Title: Sparks: 14 Murphy's Law
Pairing BeexSam, ProwlxJazz, RatchetxIronhide
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
Not much to say except sorry for the wait, and this hasn't been beta'd I just really wanted to get it out,
Thanks to lemonflav_lopfe ,mmouse15 and katintheroses. \
So enjoy!
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!
14141414141414
Sparks 14: Murphy's Law
14141414141414
Miles rocked in his seat and tapped his pen against the stack of paper before him. The motion caught Mikeala's attention and she rolled her eyes. She didn't want to be at the briefing any more than he did, but their attendance was mandatory. If they were to find Sam, they had to do it by the book. They'd signed away their freedom and with it, their ability to make impulsive decisions. No matter how much they wanted to be out with the search parties.
Sam had been missing for two weeks, and the Decepticons were lying so low that the Cybertronian scouting teams hadn't been able to find neither hide nor hair of them. It was out of character for them as far as the Autobots were concerned, but their allies merely took it in stride. There was no place on earth that could protect them for long.
It didn't have to be long, thought Miles, ignoring the oversized map projected on the far wall. The Decepticons had what they wanted and as far as he'd gotten from the Bots under his care, it wouldn't be long before they started building an army.
Just what they needed in the US, giant robot zombies taking over the planet; and the government was just going to let it happen.
Miles sighed loudly and slumped in his chair, Trent elbowed him in the ribs. Turning to glare at the still bandaged teen, the blond medic brandished his pen menacingly. A pointed glance at the papers in front of him, however, changed his mind.
There written in pen, in a handwriting that was not his own.
'The short of it, is the top brass wants to play defense instead of going for the ball. The bots don't agree. '
Lancaster snorted in amusement and leaned forward, blocking his reply from view.
'Obviously. So when do we leave?'
'We don't. It's going to be a small cadre of bots, soldiers and agents. You and yours are staying put. Might want to organize a distraction while you're at it.
Miles sat up straight, crumpling the report under his fingers. "You're kidding ...right?"
Black leather seats creaked as the assembled company turned to look. Across the table, Agent Mikaela Banes shushed him before everyone turned back to listen to the Secretary of Defense.
"Any questions?"
Trent snatched the pen from Miles' fingers and scratched over the words, his lips pressed tight.
'The less who know the better and we don't need you hurt either.'
Accepting back the pen, the teen turned the packet, writing along the margins. 'Speak for yourself'
Any reply was squashed as Reginald Simmons moved forward, pulling the graffiti decorated packet from the table. Lancaster and Demarco turned away, eyes riveting towards the far wall as the projection dimmed, the slideshow finished. The darkened room was suddenly that much darker as the map of the continental United States with 15 dots in red faded from view.
When no one spoke, Secretary Keller ended the meeting sadly. "You will stick to your posts and defense against the Decepticon menace. You don't need me to tell what will happen if we fail."
The entire company of soldiers and suits saluted sharply, before filing from War room into the corridors of Hoover Dam's fifth floor. Pacing behind her commanding officer, Mikaela turned to look at her former classmates hissing angrily at each other as they fell in step. The taller of pair, the only of them with an officially earned military rank; her former boyfriend, shrugged at his companion and met her gaze. A sad smile reached her features and she slowed her pace considerably as Miles sulked beside him.
It was impossible to walk three abreast, so the boys flanked her as they marched towards the elevator bank. It had been a bit since they had last seen each other, but the separation hasn't damped their camaraderie in the least.
"Did you do something with your hair?"
Mikaela spared her odd friend an insulting look. "No, it just seems longer because DeMarco's isn't."
Snorting derisively, Trent ran his fingers through his cropped mane before deigning to reply. "Say what you want, but you have to admit it looks good."
The young woman shrugged. Behind them, Miles rolled his eyes.
Trent plastered a grin across his face. "What else can I say? The service looks good on me."
Agent Banes tipped her head, smiling softly. "It doesn't hurt, if that's what you mean."
The trio slowed to a stop, tucking themselves into an unused room. All smiles vanished, the instant the door closed behind them.
"What the hell is going on?" asked Mikaela softly.
"Lennox and the boys are joining the search party, unauthorized."
Whistling, the Human Cybertronian Liaison tugged at DeMarco's collar, examining the bandage wrapped tight about his throat.
Trent made a face but continued. "We're going out tonight. Only a few teams were given clearance. Not even all the bots know, and we plan to keep it that way."
"So?"
"I'm telling you because you and the truck made the cut and telling him because the twins didn't. You're going to have to keep them out of trouble while the mission is on." He insisted, finally pushing away Miles' questing fingers.
"Why am I not surprised?"
"So how's Chromia?" Miles interrupted Mikeala' s query, rocking back and forth in his grey suit.
His question seemed to hang in the air for a moment before Trent responded. "You don't know? I thought she came in for a system check yesterday."
Miles shook his head and tapped at his watch. "The only Cybertronians I see on a regular basis are my instructor, my bodyguards, and my patients."
"She's fine, glad to be on active duty again."
Pursing his lips, the teen nodded encouragingly. "Good, that's good."
The unimpressed look DeMarco gave him wasn't reassuring, with a sigh he shrugged. "It's probably okay. As long as she's getting regular checks ups, Ratch and I aren't the only qualified medics on base."
Mikaela chose that moment to interrupt, curling a strand of dark hair about a finger. "How is that partnership going? Can you keep them out of trouble?"
Wrinkling his nose Miles looked away. "It's going fine. Sideswipe is pretty great and Sunstreaker can be trusted to stay out of the way, at the very least."
The cat got canary smile she turned on him immediately underscored the fact he'd said exactly the wrong thing. "I was asking about Ratchet, but if you're willing to share. Long Arm is pretty curious, having never experienced such a phenomenon."
"Y'know" Trent continued, "I'm rather curious myself."
"About what? There's nothing to tell."
"Are you sure?"
As the unusual inquiry caught him off guard, Miles stepped away from the soldier and secret agent, bumping against the door as the teens moved closer. With no one else in the hall, he was trapped with no escape. He was going to have to face the rumor mongering and there was nothing he could do.
A sudden knock on the door, alerted them to Simmons' impatience and Lancaster sighed thankfully.
Following him out, Mikaela Banes wasn't finished, not by a long shot. "Miles, There's something we've been meaning to tell you."
14141414141414
Stumbling down a corridor in ill-fitting boots, Samuel Witwicky found himself dragged about a military installation. It wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but he really didn't have a choice, what with the deranged officer escorting him through the base. The man, if it could be called that, at his right was none other than the holographic representation of Starscream. For being a fabricated extension of hard light, he looked and felt real. Sam hadn't even known something like that was possible, but apparently it was and the human was again at the mercy of the Decepticon Air Commander.
Gritting his teeth, Witwicky marched along, tugging at the scrounged uniform as the hand on his shoulder tightened. Wincing, he turned and glared at Starscream, his hands curling into a fist. It was a pointless threat, but it made him feel marginally better as the Decepticon sneered.
"Turn here, and be silent."
It was one thing to be ordered about by the alien, but to hear that voice from a human shape was ridiculous; Sam almost laughed, but caught himself.
There was nothing funny about his situation, or the events that had led him into it. He'd been kidnapped by the Decepticons, again, but this time he wasn't alone. Jazz, the previously deceased Autobot lieutenant, was also a prisoner of the Decepticons.
Sam didn't know how it had happened or even why. The last thing he remembered, was talking to Optimus as his thoughts had drifted to-.
No. He wasn't going there. Not now.
Tripping suddenly, Sam almost face planted with the floor. The Decepticon's death-grip on his collar, however, saved him from more than just the embarrassment the stumble would have caused. Wrenching him to his feet, Starscream shoved Sam forward violently, stepping through the door out onto the tarmac.
Bright light assaulted the teen's senses and he lifted his hand to shield his face. The sun was high, the strip scorching; almost too much for the young human to bear. With a hand on his arm, the Air Commander kept him moving across the arid landscape.
One foot, in front of the other. Keeping his head down Sam moved, following the hissed instructions. A few pilots passed him moving toward the building, but he paid them no mind. There was no time to try and be a hero.
The entire base was being held hostage and they didn't even know it.
It was an effective ploy. With so many hostages, there was no way for Sam to even consider refusing his captor's request. The damaged chassis of the Autobot Lieutenant was almost useless as a bargaining chip, now that the All Spark's vessel knew he could bring the Cybertronians back to life. So the Decepticons had formed a new plan to keep him compliant.
Every human that Sam passed was beholden to him. Every face he saw was a life for which he was responsible. If he tried anything, anything at all, the humans would die; one by one. It was a rather effective method of control, gleefully underscored by Frenzy who'd realized that their captive no longer raised his head, seeking help.
The silver con was with his creator, Soundwave, circling the base on the lookout for anything strange. This particular outing was merely a test of their pet's behavior. A chance to see if their power over the boy was absolute or if another demonstration was necessary.
The All Spark had tried to flee the second week, and Brawl had knocked him from his feet. He had regained consciousness to Jazz's screams as Scorponok had torn out his optics, the act was to be security against such continued behavior but Sam hadn't reacted as expected.
He'd reacted badly, attacking the nearest thing. When they'd grabbed him, he fought so rashly that there had been no chance to utilize the access ports in his skin, no chance for the Cons to bend his will from the inside out.
Displeased, Megatron had ordered Soundwave to remove the jacks set into his flesh, one at a time.
The trailing, silver tentacles had gotten as far as cutting open the flesh at his wrist before he'd screamed and fainted. The damaged skin of his arm, lesson enough, was still healing, especially since the Decepticons tended to drag him about by the injured appendage. He woken with three ports intact, the fourth clotted and red, painful and useless.
Since then, Sam's, attitude had improved marginally as his sprit was broken. He'd begun to talk back less and less, which was unfortunate. Starscream had always preferred toys with a bit of fight in them. Stopping before an old hangar, the Decepticon snorted as he checked over the maps he'd downloaded.
This was the place.
Addressing the human, he pointed to a small door in the shadow of the building and they moved slowly, heedless of the necessary passcode. Frenzy parroted the numbers from Soundwave to Starscream, his voice filled with boredom. It was only Soundwave's presence that kept the small con from doing something stupid.
The door opened into the hangar, the light from the doorway casting its presence across the aircraft inside. Shoving the human forward, Starscream leaned against the wall, and let the door swing shut.
Turning in the fading light, the human was able to catch the flickering of red eyes and cruel smirk of his captor. "Now then, fleshling, let's see what you can do."
In the darkness, the human shaped seeker reached, striking at boy before he could blink. As the pain set in and he fell, Sam's last thought was of the odd black jet looming above him. Starscream chuckled and Sam felt the power rolling from him in waves..
14141414141414
Security within Hoover Dam and its affiliated offices had improved considerably in the time after the Decepticon attack. It was a fact that not only worried the Autobot forces, but saddened them. The measure of preparation the humans had achieve icluded prepping combat maneuvers to use against all Cybertronian life.
In a secluded corner of the base, Prowl watched the members of Sector Seven train their operatives with a rising sense of dread. It was nothing like the Academy of his youth or the well managed war-made teams his people had become over the centuries.
The black suited rows of adolescents marching in tandem, bearing weapons and a pack mentality, were more like the legions that followed Megatron to their deaths, before the loss of the All Spark. It was a shame it was beginning on this planet, as well.
Shifting gears, the monochrome Tactical officer of the Autobot forces slipped unnoticed from the hangar and made his way through the recently repaired motor pool. Light flickered above him as he rolled for the exit, his scans taking in every detail of the garage; especially the empty spot that had once held the young scout Bumblebee.
But he was long gone, enraged to the point of ignoring his orders and taking off. Prowl had followed him in that instant; tires screeching as they sped up the ramp, easing past debris and works as they pulled out onto the desert road. Clouds of dust billowed up as the Camaro flew across the landscape, the mustang hot on its trail as they sped along.
Fighting the rising anger and confusion, Prowl had called to the scout attempting to stop him, if not to find the reason for such uncharacteristic behavior. Only after the fourth warning and the threat to shoot had Bumblebee replied.
"What in the name of the All Spark are you doing?"
"I'm going to get him." The gruff reply was so unlike the young Bot Prowl almost hit his brakes.
Swerving around a few cars, the cruiser activated his sirens and sped up. Maintaining his own breakneck speed, Bumblebee still refused to stop.
"Don't you mean them?"
"No, I don't" The venom-filled reply was more Decepticon like than any Bumblebee had ever given in his life.
Pulling up alongside his companion. Prowl tried again. "What you are doing is absolutely uncalled for, desist now."
"Uncalled for?" The incredulous sound of his friend and subordinate was almost more than Prowl could take. Nothing in his illustrious career had ever prepared him for something like this. Dropping speed, the cruiser fell in behind the Camaro, trying to avoid crashing into other vehicles as he tried to reason with the scout.
"Stop this Bumblebee, whatever you are thinking, whatever you are planning. This is not our way."
Weaving dangerously the bright Autobot addressed his mentor roughly. "To the pit with 'our way'. I will not let this happen again. I lost him due to my own feelings and I am going to get him back."
The sorrow in that voice was all he needed to know what the human meant to the scout. He used the same tone when he spoke of Jazz. The same mixture of love and regret plagued almost every member of their team. It was so obvious, he wondered why he did not see it before.
Pushing the limits of his alternate mode, Prowl addressed Bumblebee again.
"I understand. I know now what he is to you. A spark mate, as Jazz was to me." He wasn't sure if such a thing was possible, but there was no mistaking what the young bot felt. A surge of emotion ripped through the elder bot's spark and he continued, voice cracking over the connection. "But you must know we will save him."
"You don't understand Prowl. None of you can." Growling low, the mech sped up smoke rising from the asphalt as he went. His vocalizer cracked as he continued, anger rising in his tone. "Sam is not my spark mate, by Primus I would have him so, but he is not and can never be. This war has seen to that, despite it bringing us together. There is nothing I can do but protect him for the rest of his life as I have sworn to. I'd rather tear out my own spark than fail again."
Prowl had stopped suddenly, screeching to a halt; the cloud of dust eclipsed his form, as he watched the yellow mech pull away. The scout was wrong, dead wrong. He did understand; he'd understood centuries before the All Spark had even landed on the planet.
He had understood that sentiment, the instant Jazz had clung to him in a cold black Decepticon cell, humming softly as he leaked Energon at an unimaginable rate. He known the moment he'd taken the lieutenant's hand, and asked him the question he'd been dying to ask him since the moment they had met. Citing his desire to die as a bonded pair than to live forever without Jazz, it had been the most important decision of his life; as the choice to protect was Bumblebee's.
Cutting his sirens he'd let him go, praying to Primus for his sake.
That had been days ago, when the repairs had still been fresh, but that wasn't important anymore. What was important now was ensuring that no one else would ever have to suffer as he and Bumblebee had.
Giving a blast of his sirens, Prowl pulled out joining the search for the All Spark, rather, Samuel Witwicky.
1414141414141414
It was cold and dark, well of course it was dark, he'd been without sight for nearly- well it didn't really matter. He was still trapped and he didn't really know anyway.
As his death had been, the Autobot's resurrection had been sudden and painful. The effect of having repeatedly felt both upon his guttering spark multiple timesin the past week had been more than enough to render him incoherent and useless. It was that helplessness that accounted for his current position as a Decepticon hostage.
There was none of the insurance the position usually afforded; Jazz was merely leverage against the All Spark. Death was no longer permanent and Sam Witwicky's resilience had earned the mech several injuries, the missing optics, a shattered visor, along with extensive internal and external damage. It was a miracle he was functioning at all. A miracle that cried and bled at Decepticon hands; a miracle that hated seeing anyone hurt. A miracle that was capable of remaking a planet.
A new Cybertron.
That was it, the goal of the Decepticons, not to mention the total destruction of the Autobot forces. It was the focus of their mission, balanced on a young human who hadn't even finished high school. Shifting in his cell Jazz frowned, Sam was too young, much too young to be the harbinger of such change. Even if he was the All Spark made flesh.
He knew it, there was no mistaking the energy that flowed from the teen as he had healed the worst of the lieutenant's torture-inflicted wounds. He had more than just its influence or power. He was the All Spark. Even more than that.
He was one of the only reasons Jazz was still alive.
Having lost the only link he'd held with his beloved at his untimely death Jazz didn't even know if his bond mate was alive.
Sam was suspiciously tightlipped on the subject, despite the torture he'd come to experience daily under the less than tender mercies of the Decepticon forces. He could heal any injured Cybertronian, but the talent did not extend to himself.
It was inconceivable, the silver Autobot had never seen a creature bleed so much outside of battle, but that seemed like years ago, when he'd still had his sight.
The boy, the All Spark had cried less then, when he could see him. Once in a great while, he'd hear him at night sniffling softly, cursing his own helplessness and stupidity. It wasn't exactly right; he wasn't helpless or even remotely stupid. Sam was just a young man caught in a war which he had no business being in.
He was a brave boy who stood up to aliens bent on using him for their own ends and he survived. It was a lot more than one could say about most of the people who'd been in the same situation. Not that too many had.
It was morning. It had to have been.
Soundwave, he'd known who it was by the heavy footsteps and the softer ones behind, had come and taken Samuel ages ago. He'd probably be back soon, pounding the walls in frustration before bottling up his regret and asking the lieutenant how he was.
Any fear or anger that Sam held was banished in the face of helping others. He'd even repaired some minor damage on the smaller drones, which by his admission hadn't been caused by Autobots. Despite the uneasiness in his tone and sorrow in his words, the battle lines were blurring for Sam. It wasn't hard to see; despite the fact Jazz was sightless.
He knew what was happening, He'd experienced the same thing ages before, when he'd first been captured by the Autobots. Hanging his head the former Decepticon knew he'd give anything to be taken again.
Odd footsteps echoed across the floor, earning a blind glance from the restrained mech. It wasn't someone he knew; in fact he wasn't sure it was even a Decepticon. His cruel captors were pathologically unable to pass him without tormenting him in some way. The echoes sounded again, and mech came closer, shorting the electrified cell with a single shot before moving to Jazz's side.
Bracing himself for anything, Jazz was distinctly surprised by long fingers tracing the projections of his helm as the Bot sighed softly. It wasn't, it couldn't have been. There was just no way. The voice calling his name however was distinct proof otherwise. "Oh Jazz."
In his chest, his severed spark pulsed, making him shake as the hands moved to free him from his bonds.
Shaking his head, he had so many questions and so much to say but nothing came, everything bottled up as a sudden choked sound erupted from his lip components.
"Prowl?"
The reaction was immediate, as soon as he was free, strong hands lifted him from the floor, pulling him close so he could feel the rumbling engine against his frame.
Bonded. His bonded.
Sagging against Prowl, he clung, despite their location, holding tight to his other half. The lips against his helm moved slowly each word a deceleration of longing and love. "I thought I I'd lost you, I couldn't feel…. I can't feel you."
In that instant, hands gripped his pulling them tight against an unfamiliar frame.
"I missed you"
Clinging tighter, the smaller mech leaned upon his love, shaking in the dark. It was exactly what he'd been longing for, wishing for. "Prove to me this is real."
The subtle shake of the officer's head was as clear a denial as if he had pulled away. They both knew it wasn't the time or place for such a thing. "I want you, but I can't, our bond is broken so I must not."
Lifting his head the lieutenant smiled sadly, reaching for the mech he could not bear to live without. Laying a hand to his chest, he rose up to whisper lips to lips. "We've waited so long, I won't wait any longer." Pressing his hand over his other's spark, he was reminded of the first time they'd been together and it brought another smile to his face, one he hadn't had in ages, just like his bonded.
"Touch me "
Oddly, for once in his existence, Prowl didn't need to be told twice.
14141414141414
Milton Lancaster heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. Pacing was doing absolutely nothing for him. So instead, he resorted to the practical approach.
Taping the comlink nestled against his head, the teen called the Security officer on duty. It took less than a minute for the major to locate the very mech he was looking for. Unfortunately, the Bot was not alone.
Squaring his shoulders, the medic-in-training stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled into the med bay determined to rectify the situation.
Across the room, the brilliant chartreuse Hummer he'd come to respect and tolerate as his teacher didn't bother to look up. "You're early."
Rolling his eyes, Miles passed the sole patient in the room and dropped onto the green couch against the wall. "I know. I figured I'd have some work to do."
Snorting, Ratchet examined an attachment in his hand before applying it to the panel before him. "Rather unlikely, things have been quiet since the last skirmish."
Nodding, the teen leaned back, examining his sneakers and the mixtures of stains on their soles. The brightest were the dried blood and Energon from the pivotal battle weeks ago, when they had lost Sam.
Quirking his lips, Milton addressed his alien instructor once more pushing back his bangs. "Then go."
"What?"
"Go on…take a break…Just go."
Turning slowly the CMO looked to the human reclining on the couch. He, a mere assistant, a human assistant was attempting to kick Ratchet out of his own workspace. Setting aside the bright red panel he was working the dings out of, the medic moved closer, dwarfing the teen as he stared down at him. "Why in the name of Primus would I do something like that?"
Crossing his arms Miles seemed almost insulted. "Why Ratch, don't you trust me?"
The scornful glare he received wasn't nearly as frightening as facing down a Decepticon so the blond continued. "If you don't trust me to oversee the medbay in your absence… why are you training me?"
The Hummer was silent for a moment before flipping the attachment back into his wrist. "You've got a point there."
Rising to his feet, the Miles dusted his hands and grinned at the Autobot before him. "Of course I do, now scoot." Shoving ineffectually at Ratchet's leg, Miles tried to emphasize his point.
Nonplussed, the more experienced officer leaned down imparting a few well-meant instructions and requirements before the unprecedented changing of the guards. Used to such gestures from his mother, the young human nodded waiting for the CMO to finish his summary, he didn't have long to wait, there was only one patient after all.
He didn't even wait for his instructor to finish before interrupting. "Yes, I've got it. He's not going anywhere, even if I have to stasis lock him. I'll be fine, sir."
Pausing to meet his protégée eye-to-eye, Ratchet had to admit things would be safe in the human's hands.
"Now that we've established that, there's probably something, or someone you could be doing right now…Get to it. You're not gonna get a reprieve everyday".
Arching an optic ridge in a look that meant he knew exactly what his assistant was implying, Ratchet shook his head before moving to the door, muttering about humans and their misplaced prerogatives Miles ignored the statement and waited until the hall was clear before turning to the task at hand.
With slow steps, Milton C. Lancaster moved toward his acquired patient. Climbing up onto the berth, the young man regarded his charge as he walked across his plating, fishing the necessary tools from the confines of his overalls. Staring down at the recharging mech, the medic lifted the wrench high above his head before swinging it down, across the smooth faceplates, all but shattering the oath he'd sworn, to protect and serve all those under his care.
The attack was quick and to the point, the infirmed mech beneath him was awake within seconds, confusion spreading across his damaged features. The blow hadn't been particularly hazardous, but it had been expertly applied to cause its recipient pain. Shaking his head, the abused Autobot tried to move and discern who was doing him such harm.
Balanced against the Autobot's torso, Miles swung again, the tool in his hand catching the receptive helm protrusions. Sideswipe winced and recoiled, nearly dislodging the much smaller form.
Despite the shuddering of his perch, Miles held on, one hand clutching the panels making up the red Autobot's chest plate. It was a risky position that granted him the advantage over his victim, despite the harm it caused. The sharp, yet sensitive edges cut into his palm as he held on, heedless of the pain and blood.
Swinging the wrench, the angry teen stared the confused alien in the optics as he was finally able vocalize the things he desperately needed to say. "How dare you!" he growled, unable to strike his assistant again. His violent rage was ebbing, but he still wasn't finished. "I didn't even know what I was doing and you only encouraged it! How messed up is that! What's wrong with you?"
Sideswipe didn't move, he didn't speak. He only stared down at the howling youth as he fought angry tears welling in his eyes. Miles stood precariously balanced, a bent wrench clasped in his swelling red hand. Sighing, his shoulders dropped and he looked away, the flush of his fury giving away the pink blush of humiliation. "You made me into a whore."
Sitting up fully, the scuffed and dented Autobot lifted his hands supporting human within them. The first words he spoke were intelligible, but it didn't seem to matter Sideswipe seemed to smile, lifting the human higher to meet his gaze.
His voice was softer than the teen had ever heard and directed at him, in an attempt to soothe and comfort. To his surprise, he found it was actually working. The large thumb of the mech brushed against his chest, as the broad hands cradled him gently. "You've got it all wrong."
"Do I?" Reaching to wipe a tear he hadn't known was there, Milton smeared blood over his cheek renewing the pain as a hiccup made its way from his lips. Chagrined the warrior-medic held him closer as he began to explain.
Sudden footsteps startled them and Miles actually dropped his weapon as he guiltily turned towards the door. Before either could speak, a bright golden figure crossed the room and yanked the human from his brother's hands, hauling him up to his full height as he added his two cents. "Part of it at any rate"
Flailing briefly the human shut his eyes to the dizzying altitude and demanded an answer. "Then tell me. How am I wrong?"
Drawing him closer to his face the sneering mech bit back a laugh and whispered to his hostage "He led you and encouraged you, because I told him to."
Stunned and horrified. the blond could only glare helplessly from the mech's grip. He was livid. He was beyond angry. "You used me!" He snarled jabbing a finger at Sunstreaker.
The mech shrugged unconcerned by the accusation. "You were there."
Shaking off his aphasia the young medic squirmed, trying to strike the smug Bot. "How could you?" he demanded heedless of his precarious situation. The Bot's reveal had him angrier than he'd even been in his entire life, and for good reason. It was one thing to be seduced into such an encounter, but being manipulated into it was another thing entirely.
Shaking the scrawny male, the more volatile of the twins laughed derisively at the query. It wasn't as if he owed him anything. The fierce look he received from his spark mate, however was enough to make him deign to answer. "Rather easily."
Sunstreaker's words, poorly chosen and ill-timed were enough to reignite the passionate fury of a human scorned and Miles shoved a clenching fist into his pocket. He was not about to take such disrespect, not from an oversized toaster, not from anyone. Closing his fingers over a large flathead screwdriver, he gave his forthcoming ward a chance to make up for his mistake. "You think that's funny?"
Lifting him up that much higher the offensive mech sneered at him optics flashing as his spat out the next words. "Only the most pathetically undistinguished, repulsive little joke there ever was,"
Staring blankly ahead Milton was done, he'd had enough.
Lifting his hand from his pocket, he drew the last weapon he had as the yellow Autobot continued speaking. "I only put up with such offensive character, because Sideswipe's a bleeding spark."
No sooner had the words left his lips components than the medic in training attacked him. Swinging the simple tool down over the yellow warrior's pale faceplate, the teen easily scratched the through the paint producing an unsightly scar along Sunstreaker's face, from the beneath his left optic to the edge of his face. The reaction was immediate and the Autobot released him suddenly, pressing bright fingers to his face.
Miles fell with a shout, bouncing against the outstretched hands of the aforementioned bleeding spark. He fell silent instantly wincing at the pain before struggling to his knees. Shaking away the impact, Milton rose to his feet in the black hands of his savior. Sideswipe looked from the human to his brother, convinced the mech had finally lost his mind. Above them, the angry mech reached for the teen rumbling threateningly. His bright optics flashed as he spoke practically growling at the human.
"I will destroy you."
Leaning away from the protective embrace despite his swimming vision and pounding headache, Milton managed a wry smile lifting the screwdriver clutched within his fingers. Ignoring the pain, he clung to his bravado in face of the enraged bot. "You think you can? I can drop you before you even have the chance to draw a weapon. "
Snorting derisively the huge alien leaned forward, reaching for the Electron pulse blaster at his side.
"Wanna bet?"
Meeting the gaze of the medic-in-training, Sunstreaker lifted the firearm, fingering the trigger in a deliberate threat. "You may just go down to friendly fire before you get the chance."
It was in that instant that Sideswipe reacted. Slapping the blaster from his sibling's hand the irritated mech rose to his feet clutching Miles to his chest plate as he rebuked his twin. He'd been reserved before in dealing with the situation, but the fact his brother still couldn't play well with others had gotten to a point that even he couldn't ignore.
"Stop this." He ordered softly standing nearly chest to chest with his twin. If any could reign in Sunstreaker, it was he more than any other.
Glancing at the fallen weapon the warrior moved closer nearly touching his brother. Grumbling unpleasantly at the pair before him he finally spoke accentuating each bitter word. "Why should I?"
Miles squirmed in his captor's grip pushing against the large fingers as Sideswipe spoke.
"You," he growled "are as much of a bleeding spark as I, and now I know why."
Stunned briefly by the red Lambo's statement Sunstreaker gaped at him shaking his head as the realization sunk in.
"No!"
Ignoring the panic in Sunny's optics Sideswipe nodded in return. "Yes."
Taken aback the usually fierce mech turned away. "I couldn't have."
Putting a hand to his shoulder Sideswipe smiled brilliantly. "Yes, you have… we have."
Clearing his throat noisily, Milton Lancaster demanded in no uncertain terms to know what the hell they were talking about. Glaring down at him nestled in Sideswipe's embrace Sunstreaker leaned down to face him.
"You're the piece we've been missing."
Blinking away his surprise Miles replayed the conversation over in his head and for once it all made sense. "Oh"
Well almost all of it.
"I'm… what?"
14141414141414
Captain William Lennox made a face and turned away from his team. The soldiers were settled in the afternoon sun, waiting for the debriefing to begin. No matter what it seemed, no super-secret mission was complete without one. To anyone unaware of the fact, it was merely a cadre of men standing in the sunlight. Interspersed with the soldiers were various operatives of Sector Seven awaiting their own lieutenant, who was still under observation for the injuries to his ribs.
Bubbly giggles echoed across the phone in the Captain's hand, underscored by a soothing voice telling him off sweetly. "You see?"
Annabelle Lennox heedless of her mother's mirth gurgled and slapped her hand to the keypad, causing both of her parents to wince.
On the end of the line, Lennox laughed. It was his ladies, his little lady in particular, but he was proud nonetheless. Holding that little bundle of pink topped with fair hair had been the best experience in his life and even if he was away from herm he wasn't about to forget it.
Not ten feet away, Mikaela Banes leaned against Long Arm and looked over the assembled team. Long Arm didn't mind, it was just one more thing he liked about human culture. That and sports. Not that she ever minded herself. She'd always said she had a thing for jocks and Long Arm was almost as much of a muscle head as any of her old boyfriends.
To her left, Trent Demarco reflected on his place in the world. He'd enlisted the day after he'd gotten out of the hospital. To no surprise, his self-appointed guardian Chromia hadn't been pleased, but no one could have swayed him. After all what was more important than saving the planet?
For being a dumb jock, he actually made sense once in a while. His instructors at Basic had thought, so, too. Apparently his father's obsessive need to have a quarterback for a son and his mother's former military experience had shaped the teen into the perfect recruit. Trent, to his credit didn't care. He was doing something he wanted to do and that was all there was to it.
Behind Trent stood his aforementioned guardian, the blue silver femme was close but watching the sky, her blue optics glowing softly in the shadow of her faceplates. It was a look that Mikaela recognized instantly, she'd had such a haunted expression on her own face when lost to her thoughts, especially thoughts relating to her latest ex. It was nothing bad of course, it was just she couldn't help worrying over Sam, and it wasn't just because she hadn't seen him or the fact he was still in the possession of the Decepticons. With a sigh, the agent could only guess what made the twenty foot Hummer look that way.
In the shadow of the tower, Ironhide made small talk with the various soldiers and some of the newer recruits, well as small as he could, considering the size difference between himself and his audience. At the moment, she knew he was talking about his cannons. It was easy to see, since the assembled humans all took a step back at the telltale whine of charging weapons, even William turned briefly before going back to his conversation. Despite the fact he was well entrenched into his conversation, Mikaela knew he wasn't as focused on discussion as he usually was, and it was no secret why, at least not to her.
"Stop psychoanalyzing with your eyes."
Mikaela snapped from her thoughts, focusing briefly on the teen before her. Smiling softly she inclined her head, "What?"
Crossing his arms, Trent shook his head, his bandages half hidden in his collar. "You know exactly what. They're adults, let them figure it out."
Rolling her eyes the brunette moved closer to her ex, boots echoing over the concrete as she moved.
"That's just the problem."
Arching an eyebrow, the former football star slung an arm about her shoulders as she continued. "They won't work it out."
"Just what makes you think that?"
Sighing dramatically as she habitually did, Mikaela Banes tapped her finger against DeMarco's nose. "Because they're stubborn, more thickheaded than even Miles and most of all because-"
The words died on her lips, as the ground shook announcing the two figures slipping from the massive open doors. Simmons nodded as he passed, moving to speak to the Captain directly as the second stood in the doorway looking meaningfully at the other Autobots in the open air.
"-of him" she finished lamely, indicating the ambulance looming over them.
Trent glanced upward, but didn't laugh, rubbing her shoulder in an affectionate gesture as Mikaela looked away.
A small chuckle caught them offguard and the humans turned to see Long Arm rolling forward as he accessed the situation smoothly. "How observant you are. You're really quite a pair."
"A pair?" In that, instant Mikaela Banes was struck by the most obvious solution in the history of all rescue operations, on that could get the assembled teams exactly where they needed to be.
"Sir!"
At the call, everyone turned sharply, facing the woman in black as she moved forward adjusting her tie.
"Why don't we track Sam's cell phone again?"
In the silence that followed, Trent finally started laughing.
14141414141414
Wobbling on his feet, Sam wiped blood from his lips, ignoring the odd taste to the red fluid.
Laughing, Starscream moved closer, lifting a hand to the sickly human as he stared back. Stepping away the avatar of the All Spark moved to run, his heart pounding in his ears as adrenaline rushed through his system. He had to do something, anything. He had to-
A sudden swing and the teen fell back, rolling underneath yet another aircraft. He winced and curled in on himself, trying not to touch anything in such a state. He wasn't going to raise an army, he just couldn't.
A large hand closed about the uniform, dragging him to his feet and higher, slamming him against the jet as he thrashed. Pressing a thumb into his throat Starscream leaned close sharpened nails scraping over the port in his throat. "Don't even try fleshling. Resistance is futile"
Struggling to breathe and fight Sam, was reminded briefly of the last time he was captured and sickeningly enough, of Star Trek as the red eyes smoldered in the dark. Shutting his eyes to the pain, the restrained figure twitched weakly against his captor as the spiraling symbols in his flesh flickered to life. The script blazed under his borrowed clothes, as his hands dropped to the smooth surface of the unknown jet; he writhed, pouring the alien essence into it. The illumination filled the room and Starscream laughed, tossing the chocking fleshling aside as the dark plane came to life, transforming before their eyes.
Jerking to its unsteady feet the mech slammed into the roof, punching a hole through the ceiling, raining debris down over everything as it examined its surroundings. The new seeker fell eerily silent as Starscream moved closer, crowing with pride and success. It seemed to accept his words as truth looking to the scrawny human moving beneath its feet.
The humanoid form of Starscream seemed to flicker and fade as the real thing dropped into view hovering majestically above the hangar in question. Shaking away dust, the All Spark's latest creation leapt into the sky, taking wing with the Air Commander circling lazily, testing its new found abilities. The sounds of gunfire and screams reverberated across the tarmac as Starscream swooped lower reaching for the boy as he sat practically paralyzed in the wreckage.
"Come here, small thing. There is no escape."
Angry and hurt, Sam slipped against yet another jet, the power in his hands sparking silver as he struggled to stand. The intricate lines of his palm lay like a brand on the jet shuddering under his fingers. It was his worst nightmare; there was nothing to do.
Nothing he could do. Screaming angrily, Sam scrambled as best he could with the Decepticon reaching for him.
A sudden snarl silenced Starscream and caught the attention of the seeker circling overhead. Sam dropped again, staring as the silver craft above him rose knocking the Air Commander away. All at once, both jets launched into the air, shifting forms at they spiraled higher. From potshots and strafing attacks the fight evolved into the three-way dogfight.
Sam was up at once, searching for an escape. The barricade of debris, made it rather difficult. As he crawled over a beam, he noticed, black painted words against shattered boxes against the wall. In bold letters glinting in the sun, it proclaimed the words Nellis Air Force. It was then Sam realized, just how far from home he was. Explosions rocked the building and he moved, terrified of becoming another casualty of the fighting seekers.
Turning back towards the door, the staggering teen slipped forward on his knees and found himself face to face with yet another transforming jet. Onyx wings jutted from its sides as the broad curvature of its chest plate glinted in the afternoon sun. Long legs bent gracefully as the huge Cybertronian knelt to face the tiny human. In the shadow of the mech, Samuel Witwicky stared into the familiar azure optics of an Autobot.
Bowing his head, the mech spoke, his voice shaking the teen on his feet. "I recognize you, I know what you are. I do not know not how you have become this way, but am a scientist; and I can help you understand what you're become." The odd faceplates stretched into a smile and the jet offered his hand.
Surprised the teen reached for the fingers and laid his hand over the largest one. Energy flickered between them and Samuel felt himself smiling in return.
"I am known as Skyfire, All Spark."
Sheepishly rubbing a hand through his hair the teen corrected the mech simply. "I'm Sam."
In the seconds after their introduction, two of the three Decepticon planes arced across over the hangar firing at the pair. Expelling air from his vents, the Autobot leapt into the sky veering after their attackers with a quick order to the avatar. "Stay out of sight, I'll be back."
Ducking under a fallen girder, Sam ignored the command as he bolted for the exit. He'd put up with more than his fair share of being a target for one day. As he slipped from the door, however, he was knocked to the ground by a not so gentle nudge from Soundwave. He'd forgotten about him. Staring at the cobalt mech pointing a gun at him Sam swore, Frenzy cackled and all was interrupted by the sudden blast of a well-known horn.
The brilliant paint was scuffed and the lower half of the car was covered in a thick layer of dust. Staring at the car, he was sure a headlight was cracked and the antennae was missing, but the form of Sam's very own alien Camaro was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life.