Chapter 6

U+ Ur Hand

"I'm not here for your entertainment, you don't really wanna mess with me tonight"

He had gotten sick on the flight.

It wasn't just airsickness. He never got sick. His parents had been frantic. They knew he didn't get sick. What they didn't know was why he was sick to begin with. He did.

Sam was going just a little bit crazy. Or maybe that should be a lot. Yeah, definitely a lot crazy.

He had had a headache buzzing behind his eyes since he met the femme Strikezone and it was only getting worse. It was way closer to a migraine now and what had made him throw up on the plane. With the growing headache, came the voices.

They were old and so deep he could feel it in his bones with a tone like ringing church bells. They were quiet for all that, though, so quiet he could barely make out what they were saying. Even then, it wasn't English, no language a human throat could produce and one he was sure very few Cybertronians still spoke.

These were Primes in his head and the symbols of a long-dead language.

A language he couldn't read.

The glyphs were new. The info dump the All Spark had performed in Mission City had allowed him to understand Cybertronian when spoken but the glyphs had remained gibberish to him until now. Well, it's still gibberish but now it's repeating gibberish. Gibberish that was giving him a migraine and having to help his father corral his partially high mother was not helping. Dealing with his crazy roommate and his kitten calendars was also not helping. Which was why he went to that party. He was hoping that he could lose Leo in the crowd, drink a little too much and forget.

Because there were things in his mind too horrifying to dwell on. He felt far too old for his body, too old to be just nineteen and he was owed this. Sam knew that that was the real reason he didn't protest when Optimus suggested he go to college. He just wanted to get away and focus on something other than war and memories that weren't his of people that weren't people shedding acidic blood that wasn't blood at all.

Sam just wanted to see if he could be Sam again, the old Sam, naive, carefree, civilian Sam.

He should have known better. He wasn't just Sam Witwicky the civilian anymore. Not even close. No, he was Sam Witwicky the historian for an entire race, the holder of all the accumulated knowledge of Cybertron and the almost-brother of the best Prime they've had since before the Golden Age. He meant something to the Autobots and Primus (he was beginning to talk like them now) he didn't know why he was running from that. It felt good to be wanted and needed like that. Not like him and Mikaela, because he knew that he and Mikaela weren't it for each other, but warm and stable like family.

But now he was at this party and boy, did he regret it. The music was pounding and techno with a beat he recognized that gave him an even worse headache. A feat he had hoped wasn't possible.

Sam had always prided himself on being smart. Or, at least, he prided himself on having more average intelligence and common sense than some- most- people he knew. This party was quickly showing him otherwise. The second he split off from Leo, his head started pounding louder than the music and the voices started up again. He was beginning to be able to pick out individual voices and it was getting easier to understand their frantic, frenzied speech. He even talked back sometimes, in the fever dreams he had been keeping from his parents, and when you treated the voices in your head like they're separate entities, you know you're on the track to crazy. Even if they actually are separate entities. Or something.

He headed to the drinks, hoping the alcohol would dull the screaming in his head, and of course he was wrong, he seemed to always be when it came to this thing in his head. Sam didn't even make it all the way to the drinks before the 'episode' he should have felt coming kicked in. He had been having them as long as the dreams but never like this. He could usually control it, stop himself until he got to paper and pencil- there was a notebook for this very purpose half full in his dorm right now. This was completely out of his control, his hands moving without him telling them to, the glyphs rolling across the back of his eyelids and blinding him to everything but those ancient symbols. They were almost making sense, just a little bit more-

"Are you okay?" Sam's head snapped up and he heard his own neck popping. He didn't like that voice, didn't like the low sultriness in it. That was a voice that wanted something from a girl who knew how to get it. Suddenly, he wanted out, an itchy feeling under his skin making him need to move and a stifling heat that wasn't there a moment ago. He just knew that there was something somewhere in that frat house he did not want to be in the same room with.

"No. Ah, hm- I was getting a napkin for my drink," he grabbed a drink and napkin, discreetly smearing what he had scribbled on the table so that it was indecipherable. "Thanks. Cheers," he said, trying to move around the blond girl.

"It's Sam, right?" This girl obviously couldn't take a hint and he sort of recognized her from his supermodel filled dorm. He thought her name was Ally or Allison… Jessica! No, Alice. That was it. Alice.

"Yeah," and he hated that his voiced squeaked like the first time he spoke to Mikaela back in junior high and almost every time since then.

"I wanna dance." So she couldn't take a hint and she was pushy. Great.

"What, like... like dancing? Like a pairing? Like a duo? Like a coupling? 'Cause I'm in a permanently, uh, semi, semi... I'm in a relationship, kind of..." Sam was back to his stuttering but he couldn't really be blamed this time. This girl was way too far into his personal bubble.

"Oh, relax. I just want to have some fun," she gave a freakishly predatory smile and he understood the term 'on the prowl' very suddenly.

And, again, he very much liked his personal space bubble so he pushed around the freaky blond girl and sat at the table. "You wanna have some fun? Yeah, okay. Let's play some checkers. You can sit over there and-" Sam found himself very forcefully slammed against the bar with the drinks and this thin little girl should not have been able to do that. "Oh, oh my…"

She plopped herself in his lap and leaned in, that seductress tone and shark tooth smile back in full force, "So, how about tonight you pretend I'm your girlfriend and I pretend that you're my boyfriend?"

This was so wrong on so many levels. He may not have the guts to tell Mikaela that he loved her but that didn't mean he would cheat on her. No, he wouldn't dare do that, not to that girl because she deserved so much better than Sam. But he already felt like he had betrayed her and he couldn't figure out why and something smelled like motor oil and- energon? This girl, Alice, leaning over him smelled like-

"Hey! Who drove the freaking yellow Camaro? Huh? There is a car on the lawn!" The loud shout somehow burst Sam's little panic induced bubble and he dumped the girl off his lap, quickly forgetting that odd smell.

Because Bumblebee could not be there. Not now. Primus, not now.

He ran through the people- he really should have been on the track team or something- to get to the front door because he really doubted anyone around here owned a yellow Camaro. Then he heard that annoying car alarm that could only come from one thing. And he was right. He was starting to hate being right. Sam wasn't sure how he knew that the shiny 2009 Camaro in front of him was Cybertronian, let alone friendly, but he was certain it was his best friend. Why he was parked in the bushes was a whole other story. The boy leaned into the window, his face red from embarrassment, and hissed "What are you doing?"

"Houston, we have a problem."

Slag. Not even a full day at college and there was already a problem. He had a feeling it was of life-changing proportions this time, too. His feelings hadn't been wrong lately. "What is it?"

"Freshman!" Sam spun- how had the guy known?- and faced two of the frat boys that lived in the house. One was tall and beefy and the other was short and twice as beefy. Real variety around here. "Yeah?"

"That your car in our bushes?" said the taller one. He had the same annoying jock vibe that Trent had always given off.

"No, there's a- there's a friend of mine. He just went to, ah, get you a tighter shirt," because that sounded so convincing. But the dude was wearing a shirt that looked two sizes too small for him.

The shorter one was turning red, almost shaking. "There isn't a tighter shirt! We checked," he paused to fist bump with his friend like the morons they so obviously were. How did they get into Princeton? "Now how about I park my foot in your ass?"

"What sized shoe do you wear?" And there was the sarcasm that had been missing for a few hours.

"Yeah?" the tall one said. The shorter one started to go down the steps, "Oh, you want- you want-?"

Sam back up and raised his hands, "Hold on."

"You wanna try?"

"I'll back it up right now." He hit Bee's hood and moved toward door. Leo popped up from nowhere before he could get in though. Seriously, where did these guys keep coming from? Leo had this stupidly shocked look on his face. "You have- whoa-ho, you have a ride? Bro, why are you holding out on us?"

"I've only known you for seventeen hours," because, apparently his All Spark addled brain had been keeping track. Right down to the second. He slipped into the car as Leo dreamily said, "This is really gonna change our lives. You have no idea."

"I love Camaros." Dammit, she was back. He did not have time for her. "Ah, no. I can't do this right now, okay?

"

She slid herself into the car- why hadn't Bee locked himself?- and frowned. "Don't be a wimp."

"Oh god." Because, whatever it was, of course Bee couldn't wait long enough to dump this chick out before he went speeding off, almost running over a couple of drunk students.

"My first car was my dad's '92 Z28."

"Yeah?" and his voice was still cracking. Stupid long-legged girl and trying to keep his eyes on the road.

"Fuel-injected. The roar of the engine, it just… tickles me," she ran her hand up the inside of her thigh as she spoke, shifting to show more skin.

He caught himself staring and jerked his gaze back to the road. "We shouldn't stare… uh, I mean share stories with each other at all." Wow, he was really freaking smooth tonight, wasn't he? Even though he really was tired of hearing this girl's voice.

"Oh, come one Sam. Just one ride."

"Your cheatinnnnnn' heart," broke the silence. Seemed like Bee finally got a clue about this chick. At the wrong moment. He banged his palm on the dashboard, "Don't. Don't!"

"She's a super freak, super freak, she's super freaky"

She raised an eyebrow, "Is something wrong with your radio?"

"No, my concentration is."

There was an annoying little smirk on her face as she leaned her elbow on the window. "We're not cheating… not yet." He guessed Bee figured out her little game out then because her seat twitched, moving back and forth. "Is something… wrong here?" And that was when Bee really went all out. The passenger seat bent forward and slammed her face into the dashboard.

"Ow, God! Are you okay?" So Sam may not have liked that girl but he didn't want her hurt. Why would Bee do that, anyway? That was a really vicious move right there and really dangerous. Alice could have died and the Bee would be in trouble. Sam didn't want that.

Of course, most of the sympathy disappeared when the girl turned and opened her mouth, "Ow," looking more pissed than hurt. Seriously, there wasn't even a bruise on her forehead.

"She's mighty, mighty…"

"I don't know what to tell you. This car has a lot of problems. A lot…" And Bee decided to show just how many problems he had. A cap popped off on the passenger side dashboard that Sam hadn't even known existed and started spraying the girl with green… stuff. Sam didn't even want to know what it was. What did Bee have against this chick? It couldn't have just been her coming onto him earlier. Alice just sat there, a slightly surprised expression on her face as she lifted her arms in a weak attempt to block the liquid Bee was still spraying. "Oh! Oh, God! It's in my mouth! Oh, are you okay? I got wet naps. I got wet naps for your face!" he knew he was being a spaz but he couldn't help it right then. It was in his mouth. Whatever it was.

She just gave him a dirty look and, for once tonight, he understood the look. She just kept silent, not even saying anything when Bee parked in front of the dorms and opened her passenger door. She didn't even turned when he yelled after her to see what she was doing. It was obvious she was going back to her room but he still felt bad about it.

Sam didn't even bother yelling at his friend when he slid back into the car. He just settled down in the smooth leather seat and crossed his arms, not saying a word the rest of the way. He watched as the sky lightened up and Bee pulled into a cemetery. Somehow he wasn't surprised at who was waiting for him. Who else would have been able to pull off such haste?

"Huh. You won't give me a day, huh? You won't give me one day in college?" Sam said as he stepped out of Bee. He wasn't honestly surprised that they had shown up in his life again. What did surprise him was how long it took. He had had the chance to unpack and go to a party. He applauded the restraint of whatever deity that had made him the universe's chew toy.

Optimus stepped out from the huge memorial that that he had been standing behind. "I'm sorry, Sam, but the last fragment of the All Spark was stolen," and the Prime truly did sound sorry, like it was his fault that this had happened. It wasn't and Sam wanted to say that but all that came out was, "Like what? Like Decepticons stole it?" Dumb question.

"We placed it under human protection at your government's request. But I am here for your help, Sam. Because your leaders believe we brought vengeance upon your planet. Perhaps they are right. That is why they must be reminded by another human of the trust we share." There was a thinly veiled anger and almost hurt in his voice that Sam never would have heard two years ago when he first met that mech. It was like he thought that the humans didn't protect it well enough, like they had just given it away to all their worst enemies. Maybe Prime knew something Sam didn't, but, as far as the human knew, the government had given the thing the best protection they had. It obviously wasn't enough.

"This isn't my war." Oh, what a cruel lie. It may not have been a war waged by his own species but he felt like he was a part of the whole thing. He had seen so many mechs live their lives only to die in this war, had seen so many sparks gutter out and he had felt every single one at some point or another. Thanks to an accident decades ago, he was a part of this. He had dropped a whole race and future into the chest of his first enemy out for his blood. Like it or not, this war was a part of him now.

The Prime's optics dimmed and his shoulders drooped forward slightly. It wasn't much, but Sam noticed. The mech carried the weight of two worlds on his overworked shoulders. "Not yet. But I fear it soon will be. Your world must not share the same fate as Cybertron. Whole generations lost." He sighed and shook his head.

"I know, and I..." want these voices out of my head, but no one knew about those and no one needed to. "I want to help you, I do, but I'm not some alien ambassador, you know?" just a history book for your kind. "I'm a normal kid with normal problems." Like the voices of ancient aliens in his head and memories of war and blood that wasn't blood that weren't ever meant to be seen by human eyes. "I am where I'm supposed to be." By your side, and that new instinct hadn't been wrong yet. "I'm sorry. I... I really am." Because he couldn't dredge up the courage to help them. Not then.

Optimus took one huge step forward as Sam began backing down the hill they were on. His voice was weary when he said, "Sam, fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing."

Sam stopped by Bee's open door. He looked up at the giant before him. To think that this being actually needed his help was incredible and implausible, "You're Optimus Prime. You don't need me," but he had been around them long enough to know that they needed just like humans. Again, that instinct insistently whispered, he does. He desperately does. That All Spark given instinct had not been wrong yet, but he got in the car anyway and ignored it because he was young and cold to the spark- heart, his human heart- and scared.

Maybe Sam Witwicky was just a coward.