Title: Sparks 5: Hack n Slash
Pairing BeexSam (with others developing)
Rating PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
This has been beta'd but nobody's perfect. Comments and Critiques are welcomed and encouraged.
Thanks!
AN: Chapter 5 and the revision of chapter 4 are dedicated to: muzaiden because i love her to bits,]dania99 for her all her help and kindess dragoona for her support. Thanks a lot! and Merry Christmas to everyone!
So here it goes. This is the re-edited version of Sparks. Thanks to gracesolo for all of the wonderful beta work, hand holding and laughter. You're my hero hon!
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Sparks 5
Hack n Slash
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As much fun as the Autobot Earth base Tyger Pax was, Sam was bored out of his mind.
Ratchet had suggested he take it easy and as an afterthought had ordered him, not to do anything strenuous or stupid.
Things had gone pretty smoothly, at least after Optimus, Banachek and Keller had their "talk". No one was really sure on the details but in the end the Autobots had their base and the Government secrets were safe. Things progressed to a semblance of normal, if normal meant hanging out with giant robotic aliens on a regular basis.
Unfortunately 'normal' meant they had building to do and with that, Sam couldn't help. It was that fact that left him with nothing to do. Bee had commiserated until he, too, was sent on active duty. He'd complained that he was supposed to be guarding Sam but that was just an excuse at best. As long as Sam was at the base, he was perfectly safe. The yellow scout had wanted to argue, but Ironhide had sternly informed him that Sam's entertainment was a lower priority than work he'd been assigned. Besides they both knew Samuel was supposed to be resting, Ratchet had quite a few assumptions as to his particular condition and wasn't willing to take any chances although it wasn't like the teen couldn't take care of himself. Aside from the Decepticons from whom they'd heard nothing, the only thing Sam was in risk of dying from was boredom.
Squashing his protest, Sam waved his guardian away. If Bee had work to do, he certainly couldn't detain him, not for too long at any rate. The robotic alien Camaro was about to disagree, but Ironhide had growled and off he'd gone. Sam was sure the conversation wasn't over, but was glad for the reprieve. Slipping out of the base he spotted Optimus Prime recharging in the fresh air. Crossing the sand he made his way to the dozing Autobot leader.
The large truck was bright in the desert sun, heat waves rising from his flame licked body. Staring at him, Sam had to admit it was kinda cool. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight, he pressed a hand to the door. It was warmer than he expected, making the teen hiss in surprise. His fingers tingled lightly, but it was reassurance that he was still alive. He smiled despite the minor irritation and touched the door again.
"Samuel?" The response was instantaneous; he hadn't known Autonomous life-forms could sound sleepy.
"Yeah it's me."
Not that the usually thirty-foot tall being couldn't tell who it was, but he was raised to be polite. A loud click sounded, a rather obvious invitation, one he had no problem accepting. Pulling the unlocked door wide he swung himself inside. It too was hot, much muggier than he was used to, but his protesting body insisted he take the opportunity to stop moving and take the invitation to relax.
Stretching out across the seat, he sighed and peered through the windshield.
"What brings you out here Sam?"
The tone was gentle and reserved; Optimus always spoke to him that way.
It may have had to do with rather recent near death experiences or the marks in his chest but he didn't want to the think about those.
"Sorry big guy, I didn't mean to bug you."
"You are not a bother Samuel, I am merely curious of your presence."
"Not much." he admitted finally.
Prime made a sound and turned his systems towards the matter of the human in his cab. A scan confirmed Ratchet's earlier assessment, but the not the reasoning behind it. Something was affecting the boy and in turn any being he came in contact with. He too was beginning to feel it, the energy of something not human. Was it the remains of the All Spark and if so what was it doing to Samuel? The uncertainty made the Autobot worry, tinges of the same sort of melancholy he felt when he thought of his home.
"What is presently occupying your thoughts?"
On his back, the youth managed a shrug, fingers tracing the stitches in the leather. The movement surprised Optimus, though Ironhide had warned him. Humans were a rather tactile species; Bumblebee had laughed at the statement, but had refused to share the joke. It was something they would have to learn on their own; the young scout had enjoyed parroting their own advice back at them.
"I was just thinking." Sam replied, the statement not much of an answer in itself.
Optimus tried again, much out-of-practice with the antics of a sparkling. A sparkling prepossessed with petting his seats and anything he could reach. When blunted nails tapped over the dashboard, Optimus rumbled, snapping them both from their thoughts.
"It's stupid..."
"Samuel?"
The boy shifted uneasily, his fingers stilling in the sunlight.
"What if…" his voice wavered slightly and then trailed off as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. He screwed up his courage and finally asked.
"What if I had succeeded and thrust the All Spark into your chest?"
Sam's breathing slowed, but he continued, staring straight ahead.
"What would have Megatron done?"
It was dangerous thinking, dwelling on what could have been rather than what was. It had led to suicide missions and fatal battles all too often. Unsure of how to respond, the Alien-In-Disguise-as-a-Peterbilt-truck began to consider the thought.
It had been a selfish, yet noble plan. It would have ended their war and begun another. Megatron was just as likely to murder his own kind and enslave another for not getting his way. It was madness, but the Decepticon leader was no longer known to be wise or sane. Humans and Autobots alike would have suffered to that end. Would it have really been better than things now were?
"It's best not to think of such things." The words were so faint that Sam almost didn't recognize them. He nodded to the dash, and settled back against the seats. Somewhat satisfied with the answer, the silence washed over them urging something else to be said.
"We are here and what we do now is more important than anything that might have been."
Those words, calm and reassuring were just enough to cede the young man from his thoughts. Before he'd asked, he'd thought so too.
A sudden rap on the door startled him, and it swung wide revealing the form of yet another teen.
On the lowest step peeking warily into the cabin, Miles waved. "Hey."
He'd somewhat had calmed down about the alien robots after they'd seen him naked and he'd been granted clearance. Officially, Samuel James Witwicky, Mikaela Banes and Miles Lancaster were the newest recruits in the Tyger Pax immersion program. Off the record they were the youth liaisons between the Autobots and the US government, which in young mister Lancaster's opinion was the lamest way to say glorified baby sitters. No one had agreed with sentiment yet, at least not out loud.
As of the last week, they'd fallen into a basic routine. The three teens had standing invitations to visit the base whenever they could and when they did; it was all gentle greetings and things very much out of their world. Ratchet would insist on a checkup every other week. Standard safety precautions for their exposure to Energon and to develop a baseline the effect Cybertronians had on their overall health.
So far there was nothing out of the ordinary not counting Sam's tattoos. As near as anyone could figure the designs were just that. No tests in the past week had caused even so much as a stir. From his chest down to his hips, parts of his arms and a bit of legs, the spirals and dots were slightly raised on the skin, almost like burns. As the rest of him was unscathed he'd stopped worrying about it, and simply come to grips with his new alien body art.
His parents on the other hand, were not pleased with the development. His mother had just about point blank ordered him to have them removed. He'd been willing to try at first, but ultimately decided against it. He had enough of doctors and hospitals for a lifetime. On that note, there was still the matter of dealing with his death certificate. No one at the hospital could be convinced he was still among the land of the living. While it was a fun way to tease his friends, Sam was getting tired of "laying low".
He turned to Miles and flashed a grin. "Hey."
The greeting earned a wave and Sam pointedly looked from the teen to the dashboard in front of him. Swallowing hard, the blond took the hint.
"Uh, Hi Optimus sir."
"Hello Miles."
Still nervous around the Bots, he tried not to let it show. The Autobots found it a bit peculiar, but humored him, mostly. Ratchet had taken to calling him by his given name as opposed to the diminutive. Mikaela had claimed it was how he showed he cared, but Sam had neither confirmed nor denied the claim. For invading alien robots, they were pretty cool, but Miles preferred to drive himself to the base.
It was weird, riding in the transforming aliens. Just, really weird. He was never quite sure where he was putting his hands and after the incident with Bumblebee, he was pretty sure he'd rather not know. Sam really couldn't blame him, but was glad he stuck around, what were best friends for anyway?
"So you ready?"
"Ready for what?"
Leaning a bit further in to the cabin, Miles rapped his knuckles soundly against Sam's forehead.
"Earth to Witwicky, come in Witwicky. Don't tell me you forgot?"
"I didn't." He replied defensively, shrugging as if it helped his case.
Rolling his eyes Miles took a step up, leaning further into the cab, car keys jingling on his hip.
"You and me, Tranquility, Friday nights?"
"It's Friday?" Sam repeated dumbly, underscoring his failure to pay attention.
"Give the guy a prize."
"I completely forgot!"
"I know."
Thankfully for Sam, his best buddy wasn't a complete pain in the ass about it his memory lapse.
Since kindergarten the pair had a tradition of spending every Friday afternoon together. They hung around the mall, played video games, caught movies and generally had a good time. While the habit had been due to lack of other friends and since high school, a lack of girl friends, the sudden alien presence had thrown off their dates. Not that either of them called them dates.
"C'mon and leave the big guy to his nap and get rolling."
The affectionate term for the Supreme Commander had garnered quite a bit of attention from the other Autobots. Bumblebee thought it was cutest little thing; his moniker however was rather less endearing.
"Lemme say bye to Bee and we'll be off."
"The Car probably already knows, besides he and Mr. T were heading somewhere when I showed up."
Mr. T was the silliest, yet most respectful nickname he'd come up with for Ironhide. When asked what it meant, he claimed it was short for Mr. Topkick.
Sam knew otherwise, but the Weapons Officer didn't seem to mind. In his opinion, he was at definitely worthy of a title insinuating respect.
The Car, Sam sighed, bad enough his world had been turned upside down in the course of a week, but then his best friends didn't get along. It was almost worse than high school. That was yet another reason in a list of many that he was glad for the summer.
Bumblebee was downright civil to Miles and the teen was remarkable clipped in return. Frustrated, Sam had decided to hang out with them separately, it was ultimately for the best. In the end, there was no love lost between them.
Running his hand through his hair, the teen nodded in agreement. They'd had to get going if they were to be back before dark. Sam's familial imposed curfew had been extended to cover the Autobot base, but Primus help him if he was late. Optimus' responsibility speech was just as bad as his father's and he didn't need to stop for air.
Shoving Miles aside Sam slid from the cab, flashing a grin at the Prime.
"We're heading into town, we'll be back later."
Even though he really didn't have to report to the Autobot Commander, he respected him enough to so anyway. Besides he was bit more impartial than his own parents were.
"Stay out of trouble."
The mech had adopted the salutation, finding it useful when dealing with his subordinates and the younger individuals he came across. Will Lennox found it particularly amusing, probably since he was a parent.
Saluting the truck, Sam marched across the sand, falling in step with his friend as they moved toward the parking lot.
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Mikaela wasn't positive, but she had the niggling feeling that something was wrong.
The Cadillac Escalade she'd passed five minutes ago had moved, and this time it was in a Handicapped parking spot. Waving off her giggling friends in favor of the suspicious car, she made a call to base. If the illegally parked vehicle had a Handicap sticker she'd just chalk her suspicion up to paranoia and take a nice long vacation from anything involving aliens. If it didn't, well it was better call it in. Some of the newer converts really weren't so friendly and she had the bruises to prove it.
The Mountain Dew machine temporarily stationed at the Hoover Dam facility had canned three people before it had been convinced it was among friends. It was actually kind of cute, when it wasn't menacing anyone. The base staff had affectionately named it Dewbot and it was content to stay provided no one resorted to violence when it refused service. For a soft drink dispenser, it had particular views on the safe amount of caffeine consumption by humans in a given period of time. It was probably due to the health articles that Maggie kept sending it.
Madsen was still on a temporary base assignment for Defense Secretary Keller. She and Glenn had made up the technical support while the newest eggheads were still in selection. Along with Simmons as their unofficial superior officer and the occasional back up from the Autobots, Sector Seven was just beginning its long road to redemption. Sure, the path was tough and no where near easy, but things had to change. As humans, they couldn't just accept that things were happening that they had no control over. They may have been giant aliens on the planet, but it was still their planet.
Simmons had been pretty clear on the subject when he'd pulled her aside after Sam's resurrection insisting that her talent was better than just lipstick, engines, belly shirts and Juve. She'd slapped him then, he'd simply told her to call him when she made up her mind.
"Not just because criminals are hot?"
"Not just because you're hot."
She'd accepted the position then, without even considering a refusal. It was a shot at something, better options than nothing. It wasn't easy, but that didn't stop her. Her only regret was that she' yet to tell Sam about the job. She wasn't sure how he'd take it. Sam was still in the mindset that the Sector Seven was the root of all their problems. They'd attacked his Bee and that was enough for him to hate them. He was so thick sometimes, really cute, but tragically stubborn. That was probably another one of the reasons that their "relationship" was probably not gonna last to much longer. It was a real shame, but Mikaela was still really glad she'd gotten in that car.
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The Tranquillity City arcade had been a complete waste of time. There had been nothing worth the trip. They'd avoided the racing and shooting games like the plague and neither of them felt like dancing. A movie was out of the question; especially with the Alien movie marathon in full swing. Something like that was a bit too normal now to be an escape.
Hands stuffed in their pockets the teens made their way back to Miles' car. The blue Chevy Corsica LTZ sat quietly on the corner patiently awaiting the arrival of its owner, strictly in the nonliving kind of way. Again, Miles really had a problem with sitting inside alien cars.
The day hadn't been a complete waste of time, they'd gotten away from everything, well they'd tried at least. It wasn't their fault things were different and it wasn't going to be the end of the world if they were. Together, the teen crossed the streets they'd been down a hundred times before; passed the shops they'd been in and out of since they could ride their bikes and passed the stupid jerk who'd bullied them since they'd thrown him in a trash can as kids.
The jerk leaned forward, stuck out his foot and that was all it took for Miles to make the most impressive face plant that Sam had seen all year. Landing hard, he made a pained sound and clutched at his arm.
"Smooth Move." Their assailant hissed his voice soft and cruel.
They knew instantly that the rough sarcastic tone belonged to none other than Trent DeMarco, quite possibly the bane of their high school career. Trent or the ape-man as Miles preferred to call him was not in the best of moods. It took one look for the teens to figure he'd heard the latest gossip about the rumored relationship between his ex-girlfriend and Samuel Witwicky.
In fact, the moment he'd come to that obvious conclusion, he'd made it a point to trash the dork and his loser friend all the more. After all what could be more perfect than getting revenge on the girl who ruined his rep and the shit-head she settled for? What he hadn't expected was for the little guy to call him on it.
"Yeah, really? Tripping folks DeMarco? I honestly thought you were better than that."
Moving to help Miles to his feet, Witwicky sized Trent up again.
"I guess I was wrong, but then again we both know I wasn't the only one."
There was no mistaking the venom in those words or the thinly veiled insinuation behind them.
Sam turned as he was, never saw the punch coming. He recoiled from the hit, stumbling back into the street. He blearily heard the screech of tires before he bounced off the hood of a car. Pushing off he moved purposefully raising his fist to strike back. If that was how DeMarco wanted to play it was fine by him. He'd been facing his fears a lot recently, and the jock couldn't compare with the nightmares he'd seen. Trent grinned and raised his own hands, more than ready to beat the living stuffing out of the punk.
Sirens sounded suddenly catching them off-guard, still on the sidewalk Miles swore colorfully.
Sam turned to greet the officer sliding out of the driver's side, ready to explain his side of the story. He knew he was in the wrong, but he'd be damned he wasn't going fight it. He'd been arrested before. As the man came around the car however, his heart froze in shock. A glance at the car was all it took. He was doomed.
"So we meet again, Mr. Witwicky." The tone was so harsh, so filled with violence that Sam stumbled over the curb as he tried putting as much distance between them.
Trent for his part couldn't have been more thrilled with the events unless his Ex had been in attendance. Adopting an innocent expression the teen held up his hands, and played the fool.
"It was an honest mistake, I didn't mean any trouble."
The officer ignored him completely, focusing on Sam.
"Miles," Sam hissed trembling. "We have to get out of here."
Confused but compliant the teen nodded.
"Why?"
"That's-"
Sam's statement wasn't finished as the officer lunged and trapped him against the shiny blue hood of Trent's Hummer.
"Dude, no one touches my car! I-"
Cold eyes sized him up and the words stopped abruptly.
"Would you like to be arrested for aiding and abetting?"
A simple headshake was good enough to satisfy the officer with the moustache.
Sam however was nowhere near as peaceful. Kicking, stomping and yelling he generally made a nuisance of himself. Any other officer would have had an issue with him, but this one didn't bat an eyelash. Hauling him towards the car, he reached for door. It swung open before he touched it, but no one noticed.
"Miles! Get Mikaela, Get my Car, Just get the Hell outta of here!" The half-coherent screams didn't stop as he was shoved in the back of the cruiser. Slamming his fists against the window, Sam tried harder than ever to be heard. The blue uniformed office slipped back around the vehicle and tipped his hat to the teens that stared back.
Miles, at a loss for anything better to do jumped into the street as the car whipped past him and made and illegal U-Turn into traffic. As it passed again, Miles couldn't just stand there and watch as his friend was taken. Pissed off to the point of no return he seizing a rock and lobbed it at the back windshield. It was a Decepticon; a fucking alien robot had just kidnapped his friend.
Apparently no longer in the mood to be nice, the cruiser slammed on its brakes and hit reverse. Weaving through oncoming traffic it cut its wheels and turned heading straight for the boys.
Miles managed to scream fleeing for the safety, but even that was not enough to stop the Cop-Car-on-A-Rampage.
Slamming into DeMarco's parked Hummer, it reversed and hit the car again rocking it on its wheels. A third impact and the Hummer tipped, falling towards the young man standing just behind it.