Author's Note: This is the revised chapter 8.
Chapter 8
Samuel James Whitwicky was not the toughest person in the world, at all. Although, the point could be argued seeing as he had survived multiple alien invasions and lived to tell the tale. But, that was sheer adrenaline and luck, in his opinion. So Sam would tell you that he was not the toughest person ever. He had passed out several times before for the stupidest reasons, although none recently. Sam even screamed once when Miles broke his arm, although the injured boy had not made even a peep. He got squeamish at the sight of blood, and zombie movies didn't always sit well with his stomach.
Sam did not, however, have a problem with Transformers, or their "innards" and "blood". Except the time that one had been inserted in his brain, but that was completely understandable. He only got a little creeped out by the interfacing talk he had with Ratchet, and that was partly because the medic had brought Bee into the conversation. When it came to Transformers, nothing about them made him extremely queasy or feel the need to faint.
Yet, it happened. As soon as Red Alert's spark was extinguished, he felt his stomach clench, and the room seemed to sway. His breathing became erratic, his spark pulsing violently in his chest. Energon pooled on the floor beneath the lifeless form, and the few bots around him were covered in pink specks.
Sam's eyes widened as he watched all the mechs ignore it, where as he could not focus on anything but that. He toppled to his knees as he tried to wipe the image of it from his mind, one hand holding him up while the other clenched around the part of his shirt in front of his spark chamber- or at least where it was hidden under his skin. He gasped for air as though he still had lungs, and they were not getting in any oxygen. It certainly felt like it. His insides hurt; they felt like they were on fire and being stomped on all at the same time.
No one was paying Sam any attention at the moment, though, so no one saw him writhing in pain upon the ground. The others were busy fighting off the intruders or getting his family and friends to safety. Sam could fend for himself, was what most of them thought. He prayed to Primus or whoever was willing to listen at the moment that someone would pick up on his life signal going haywire, or they would turn and see him beside the couch.
Bee. He internally whined, wishing he had the strength to open his comm. Bee, I need you! He whimpered, curling into a ball upon the floor as the pain became positively unbearable and he began to feel his consciousness slipping from his grasp. Bee... Just as the black veil began to block his vision, his optics made contacts with Bee's. Sam forced a weak smile upon his face as he curled up tighter, shaking violently with the waves of pain that racked through his lean frame. Bee quickly turned back to his opponent, finishing off the 'Con before trying to push through the crowd to Sam. As he neared, he saw the smile slip away and the gentle blue glow leave Sam's optics.
The cry that echoed through NEST base was the saddest sound anyone ever heard.
. . .
Sam slipped back into awareness what felt like seconds later, optics onlining to the most amazing sight ever. Before him was a sky full of bright stars as far as the eye could see. It was flawless, nothing like the sky he saw growing up in the city, or whenever he would visit the overlook. It was as if...
... He was actually in space.
"It's beautiful, is it not?"
He spun around, as fast as he could in the vacuum of space that is. His optics searched everywhere, scanning for life signs desperately. But he found none, none at all. "Where are you?" He called, looking all about the abyss.
"I am everywhere, youngling." The voice resonated about him, sending a slight chill down his spine as he slowed his spastic movements. A calming feeling flowed through his spark and he blinked confusedly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, my child."
"Y-your child?" Sam questioned with a hammering in his spark. "What do you mean 'your child'? I-I'm the son of-"
"No." The voice boomed as it interrupted him, causing the techno-organic to freeze. "You were once a human child in form, but you were always one of my children, Samuel. It has always been your destiny." The voice ended in a much gentler tone.
"Destiny?" Sam asked back, being the questioning person he is. Everything he ever did involving the transformers seemed to go back to destiny. The issue with the allspark was destiny, his death when the Fallen had attacked was destiny, and it seemed that now that impaling his heart with the last remaining allspark fragment was destiny as well. Would he ever get a choice? Was his whole life planned out for him by whoever this being claiming to be his 'father' was? "Did anyone think that maybe I'd like a choice in this destiny?"
The voice answered this question softly, in an almost detached manner. "No one gets a choice, little one. Do not feel as if this treatment is unfair to you." Sam frowned at this, to which the voice responded once more, "It may be displeasing right now, but it will get better, youngling. I can promise you this."
"How do I know I can trust you? I don't even know who you are," The young man griped a bit at the invisible being, still displeased with the answer and circumstances in which he ended up here. He should be back at base, helping keep the others safe! Instead, he was here.
"Do you humans not put such blind faith in your God? Can you not do the same with me, my child?" The ambiguous answer was offered to Sam as a series of other questions, not really helping him come to any conclusions.
Until, of course, it all clicked into place.
"Primus."
