Sentiments

Part One:

Tremors

He was standing on the precipice, wondering whether or not to leave. His hands stayed where they were: in his pockets. His breath was muffled by the early morning chill, which crept down his neck, freezing his back. It wasn't his fault: he only had a white shirt and pair of black jeans to wear. He managed to savlage a scarf from one of the open lockers in base, and he was going to return it as soon as he felt tired.

He'd stayed up all night, listening to their hushed conversations. Lennox had rang home, saying he wouldn't be able to make it back for a while. He forced many of the men to go home, and rest. Optimus told Sam to sleep over eight hours ago, but he just couldn't relax.

He knew once he closed his eyes, he'd see their bodies, lying strewn across the white tiles of an operating room, Megatron standing over all of them as they screamed, Sentinel standing off in the background. Mearing chanting how it was his fault, Lennox howling for mercy, Epps running away from the bullets in Starscream's gun, and Optimus, lying dead on the ground, hand outstretched toward him. The worst part of his imagination was, the fact he could see Bee and Carly too clearly, like every detail, every scratch on the surface equalled the pain he felt underneath, eyes remaining faced toward the moon, Bee's spark disintegrating, Carly's breath lost from her lungs forever.

No.

Stop thinking. Now.

He took a deep breath, the millionth one he had to take in order to calm himself down in the last few hours. He just couldn't sleep. The thought of closing his eyes drove him nuts.

He felt the cool breeze rise again, ruffling his hot skin. When he opened his eyes, he saw the sun rising, and wondered again if the men were finished their conferences with the Autobots. It dawned on him the fact that he hadn't rang Carly with the latest news, and the very idea of her sitting alone forced him to fish out his phone and ring her. He knew it was the early hours of the morning, but she would be awake, wondering what had happened to him.

It only took three rings- then she picked up.

"Sam? Are you okay? You didn't come home lastnight." There was no pining in her: she knew whatever happened down here at base was important to him, and he felt a sense of pride toward her. She understood: Mikeala hadn't.

"I'm great, I just didn't get the chance to call you in the past few hours. We've been too busy, and, well, Carly, I think something new has come up regarding the Autobots. I-"

"If you have something to do, Sam, that's okay. I'm with you on it. Would you like me down there? I could drop off some clothes if you want?" Her voice was serious, and he was happy. He recalled his conversation with his parents: She is the One.

"Thanks for understanding, and I mean that, Carly. If you want, you can come down. I kind of need a change of clothes, but if you're too tired, I understand-"

"No, I'll be there in an hour. It's alright, Sam. I can't wait to see you." The phone clicked off, and Sam sighed. She understood. She was coming for him, and he felt his heart flutter at her sweetness.

He felt himself shiver against the bitter, crisp morning chill, and decided to turn in. Maybe the cold would make him feel sleepy. At least for an hour. His eyes drifted from the ground below him, up to see Bumblebee standing in the darkness, watching him. Quickly, he brushed off the thought he was having earlier-

Squealing- Pain- Bumblebee's voice hammering through his ears, the tortured sound of someone in so much agony-

Bumblebee stepped out when he knew he was seen. He crouched down, those blue optics softly watching him, hands on knees.

"Mate, you've been 'ere a while- Seen you- Tired- Need rest, now!" the chucking sounds the radio made, gave Sam the courage to try a smile.

"I'm fine, Bee-"

"No more of this! -I won't have it, sweetie! -You can't keep it up when it comes to me—You know we are friends, and—We say—Everything—Together—We watch from the stars." Sam smiled tightly.

"Can't keep anything from you, can I?" Bee shook his head, before making a positive sound.

"Need to sleep, now," Bumblebee pointed toward Sam's chest, and Sam felt himself move slightly from the gentle push his Guardian gave him when he touched the place where his heart was. Sam looked down, eyes closed, smiling genuinely. Bumblebee was fascinated by the pulse of such tiny beings, and even though Sam said nothing about it, he didn't complain when every once in a while, Bumblebee would innocently place one finger on his chest, to feel that heartbeat, reassured that all was working.

Sam sighed. "I can't sleep. I keep having nightmares, Bee. And nothing will get rid of them. I just have to wait till all of this is over, and then I'll sleep a whole week away without waking up." Sam didn't mean to say it like that, and when the last few words were uttered, he saw Bumblebee flinch, before the scout leaned in closer, worried that something was very wrong.

"Can't sleep? Well-Is there anything I can do—To make you feel my love?"

Bumblebee really was a sweet Autobot. He'd do anything to make sure he was okay, safe, happy.

"-You really are a selfless person…"

Sam stopped, his mind caved in, and he ignored whatever was ploughing through his mind next. He felt he was going crazy, but he knew it was just from the lack of sleep.

"Sorry, Bee. I'm just tired, that's all." He smiled again. He had to be strong, even though what he learned from overhearing the others was saddening. He couldn't believe it: they really were pushing themselves to outer space. Optimus would be leading the Autobots away from here, and Lennox was already requesting the ship from NASA. He wondered how much time he had left with Bee, how much time they all had left with the transformers everyone grew to love.

If they travelled to outer space, because of the fact they would search for their home planet, it could take years before they ever bothered to return to them, and by then, they would be gone. There'd be no Sam, no Carly, no Lennox, no Epps, no no-one. He'd be dead, just like the rest of them. His heart felt torn, and he knew what they were planning was very wrong: this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, but he shrugged it off, thinking this was his selfish desire of wanting to stay the same forever.

Of course, Bee mustn't have recognised the obvious yet. Did he?

It felt cruel, the realisation that he couldn't be with his best friend. It made his hands shake in his pockets, and he was glad for the scarf covering his face: at least Bee wouldn't be able to see how sad he really was. He was tired, and he needed to sleep: but if that meant it would take away from this second he had with Bee, then he would have to forget about it. He closed his eyes, and thought of nothing, feeling the queasiness in his stomach die down. Bumblebee shifted closer, his face now a few feet from Sam's.

"Sam?"

"Hm? Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

There really was no warning: all of a sudden, he could feel a robotic hand clamp down on his body, pulling him up off the ground and plunging him into darkness. Sam shouted, feeling the claustrophobia settle on him, closing him into the small space. You'd know Bee was smaller than Optimus without even having to look at them: Bee's hands barely covered over Sam, while Optimus could comfortably tighten around his body without making Sam squeal. Sam had to roll into a fetal position, and when he had, he felt himself being lifted. He was breathing fast from the shock of the darkness, and he could feel his hot breath on Bee's finger plates, causing him to jerk suddenly.

Bumblebee was sitting down: Why?

Sam wanted to call out, but he couldn't. If he shouted out anything, he was afraid of being dropped.

Sam's cold body was pushed up against something, and it was only when the feeling of being in a tight space left him, could he see light in the form of yellow and black plates. The first thing he could tell was that it was warm: lovely heat spread through his frozen limbs, the cold he hardly recognised was there was leaving his body, stepping over the tiredness it left in its wake. He blinked against the light, drowsiness settling over his tense body as he was unwrapped from his tight space. He could feel his body moving, but that was Bee, who was holding him against his chest plates.

He was settling into a sleep, one he was unable to move away from. And even if he could, he knew Bee would hold him tight to the spot. He closed his eyes, reluctantly, listening to the steady whirr of Bumblebee's engine, the heater of the Camero inside him steadily keeping him warm. One robotic hand held his back, keeling out the cold air from the exit of the hangar, the other stretched out to touch his cheek, ever so careful not to hurt him. Sam blurrily wondered if Bee used his touch receptors to feel his heartbeat right now. His whole body was pressed up against the chest plate, and he was dangling from there, his heartbeat fluttering under the sleep he was being induced to.

He took a deep breath, as Bumblebee said, "Haven't spoken to you since the beginning of winter, mate."

"Yeah. Are you okay, Bee?" Sam mumbled, trying not to fall off into the land of dreams. "You seem, quiet."

"Moments like this—Make me feel happy. Want. To. Hold. What's. Left- Now. Forever," Bee replied, feeling Sam drift off into the world of oblivion. He remained speechless, listening to the steady rise and fall of Sam's breath. Sam tightened his grip on Bumblebee's plates.

"We have a lot of time, Bee. All the time in the world," Sam replied sleepily.

"When I saw you—Dead—Thought you wouldn't come back, soldier. You lay there—Dead—Heard no heartbeat—Wanted you—Come home—Where you belong—Always." Sam's eyes opened, looking up toward the scout's eyes. In them he could see the pain, and he wondered if Bee could see it mirrored in his.

"I didn't want to go, Bee. I never did. But I had to do it, 'cause if I didn't, then all of you wouldn't be here, and by now I wouldn't either. We'd be dead. It was the right choice, and if I had to do it again, I would." Sam sighed when he felt Bumblebee push his head down on his metal plate. Bumblebee could tell Sam was very much afraid of what he had to do: he could tell by the thready beat of his heart as it began to beat wildly out of control. "I was scared, Bee. I didn't want to do it. Mearing was right, Dylan was right: I can't help anyone, or save anyone, or do anything other than be the freaking Messenger."

Sam felt his eyes close against his will, letting all the pain go, and feeling himself lost among the sea of warmth around him. There were tears pricking his closed lids, and he felt a few of them escape, whimpering softly, before he drifted off to sleep in Bumblebee's hands.

A/N: Heh...

This is MY FAVOURITE PART! XPP

I LOVE Bumblebee and Sam! N'awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! (... Please wait while I go into cardiac arrest...)

Thank you everyone for reviewing and I hope you continue to watch over me and this story until it reaches it's end. You words mean a lot more to me than you'll ever know...

(onto the next chapter... MORE BEEXSAM MADNESS! Mwahahahaha!)

xoxoxoxoxox