Disclaimer: I do not own "Transformers" in any way, shape, or form. They are the property of Hasbro, Michael Bay, and all the other masters of the craft. I am just a humble college student and make no money from this.

The Moonlessnight: Here's the next installment. It's kind of a backtrack, I know, but it's a part of the story that insisted on being told. On a side note, I learned something while writing this.

Apparently, I watched G1 Transformers a long time ago…we're talking back when it first aired. According to my mom it was my favorite show back then. The only reason I didn't know was because…well…. I was only four when the last episode went off the air. To quote my mother, "You used to love the big truck guy and the little yellow VW, but the show went off the air for a while. When it came back on, they had changed it and you didn't like it as much any more." I'm a bigger TF fan than I realized. Who knew?

The Call

Eleven hours earlier...

Sprawled on the ground with his hands tucked behind his head, Optimus Prime watched and waited. Two hours had passed since Sam's incident and the human boy now slept soundly under Ratchet's care. In the space of that hour, Bumblebee had paced in front of Optimus exactly one hundred twenty seven times. Make that one hundred twenty eight. With a weary sigh the Autobot Prime sat up, draping an arm over his knee. "You are wearing a rut in the ground, Bumblebee. Pacing like a caged beast won't make him get better any faster. Sit down."

Trained to obey his commanding officer, Bumblebee stopped his pacing but he did not sit down right away. Instead, he stalked over to where Sam slept and laid down a short distance away. The boy murmured in his sleep and burrowed deeper into his blankets, likely trying to escape the sound of gears so close to him. Ratchet glanced up from his most recent scans, assuring himself of Sam's level of consciousness before locking optics with the worried young mech. "Start your recharge cycle, and I mean now Bumblebee."

"But I-."

"I don't want to hear it! I know you are long overdue for one. Besides which, Prime is right. Worrying will not make Sam well, and I for one do not want another patient any time soon. Now sleep!" Taking the hint, Bumblebee began booting the subroutines that triggered the Cybertronian version of sleep. Seeing that the mech was obeying, Ratchet's voice softened. "I'll wake you if his condition changes."

"Thanks," the Camaro murmured, the final subroutine coming online a few seconds later.

Watching the whole exchange, Prime nodded his thanks to Ratchet. "I can't say that I blame him for worrying, Ratch. Sam gave us all a scare."

Narrowing his optics slightly, Ratchet glared at Optimus. "Which is why you are avoiding your recharge cycle as well, yes?"

Chuckling, Prime lowered himself to the ground. "I'll admit that a nap would do me wonders. However…." Optimus let the word hang for a second, enjoying the look of annoyance spreading over Ratchet's face.

"However," came the impatient prompting of the medic.

"However, I have something to take care of first." Optimus raised his right hand and tapped a panel on his chest. The panel slid open revealing the sophisticated circuitry beneath. "Sam's parents are probably worried out of their processors right now. I intend to let them know that he's all right."

"Need a hand reprogramming your spare transmitter to their communications frequency?" The medic asked.

"No. It's all binary. This shouldn't take long."

Nodding in approval, Ratchet settled back on his heels to wait and took the time to brush up on his binary.

>> > > > > > > > > > >

Six radio stations and two television channels later, Ratchet took a shot at cracking the human communications network. The task became much easier when he realized the communications feeds were being routed through two satellites instead of through the local towers. He typed in the last line of code and prepared to activate the transmitter when an odd sound caught his attention. It was an odd, ringing coupled with a buzz that drifted from the still form of Sam Witwicky. A crease appearing between the medic's optics, Ratchet hastily closed Prime's chest panel and went to investigate.

"What is it?" Optimus queried, rising up on his elbow to peer at the bundle of blankets. The sound halted for a moment, then repeated in an insistent manner. Reminded of the alarms that often sounded in the medical wards of the Cybertronian E.R., Optimus felt a sliver of fear work its way through his processor. It did not show on his face, but it was there nevertheless.

Very carefully peeling back Sam's blankets and shifting lose articles of clothing, Ratchet replied in understandably distracted tones. "It's not the boy himself if that's what you're thinking. Humans are incapable of producing such sounds…or at least I don't think they can." Sam stirred, eyes flickering open for the briefest of seconds and he muttered in his sleep. Ratchet hesitated, his audio receptors picking out the word 'phone' in the midst of other incoherent syllables. The mechanical version of a smile lit his optics and he turned his attention to the boy's belt. There, clipped to the thin strip of leather, he found the source of the sound…a Nokia cell phone. Nudging it free with his finger, Ratchet soon had the phone in hand. Now, he only had to answer its summons…a feat easier said than done.

Producing the Transformer version of tweezers from one of his many compartments, Ratchet set about his task. As he worked, he talked, "It's a cell phone, a human communication device. If I am reading this display right, Sam's mother is calling." The phone flipped open, revealing its many keys in glowing splendor. Ratchet attempted to press the appropriate 'send' button, missed it, and cursed. "Slag burned piece of scrap…. Next to this, neural circuitry is simple." He finally managed to hit the button as the phone stopped ringing. His frustration was palpable.

Standing, Prime walked up behind his friend and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You did your best, Ratchet." The medic nodded, feeling as though he had lost a patient instead of missed a phone call. Noticing his dour mood, Prime carefully took the phone from him and laid it on the ground near Sam's head. Standing once again, he put an arm around the medic. "What say you and I make a call before that phone rings again and wakes your patient?"

Chuckling softly, Ratchet agreed before adding, "Considering how well he tolerated my prodding just now, I would say that boy can sleep through anything, but just to be safe…." Bringing Prime's spare transmitter online with two or three quick movements, Ratchet smiled. "Let's be quick about it."

>> > > > > > > > > >

Bumblebee came online to the sound of Optimus' frantic voice. For a moment, he thought that something had happened to Sam but his fears were quickly abated by Prime's words. "No, Mrs. Witwicky. I am not from 'that group of suit wearing, flower trampling windbags'." The Camaro realized in an instant who Optimus was holding a conversation with and fought the urge to laugh.

"Yes, I am an officer of sorts. …. No. Your son isn't in any trouble. I asked him to come. …. Yes, I know he's sick. No, I didn't know that when I asked him to come here. If I had, do you think he'd be here?" There was a long pause as Judy Witwicky launched into a lecture involving the responsibilities of law enforcement officials and missed curfews, during which Prime shifted his feet uncomfortably. Bumblebee snickered quietly at the sight, earning himself a glare from Ratchet.

"You think that's funny?" The medic's words scrolled across his HUD.

"Yes," Bumblebee replied via text.

"Good. You get to deal with her from here on out." This text bore Optimus' seal and Bumblebee balked. He had not noticed the communications entering party chat.

Ratchet!

Bumblebee shot the medic a sour look as Prime cut in on Sam's mother. "Mrs. Witwicky, I offer my humble apology for the worry I caused you. I thought Sam had told you about the meeting, but apparently he didn't." Prime sighed as Judy loudly attested to the truth of that statement. "Well, if it's any condolence, Sam is an exceptionally bright boy. In fact, that is the reason I asked him out here tonight. …. Yes, I do understand curfew restrictions, but these were special circumstances. You see, your son has been accepted into a special work study program offered by my team and we wanted to give him the results in person.

"What kind of program?" Optimus ran a quick scan of the internet and replied after only a few seconds of hesitation. "It's the Ride-Along program, Mrs. Witwicky. Over the next two weeks, your son will ride along with various professionals, from medics to officers like me. I assure you it is a great learning experience for all involved." Optimus paused, expecting another outburst from the emotional female, but one never came. Instead, he heard an unmistakable squeal of joy. "I'll take that as verbal consent for your son's participation in the program. …. I'm afraid he's sleeping at the moment, but I'll tell him you said so. We'll send him home tomorrow to pick up a few supplies, but after that he'll be staying with us. It's a total emersion program. …. I will personally guarantee his safety. You have my word on that. ... Of course I will, Mrs. Witwicky, and a good night to you, too."

Prime cut the transmission with a weary sigh. "Ratchet, that woman is exhausting."

Ratchet nodded, "I think we found the source of Sam's insomnia. Imagine keeping a secret from her." The medic shuddered. "It's enough to make one's circuit go cold."

"Indeed," Optimus answered. He turned to Bumblebee then, placing a hand on the mech's shoulder and kneeling slightly to be at eye level. "I have a mission for you that is of the utmost importance."

"I will complete the task to the best of my abilities, sir. …What is my mission?"

In absolute seriousness, Optimus answered: "Protecting Sam from his mother if she ever finds out we lied to her."

The Moonlessnight: With that, I am crawling off to a corner to die. I think three all-nighters in a row just might have been overkill, but at least I've got the ball rolling now. I think the posts might slow down a little from here on in though. I can't keep up this pace without ending up like poor Sam. .

I feel like the characters slipped beyond my control in the end there and I'm really hoping they aren't terribly OOC. It's just what hit the page. If it is too bad (which it probably is, but I can't see straight enough to catch it), I will come back and edit this chapter. Until then, enjoy it as it is and don't forget to review. Until the next post!