By Tomorrow's Grace
Chapter I: Ambush
If anyone were to ask Sam how he was doing in the weeks following the events of Egypt, he would have put up a too-cheerful smile, lied through his teeth , and gritted out that he "just fine." And given the number of times he heard this question, it was something of an oddity that no one seemed to doubt his answer.
Perhaps he had just gotten good at lying. A display of his usual happy-go-lucky attitude and thoughtless rambling was enough to persuade most of the bots and humans who had asked after his welfare. Bumblebee and his parents were more difficult to convince but they too relented after a month or so. It wasn't that Sam was masochistic or anything, but he'd figured that everyone had their own problems to resolve in the aftermath of the Fallen. The Autobots had to arrange passing rites for Jetfire, not to mention Ratchet had his hands full with repairs and Optimus was given the arduous tasks of damage control and diplomacy with the human government. Lennox and the other soldiers were busy trying to negotiate the re-establishment of NEST and find a more tolerable replacement for Galloway. Mikaela had returned to work at her father's repair shop, and Leo was catching up with his courseload while basking in the attention of having had his face broadcasted worldwide (mostly the latter).
And physically speaking, Sam was doing alright. He'd recently gotten the cast taken off his hand, and the scrapes and burns from Egypt had healed over by now. He was sleeping eight hours a day (a rare thing for a college student) and eating well.
It was just the mental aspect that Sam wasn't too confident on.
All Spark.
On the return trip to Diego Garcia, Doc Hatchet and the army medics had checked him up and down, inside and out with a barrage of medical equipment and Cybertronian scanners before declaring him clear of all side effects of the Cube's radiation.
He knew better.
Sam wasn't sure if he was dreaming.
The mirages around him were too coherent to be a dream, yet certainly too bizarre to be reality.
He was…floating, for lack of a better word, suspended quite some distance above the floor, in a room with glass walls. Beyond the glass he caught a glimpse of a magnificent golden city, its skyline composed not of skyscrapers but strange metal spires that rotated and whirled into graceful leaf-like structures before folding in on themselves again.
But he had no time to consider this, for his attention turned against his will towards something below him. He was surprised to find two figures kneeling on the floor, one of them cradling something to its chest.
They were Cybertronians, he was sure, like Bumblebee and the others. Yet, these two looked different. Their bodies carried no trace of Earth vehicles, no car hood on the chest or door wings on the back or any other recognizable pieces of a familiar alt mode. No, these Cybertronians appeared as alien as the city outside.
"All Spark," one of the mechs began, and Sam was so bewildered by this declaration he almost missed what he said next. "We come to you in the hopes that you may grant our request today."
Was the All Spark in this room somewhere? Sam tried to turn around to check, but it was as though he were welded in place; his body simply would not move.
"We ask that you bless us with one of your own, a young spark to care for and guard." The mech fell silent, and his partner stepped forward to present the object he had been holding so protectively.
If Sam had been puzzled before, he was absolutely dumbfounded now. He had never seen an…infant Cybertronian, for there was nothing else this strange offering could be. It was tiny, only a fraction the size of either of the two mechs, the proportions strangely childlike and the entire body a uniform bronze color. And yet, it was perfectly still, the optics dull in a way that Sam had come to associate with offlined or…deactivated mechs.
Was it…dead…? The thought horrified him in ways he did not understand, but he sensed that this was not the case. No, not dead, simply…not alive yet.
"We vow vigilance, that this young one may grow in safety under our protection." The words, though soft, carried an undeniable core of strength and conviction, and though he still hadn't the faintest idea what was going on, Sam felt something in himself nodding along in approval at the open sincerity of this pair's promises.
"We will love him as you do, and guide him in your stead. This we swear, unto the fading of our sparks."
Sam wasn't alone anymore. Something nudged his consciousness, warm and eager, brimming with joyful impatience. An imperceptible sadness tugged his heart, but there was fondness and pride too as he gathered the young one to himself before letting it go…
When Sam looked up again, his clock read three hours later than it should have. He blinked, bewildered, and looked around the quiet interior of his dormitory. Where was Leo? Hadn't he been in the room just seconds ago, delivering a one-sided rant about what an ass their Astronomy professor was? The sky outside his window was darkened, though Sam could have sworn that he had just been squinting from the sunlight reflecting off his laptop.
It was with a heavy burden of dread that he realized what had happened.
Swallowing the knot of fear bubbling up in his throat, Sam slumped forward in his seat and dug the heel of one palm into his forehead. Not again…
Ever since his return from Egypt, he had been noticing…gaps in his memory. It had started small: he'd be leaving his dorm and suddenly find himself halfway across campus, or taking notes in class one moment only to find that the topic had skipped forward the next.
He never knew what happened during the missing time; it was as though someone had taken a giant eraser and wiped out little bits of his life. At first, this didn't worry him much. He'd figured anyone would be a little traumatized by Egypt and these lapses would disappear once things slowed down to something resembling normality.
They didn't. If anything, the episodes only came more frequently, and it had become increasingly difficult to attribute them to absent-mindedness.
This was the first time one had lasted three hours though. Sam's insides squirmed uncomfortably, panic churning his stomach like a biting, wriggling rat. Three hours gone from his memory, just like that. Anything could have happened in three hours. He could have stripped off his clothes and gone streaking down the girls' hall for all he knew.
…he hoped that wasn't what happened.
A sudden IM chime from his laptop drew his attention, and Sam gladly smothered this train of thought to check the message.
BitchinCamaro: Sam?
Cool relief wrapped around Sam's thudding heart, and he could not help the slight smile uncurling around his mouth. Like the other Autobots, Bumblebee had his share of responsibilities after Egypt and so he was often gone from Sam's side, called away for duty for days at a time. Yet he never failed to check up on his charge, wherever he might be.
Ladiesman217: i'm here bee
BitchinCamaro: Are you well?
Ladiesman217: yeah, what about you?
BitchinCamaro: I am fine, Sam. I will be back tomorrow morning, noon at the latest.
The panic-rat hiding in his belly uncoiled a little. Bumblebee would be back soon, and even if his guardian knew nothing of these memory lapses, there was a deep certainty that nothing terrible could happen as long as Bumblebee was near.
Ladiesman217: that's great bee
BitchinCamaro: This will be the last scheduled call for the rest of the month. I should be able to remain with you on campus until your academic recess.
Sam could have kissed the screen. Winter Break was in late December—that left him the better part of a month and the holidays to spend with Bumblebee. Luckily for Sam, he was spared the humiliation of gushing forth his feelings like a sappy girl by the timely beeping of his phone.
He fished it out of his bag and flipped through the buttons.
From: Leo
found a great house party south of state st. u coming?
9:37P Fri Dec04
Sam paused. He hadn't been to any parties since that disastrous frat party his first night at college, and Leo had seemed perfectly content going solo tonight.
Almost as if sensing his hesitation, the phone buzzed again in his hand.
From: Leo
come on loosen up. its friday night
9:39P Fri Dec04
Two texts in as many minutes…either the party must be really wild, or Leo was having an awkward moment and needed backup.
He looked at the computer screen, where Bumblebee's last message still lingered in the IM window, then back at the phone. He could hang around in his dorm for the rest of the night worrying about the state of his mental health…or he could go out and be a normal college kid.
It wasn't a difficult decision.
Ladiesman217: bee, i'm heading out. leo wants me at some party
Was it Sam's imagination, or did the slight pause before Bumblebee's response seem to convey the faintest hint of disappointment?
BitchinCamaro: Stay safe, Sam. I'll be there in the morning.
Ladiesman217: night bee
It was with a small measure of guilt that Sam closed the lid of his laptop, though he couldn't pinpoint why and brushed the feeling away impatiently. He'd go out tonight and have some fun (or at least rescue Leo from whatever social predicament he'd gotten into), come back for bed and when he woke up in the morning Bumblebee would be sitting in the parking lot and all would be well.
Heart feeling decidedly lighter, Sam grabbed a coat off the rug and headed for the door.
Ten minutes later, Sam was huddled under the streetlight at the corner of State Street, pulling his jacket tighter around himself and punching in Leo's speed dial on his mobile.
A moment of silence, and then the call switched over to his roommate's automated message system. Sam scowled; hadn't he just been texting him? Maybe Leo had gotten himself out of whatever awkward situation he had been in and didn't need Sam anymore.
Well, screw that. He'd finally gotten out of the dorm and he was going, whether Leo wanted him there or not. Just as he began nursing irritated thoughts at his errant friend, the phone beeped. Sam flipped it open eagerly.
From: Leo
its down on s. university keep walking like 10 mins
9:50P Fri Dec04
How did Leo know where he was? Sam shrugged internally and obediently turned down the smaller side street. There were plenty of student houses here, although most had darkened windows and were fairly quiet.
Several minutes later Sam was sure he'd taken a wrong turn. He didn't recognize the area, having had little reason to venture this far from Central Campus before. In fact, he was pretty sure he was almost off campus altogether. He'd passed the last of the student-loan housing buildings some distance back, and now even the streetlights were few and far between.
A thread of apprehension crept up his back, followed by irritation. Why didn't Leo just give him an address or building number?
He texted this to Leo, who responded surprisingly quickly.
From: Leo
sorry dude i dunno the address its like another two blocks tho
10:03P Fri Dec04
Sam sighed, pocketed the phone, and continued forward. The night was deadly still, and he was surprised by the utter lack of…noise he'd come to associate with a college campus. Perhaps the silence was what was setting him on edge, because his ears were pricked, his palms sweaty despite the chill, and his heart thudding a touch too quickly in his chest. In the darkness his footsteps fell like echoing thuds. The apprehension had become something else now, something more closely resembling fea—
Turn back turn back turn back
Something wasn't right. Sam stopped in his tracks, heart rate shooting up on some deep primitive instinct. He fumbled his phone out and read the last two messages (its down on s. university keep walking like 10 mins…i dunno the address its like another two blocks tho). How did Leo know how much further he had to go? The panic-rat was back in all its fury, twisting his stomach up in knots.
Keep walking…another two blocks…keep walking…
"Oh no. Oh no no nononono…"
Hadn't he learned this lesson after Alice? Hadn't he learned that the enemy could impersonate humans down to the very last detail, never mind something so simple as hacking his roommate's cell phone and sending convincingly teenager text messages?
I'm going to kill you, boy, slowly, painfully.
Something stirred in the darkness, a mechanical clicking sound.
Sam fled.
When Bumblebee rolled into the parking lot of Sam's dormitory building that morning, his chronometer read 9:30 AM. Since it was a Saturday, he didn't expect Sam to be awake until 11:00 at least, as was the boy's habit.
Two hours later, there was still no sign of Sam, even though the building was now full of students milling about and swiping in their cards at the dining hall. Bumblebee bounced a little on his shocks impatiently before setting off the obnoxious series of car alarms that never failed to get his boy's attention.
It was only when Leo came out and blearily asked if he knew where Sam was that Bumblebee realized something had gone terribly wrong.