answered, puzzled by this turn in the conversation.

"But…why us? The Dynasty of the Primes stayed dead. And getting something organic back to life had to have been a trick for something that kind of specializes in machines. Originally the All Spark randomly chose me to be a human Prime – why didn't it just choose another kid?"

We walked in silence again as he mulled it over.

When the quiet stretched too long, I said, "Jazz didn't come back, so it's not like there's this magic-wand happily-ever-after ending for everybody. I just…while you were dead I felt like I had a purpose. I knew I needed to bring you back somehow, and…and that's what I was living for. And then you were back and you…the Autobots had their Prime and the humans had theirs and that was my purpose – to be an ambassador. But this…" It was hard to say the words, but I forced myself to. "…this assassination attempt just made me wonder. Do I have a purpose anymore? For the All Spark, I mean. In the epic Primely leader kind of way."

He let me finish rambling and continued to ponder for a few heartbeats. "I do not know what purposes the All Spark might have for us still, but I do know this." His spark held my heart tightly. "You are as much a Prime for the Autobots as you are for your own species. You are needed."

I sighed, taking comfort from that hug and returning it. "Thanks. But I just can't help but wonder what's so important that the All Spark would go to the trouble of bringing us both back when it hasn't apparently bothered before. It kind of makes me nervous."

His wry humor swelled across our bond. "You have faced death, Sam. You have survived it."

"Yeah, but…" I huffed, frustrated.

"But this is the unknown," he supplied, his understanding and acceptance filling my heart. "And the unknown is even more fearsome than death."

"Yeah," I lamely agreed.

Squaring his shoulders, he said, "Whatever we may yet face, boy, we face it together. Our fates are bound, of that I am certain."

Boy, son, brother. I took hold of his fierce confidence, clinging to it. "Together." In life, in death, and in endless political meetings. I half smiled. "Thanks."