Dear Karma

A Transformers Story

Co-Written by Mein Benutzername and A Humble Reader

Beta and Advisor: icanhascamaro

Note: Welcome to the next chapter in Dear Karma. We apologize profusely for the long absence. Unfortunately, all of the shit in our collective possession decided to hit the fan at the same time. Now that we're back, we hope you enjoy what we've managed to produce.

And, though it is incredibly late, we hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

Words: 7580

Pages: 25

Chapter 5

A Horrible Day to Remember

In which everything starts off sucking, and continues forward in the same manner until one is looking forward to the original activity they dreaded. And then it gets worse.

Sam didn't sleep well.

Sam didn't sleep well at all.

In fact, if it weren't for that one horrible time in summer camp, she would probably have to say it was the worst night of "sleep" she had ever had in her life.

The first hour of grumpy sleeplessness was occupied with Sam hesitantly picking up trains of thought, and then proceeding to observe silently and helplessly as they got stuck on the wrong tracks and crashed into each other at warp speed. She couldn't focus on anything, and honestly all that she wanted to do was go to sleep. Unfortunately, just because she couldn't think straight, it did not mean she could stop thinking.

It didn't help that she was laying on the most uncomfortable bed in existence.

She bet whoever made this damn bed made that uncomfortable chair, too.

After three and a half hours of restlessness, the teenager broke. She couldn't take it anymore. She must have kicked and rolled and shifted across the stupid thing a billion and one times.

Swinging her legs off of the bed-imposter, Sam groaned and shuffled in the dark until she found the light switch by the door. She flicked it up, only to be met with no holy light coming from the cheap 5-watt bulb that she was sure had been picked out just for her.

She continued to flick the switch.

Nothing happened.

Sam cursed.

"God damn it! I just want to take a shower, you asshole! Let me turn on the damn light so I can see where I'm going!"

Her newly made nemesis and eternal rival, the unresponsive light switch, held true to its title and continued to do absolutely nothing and be unresponsive while she repeatedly slammed it up and down in the vain hope of turning on the lights.

Again, nothing happened.

"You piece of shit! Work!" Sam whispered darkly. Clearly not in full possession of her faculties, the girl continued angrily turning the switch from "off" to "on" and back again, and again, and again.

For a moment, some Einstein quote about the definition of insanity being 'doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results' popped into her head and it caused her to pause in her abuse of the wall fixture.

After a few seconds of internal deliberation she muttered "fuck Einstein" and continued as she had been previously.

After slowly losing her mind for an undetermined amount of time, Sam finally gave up after realizing that even if the lights came on, she didn't have any clothes to change into, and knowing her luck, there probably wasn't a towel.

Way more exhausted than one should be from simply flicking a light switch, she finally stumbled over to the bed and gracelessly belly flopped onto the rock- er, mattress.

"I hate everything." She murmured through the sheets.

Somewhere across the top secret facility she was staying in, Sam just knew that some asshole watching the security feed was laughing his or her respective ass off at that very moment.

The next day greeted Sam much the way it had various other mornings in the past; with a slap to the face. Just because she happened to be in a particularly frustrating and stressful situation made no difference now.

It was even surprisingly courteous in its method to rouse her from the lack-luster slumber she had miraculously fallen into with something a little more familiar to her; something startled her awake and she fell onto her face on the unforgiving concrete floor. Like she usually did.

Sam hated mornings.

Luckily by the time the thing that startled her awake came into her room (invasion of privacy, much? She could have slept naked for all they knew.) she had scrambled into some semblance of sitting with her legs crossed on the floor.

When she finally registered exactly who it was that woke her up, she just groaned and slowly climbed back into her horrible, uncomfortable bed.

"Go away. I don't like you." Sam grumbled. She pouted and fluffed the rock serving as a pillow after picking it up off the floor, and then collapsed onto the bed again, her face burying itself in said rock with a sigh.

Paul chuckled from his spot leaning against the doorframe. His arms were crossed casually over his chest but he still wore a similar (if not identical?) plain black suit, just like all of the other times she had seen him.

"I see. So you're still not happy with me then?"

Grunt.

Sam was running on too little sleep to deal with this man.

"Alright, I can accept that." He carried on conversationally. "But you have things to do today; places to be, sights to see."

Sam groaned into the pillow before turning her head to the side so he could hear her. She could muster up enough energy to comment on that abomination of speech.

"Did you seriously just make a rhyme to try and get me to move? Ugh." The girl her head back into the bundle, she muttered quietly to herself. "I remove all previous assumptions about you having children. You know nothing of kids, or teenagers, or...anything. Ugh."

Paul just laughed at her again and came over to the bed to sit down on the edge and lightly shake her shoulder.

"Regardless of my poor attempts at poetry, you really do need to get up." He said. He was jostling her shoulders lightly and the girl swatted him away tiredly. Sighing, Paul went on anyway, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "First we have to get some food into that stomach of yours, and then it's off for another session of boring- oops, excuse me, I mean 'Serious questioning', about everything you know. Then, after our few hours together in torture-"

Sam snorted despite herself.

"-It will be time for you to see Doctor Barnes again for your next test."

Sam's amusement suddenly died.

She groaned again.

Muffled, but still audible, Sam whined at Paul.

"Do I haaaaaaave tooooo?"

Paul just chuckled again and shifted in his spot on the bed.

"Unfortunately, you do. Now, you've got about an hour before any of that starts, so you can get dressed and things, and I'll be back here to get you-"

"Wait!" Sam flipped herself on her back and sat bolt upright in the bed. Ignoring the sheets now tangled around her legs, she grasped Paul's arm as though it were a life line. Quickly realizing the error, she let go as though burned. Paul, caught a little off guard, paused for a moment to look at her.

"Uh...yes?"

Sam, with her hand still outstretched from when she called out to him, narrowed her eyes and lowered her arm slightly.

"...Are there towels in the bathroom?"

Paul blinked. "I...think so...why do you-"

Sam cut him off with a smoldering glare and a grunt of disapproval. "Check." She hissed. She was pretty sure every single sliver of dream she had was about her getting in the shower, having no god damn towels when she got out, and running naked down the halls looking for one. There was no way in hell she was allowing anything to jinx herself and therefore she would use Paul as a failsafe. (After all, she was the one the universe liked to screw with the most, wasn't she? If Paul checked it would be more likely that she had towels. Or, something like that. If she thought too hard about it, it didn't make much sense, but she was beyond rational thought at that point.)

After a moment Paul sighed, smiled, and shrugged, going into the bathroom and checking the cabinet for her. He came out a moment later with a stack of surprisingly fluffy looking towels in his hands, which he placed at the foot of her bed.

Upon seeing the desired items, she relaxed and lowered her arm fully.

"Okay. You can go now." Sam dismissed. Paul grinned a little more and ruffled her hair, earning him a grumpy smack to fend off his evil government-funded hair-ruffling digits, before making his way out of the room again.

"Glad to have permission, your highness. Your suitcases are by the door, along with a note from your mother. Be dressed and ready before seven." And with that he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him before what sounded like a deadbolt locking finalized the motion.

Sam sighed. Slowly, she turned herself around until she was able to slide face and arms first off of the bed until eventually she was laying completely on the smooth concrete, sheets still tangled up in her legs. After a few minutes, she sighed and crawled over to her things, noting her purse was with the suitcases. She opened that first, searching for her phone amidst the random junk she usually had shoved in there. (She noted they had left her valentine alone. She cursed herself that even more people had seen it by now.)

No phone.

God damn the stupid secret government agencies.

Sam glared at the bag before tossing it a few feet away from her, feeling frustrated. It slid harmlessly across the concrete and she scowled. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and pulled her clothes suitcase near where she sat on the floor with the other. The note from her mom was tossed to the side, to be read later. Rummaging through the clothing, she grabbed a pair of jeans, the...necessities, and a T-Shirt with some words on the front. She didn't really bother reading it, but rather glanced at the color, a plain gray, shrugged, and then moved for the bathroom. She snagged two towels on the way in, and proceeded to take the fastest shower of her life.

Evidently, the hot water went fast when you had an unknown number of soldiers (presumably) living on base who (probably) woke up at the crack of dawn.

Sam was in and out in about seven minutes, a personal (and probably world) record.

She immediately threw her hair up in a towel before drying off with the other and getting dressed. She then dumped both of the wet towels on the floor more out of habit than anything else, and meandered back into the other room. Upon losing the towel, her hair quickly returned to its natural state of tumbleweed. (Even wet. Sigh.) She eyed the bed for a moment, and then decided against its false offer of comfort. Sam walked over to her bags, sitting down with her legs crossed to figure out what exactly had been packed for her 'camping trip.'

She quickly sent mental thanks that it had been a camping trip.

Most of the stuff was, luckily, plain T-shirts and not some of her nicer ones that were saved for restaurants, movies, occasionally school, and mother-daughter work days. She sometimes wondered why her mom still dragged her to those.

T-Shirts and jeans. She could make it through this.

Sam pulled out a pair of socks and shoved the effectively disorganized suitcase away from her, now inspecting the smaller one. This one held bathroom stuff, minimal amounts of makeup she probably wouldn't ever bother using, and maybe some games or something. A book.

Opening the bag to peer inside, Sam sifted through the contents, cataloguing them silently as 'awesome', 'useless', and 'acceptable.' Until she hit the jackpot.

Her mom had apparently been feeling absolutely generous one day, either her or her conniving government boyfriend, because she held before her the holy grail of all kinds of trips, ever.

It was two Ziploc containers of candy and other snacks, complete with a full sized bag of barbeque flavored chips resting untouched among her other items.

Sam wondered if the wetness in her eyes was real as she held the containers close.

"There is a god." She murmured happily.

After a few minutes of over-dramatic weeping and tears of unbridled joy, Sam snagged some Starburst and Hershey Kisses to carry in her purse. The Hershey's would get eaten first, so that they wouldn't melt, of course, but the Starburst had an undetermined lifespan.

After rationing out that day's junk food, she slipped on the socks and grabbed her brush, comb, hair dryer and straightener, and dragged it all to the bathroom to go through her daily battle.

The brunette beast didn't go down without a fight, after all.

Ten or fifteen minutes later her hair was dry, brushed, and tame. Sam dragged herself back to her bag to dig for a toothbrush and went on with that morning ritual as well.

When she deemed herself officially done with all of the getting ready that would be required of her that day, she managed to flop ungracefully onto the unforgiving mattress, sigh, and close her eyes for a precious few moments.

Getting ready in the morning shouldn't have been so exhausting.

Knock knock knock.

Sam rolled her head to the side at the noise.

"Ma'am, it's time to get going."

"Oh. Uh. I'm coming, hold on just a few minutes." Again dragging herself out of bed, she scrambled for her shoes and just barely remembered to shove the note from her mom in her pocket to look over later. She snatched her purse and approached the door. "Uhm..."

There was a clunk as the deadbolt was unlatched and the regular lock undone. The door swung open to reveal yet another solider boy – Sam had to wonder if they were ever going to send the same guy twice. The chances of that happening appeared to be slim.

The guy motioned for her to step outside, and she did, turning around to watch him lock the door again, even though...nobody was inside. So her stuff wouldn't get stolen? He turned, made a "follow me" gesture, and began walking away without waiting to see if she was following.

Grumbling a tiny "rude" under her breath, Sam ran a few steps to catch up with him. Now that it was (presumably?) morning, there were a few people walking around, but none of them paid any attention to her. Feeling curious and definitely more awake than she had been when she got there, she glanced around.

As it turned out her first impression of boring, dull metal walls was totally off base. The walls were either concrete or a washed out green, or gray. Evidently she had been imposing her own pre-conceived impressions of what a Military base should look like over everything.

There were some yellow or white painted stripes along the top edge of the halls that occasionally had random numbers and letters in black inside them. The fluorescent lights were also annoyingly bright, and Sam was feeling the beginnings of a mild headache, but that was nothing new.

Besides the walls and the occasional others walking by, there wasn't exactly much to look at. The floor was an unpleasant reminder of the linoleum tiles at school, so she didn't waste more than a quick glance studying that.

Turning her attention inwards as she rounded another corner with sir silent asshole, she wondered where they were going. She was hoping beyond hope it was somewhere that had food, because she was hungry. One late nightMcDonald's meal just wasn't enough for a girl used to a limitless supply of junk food and soda.

Well, okay, not limitless, but they usually had at least something on hand at home.

And, damn it, now that she thought about it, hadn't her mom just bought some mint chocolate-chip ice cream? She lived for mint chocolate-chip!

And because of this stupid government kidnapping business, Sweetie was probably going to be home alone for a while. Well, unless her mom was home more since she wasn't planning her "camping trip" anymore.

Anyway, back to the topic of food...Paul did say she'd be getting breakfast first, right?

She couldn't even remember. Jeez, she should probably start listening more. Speaking of listening, or well, paying attention anyway, it looked like they had stopped.

"Please take a seat and wait inside. Someone will be with you shortly."

Sam glanced at sir silent asshole and hesitantly nodded before stepping inside.

It was another interrogation room. She spun around when she heard the door shut behind her and scowled. Bringing her hands up to tug at her hair in frustration, she groaned loudly and glared with all of her might at what was clearly a one-way window...mirror...thing. Like in cop shows? Yeah, it was one of those.

Feeling decidedly like a petulant brat, she took off her purse and tossed it on the metal table, took a few more steps inside, and then she collapsed on the floor.

The floor in here was concrete, and it was cold, and she probably looked like an idiot, but there was no way she was going to sit in that chair again.

Because it was the same kind of chair. She would not subject herself to such torture again.

Suddenly remembering that she had candy in her purse, Sam slowly rolled onto her stomach and looked towards her bag. It was on the edge of the table, the strap waving down below and just out of her reach as if to taunt her.

Contemplating for a moment, she pondered on whether or not it would actually be worth it to get up again and grab her candy. She decided it wasn't. Making it look like she didn't have any food at all before her questioning began would give her more room to complain.

She had also gone to quite a bit of theatrical trouble to properly portray her decided petulance. If she got off the floor now, it would take away from the over-all impact, and she couldn't have that.

Also, the floor was actually surprisingly nice.

But, moving away from these irreverent things, she was now stuck on the surprisingly nice floor with nothing to do until the next poor soul showed up.

Luckily, it was at that moment that the next poor soul happened to walk in.

Sam rotated herself on the floor awkwardly until she could see who was now in the room with her. Sam's first reaction was to scowl...until she saw the bag of blessed redemption in his hand, and the smoothie in the other.

Her arms shot forward immediately as the teen began to wiggle her way towards him, her eyes locked on those beautiful golden arches.

"Paul, you shouldn't have! Oh boy, are those cinnamon rolls? Please tell me those are cinnamon rolls. I'm so hungry jeez my stomach is practically eating itself and-" she stopped abruptly in her slow progression across the floor, hands still outstretched. Behind the smiling countenance of her most hated/loved secret government agency grunt were two clearly amused men in military outfit, just like everybody else on the base.

Oh, the mortification. All thoughts of being purposefully difficult fled her mind at once, and any plans she had made previously were subsequently destroyed under the proverbial boot of crushing embarrassment.

As quickly as she could Sam scrambled to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. Doing her best to look nonchalantly neutral and uncaring, and ultimately failing to repress the surge of color rushing to her cheeks, she stared at them for a few moments in silence before she regained her voice. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Uhm...is that for me?"

Paul, by some miracle, managed to effectively restrain his laughter, but the stupid grin on his stupid, governments owned face only grew wider to compensate.

"It is. I thought I'd speed up the process a bit and grab some breakfast for you to eat here so we could start early." Paul stopped inside and the two men behind him stepped in after him.

The door clicking shut was like a death sentence. She was going to be locked in a room with two strangers who saw her crawling around on the floor like an idiot. For hours.

She couldn't look at them. She scurried over to her chair and yanked her purse off the table, shoving it in her lap as she sat down.

All three of them were grinning. Sam imagined their heads exploding into confetti.

Paul and his two gun-toting friends (who actually, thankfully weren't carrying any guns on them right now) took their seats across from her at the table. She snatched the bag of Mickey D's from Paul when he offered it to her, setting that in her lap as well before removing the glorious smelling cinnamon melty goodness that was inside. She dropped the bag on the floor and grabbed the smoothie, carefully avoiding making eye contact or looked directly at them.

Paul had his hands clasped in front of him on the table, the (dumb) understanding smile that he always seemed on to have plastered on his face and making itself known now.

The solider to her left (and technically his right) was leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed casually. He seemed like he was waiting for something, as far as Sam could tell.

The other man was actually the first black person Sam had seen since coming to the secret government base of secrets, which honestly hadn't struck her until right then. He seemed pretty relaxed, and was leaning back in his chair calmly with his hands clasped in his lap. He was to Sam's right (Paul's left.)

She sipped her smoothie warily, eyes darting up to glance at them from time to time. Otherwise, she still couldn't bring herself to look at them fully. Her cheeks still felt like they were on fire.

Paul finally broke the silence.

"Alright then, Sunny-"

Sam jolted upright from her previous puddle of embarrassment goo and nearly spewed her smoothie.

Unacceptable.

"Don't call me that! That is not my name! My name is Sam! I don't go around calling you Paulie, mister!"

She had one finger pointed accusingly in his face and was ready to start spitting hellfire before she remembered that she wasn't exactly holding a private audience with stupid Paul. She shifted back into her horrid chair and took another sip of her drink, missing the matching incredulous looks between the two nameless solider grunts and the silent question of "Sunny?"

"...I thought we already had this discussion." She grumbled, daring to shoot Paul a quick glare before tucking in to her cinnamon rolls with vigor.

Paul chuckled and nodded absently as he began organizing the files he brought with him on the table. Some large, rectangular pieces of photo paper that were flipped over so she couldn't see what was on them, a clipboard, another recording device thing, random colored files, a (blank?) notepad of paper, and her personal file.

(She knew it was hers because the poor thing looked abused, and in a moment of immaturity she had doodled some poorly drawn stick men slaughtering each other. She also snuck in a few penises, but Paul never saw her do that. She had to hold back a grin when she spotted a tiny one on the corner.)

"Yes, yes. My apologies, Sam. It just slipped my mind." He gave the teen another deceptively sincere grin. She just scowled. Paul pulled out a pen and clicked it in preparation to write, before setting it down on the table. He then dug through his coat pockets until he found a mechanical pencil and rolled it to Sam, who nudged it away from her food, but otherwise left it alone. She sighed and went ahead and tugged the notepad over to her side as well.

Idly, Sam wondered what the two military grunts were doing here. She settled on "intimidation factor" and would assume it as such until she was told otherwise. Because seriously? She could see no other reason for them to be there.

"Alright Sam, unfortunately, you know the drill. We'll start with some basic questions and then you'll write down everything you can remember about Skywarp and the beach ball again." Paul smiled again.

Sam merely shifted in her seat instead of answering and continued to eat her breakfast. She did notice the glances these two army boys were giving each other though. She wondered absently if they even actually knew what was going on.

An awkward silence fell over the room as they waited for Sam to finish her meal, and despite the renewed need to be a huge pain in the butt, she began eating as fast as humanly possible without being disgusting.

When she was done she had half a smoothie left and her trash had been stuffed back into the bag it came in. Paul cleared his throat with another absolutely obnoxious smile.

"Alright. Can you please state your full name, and your mother's name?" He began, already scribbling on his clipboard, his little recording thing humming quietly in the background.

Sam released an exasperated gust of air from her lips and quickly adjusted herself. She plunked her head into the palm of one hand and thunked her elbow on the table, still sipping her smoothie absently. She hated this.

"Samantha Hope Johnson. Katherine Diane Johnson." Paul nodded and continued.

"And your father?" Sam grunted.

"Dunno." She said after a moment. The boys (well, men, but it made her feel better to call them boys) who seemed to be there for no greater purpose than confusing her exchanged some more looks, but Sam ignored them.

"And how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Any pets?"

"My Golden Retriever, Sweetie Pie."

"And what is the name of the city you and your mother live in?"

"Bullhead."

"Any medical conditions?"

"Does a severe and rapidly increasing aversion to the government count?"

Paul shot her a sharp look and she rolled her eyes with another sigh.

"No."

Paul nodded, and clicked off his recorder. He gestured to the paper and pencil, and Sam reluctantly pulled it to her. It took her a while, and eventually the men across the table began talking to each other quietly while she wrote, but she did manage to finish another written report of what happened to her a month ago. She held down the end of the pencil and jammed the tip into the table to stick the lead back inside before tossing it on the table and shoving the paper at Paul.

"Done."

Paul nodded and skimmed through the three pages quickly, before giving her another smile and putting it away.

"Alright then...Sam, I'm going to allow these two men beside me, Mr. Lennox and Mr. Epps to start asking you questions now."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise at this information. What the heck was this? They weren't there just to look pretty? "What?" She demanded, sitting up a little straighter. Ow, her neck... "Why!?"

All three men looked a little confused at her outburst. The liaison was the first to recover his wits and answer her.

"They're a part of the Military branch of our organization. I work as a civilian. Both sides would like to have their own answers from you. Nothing to worry about." He gave her another reassuring smile and the teen didn't know whether to sigh in relief or gag at all the smiles this man was handing out like candy today.

But Sam could read between the lines. It took her a moment, but she understood what he wasn't saying.

Politics and military don't really mix. You're being questioned by both sides because they want to be sure the information is coming from somebody they trust. Sucks to suck, kid.

Sam scowled furiously into her (melted) smoothie and hunkered down in the chair.

"Fine." She grumbled.

Paul smiled again and then did something Sam was definitely not okay with. She was okay with these two guys questioning her; the bureaucrats and the army boys don't play nice, yadda yadda; totally not her problem. (Though she'd suffer for it anyway.) She was okay with being bored out of her mind a little; sure thing. But then Paul just...he just...

He left.

She only managed a few spluttered protests after she realized why he stood up before he was gone with a cheery "See you when you're done!"

Sam barely, barely resisted the urge to gulp dramatically and shifted until she was actually sitting like a normal human being in her seat. It was incredibly awkward. For her, anyway.

So she didn't like Paul very much at the moment. The man had still been doing an astounding job dealing with her and was - fortunately or unfortunately still to be determined - the person she was the most comfortable with. Not these two.

Sucks to suck, so suck it up.

The white solider dude whose name she forgot (but he did look vaguely familiar somehow, now that she thought about it) gave her a smile that she decided was marginally more pleasant (and honest) than Paul's before shuffling some folders he had in his lap and taking Paul's seat. His friend didn't move, but rather leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs.

"Alright, Sam." The teenager's attention was returned to...what-his-name with the surprisingly nice hair. (He looked really familiar but she knew she hadn't ever met him before.) His voice startled her a little bit. It was really...young, but at the same time it had a kind of rasp to it that was just barely there. It was kind of nice...

Had they drugged her? Sam quickly ended all thought processes and focused back on his words.

"I'm just going to be asking you some of the same questions you've been asked before. I would appreciate it if you could tell me everything you remember in as much detail as possible, alright?" He was looking at her expectantly, and Sam decided she would put all assumptions of him being an evil agent of the government aside until she was proven wrong.

Innocent until proven guilty, as they say.

So she just nodded and got ready to be bored out of her mind for an hour or two. She hoped to god it was only an hour or two.

"Alright, so my file here says it all started when you went for a walk behind your house..."

She found Captain Nice Hair's interrogation a lot easier to handle than last time's run through with...that other guy. Or was it Paul? Sam couldn't remember who it was, exactly, but she supposed it didn't really matter anyway.

Occasionally his friend would chime in, too, and from what she could tell, he seemed nice.

They actually got pretty specific with certain things, and it kind of struck Sam as odd that they hadn't done this the first time around. (It seemed like it'd make more sense to ask when the memory was fresh, but evidently not...?)

They asked about Skywarp, if she saw any weapons, or anything big and extra on its frame that seemed out of place. Did he seem agitated, or smug, was he in a hurry...

Of course, Sam could only give a couple of vague impressions, but the longer they talked about it the more she remembered, and it became easier and easier to answer their questions.

Then they started asking about the ball.

And boy, did she have a lot to say about that.

"Alright, Sam. You've been doing great so far. Now, you said that down in the crater, you found a ball of some kind?"

Almost immediately, she could feel a headache begin to form right behind her eyes. She groaned and nodded unhappily.

"Ugh, yes. The stupid thing has been bothering me lately. I can't figure out what the heck it was..."

Captain nice hair nodded and gave her a smile. "That's alright, we wouldn't expect you to try and figure it out. We've got people at our facility working on it right now. It's no problem of yours." He started flipping through the folders again, looking for something.

Personally, Sam thought it was kind of her problem, because that was at least half of the whole reason she had been forcibly kidnapped by the government anyway. But to each their own, she supposed.

Suddenly Captain Nice Hair (god, she really needed to remember what his name was. Lowry? Ew, no, that was her fifth grade teacher. Yucky, that one.) Pulled out a small note-card looking thing, and handed it over to her. She took it in her hands and recognized the poorly done doodle from her first time through hell, and looked back up at him questioningly.

"Can you tell us, again, everything you remember about it? I know it's annoying, but you're really our only lead on this. Everything you tell us could be significant, don't leave anything out, even if you think it doesn't matter." He looked at her pleadingly, and Sam felt her tummy do uncomfortable flips. She really didn't want to; she had already chewed out Paul for asking her the same thing the other day, why should she do it now? Talking to them about the stupid thing just seemed like a pain, and everything in her was against it.

But...if she got it over with this time, maybe it would actually be the last time she had to.

Releasing a resigned sigh and ignoring the mild throbbing in her skull, she looked back at the drawing she had done what seemed like ages ago.

"Okay...so, I went down the crater, and found the thing, blah blah..." She took a deep breath and focused on a spot on the tabletop.

"It was silver. It was about the size of a beach ball. Uhm...it had lines going all across it, like little panels. There were a couple of lights placed on it, here and there, three or four in a row, near a few of the panel lines.

"It was indented in the middle, in a strip. It was the same all the way around. There were the hieroglyph things all along it, but..." Sam wracked her brain, trying to remember absolutely everything she could. She heard somewhere that adrenaline was supposed to improve memory of an event. Did it count if she was trying to remember something right before she was scared half to death?

"I think...some of them might have looked like buttons...or...been inset into the metal...so it was like, the letter was inset into the inset? Damn it, I'm not explaining this well..."

"No no," the man reassured, scribbling furiously. "you're doing great, Sam. Anything else?"

Sam frowned a little and squinched her eyebrows in thought. "No." She said finally. "I'm pretty sure...that's it. Like, all of it. Well, it did rattle when I shook it, but I don't think it did anything else." Sam lifted her gaze again and watch with mild interest as Captain Nice-Hair finished up his scribbling. His big-armed friend was also waiting for him to finish patiently. He hadn't said much.

Finally the brunette clicked his pen and set it down on the table and shifted the papers a bit. He looked back up at Sam and the teen met his eyes calmly.

He smiled.

"Alright Sam, thank you so much for working with us. This information will be a huge help, and we'll be sure to put it to good use." He started packing up his stuff, and the other one stood up and started talking on an earpeice or something, walking to the corner of the room and talking quietly.

She nodded even though she wasn't sure why them putting it to "good use" would affect her any; if at all. The man stood up after he had gathered all of his things, but Sam remained sitting in her seat. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him expectantly.

"So...now what?" She asked him. She drummed her fingers absently on her arm as she pondered where she would go next. She was pretty sure Paul said something about another check up with Doctor Nightmare. (But if she were to be honest, she kind of wanted to like the good doctor. He was grumpy, too, and just as displeased, if not more, with the situation they were in. Also, she had a feeling he was a master of sarcasm. The things she could learn...)

Captain nice hair glanced over to his friend (Wasn't his name "Pepps" or something? She wasn't sure. She hoped for his sake it wasn't pepps. So many bad jokes.). The man finished talking on his ear bud or whatever, and turned back to face them.

"Whelp, Sam. Our man Paul says next stop is the Doctor's office. They're gonna go ahead and get your MRI out of the way, today. Sound good?"

Sam made a face, but shrugged and stood up anyway. Both of her interrogators stepped out before her, and she followed behind them silently. Since she was behind them, she took the opportunity to eat the Hershey kisses she had shoved in her purse as quickly as possible. (Maybe not the best idea with a medical examination in her imminent future, but she couldn't just let it melt all over her purse.)

After her chocolate was gone, she posed a question.

"Hey, so...I kinda noticed I never got my phone back. Am I just not allowed to have it, or...?"

Captain nice hair paused in his quiet discussion with Pepps to give her an apologetic smile. "Sorry kid, I wouldn't know. You'll have to ask Paul when you see him again. As the liaison and unofficial manager of your situation, he's the one who'll know about stuff like that. I can tell you they probably just took it to be inspected or something though. I bet you'll get it back soon enough."

Sam scowled at his back. "Don't...er, please don't call me kid. My name is Sam." She was still frowning when Pepps turned around this time with a cheerful smile.

"Sure thing, kiddo." Captain nice hair elbowed him fondly and the guy laughed before looking at her again. "Just joking; sure thing, Sam. But if I can ask...why do you seem to dislike nicknames so much?"

"And Paul?" The captain tacked on, also eyeing her over his shoulder. "I've worked with his for a few years now, he's a pretty nice guy." They were now walked almost even, and the two soldiers could see her frown clearly this time without having to turn around. she shoved her hands in her pockets before responding.

"My stupid friends keep on giving me really annoying nicknames. I just...don't like it. It bothers me, I dunno. Usually my friend Anna does it just to get on my nerves, so I guess I just don't like it when anybody does it." Pepps nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, I feel you. I had this one nickname back in the academy...sheesh, was that a nightmare." He gave her a knowing grin. "The ducky thing about nicknames is that usually the worst of 'em are the ones that stick."

Sam nodded a little. She wasn't exactly feeling comfortable talking to these two, but she guessed it was alright.

"Now what about Paul?" Captain nice hair brought up again. "Is it because he calls you by your nickname, or something? Because, no offense..." He said, holding up his hands and giving a little shirt. "But that seems like a pretty weak reason to dislike him as much as you seem to."

Sam looked away from his face and studied the walls as they walking, thinking.

"I...uh...well, he kinda of lied to me. He made it sound like after the first time I got dragged out to god knows wherever we are, I would never had to deal with this shi- crap again. I'm pretty sure there is some stupid government secret agent dating my mom to keep her from getting suspicious or something equally dumb like that, and then after finally getting over that stupid Paul shows up on my doorstep and acts like all he's there to do is checkup on me. But of course, it was kind of obvious that the whole reason he was there was to basically kidnap me so that the scary grumpy doctor that apparently works for top secret government agencies can scan me to kingdom come! Paul is a lying jerk!"

By the end of her angry spiel she had raised her voice a little and was scowling furiously at nothing while her two escorts shared a wary glance. Sam hunched her shoulders and looked down and just kept walking. She was such an idiot.

Lennox scratched the back of his neck and gave a questioning look to Epps over the unfortunate teenager's head and mouthed "What the Hell do I say to that?"

Epps just grinned and shrugged, indicating that since Lennox started it, he could damn well finish it too.

Holding back a sigh, the man lowered his arm and returned his attention to the brunette who was still striding angrily beside them down the hallway. *He wasn't the one with a kid, at least not yet. How did one deal with moody teenagers?

"Ah...I'm...sorry to hear that. But you know, I mean, Paul is just trying to do his job..."

Sam snorted. "Is his job lying to and kidnapping innocent high schoolers? Cuz if it is, you can tell him he's doing great."

Lennox winced and didn't really have anything to say to that, so the three continued their walk in silence. Lennox swore to make hell for Epps when he saw the man laughing at him when Sam wasn't looking.

All in all, it was about a ten minute walk, mostly because Sam's escorts were under orders to take the long way to the medical ward, but said teenager didn't know that.

Approaching the correct hall, Sam looked up and saw, to her horror, a scowling Doctor Barnes standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. If the two solider boys beside her noticed when she began dragging her feet, neither chose to say anything.

When they made their final approach "Pepps" or whatever his name was set a big, meaty hand on her shoulder and caused her to sway back and forth a little with the force.

"Here you are, Joe!" he singsonged in greeting. "One moody teenager here for an MRI, just like you ordered."

Sam's small protest of "Hey!" Was ignored as Dr. Barnes shifted the gaze that had previously been intent on said teenager to the cherry black man, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, thank you Robert." The grey-haired doctor looked back to Sam and stepped aside so she could get to the rooms behind him.

"Saman- " Glare. Sigh. "Sam. Please go to the waiting room, I'll be with you shortly." Silently, the teen complied, and once she was far enough away, he turned back to the two men waiting patiently before him. Dr. Barnes nodded.

"William, Robert. Thank you for bringing her. May I ask why Paul didn't come himself? He was there to question her, wasn't he?"

Epps grimaced and Lennox scratched the back of his head again.

"About that..." The brunette stated. "Paul realized that the kid was really getting to dislike him, so he asked us to take her once we were done getting her statements again. I did notice she seemed a little more subdued without him in the room...if, ironically, a bit more uncomfortable."

Joseph grunted in acknowledgement and looked between the two of them. "Any idea why that might be?"

Epps grinned and slapped a hand on his friend's back when he answered. "Well, Mr. Tactful over here asked her straight out why she didn't like the guy, and she went on a rant about how he was a liar and basically kidnapped her and something about a government agent dating her mom. I thought it was hilarious."

Lennox shoved his friend off him before punching him lightly in the arm. "Oh shut up. It's not my fault I have no idea how to deal with kids. Especially not teenagers. To be honest I feel kinda sorry for her, getting thrust into all this crap can't be fun."

Joseph sighed and nodded, finally uncrossing his arms and glancing behind himself before turning back to face the two. "I'm afraid you're right, William. This is all probably very stressful for her. I'll be watching for any problems that could arise while she's in our care, though. I'm sure the little brat will be fine."

Will shrugged. "Yeah. She seems like an okay kid. A bit harsh, maybe, but she's alright. We'll see ya around, doc." Both men held up a hand in farewell before wandering back to their own business, and most likely to turn in their report.

Releasing a weary sigh, The aging man spun around and stalked into the waiting room where he found his patient sitting upside down with a magazine in her hands. Her legs were splayed over the back of the chair and resting against the wall, and her hair fell to the floor in a wild mess. She glanced up at him when he entered, a thoughtful frown on her face as the two studied each other.

"...You need more magazines. These all kinda suck."

Joseph gripped the bridge of his nose in frustration. Apparently, this was not going to be as easy as he had hoped.

*Alright, kind of important here. This hasn't been made clear in the story yet, but you need to know. In the movie, in Sam's universe, Lennox and Epps played as Captain Duhamel and Sergeant Gibson. For those of you that don't quite understand, that means we've reversed the names of the actors and who they played. So, now, that means the credits would have read "Captain Duhamel played by William Lennox / Sergeant Gibson played by Robert Epps."

This was done mostly because Benu and I were too attached to the original names, and the characters, to give them up. Unfortunately, this also has a few other side effects.

Lennox and Epps acted in the movie so they would be able to move freely with Autobots that had similar alt-modes to their movie counterparts at the time it came out. They were supposedly soldiers that were recruited to act to make the movies more realistic, that's what the public was told. (Bay actually did grab some retired soldiers for the filming to the first movie, and possibly the others too.)

This also means that Sarah Lennox and Annabell don't really exist, just like Sam and his family don't exist.

We're sorry, we know Sarah and Annabell are crowd favorites. But there just wasn't a plausible reason to put the wife of the actual Captain Lennox in the movie; it would only serve to bring attention to her, and possibly endanger her. Will is still married, but he's only now expecting a baby, and it won't be Annabell. Very sorry.

That's why Sam felt she recognized the two. She did; they played in the movies. But of course, it has been a while, so you can't expect her to make the connection right away. (If it had been Anna...well...)

That's really all the explaining required for now, but there are more aspects of this "mutiverse mash up" that haven't been made clear yet, and we'll work to expand upon those things for you as we progress.

Sincerest of thanks to icanhascamaro for sticking with us after this long weight, and continuing to perform as our wonderful beta!

Note: My, that was rather long, wasn't it? We'd like to thank you for reading and we hope you enjoyed the chapter. Unfortunately, we just couldn't stretch this chapter to thirty pages. We reached twenty-five, but Barnes was willing to let it go no farther.

In other news, the entire basic plotline of Dear Karma has been constructed. We have all of our big points included, and hopefully it won't take us so abysmally long to update next time. This chapter was...persistently stubborn. It just didn't want to happen. We hope you can forgive us if all this waiting still managed to produce something sub-par, but we realize we have to move on or we'll be stuck here forever.

Thank you -sincerely- for your patronage. All of the support from our readers is vastly appreciated. I don't know how we would ever do it without you.

Thanks much, and please come again.