I placed a seventh tally mark on my calendar, went for a jog in the exercise yard, ate breakfast, and took a shower all in a preoccupied daze. I was trying to get the nerve up to contact the Ancient Primes. I'd only initiated contact with them once – when Optimus was in stasis and I had to get a spark to bring him back. What if I did it during the day and then got stuck like Optimus did that one time? If they couldn't wake me up, would the guards think I was drugged again?
I could try it at night, but then I'd miss out on a bond dream with Optimus, and that's when he had the most time for me. I wanted to spend my time with him escaping the jail, not venturing into the Well of All Sparks.
After lunch, it was Dad's turn to visit me. With Mom still on my mind after yesterday, I asked him how she was really doing. He assured me that, after meeting Raquel and with all of them taking turns visiting me, Mom was doing okay. Or at least, she wasn't picking fights with my friends anymore. "She's still ready to trash your car, though," he added.
Changing that subject, I asked where they were staying.
"We're at the Travelers' Oasis RV park not far from Nellis," he said. "And you wouldn't believe the stars at night. Just gorgeous and they look close enough to touch."
The thought of being able to just step outside and look at the stars suddenly made me get all choked up.
Optimus sensed that, of course, and his concern swelled over the bond. Catching the edge of my thoughts, he said, You will be free again, Sam. Soon.
I know, I answered. And thanks to our bond, I've got it better than anybody else in here. I'm still in jail, though.
Dad noticed, too, and he surprised me when he threw an arm around me at the same time Optimus wrapped me up in a hug of the heart. Between the love of my father and my brother, I was able to pull myself back together.
"Thanks," I said, a little shaky.
"Just keep your nose clean," he said, shaking my shoulders just a little. "And your freebie lawyer will get you out of here in no time.
When our time was up, the guard escorting me stopped at an occupied cell. I glanced at him in confusion, but he unlocked the door and slid it wide for me.
"I don't share a cell," I protested.
Scowling, he said, "You do now."
Bewildered, I looked from the burly, tattooed tough guy on the opposite bunk to the empty one on my side of the room and saw the piece of paper with six tally marks. Either this was my cell, or they'd moved my stuff into this one.
I didn't resist when the guard grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the open door. "Come on, I don't have all day!"
Still reeling a little, I walked to my bunk, moved my writing materials to the floor, and laid down on it.
Sam? Optimus' worry mingled with my own nervousness.
They put another guy in my cell.
Instantly my brother was alert, working his way into my mind so he could see through my eyes. I threw the proverbial door open and let him in.
"So…" my cellmate started, staring idly at the ceiling. "What you in for?"
I'd fielded this one enough on the first day that I had no problem with it. "Murder, but I'm innocent. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
He snorted noncommittally. "What's your name?"
"Sam."
"Sam what?"
"Witwicky."
At that, he rolled up onto his elbow and met my gaze. "You got a famous name."
"Yeah, you could say that."
"Are you him?"
"Him who?"
He glared at me. "My sister and her two kids died in the 2007 attack, so don't shit with me. You know what I'm talking about."
Give him a direct answer, Optimus said. It will be a show of respect.
"Yeah, I'm him. And I'm sorry about your sister and her kids, man," I said, trying to sound sincere instead of just freaked out.
He snorted again and collapsed back onto his bunk.
Optimus was frowning mentally. He didn't like this development, not one bit. Find out more about him, Sam.
I cleared my throat to make sure my voice wouldn't crack. "What are you in for?"
"Parole violation. I got caught with a hunting knife ."
Great, I snarked to Optimus, but he was still focused on the new guy.
What's his name?
"You got a name?"
Still looking casually at the ceiling, he answered, "Nate Griggs. I'd say 'Pleased to meet ya,' but I ain't."
Knowing it'd be Optimus' next question, I asked, "What'd you do to get parole?"
"Murder. I didn't deal well after... Got drunk and high one night and went out looking for a fight. Found one and killed the guy." He rolled his head to the side to look at me again. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, too, but I ain't innocent."
"Oh," I said, more quaver to my voice than I intended.
The steely determination of a Prime welled up in me, pouring into my spark from Optimus'. You will not come to harm, Sam. I will extract you first.
A part of me seriously considered taking him up on the brick-by-brick option, but instead, I asked, Can you signal Raquel? Let her know about this? We're following her plan, so let's at least run this past her before you break me out of here.
Optimus still eyed my cellmate beadily through the bond, but I mentally nudged him. I won't let my guard down around him. Just go. The sooner Raquel knows, the better.
Agreed, he unhappily rumbled, and I felt him step out of my head, though he left the bond wide open in case I needed him. His thoughts were louder – more like a babbling stream than a soft murmur – but I took comfort in the fierce protectiveness that swept them along.
Trying to act nonchalant, I sat up in bed and reached for the writing stuff again. There was no way I could compose a letter to my mom now, not when a convicted murderer with a chip on his shoulder was just a few feet away. I pretended to, though, and doodled while watching the guy with my peripheral vision.
Mostly he just laid there. For a while he whistled off-key, but I didn't comment and eventually he stopped. I idly wondered if he'd been doing it to annoy me.
At one point he actually drifted off and started snoring and I risked interrupting Optimus. It had been more than an hour since he'd left to talk to Raquel. Any word from her?
Not yet. Her schedule says she's in a trial right now, but I've notified Iron Will and he has left her several texts and voicemails. She will be in contact with us soon. How are you holding up?
Other than having to put up with his tone-deaf whistling, I'm fine. Optimus was freaking out a little, so I let him see my memories to reassure him.
He was still uneasy, though. You are an at-risk prisoner, Sam. The jail's own internal policies dictate that you should have your own cell if at all possible, and there are other beds currently available. It is not a coincidence that he is in your cell.
That made me swallow hard, and his worry wasn't helping my own state of mind. The library, I finally decided. I can get away from him for an hour if I go there.
Go, Optimus whole-sparkedly agreed.
As soon as I was safely hidden behind a stack of books, he said, I need to learn more about this Nathaniel Griggs.
I heard and felt his not-question and let my own increasing confidence swell across the bond. I was safe here. Focus on that, then. I'm fine. Just let me know if you hear from Raquel.
Of course.
I couldn't find any books that looked particularly interesting, so I ended up grabbing the first volume of an encyclopedia and just reading mindlessly, flipping pages if the article was too technical or too boring. I was all the way up to Athens before I felt Optimus' spike of alarm.
Problem?
Perhaps.
I grimaced at the book in front of me. You don't feel like it's a "perhaps." You can't lie to me.
His resignation tempered some of the fear, and it slowly simmered down into worry. I believe Nathaniel Griggs is colluding with Judge Snider.
Colluding with my judge? How?
Uncertain, he thought, and it frustrated him to no end. Griggs was brought in for a hearing yesterday, Judge Snider had a conversation with him in chambers, and when they came back out, Snider ordered Griggs held on $10,000 bail until trial.
But he already had a trial, I protested. He violated parole. Isn't it an automatic thing?
Close but not quite, Optimus said, the worry giving way to genuine puzzlement. Given the facts of the case, Snider should have been able to make his ruling at that hearing, but instead it appears he's stalling. I believe he intentionally put Griggs in your cell. To what end, however, I do not know.
There was a tickle in his mind – somebody pinging him over the comm – and I mentally backed out of his head, giving him a little privacy.
I didn't like where this was going, and it seemed to be worse and worse with each new discovery. Griggs was dangerous, and he was here on Judge Snider's say-so. Maybe. I remembered from something Raquel had said about one of the other judges wanting an explanation in-chambers, and I assumed it meant off-the-record. There was no way to know what agreement was made between Snider and Griggs. Was Griggs supposed to kill me and then Snider would just give him a slap on the wrist? Or maybe even let him go? Or was he just supposed to spy on me or something?
Slag. I would have to sleep with that guy just a few feet away. No way would the guards or even the Autobots be able to protect me if my cellmate decided to come after me. Frowning, I returned the "A" volume to the shelf and reached for the "B."
I was on the entry about bananas when relief surged across my brother-bond. I closed my eyes and nudged Optimus. He happily let me in, so that I was seeing through his optics. He was in the court parking lot in a stall next to Ironhide, who had his holoform active and was talking to Raquel.
"That's highly unusual," she was saying. "Judges might review evidence in chambers, or even talk to witnesses, but to speak with the defendant off the record like that…"
Aaron Hyde grunted. "It would be an easy way to get an assassin close enough…"
Raquel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Did you find something that makes you think he's an assassin?"
"He's a convicted murderer," Hyde pointed out.
Raquel shrugged. "When he's drunk and high, yes. I'd probably be one, too, if I was that messed up. I suspect he's just a plant, Mr. Hyde, sent there to try to get something incriminating out of Sam."
I was glad that was her professional opinion, but there was no way to know for sure if she was right or if Ironhide was.
"And if you're wrong?" Hyde demanded.
She frowned thoughtfully and glanced back toward the courthouse. "I wish we had someone on the inside, too. We're being outmaneuvered here."
We do, Optimus thought and sent a comm to Ironhide.
"Samuel's our man on the inside," Hyde reminded her. "And he's got a constant link to Prime. You're the one who has communication blackouts."
She tilted her head with a little smile. "You make it sound almost medical."
Hyde snorted, and Raquel flashed her fangirl grin before sobering a little. "There's no helping it – when I'm in court, I'm unavailable, period. I'll prepare a motion for a court order that Sam be kept in his own cell and get it submitted today before the court closes. That's the best I can do right here and now, but remember it will be Judge Snider that will have to grant the motion. He's not likely to, but at least it will make Sam's predicament a matter of court record."
"So we're back to square one," Hyde unhappily rumbled, and glanced at Optimus.
She also looked his way. "What does Sam prefer?"
My fingers idly tapped the encyclopedia in front of me as I weighed my options. The Autobots springing me would blow the lid off this whole situation. At best, it'd be a PR nightmare for NEST and for when the Autobots went public. At worst, it could get Optimus or one of the other 'bots hurt. We stick to Raquel's plan, at least for now.
Optimus relayed my answer to Ironhide, who then told Raquel, and all the while my brother was radiating his disapproval.
"Tell him, 'thank you,'" Raquel said to Optimus.
"We will," Hyde promised her.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I jerked to my feet. It was just a librarian, but he was staring owlishly at my reaction. "Sorry," I muttered, still trying to get my bearings after being ripped out of Optimus' perspective like that. I sat back down again. "I must have drifted off. You startled me."
"That's okay," he said, "I was just checking to see if you needed help finding something."
I looked up at him and said, "Actually, there is one thing. Do you have a legal dictionary here?"
"Of course," he answered, leading the way.
If "in chambers" didn't mean "off the record," I didn't want to look like an idiot.
Less than half an hour later, though, I was sitting in the attorney meeting room again, Optimus rather curiously eavesdropping in my head. Raquel smiled a little when she saw me but didn't say anything until the guard closed the door behind himself.
"What's up?" I asked, taking her smile to be a good sign.
"It occurred to me as I was driving to my office that I didn't have any official communication from you about your cellmate. It would look kind of funny for me to file a motion about something you couldn't possibly have told me."
I blinked and then started chuckling. "Yeah, I guess so."
I hadn't thought of that, either, Optimus added, more chagrined than amused.
"Besides," she said, sliding into the seat opposite me, "I figured I should hear it from your own mouth if you're having problems, not rely on somebody else's say-so."
"You can trust Optimus," I reflexively said.
"I do," she firmly answered. "It's just one of those weird lawyer-ethics things."
"Ah."
She sobered, looking me in the eye. "Is he giving you any trouble directly? Griggs, that is."
"Not really, it's just…" I trailed off, trying to put into words how unnerving he was.
"He shouldn't be there."
I sighed in relief that she understood. "Exactly."
"Has he said or done anything – anything – that has made you feel frightened or threatened?"
I snorted and a flicker of a smile crossed her lips. "I'm looking for evidence here, Sam, not trying to make you feel like a pansy. Help me make the case that you shouldn't have this guy in your cell."
"Oh." I frowned at the table as I tried to remember everything he'd said. Optimus helpfully recalled the memories he had of Griggs, too. "Not exactly." I looked up to meet her gaze. "He did swear once, but not at me, really. He did make a big deal out of my name, though. I mean, he recognized my name and wanted to make sure I was that Sam Witwicky."
She nodded slowly. "Anything else?"
The only other time I'd seen him had been at lunch. "He has friends here in the jail. I mean, he's been here before so it's not a surprise, but… he has back-up if he wants it."
She glanced away, staring thoughtfully at the wall for a moment before suddenly asking, "Is Optimus aware of our conversation?"
"Yeah, he's right here."
Looking back at me, she said, "I need to know if Griggs has any gang affiliations. I hate to ask you to do all the leg work for me, but this is a pro bono case and I have other clients, and…"
"They'll do anything they can to help," I promised, knowing by his feelings what Optimus' answer would be before he could even think it.
We want to help, Optimus added for the record. Being left to simply observe is…not how we normally operate.
I smiled at the eagerness I felt from him and relayed the message.
Raquel flashed that fan-girl grin. "I imagine not." Rising to her feet, she added, "I need to go if I want to get that motion filed before the court closes, but I'll check on you again in the morning. That would be a great time for you to fill me in on anything the Autobots have found overnight. Deal?"
I grinned as I stood up, too, feeling better than I had all day. "Deal."
I ate by myself like usual at dinner. Normally, I would go to my cell as quickly as possible after that and retreat into a bond dream with Optimus. Griggs was still eating and talking, so I decided to take advantage of the cell being empty. I laid down on my cot and reached out to my brother.
Instantly I had his attention. I am not certain sleeping is in your best interest tonight, Sam.
I can't just stay awake until Raquel gets me out of here – I need to recharge a little more often than that.
I know. We lapsed into silence, and I tried to mentally look over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the outside world again. My brother was brooding, but all he was looking at, really, was the dumpster across from him in the parking lot. Could have gone for better scenery, at least.
He mentally snorted. When it comes to parking downtown with my Blackbird armor, beggars can't be choosers. But I believe I might have a solution. I will be unable to join you in your dreams tonight, but it will allow me to monitor the situation inside the jail and ensure your safety.
His growing confidence (and waning worry) did a lot to help me ease up, too. Whatever it takes, Big Guy.
Then sleep well, Sam. I'll remain close by.
Will do. Thanks.
And with that, his thoughts…quieted, surprisingly so, when I couldn't feel a significant block on our bond. What had been a murmur became a hum so low it was almost a soft buzz. I was kicking myself, then, for not asking what his master plan was before he mentally went wherever he'd gone.
Sighing to myself, I shifted my shoulders and tried to fall asleep.
It was a lot harder than it should have been. For one thing, usually Optimus went into recharge about the same time that I went to sleep. We were synched most of the time, and I guess I'd gotten used to it. But whatever he was doing, recharging wasn't it. I could feel that he was awake and…worrying over some kind of problem. For another, it wasn't lights out, yet, and without my brother's help, there was no way I'd fall asleep until it was dark.
And then I realized it was the perfect time for me to reach out to the Dynasty of the Primes.
That thought was enough to make my eyes open wide. The fear I felt wasn't rational, I tried to tell myself. Yes, they were the freaky-looking ghosts of dead aliens, but they were also my brothers. Still, they'd almost driven me crazy before the Battle of Giza and I had to basically die to talk to them, even on those times when they came looking for me instead of the other way around. Sure, I had visited them and come back a few times now, but that was still no guarantee I'd make it out alive again.
Optimus felt my fear, of course, but whatever he was doing wouldn't let him even put a coherent thought together. He wrapped me up in his brotherly affection, though, and I took a slow, deep breath. It's for the greater good, I reminded myself. If we can't get at least Wheeljack here – and soon – the solar harvester project is dead in the water.
My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of my cellmate, and I sat up, still feeling too uncomfortable around him to be lying around.
This time he had a curious smile for me. "Ya sat by yourself at dinner."
I shrugged, thrown off by how friendly he was being, but not even Griggs' arrival was enough to make Optimus focus. I'd have to muddle through on my own. "I don't exactly have a lot in common with most of the guys here." Realizing how stuck-up that sounded, I added, "And like you said, I have a famous name. You're not the only one who lost loved ones that day."
He looked down, fighting the flicker of grief I saw in his eyes, and then gave me another, forced smile. "You could join us next time."
Where in the Pit was this going? "Maybe," I said, not daring to turn down the invitation outright. "I wouldn't want to horn in on your circle of friends."
He snorted and flopped down on his cot. "You make it sound chummier than it is."
Unsure what I should say to that, I instead reached for my pencil and paper.
"Writing a novel?" he guessed.
"Letter to my mom," I answered. "She's a helicopter parent as it is, and having me stuck here has to be driving her nuts." Which no doubt meant she was driving the guys with the guns and the alien walking weapons nuts, too.
"Got a girl?" Griggs asked.
"Naw," I answered, remembering how gorgeous she looked the last time I'd laid eyes on her, "I've got a woman."
That made him laugh in a way that actually seemed genuine. "Tell me about her."
"Her name's Mikaela, and she's a grease monkey, believe it or not…" This seemed a safe topic, so I went on about her for the better part of an hour before it occurred to me to ask him, "Do you have a girl?"
"Yeah," he quietly said. "She's a good woman, too. She's expecting my baby in four months."
"Congratulations!" I immediately blurted out.
"I'll miss the birth if I'm stuck in here," he muttered, and then waved away a fly that was buzzing near him.
"That would suck," I commiserated.
"That's why I gotta do everything I can to get out before then," he softly answered, reaching for one of the jail slippers he'd kicked off. Eyes locked on the fly, he slowly lifted the shoe to swat it. The fly moved erratically, zig-zagging around the room.
I figured Optimus should know this new detail about Nate Griggs going to be a dad, but when I reached out to him, all I could sense was that low hum again. I tried pushing deeper into Optimus' mind, to see through his optics and figure out what was going on, but all I saw were fractured images that swirled in dizzying patterns. Had he been injured somehow?
The fly landed on the ceiling next to the light fixture, and Optimus' attention snapped into focus. I sighed in relief as his deep, reassuring voice filled my spark. I see that Griggs is back.
Yeah, I answered. Where have you been?
I told you – observing to ensure your safety.
A sudden suspicion filled me as Griggs stood and stalked closer to the annoying insect on the ceiling. You're the fly, aren't you.
His pleased amusement brushed against my disbelief. My holoform is currently using a housefly format, yes.
Before I could form a coherent response to that, Griggs swung his shoe. To my relief, the fly – my brother – Optimus buzzed away. My mind boggled, and I blinked and tried to wrap my head around what was going on.
Griggs swore under his breath and lay back down on his cot.
I knew the human holoforms took a lot of work to figure out, but the Blackbird flight tech probably helped Optimus a bit when it came to evasive maneuvers in fly-form. Still, I was mentally twitching at the idea of him stuffing his consciousness into something that…primitive. And what would it do to Optimus if Griggs did squish his holoform?
Fortunately, Optimus got wise and landed on my side of the cell, perching on the wall above my bed. I nudged him over the bond as soon as he'd landed. What good does this do anybody? I mean, what are you going to do if he tries to murder me in my sleep? Dive-bomb him?
The steely determination of a Prime swelled from his spark to mine. I would switch to my human holoform format and beat him within an inch of his life.
I sobered when I realized how seriously he meant that. Still, it was pretty impossible to take him too seriously when he was literally a fly on the wall. Or you could turn into a red-and-blue man-eating tiger.
True, he allowed, not displeased with the suggestion. If I can find one to scan.
The lights went out, and I pushed my pencil and paper under the bed again. With my brother bizarrely standing guard, I closed my eyes and relaxed.
