*Various lawyers chat to each other from across the pool, sipping drinks and enjoying their holiday*
*Suddenly, the sky goes grey and a blot of lightning strikes the earth, sending dirt and dust flying through the air*
*Slowly, a cloaked figure gets to their feet and stalks their way through the silent crowd, smirking under their hood*
*The cloaked figure makes their way to the bar, and stands up on it*
*The cloaked figure pulls down their hood to reveal newly-dyed jet-black hair, CND and a skull cuff earrings, and smirks*
*Some lawyers scream, some pass out, some pray and most send their drinks hurtling towards the earth due to numb fingers*
*The cloaked figure turns to stare at the amazingly-patient and simply wonderful readers*
StarGazingAtMidnight: Look who's back, bitches xD
Despite trying to fight it, Sam's sight was blurring and fading as the car screeched to a stop. Vaguely, he could hear the door fly open and Miles's sharp commands, the undertone of fear in his voice making him mentally blanch at what he must look like. Suddenly, Miles occupied his vision, blood matting his hair as he looked down at him, trying to keep him awake by talking to him. He pulled the corner of his mouth up in a lop-sided smile to try and reassure him, his own body relaxing slightly when he saw how his brother was mostly uninjured.
His brother's face blurred for a second, his hair darkening to chocolate brown and a strange symbol slithering across his cheek. Sam shook his head to try and focus, but Miles still had brown hair. His head lolled to the side and the runway of airport shimmered like a mirage, swirling into strange building which almost looked like a tall, twisting castle. He blinked a few more times in bemusement before something pricked his arm and he slipped into blessed darkness.
The grass was unbelievably cool under his feet as he walked through the garden. He let his fingers trail across the multicoloured flowers, still awed by the variety of colour even after four Summer Solstices. A soft giggle made his ears prick and he turned, drawn towards the sound with a small, loving smile already curling on his lips.
"What happened next, Creator? What did you do when you saw him?"
"What do you think I did, silly? I asked him to dance with me."
"Really? But you told Uncle Dijon you didn't want to dance!"
"I didn't...with anyone other than your carrier."
"Was he pretty?"
"He's always pretty."
"Creator!"
He rounded the corner silently, lightly pressing a hand against his lips to halt the soft laugh that wanted to escape. His daughter sat crossed-legged on the brightly coloured blanket that was draped over the white stone bench, curly black hair shining blue in the warm sunlight with a flower tucked behind her ear. His Entwined had his back to him as he helped her create a bracelet of flower, a halo of flowers already in his own dark hair.
"He was the most beautiful being I had ever seen in my life."
"What did he do?"
"Well, he looked me up and down and said-"
He wrapped his arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss against the patch of skin just under his ear.
"Sure thing, handsome."
Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him onto Hunter's lap. He went with a laugh, pressing a kiss against his Entwined's nose and opening his arms for his daughter to squirm into with a giggle of her own. Hunter shook his head and pressed a kiss against his copper hair, smothering his laughter.
Sam? Sam, can you hear me?"
His eyes flickered open briefly for a second, just long enough to watch Aqua's scars disappear and a twisting symbol to swivel into place on her cheek, and then darkness claimed him again.
"What did the Guardians have to say, my son?"
He bit his lip as he looked up at his father, scratching his wrist absentmindedly. His father looked back serenely, as did the other around the table. None would rush him, as the words the Guardians spoke often left the messenger disorientated for a while. Gently, Hunter intertwined their fingers, grounding him.
"Proteus?"
"They...they gave me a prophesy, and I think it's to do with The War. With me and with...Abaddon"
Mutterings and hisses broke out among the table; his father's serene face splintered into fury at the sound of his brother's name and Hunter didn't try to repress his furious snarl, pulling Proteus into his side protectively.
"What is it, my son?" His father's face smoothed and his voice was softened, conscious of his son's past with Abaddon. Proteus swallowed and looked up at Hunter. The fury had not left his Entwined's eyes, but they softened and he smiled reassuringly at him. Taking a breath, he nodded and recalled it, line-by-line.
"The day will come where our world will die"
"Obvious. Our world is going to die; our guardian is going to pull away from us."
"Our children scattered across the sky"
"We will be refugees, scattered across the stars"
"A world unknown will call them near"
"Again, simple to decipher. We will find a new home."
"An untold power hidden here"
"That could be anything."
"Or," Heads snapped around to his father, who was staring at him unflinchingly, "Anyone."
"A champion who will dance with death"
Again, his father did not remove his gaze from him. "It's you, isn't it, my son?"
He gazed back for a moment, then bowed his head and pulled his cream undershirt back to display a twisting symbol that had been burned there when one of the Guardians had clasped his shoulder. At the sight of it, Hunter gave a weak moan and pulled him against him even tighter, as if to shield him from this future.
"Only saved by bonded's breath."
Heads now snapped to Hunter, who couldn't help but sigh in relief slightly. 'He'll be okay', he chanted to himself, 'I'll be with him. I'll keep him safe'
"At war for peace, our children cry"
Silence echoed around the table before Dijon broke it gruffly, tightened his arm around Bahadu's waist. "The War."
He nodded softly before swallowing and continuing.
"There is more than first meets the eye."
"That could be anything!" Batel huffed, running her hands through her bright hair. Her Entwined shushed her gently, stroking her hair. He understood her frustration; he too was irritated at the lack of information. He gazed across the table with violet eyes, watching his brother and his Entwined keep their masks up to stop anyone from seeing their true fear. He hated what his brother's Entwined was going to be put through and he silently cursed the Guardians.
'Hasn't Proteus been through enough, without this as well?'
"Our home returned, our children free"
"Finally, some damn good news!"
Pyrrhos let out a laugh and punched the air, fist-bumping Bahadur. The sombre atmosphere was broken for a moment as relived smiles broke out on their faces. It only lasted a few moments as they were brought back down when Proteus was prompted to continue. He glanced at Hunter and then kept his eyes on the table as he recited it softly.
"A champion's life was the fee"
The room seemed to plunge into ice as they stared at the Consort, who refused to meet anyone's eyes. No-one so much as breathed, as if making a sound would make what he had just said true. The silence rang for several more minutes before the heir's hand came down on the table with an echoing crack.
"No."
Hunter's eyes were burning as he held Proteus tightly, so intertwined it was hard to tell where each half ended and the other began. "I won't let that happen."
"Hunter...if it's for our home-"
"No!" He took a steadying breath, as if he had been running for miles, "You are my home. I will not lose you."
They stared each other down, neither of them breaking eye contact until Theokleia cleared her throat. "We can discuss this-"
"There is nothing to discuss!"
"-Hunter!"
"-LATER! Proteus, continue."
"The battle is over; the war has just begun"
"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold on. What the-!"
"I think..." Proteus flushed when he was the centre of attention once more, "I think that has more to do with the Guardians."
"What do you mean, son?"
"Well...think about it." Blue eyes which seemed to contain lightening glanced around the table, "The Guardians are thousands of millennia old. Therefore, is it not wise to suggest that their scale of time is skewed compare to ours? A war spanning decades for us-"
"-May be only what they see as a small fight." Understanding bloomed in Hunter's bright eyes. "So when we finish our war-"
"-It's only the beginning of a war for them."
"But," Pyrrhos shook his head, "That implies that this 'fight' is the start of a war. So...we'd be on one side and Abaddon's minions on the other. But if we win this war, how would they keep fighting?"
"..." Hunter and Proteus shared another long, loaded look before the heir answered,
"We mustn't be able to completely finish them off, so we try again and again through...we think...reincarnation. For all of us, until we stop them for once and for all."
"What makes you thing that?" Bahadur leaned forward, hazel eyes kept flat to stop how he really felt about fighting in the same goddamn war over and over again leaking through.
"The last line." Proteus tucked a strand of copper behind his ear.
"The way it shall remain 'til the day when all are one.
It sounds like this will keep repeating over and over again until we both agree that the war truly is over."
"Abaddon will never admit defeat. Nor will we."
"Exactly."
Shocking blue eyes flew open with a gasp and Sam pushed himself up as quickly as he could, due to the unfamiliar surroundings. Immediately after sitting up, he collapsed back onto his back again with a strangled cry as fire and barbed wire seemed to tear up and down his chest. His vision blurred as familiar hands held him down, murmuring soothingly to him. When the pain had receded, he blinked up at Miles's drawn face. He coughed a few times, and then pulled another lop-sided grin up at him. Immediately the tension Miles was holding seemed to fly out of him and he slumped, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. The Unspeakable slowly pushed himself up and twisted so his legs dangled over the side of the bed, head cradled in his palms. In silence, he stared at the ground for a few moments before steeling his nerve.
"How many?" He immediately winced as his throat flared in agony, his voice hoarse and scratching.
"Two of our own, and four who were deflecting." Miles's voice was soft, but it did not soothe the blow in any way. Sam gripped his hair in response, his hands tightening into fists. He shook of Miles's hand on his shoulder and staggered to his feet, ignoring his brother's disapproval as he shouldered his way through the door and stiffly limped into the main body of the plane.
He swept his eyes across it, taking in the fact that every one of his Rebels had buddied-up with one of the new deflectors. Most were sitting down, bandaged or eating, while others were tending to those who needed help. Slowly, he made his way over to the far corner of the room, where six shapes were covered in a white cloth. As he weaved through those waiting there, silence stalked his every step, and each person he moved past reached out to brush their hand against some part of him, as if to confirm the fact their Unspeakable was alive and well. When he came to the two shapes of his fallen Rebels, he glanced up at those sitting beside them.
Kristina looked up with swollen eyes, reaching out to touch Sam. He twisted his hand so he was holding hers, rubbing the back of it with his thumb as he slowly drew back the cloth to display Maya's face, which had been cleaned and her hair brushed. Tenderly, he brushed a lock of hair off her face and smoothed his thumb across her cheekbone. Releasing a shuddering breath, he glanced over at Miles and bared his palm to him. Without hesitation, Miles sliced it open. Releasing Kristina's hand, he pressed his thumb into his palm and drew a bloody rune on Maya's forehead, one which spoke of her bravery and his pride in her. Kristina let out a choked sound of gratitude, which he waved away with a mummer of regret. He hesitated for a second, and then leaned down to pull her into a hug. The Rebel broke, clinging to her Unspeakable and sobbing, mumbles of confusion and pain slipping out. He rocked her as she cried, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he did so, until her cries tapered off and Overcast slipped into Sam's place with a respectful nod.
The Unspeakable exhaled shakily and dipped his head in response, taking a second to centre himself before moving on. He gripped Static's shoulder in sorrow, stroking his hair when the young Rebel leaned into him and soon soaked his bandage with tears for his sister. Sam mumbled soothingly to him, whispering a few random anecdotes of when he had trained with Slipstream when they both were just recruits, not even pretending to act like he wasn't affected. After the shaking Rebel had calmed slightly, Shadow slipped into place like Overcast had, pride in his eyes as he nodded at Sam. He nodded back, leaning down the draw the same bloodied rune on Slipstream's forehead and moving on with a final, sad smile at Static.
The noise in the room plummeted further when he drew a symbol for gratitude and sorrow on each of the fallen deflector's foreheads, each a young face he had never before seen, and never would again. Those who sat beside them looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes, flinching when he placed his hand on their shoulders. Each time they did so, the temperature in Sam's eyes dipped further and further, and when Sam gently uncovered one of their collarbones and saw the same brand that burned on his side, his hands trembled with fury. Taking a steadying breath, Sam spun on his heel, raising his chin when he saw the eyes of the room on him. When he spoke, the only sound that could be heard other than his voice was the low thrum of the engine.
"We lost two of our family today, and four who wanted to join us. Make no mistake; they were not simply caught in the crossfire, they were murdered. And they will be avenged."
As one, the room gave an echoing cry of agreement.
"We will not forget them, nor will we stand for their deaths. We will fight as strongly as we did today as, from this day onwards; we are at war with the Elites.
The cry of agreement grew louder, even as tears blurred the vision of some eyes.
"They want us dead. They want our allies dead. But we will not allow that. We will stand against them and we will triumph. We will triumph, because unlike the Elites who know what they must die for, we each have something that we must live for. I have a promised, a daughter, and brothers and sisters in arms. I will not stand aside and let those who are now nothing more than murders and cowards tear down the family I have built. And I know none of you will allow this either."
Those who could stand stood tall in accord, their shout echoing off the walls as they leaned on each other for strength.
"I cannot voice the pride I have for each of you. They way each of you fought today has made your ancestors proud, and I know each of you will continue to do so. I ask you to give me your all, and in return, I swear that I will protect each of you to the death and when our time comes, each of you will be able to walk confidently down the street with your face uncovered, sure in the knowledge that you and your own are completely safe from prosecution from the Elites."
His eyes blazed as Rebels cried in agreement.
It was another hour before Miles managed to find him again, cursing his ancestors as he did so. He had slipped into the crowd and managed to evade his brother until the blonde appeared behind him and yanked him up by the ear
"Ow ow ow! Son of a bitch! Miles-?!"
"You-you stupid, stubborn, selfless son of bitch-need to rest"
"I'm-"
"-I swear to the gods if you say 'fine'-!"
"-okay!"
One of the new recruits audibly gasped and pressed himself into his 'buddy's' (AKA, Watchdog's) side when Miles cuffed the Unspeakable around the back of his head. Striker glanced down at him, taking in his suddenly-terrified eyes, and pulled him off to the side. The normally-brusque Rebel pulled the younger into his chest, resting his chin on his curly black hair and running his hand up and down his back to soothe him. When the man's-'He's not even a man, for Hera's sake. Sixteen at most, he shouldn't have been fighting, hasn't even finished his training yet'-shaking stopped, he pulled back to look him, making sure the boy's grey eyes met his blue.
"You okay, kid?"
"Is he insane?" The boy hissed back at him, eyes darting away to where Sam and Miles were arguing quietly, flinching again when Overcast snuck up behind Sam and slapped him on the back of the head as well. "They are blatantly disrespecting him! Arguing with him in public! Do they want to be punished?!"
Pleading eyes flicked back to Striker's, his whole body jerking when he only saw sympathy in the Rebel's eyes. Instead of answering him, he simply gestured to the other Rebels watching the trio's interaction. The kid stared at them, blinking at the exasperated, but fond look they were giving to their protesting Unspeakable. A few were even openly laughing at his plight! He turned back to Striker, more than a little confused. The Rebel didn't take his eyes off his Unspeakable, raising his voice just a bit when he felt the eyes of other recruits on him, but still quiet enough that Sam could not hear him.
"Sam is not Fault Line. He does not follow the rules of discipline Fault Line has enforced. If you genuinely disrespect someone, he will force you to make a public, sincere apology and complete two hours of suicides, as well as being his sparring partner for a week. If it was an accident, he will explain to you how you disrespected the victim and you will again be forced to make a public, sincere apology, and perform thirty minutes of suicides, to remind you that it was a disrespect. He encourages each of those under his command to, when they are comfortable; remove their masks when among our allies. He asks us to give his advice, takes it onboard and more often than not, puts it into action. He honestly wants what is best for each of us. He is not Fault Line."
The recruits stayed silent in their disbelief, unable to begin to believe the jaded Rebel.
Sam watched silently as six dancing flames simmered down to nothing in the orange sunlight. His Rebels waded their way back to shore, salt water trickling from their arms, legs and eyes as their heads bowed in mourning. While Sam had been unconscious, Miles had contacted those almost at base and informed them of how many had been lost, and the Rebels who were with the Allies had silently made the arrangements for the memorial service. As they were on an island with sandy beaches, they were able to send those who fell off like they did in the days of old; set afloat and burned at sunset.
The Cybertronian Holo-forms, Soldiers, Rangers, Rebels and Recruits mingled in among each other, silent in their sorrow. This wasn't the place for prejudice or mistrust; this was time to pay respect to those who had given their lives for the survival of the many.
When the flames went out, the Rebels and Recruits seemed to release a breath as one, before turning and making their way up to the block of apartment flats sectioned off for them, leaning on each other for support. The Soldiers melted away quickly after, slipping into their own barracks, as they were on a two month rotation.
Miles let out a shuddering sigh, then threaded his fingers through Bee's and gently tugged. The Scout flicked his eyes over to where Sam still stood, hugging himself and eyes lost to something he couldn't see. However, Miles only shook his head in response, nodding up towards the housing complex and gently led Bee away, the Rangers and other Cybertronians following after a moment's hesitation.
Sam stood there, still lost in a daze as he gazed into the softly lapping water, the faces of the fallen staring back at him. It wasn't until he shivered and blinked out of his daze, that warm arm gently draped across his shoulders. Immediately, Sam curled into Orion's steady presence, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and relaxing minutely when his Promised wrapped his other arm around him and took his weight effortlessly.
"Query: Are you certain?"
"Yes, for Unicorn's sake! He's dead, mech, as is his youngling. He was murdered by the blasted 'Bots and those disgusting insects. Now, what are you going to do in return?"
"Retribution: Summon forces to Sol 3."
"Excellent."
Orion woke up to a hand lightly running through his hair and the soft scratch of pencil on paper. He yawned, blinking sleep from his eyes as he did so, and looked up at Sam. The human was propped up against the headboard, sketching lightly in his sketchbook and distractedly carding his fingers through Orion's hair. For a moment, the holo simply stared up at him, silently admiring his Promised bathed in the soft golden sunlight coming in through the ceiling-to-floor windows, before shifting to lean against the headboard with him. Snaking an arm around Sam's waist, he murmured happily when the human pressed a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth and rested his head on his shoulder, going back to his sketch.
After pressing a kiss against his hair, the mech glanced down at his drawing, spark squeezing tightly when he recognised the faces of those who had fallen. The two sat in silence until Sam finished his sketching and set the book to the side with a sigh, which caught in the middle of his throat. Orion gently threaded his fingers through Sam's and turned to press another reverent kiss against his hair softly as he whispered,
"I'm so thankful you came home."
"I wish they had too."
The mech nodded slowly, lightly de-tangling the knots in Sam's hair, pausing when his eyes fell on the patch of bare shoulder Sam was unknowingly displaying from when Orion's too-large shirt had slipped slightly. He cocked his head to the side and lightly traced the strange mark which, for some unknown reason, was sending sickening streaks of forbidding through him.
"Darlin'? What's that?"
Sam glanced down at the mark, then completely froze, entire body stiffening before electric blue glyphs exploded across his skin and danced in his eyes. Before the Prime could so much as move, they were gone, and Sam was staring up at him in shock.
"We need to talk"
Helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo o! :)
Okay, quick breakdown, yeah?
It's almost a full year until RotF, so give me...two more chapters? Then RotF! So...that will hopefully be the end of next week? Yes?
SUMMER! :)
ANYONE WHO CORRECTLY GUESSES THE ID'S OF THE PEOPLE FROM THE 'DREAMS' GET THE NEXT CHAPS DEDICATED TO THEM (AND NO, HUNTER, THE KID AND PROTEUS DO NOT COUNT)
SO HI! I missed you guys! Like, a LOT!
Hope you liked this chap, sorry it's a bit filler-y, but I wanted you to see how Sam leads the Rebels and such...next chap will have Decepticons in it! Promise!