Chapter Nine

Sam couldn't understand what was wrong. He felt the steady throb of his frantic heartbeat before he felt the unsteady beating of something else, something that blearily reminded him of a heart monitor, or the firing of emblazoned firetrucks. It was unearthly, and yet, it was familiar.

It was someone calling out for him, and only him.

It had the voice of a child.

A sparkling.

xxxxxx

Bumblebee threw himself to the darkened pit below, just in time to feel Rachet's arms go around him, metal gears turning against the sounds of squeaking wheels. There were shouts, and calls, soemthing that rivalled the war cries of the Decepticons. But he knew the truth in all its gory glory. He knew the Autobots had won the battle, and they were the ones who cried for their salvation.

Faintly, he could hear something call Sam's name, and he was aware of the pure, innocent joy that sang from between the chords of his stabbing blue heartbeat.

It was ready. The time had come.

xxxxxx

Sam clawed at the ground, his mouth forming a thin line. He propelled himself away from the truck he once sat at, and reached his hand out toward the open hangar, where he kenw Mikeala would be. The lights of the hangar itself glowed against the dark and starry sky, and he wondered where on earth Bee was. He needed Bee right now.

"Why, what was that Sam? More?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach heaving. There wasn't anything there. He wasn't pregnant. He wasn't the one who had a sparkling growing inside him. So why did this pain feel so real? He nearly screamed when something that resembled a hot iron being placed on his chest suddenly flared into unflinching life.

He rolled over onto his back, and stared at the skies.

"You must be enjoying this-"

He whimpered against the ground, his arms tensing and then relaxing against solid bricks. He felt the weight on his chest, like being pulled down into the hellish ground from above, like the damnation Megatron had sold him to all those weeks ago. Like the firey hands were ready to take him, and keep him. And it was as if no-one was going to be there to see him writhe in agony.

He screamed against the flushed air, and felt lonely, scared, helpless. This pain was blinding him, it was making him jump, making him turn and run. It was making him breathless, it was strangling him. He gripped his palms tightly. He listened to the quiet air around him.

"-We already have done what we needed to do. Sam's punishment has been given… "

Sam? Samuel? the sound of a grainy and hopefilled voice filled his being, and made the pain stop, if momentraily. He breathed out against the exhaustion he felt, the dizziness of his mind overcoming the sheer feeling of joy he recieved when he felt that steady thrum of noise, that voice-

"I will never let that bastard, or any of those bastards near you, ever, ever again. You will not have to come near any of them ever again, and I will protect you, forever, if I have to." Bumblebee's voice filled his ears, and he opened his eyes against the darkness of red and orange lights. He could feel Bumblebee, feel his heartbeat, the blue fire working restlessly against his working frame. The pains prickled down his fingertips, like an unbroken promise, but he ignored them, he ignored them all.

He breathed deeply.

Forever, if I have to-

He had Bee, for forever. And Bee would wait. Bee would wait for forever, if he needed him to. He would take care of the sparkling. He would make sure he was kept safe long after he was gone and had gathered dust six feet under. Everything was going to be okay.

Megatron was gone, he knew. Megatron couldn't hurt them anymore. They were safe.

Samuel? Sam? Sam-Sam-

"I'm right here," he whispered to the relaxed air, watching those twinking stars with the grace of acceptance. He had forever. He had an always. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

There was a laugh, a chuckle, something filmy and ingrained against noise and backdrops that sang their unending songs and spoke with fearless voices. There was a promise, a swear, maybe a curse, but it was there, strong and true.

He gripped the ground as he sat up, his back twitching against the movement and his heart racing against the flashes of pain in his chest. He thought is was unnerving, to feel so much, and all for something so small, and yet so full of life. He also thought it was bizarrely hilarious, to feel the pain of giving birth, and knowing that the child belonged in another body.

"Sam! SAM!"

Mikeala's voice swerved him back into consciousness, back into the reality that he was here, he was sitting on the ground, and that she was running up behind him, her hair flying in wisps of near-black fingers around her face.

"Rachet called- said- You were-" she came to a full stop in front of him, her knees giving out to fall gracefully to the ground. She gathered her arms around his neck. "He said-something about you- You were in pain- Bumblebee-"

"I'm alright," he managed to choke out. "I'm fine, 'Keala. I'm perfectly fine, okay?" He nearly laughed. He felt happy. Truly happy. He felt safe, relaxed, calm. He chuckled, clutching Mikeala's hands and gently breaking free of her hold. "It's okay now. Everything's okay."

It was a start, he knew. It was a beginning, and now the end had to come.

Maybe his world had once ended with a whisper, a whimper of pain. But it began again, like clocks turning against the clockmaker's hand. It began when he heard that voice, the voice of the angel that had come to life under Bee's heart, his lifeforce. The spark that had called his name, softly, tentatively, as if afraid to annoy or worry him.

It was the voice of a child.

Mikeala watched him carefully, before she smiled. "Rachet said the sparkling is safe. They're coming home now. They're almost home."

"That's good," he answered. "I cant wait to see them again. All of them."

A light had dwindled out of him on that night with Megatron. But just as surely as it had gone out, a new light flickered back in it's place, brought about by Bee, by his friends, by the child that was his. And Megatron's.

xxxxx

Bumblebee imagined Sam's face, he imagined them in all their forms: happy, sad, terrified, joyous, angry, annoyed, tired, sleeping... it went on and on. He imagined Megatron's face now, the flickering darkness that had once expelled all evil, all destruction.

And now he was dead.

Rachet mentioned something over him as he slept in his Camero form, the small body of a sparkling lying on the car's seats inside. He said something about miracles, something about endings, and then he mentioned Sam.

"I wonder how it affected him."

Bee's headlights flared to attention, and Ironhide tapped his bonnet. "Would you ever sleep? Primus, we're almost home, and Sam will hound you the second we get back."

"Well, I'd nearly say that's a good thing, considering we bashed the bejesus out of those Decepticons," Lennox countered. Bumblebee could hear the smile in his voice. "We got 'em good."

"Damn straight we did," Epps laughed. "And we got a baby Sam out of it!" Ironhide sniggered.

"That sounds garish, does it not?" Rachet muttered darkly.

"For some reason, I don't think Samuel would mind one bit," Optimus filled in through the awkward cracks. Bumblebee flashed his lights again in agreement...

They were still on the battlefield, hovering over Megatron's soundless body.

It was sudden, and an out of nowhere experience, the immediate light that shone through the cracks of his metal plates, and when he opened his chest, there shone the sparkling.

It's body took form, curving and changing, transforming into something small, tiny, yet real and solid. In that slight second, he could feel Sam, feel his pain and his screaming mind, begging for his help. It alarmed him, all these images, all these feelings, bitter and broken, among the frantic cries of one human against one Decepticon.

For just that second, he could feel what Sam felt, he could see what Sam saw, in those moments when this sparkling came to life.

It frightened him beyond belief, and it terrified him even more for Sam. Out by the hangar, Sam's cries for help wouldn't be heard, Sam's pleas would be deaf and blind to anyone within the building.

Rachet called Mikeala. He told him everything would be alright, and that these small, fragile metal hands that begged for Sam, would soon be cradled within his arms. The sparklng ceased its begging, and those small brown orbs stared at Bee, watching him, reading his soul.

It was bizarre. Bumblebee had never felt it before, this connection. While everyone hovered over this beautiful infant, and it's glowing silver plates, sleek and shiny, it stared at him with the longing to be held and to be loved. Brown orbs, flashing red on its outer ends, it pointed to him, and a blurry voice, soft and childlike, gentle and scared, whispered-

"Daddy."