Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait! Thank you all for your support thus far! I do hope that you continue to enjoy!
Sam, torn between the downed amalgamation once more, and Bumblebee, who leans against the closest berth, holding his side, goes to the latter. He moves up to his side, but Bumblebee beeps in alarm and gestures to the pink liquid as Sam draws near. The big yellow bot slowly lowers to the ground to rest, letting out a huff of air from his vents, blue eye lights flickering a bit before focusing down at the approaching human.
"Don't go any closer to the spilt energon, Sam," Optimus rumbles, hand placed on the amalgamation's chest. He looks at Sam with a small frown, eye lights flickering towards Bumblebee and back. "It is toxic to humans."
"Just hold on Bumblebee," Ratchet murmurs. His focus is on the tab on his arm, frowning. "Give me a moment to start uploading the data files."
Bumblebee chirps, pressing his hand tentatively under the bleeding plate, as if trying to put pressure on the wound. Sam moves around the splatters of blood to come up on Bumblebee's side. He reaches out and places a hand on the smooth, bright yellow armor, frowning up at the big blue eyes looking down at him again.
"Are you okay?"
Bumblebee nods. "Aye aye, Captain."
Sam tries to smile but fails. He leans against Bumblebee's arm but looks over at the amalgamation. He's asleep once more - or the Cybertronian equivalent, Sam supposes - with one of Optimus's hands on his chest. Ratchet is knelt by his arm, connected to the open panel there. He glances over at Bumblebee, who gives him a thumbs up, before nodding curtly and looking away again.
Skids and Mudflap both maneuver the berths back into place, sniping back and forth with one another about what had just happened, while Sideswipe rolls his shoulder, grumbling about something being jarred loose and Ironhide heads over to the entrance into the room. Sam's eyes follow the large black and silver bot, blinking in surprise when men in military gear are all piled in formation just inside the room, pointing their guns at the amalgamation. Sam hadn't even realized that anyone else had come into the room.
Ironhide kneels down in front of the man standing at the forefront of the others, his hand balled up in a fist held up by his head.
"Sam!" The man calls, looking right at him while leaning around the large black bot. Sam blinks in surprise. "You okay?"
Sam nods, turning away to look up at Bumblebee. "Do I know him? I mean, I must, right?"
Bumblebee chirrups softly. "Friend."
"That's Major Will Lennox," Jolt says, kneeling down opposite side of Optimus. He's looking over the many small arms, laying limply around the slumbering amalgamation. He inspects some of the broken ones before looking over at Sam. "He and his team were with the Autobots here on Earth during the battle of Mission City. Yourself included. You've known each other for a few years now."
Sam nods, running a hand down the smooth metal of Bumblebee's arm plate, glancing up at the yellow Autobot with a little frown. Bumblebee had made him feel better, he just didn't know how to return the favor. Although Bumblebee doesn't seem to mind, expression gentle. The feeling of adoration and love that seems to thicken the air around them makes Sam's skin prickle.
Sam looks away, back to Optimus, Ratchet, Jolt and the amalgamation. The green medical Autobot nods to himself, disconnecting from the lattermost of the group before giving him a once over, considering something, but instead of addressing it, he turns to Bumblebee and heads over. He looks down at Sam, frowning.
"Are you hurt, Sam?"
Sam shakes his head. "No. Is Bumblebee going to be okay?"
"Most likely," Ratchet says, then makes a gesture for Sam to move out of the way. "Go on. Get out of the way so I don't squish you."
Sam nods, giving Bumblebee another soft touch before moving over towards Optimus, being sure not to step near Bumblebee's pink blood. Optimus holds out the hand not touching the chest of the amalgamation to Sam. As the teen gets closer, Optimus picks him up so that he can look down at the massive bot a lot easier.
"Is he okay?"
Optimus nods. "He's in forced recharge."
Sam tries to adjust to the feeling of being manhandled, not all that sure if he likes it or not. It's not exactly comfortable, and while Optimus could no doubt squeeze the life out of him, he thankfully doesn't, but that might be a part of his unease. He can't deny that he does get a better angle of the amalgamation from this high up, so he'll just deal with it for now.
"Does that hurt him?" Sam asks, looking over at Optimus as the large blue and red mech moves him to rest on his knee. Sam definitely does like this better. He balances on the Autobot leader's leg joint, holding onto the kneegard while Optimus folds his hand around Sam to make sure he doesn't fall off. It seemed so automatic for them, Sam suspects that he's done this before.
"No," Optimus rumbles. "But the amount of data Ratchet just downloaded into his processor is going to leave him with a gnawing ache for a few days. The recharge will be good for him, though. Other than the short time he was powered down, he's been awake nonstop, all higher level defense and assault protocols on high alert. He needs some time to wind down."
"Will he be better when he wakes up?" Sam asks, looking over to see Ratchet helping Bumblebee to his feet and up onto the berth he was leaning against, which happened to be Sam's. His gurney and equipment are moved to the next berth over and out of the way.
Sam looks back over at Optimus as the red and blue mech shakes his head a bit. "I don't know, Sam. His situation is unique in that the Allspark has made him directly, which hasn't happened on Cybertron in a very long time. But he isn't how the Allspark usually makes its bots."
Sam frowns, leaning against Optimus's hand a bit, yawning. "What does that mean?"
Optimus's eye lights flicker as he looks from the amalgamation to Sam. "Hm. What I mean, is that the Allspark makes sparks. It is part of our reproduction. When the correct conditions are met, so long as one is in the sphere of influence from the Allspark, there is a chance for a bot to be sparked. The Cybertronian equivalent to a human pregnancy."
Sam blinks, eyes wide. "Wait, what? Sphere of influence?"
Optimus nods. "All of Cybertron and many of our occupied words sat comfortably within its sphere of influence, and those within it could reproduce with some level of ease. Or as much ease as a long live species such as ours can. But the further a bot got from it, the harder it got to reproduce."
Sam isn't sure he completely understands. "What's the sphere, then? Is it an actual sphere or something?" He wasn't even fully sure of what the Allspark was, even with Optimus's explanation from earlier.
"No, the Allspark gives off powerful cosmic energy. That is the sphere I speak of. It is with that energy that when the sparks of two Cybertronians merge, that the gamble of the third spark appearing occurs."
Fascinated, Sam wanted to ask more, but it felt a little... weird. He was basically asking how babies were made, which felt very personal and very much not his business. Even though Optimus doesn't seem to be at all bothered by his questions. Sam has to wonder if he's asked this before. If they are having a conversation that they've had before. He's not really sure how they would have - what could have prompted such a conversation, but it's either that, or Optimus just simply doesn't mind his questions.
Deciding to slide a bit away from the reproductive aspect of it, Sam asks, "Is it still there? The influence? Even though the Allspark is gone?"
His words settled the gravity of reality on his shoulders. The Autobot's - the Cybertronian's - ability to procreate. Gone.
"I don't know," Optimus admits. "A new Cybertronian hasn't emerged in a long time. The sphere of the Allspark's influence isn't something innately felt. It was something that took a long time of research from minds far smarter than my own to come to understand. Even still, the Allspark is an ancient artifact that we know so little about, even after all of this time."
Sam is quiet for a long time, looking over at the sleeping amalgamation, Jolt, who was knelt down next to him, rubbing at the back of his neck. To Skids and Mudflap, being ordered around by Sideswipe as they try to get the medbay back into order, the former two grumbling the whole time. Then over his shoulder, past a slightly shifting Optimus, to Ironhide, who was making his way over to Ratchet and Bumblebee, the soldiers heading out once more. Except for Major Lennox and a dark-skinned man hanging back at his side. They both look around, scanning the room for any more dangers, before turning and leaving.
Except, at the door, Major Lennox turns around again to look at Sam, but too much of the room separates them that Sam can't quite make out his expression. But after a few moments, he turned and left.
Sam's eyes shift to Ironhide once more, watching as he takes the amalgamation's severed little arms that Ratchet passes to him after removing them from Bumblebee's body. Despite the amount of pink blood and Bumblebee's little grunts of pain, the yellow bot just stares vacantly up at the ceiling. Sam can't see if there is any shift in his expression from his angle, but his body intermittently tenses and relaxes.
"Is Bumblebee going to be okay?" Sam asks quietly, twisting around to look at Optimus. He leans against the large red and blue Autobot's hand, flagging a bit again.
"Ratchet is incredible at what he does," Optimus says evenly, bright blue eye lights focusing down at the young man. "But it seems like the injuries weren't all that bad either. Don't worry. Bumblebee will be okay."
Sam rubs at his forehead, feeling a gentle throbbing behind his eyes. He looks over at the amalgamation, shoulders slumping a bit as his hand wraps around Optimus's thumb as he sinks into the larger palm.
"He freaked out because of me, right? He was struggling when I left..."
"Try not to be so hard on yourself, Sam," Optimus rumbles, his hand curling around the amnesiac a bit, protectively.
Sam flags a bit more, shaking his head. "He was so upset..."
A beat of silent consideration, before Optimus says, "As he is, in the state that he's in, the mech can't comprehend outside of you. You are the center of his universe. While he was able to watch you and ensure your safety, he was... tentatively pacified. But it was only a matter of time. He has been running so hot, he was going to burn himself out eventually."
Sam thinks about Ironhide's words again. And he had to wonder how much Optimus wasn't saying to spare his feelings.
"I still feel bad," Sam admits softly, resting his cheek against the warm metal of Optimus's hand, watching the digits curl a little bit more around him. It should feel constricting, or like a cage closing around him, but it doesn't. Despite his mind not knowing for certain, his heart is assured that this literal alien wouldn't hurt him. That he was safe with Optimus.
"I know," Optimus rumbles.
He doesn't remember how he got here. Or even where here is.
Sam is walking down a strange hallway. He's swallowed by the massive space. He looks up at the ceiling and it feels like it is swallowed by the darkness above. But there is no sky, no stars. A ceiling must be there, but Sam just can't see it. There was strange, jagged rock-like protrusion that barely peak through the darkness above. The walls of the hall were strange, distorted. Dark and shifting, as if it was alive. Sam's head throbs at the sight of it, so he looks away.
He follows the hallway to a split. The right path leads into nothing. A blackened-out emptiness. The left path was dimly lit, like the rest of the hall behind him. Sam takes that hall, hearing a low, rumbling voice that was unfamiliar to him, saying something to him from far away. He's not sure what the words were, but they were... gentle, he thinks. Kind. Protective. Safe.
He travels down that bland hall, trying to find that voice. He only makes it a few more feet before it all falls away and Sam wakes up.
"What time is it?" Sam asks, looking over at Ratchet, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He's been sleeping a lot since he woke up, but finally, after these last few times he woke up, he finally feels better. He's tired. Fatigued of the body, but his mind feels more alert than it's been since he got amnesia.
Bumblebee is laying on the berth that he had been occupying up until the attack with the amalgamation. He tilts his head up to look at the new berth that Sam was placed on. He remembers nearly falling asleep in Optimus's... hand? Optimus had cradled him close, cupped safely in his hands, and while the teen drifted in and out of consciousness, he was brought to this berth. Everything was set up again and then he was placed in the gurney and he easily slipped back into slumber.
He woke up a few minutes ago, in a daze, but he does feel better. But also like he's out of sorts in the sense that he can't tell how much time has passed at all. Has it been days? Weeks? Months?
Logically, he knows that's crazy. But he would feel better knowing.
Ratchet, who was leaning over the sleeping amalgamation that at some point had been moved back up onto the two berths, glances over at him. "It is 3:16 a.m."
Sam blinks a few times, trying to remember if it would be light or dark out right now. The lights in the medbay are dimmed, so that's probably his answer.
"How long has it been?" Sam asks, sitting up on the gurney. "Since I was at the school."
Ratchet detaches the cabling connecting him and the sleeping amalgamation. He makes his way over to the amnesiac. "It's been over a day, Sam. The incident at the school happened just after 8 p.m. We located you just shy of 11 p.m that same night. Just now, you were asleep for three hours. How do you feel?"
"I'm okay," Sam admits. "Tired, still. But I feel more... alert, I guess?"
Ratchet nods, popping open the tab on his arm. "Good. Your levels seem to be in acceptable range, but I would like for you to eat more. Are you hungry?"
Sam shrugs. "Not really, but I can try." It feels like he's not one for eating right after waking up, but he doesn't want to make trouble for Ratchet, who is obviously just trying to take care of him.
"Good," Ratchet says, nodding to himself. He skims over whatever is displayed on his arm while Sam looks over at Bumblebee.
"Are you okay?"
Bumblebee nods. He lifts an arm and flashes a thumbs up that makes Sam smile. Blue eye lights crest.
With Bumblebee begrudgingly berthbound at the moment, Ratchet takes Sam to the same bathroom as before, in a befitting ambulance of all things, before bringing him right back to his gurney, food awaiting him. Skids and Mudflap are still there, yapping to one another in a mix of clicks and beeps with occasional curse words in English thrown in. Sam was slow to eat his bland meal before looking back over at the amalgamation and back to thinking of names for him.
Sam is kept under lock down in the medbay, which he doesn't so much mind. He is still so confused about who he is and what was going on before the amnesia struck, that he was relieved to have those familiar four walls standing around him.
He spent so much time, the rest of the night and into the following day, just wracking his brain, trying to come up with something, and everything just seems so silly. He's never named anything before - at least, not that he remembers. And Ratchet and Bumblebee weren't all that much help. Cybertronian names are complicated, that was about as much as they could give him and that wasn't much of anything at all.
He would eat as much as he could from whatever was put in front of him when Ratchet deemed it necessary. He would use the bathroom, and after the fourth time, he convinced Ratchet to let him walk by himself. He needed help getting up and down, but other than that, he was happy to make the trek simply because it gave him something to do that's not driving himself crazy trying to think of something.
When he's not wracking his brain or eating or taking his time walking down one long hallway to the bathroom and back - he's sleeping or staring off into space. It isn't until he's choked down some lunch that Bumblebee, who was plugged into a tablet that is way too small for his large hand, just staring at it and probably watching something for the last few hours, finally, he unplugs. Bumblebee tentatively moves into a sitting position.
Bumblebee chirps, drawing Sam's eyes over to him from where he was staring off into space. He moves to his feet, waving away the sharp look that Rachet sends him. Then, he kneels down at Sam's side and holds out the tablet to him.
"What?" Sam asks, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Did you download some movies for me?"
Bumblebee chirps again, blinking big blue eyes, before shaking his head. From the radio voices, he says, "Next time. These are all from me. Our time together. Some of many."
Sam sits up, taking the tablet. "What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, Bumblebee simply nods down to the tablet. Sam turns it on and goes into the gallery. There are hundreds of photos and videos. But they weren't actual photos. They were candid shots taken from an unnatural angle. Always looking down at him. These videos... these pictures... they were taken by Bumblebee. They had to of been.
And so many of them were of Sam.
And he looked so... happy. Happy, content, calm.
Some in front of a beautiful sunset. Turned away, staring at it, or looking back towards Bumblebee, haloed in its fading light. All of them alone, as if it was just the two best friends. So, so many of them. It seems like that was a spot that they went to very often. Sam can tell by the different clothes that he's wearing, but a lot of the shots are taken on the same days. He seems so... happy.
Sam flips through them, feeling a little strange to admire himself, but he feels disconnected from it. It feels like he's looking at someone else. A stranger.
Bumblebee whirls softly, peeking down at the tablet from over Sam's shoulder. Sam looks at his friend, smiling a bit, before looking back to the photo to see Bumblebee and the version of him that lived this life in front of a mirror in the garage. Bumblebee is holding up a peace sign while knelt down to look at their reflection. And Sam, bright eyed and grinning in an open laugh at something.
Sam smiles, turning to look at the cresting blue of Bumblebee's eyes. "We were close, weren't we?"
Bumblebee nods, ears flapping a bit. "You're my best friend..." The radio sings.
Sam laughs. "You're so quick," he notes.
"That's not the first time Bumblebee has heard Sam say that," Mudflap says, almost not quiet enough.
"Quick overload," Skids stage whispers back. Both of them laugh.
Sam frowns, not understanding what they were referring to. Ratchet turns to glare at them and Bumblebee rumbles with annoyed clicking. Both the twins laugh, making gestures that they were elbowing one another, but they weren't close enough. Mudflap nudged the amalgamation's foot instead. Both of them tense up, staring wide eyed at the massive bot between them, waiting for him to spring up and start the fight again. But he remains unmoving.
"I forced him into stasis," Ratchet snaps, rubbing at his forehead. "He won't wake until I know he's gone through all the data packages I've downloaded into his processor. But I might reconsider if you two don't pipe down."
The twins share a look before Skids stage whispers back, "The Hatchet is back."
"You're acting like he ever left, idiot."
"I'm not an idiot. I'm smarter than you!"
As the two devolve into sniping one another with insults, Sam just lets out a little, amused laugh and turns back to the photos on the tablet.
"There is not camera, Bumblebee," Sam says, drawing narrowed blue eyes back down to him. "How did you take these pictures?" Bumblebee's expression softens as he brings up and big hand and taps at his temple. It takes Sam a beat before understanding dawned on him. "Oh, your eyes can be like cameras? That's cool."
Bumblebee chirps proudly, annoyance at the twins forgotten. Ratchet isn't so lucky, casting long angry looks at the red and green bots while Sam and Bumblebee just quietly go through the photos. There was so many of them, despite a lot being cut from short periods of time in groups, he can see that they spent a lot of time together. And each image is... nice. Sam's not vain enough - at least, not that he remembers - to be carried away with how he looks, specifically, but to see these little snapshots of his life... to see himself as happy. As content.
They spent a while just looking at the pictures. He didn't make it through more than a portion of what Bumblebee had uploaded, but there was a video intermixed with the pictures. He was singing - rather poorly - to music playing from Bumblebee's radio while washing a massive red and blue semi. Sam himself doesn't recognize the song, but the version of him in the video does.
From the windshield of the semi and based on the slight movement of the video, Sam can see Bumblebee is dancing, hard to do while knelt down, but he makes it look easy. Video Sam laughs, turning from where he was washing the grille of the semi to point at Bumblebee and sing a line of lyrics at him with a big grin on his face. Bumblebee points back which makes video Sam laugh before going back to cleaning.
In trunks and a wet t-shirt, Sam moves around the blackened asphalt without a care. He climbs up the cab and leans into the rolled down window, throwing his head back in a laugh and a nod, dropping back down.
It takes a second for Sam to make the connection. The red and blue semi? They were flames. And Sam has seen those red and blue flames before. The semi was Optimus.
In the bright light in the wide-open space - it looks like a massive runway; in the distance Sam can make out people and vehicles moving around. How many of those were Autobots?
It all looked so peaceful, so calm.
There is a feeling in Sam's chest. An ache that isn't quite pain. It's more like affection so strong it hurts. It feels like Optimus underplayed it so much. They were so connected to one another. He could feel it. The larger Autobot wasn't shy about explaining Sam and Bumblebee's relationship but said nothing in regards to their own. But Sam could see it in this video. How lovingly the version of him there took care of the other bot. How he laughed and patted the side of the doors, no doubt hearing Optimus speaking to him from over the music. How the video him was so meticulous in his cleaning to ensure that the red and blue bot absolutely shined.
Why hadn't Optimus said anything about that? That they were friends? He sort of alluded to it, but didn't state it as fact, like he had with Sam and Bumblebee's relationship. Had it been because he didn't want to presume Sam's feelings? He hadn't had a problem in regard to Bumblebee.
It hurts to know that these things, these memories, were lost to him. What if they never come back? What if this happiness and joy is never returned to him? What if all it will ever be is an image burned on a screen?
As if sensing Sam's drop in mood, Bumblebee reaches around the gurney to run that finger down the length of his side. Sam hadn't realized how much he had rolled onto his hip until then. He looks up Bumblebee, turning the screen off, throat tightening. Sadness washes over him both in a constriction of his chest, and like a blanket settling over him as Bumblebee's eyes soften.
Ratchet turns, scrutinizing them with lips pressed tightly in Sam's peripheral, but doesn't say anything.
Ignoring the yellowish green bot, Bumblebee says in a soft voice not of the radio. "I didn't mean to make you sad, Sam." His throat clicks a few times, and his eye lights flicker but his face remains unmoving. Ratchet's expression hardens in disapproval.
Sam leans forward, surprised that Bumblebee had been close enough that the tips of his fingers could touch Bumblebee's throat. The bot leans a little closer, baring his throat a bit more as Sam says, "Your throat hurts, Bumblebee. Don't talk, okay?"
Bumblebee nods. "Aye, aye, Captain," the radio says.
Sam smiles a bit, trying to push past the fog of sadness but it clings tightly to him. After a moment of debate, staying into those bright blue eyes as they stare back, he says, quietly, "What if I never remember? What if I can't be the person that was in these pictures? This video?"
Bumblebee blinks, eyes spiraling down before widening again. "You are Sam." Simple. Finite. As if completely set in stone.
"You don't care if I go back to that person?" Sam asks, incredulously. That was the person that was their friend. Maybe that was why Optimus didn't say anything about their relationship. Maybe this Sam was way different than he is now. Maybe in this short time that they've known each other, Optimus realized he couldn't like who Sam is now without his memory.
And even with the surprising amount of hurt that brings him, it's not like it would surprise him. He's a stranger to them now - as they are to him. But these feelings, and the connection to them. The Autobots feel safe. There is a feeling deep inside of him that knows that they aren't going to hurt him. That they wouldn't let anything happen to him. Why he had been so scared before... well, he'll blame it on the Allspark, that seems like a safe bet.
"You are Sam," Bumblebee repeats.
Sam sighs, running his fingers lightly across the wires spread over Bumeblebee's throat. They are warm. Very warm. Sam hadn't realized how cold his fingers were until that moment. The medbay is cold, but Sam had been mostly comfortable this whole time, so he hadn't even noticed.
"What if I don't regain my memories, Bumeblebee?" Sam asks, voice soft. He didn't want platatudes. He didn't want his friend to say what he thought Sam wanted to hear. He wanted the truth. What would happen to them if Sam couldn't go back to being the person that he was before? Would the Autobots leave him? Surely not with the power of the Allspark within him.
But he definitely didn't want that to be the only reason that they stayed.
"Then we will make new ones," Bumblebee says in his own voice again, just as softly.
Sam was dozing, his sleeping schedule shot to shit now, when the following morning - 7:32 am, according to the tablet Bumblebee left with him - that Ratchet announced that he was going to wake the amalgamation up.
Bumblebee, who had moved back to Sam's old berth to rest, was immediately moving to his feet, waving off the look Ratchet shot him, and heading over to Sam to scoop him up. Meanwhile, Sideswipe and Jolt - who took the places of the twins at some point a few hours prior - straighten up.
"Is Prime coming?" Jolt asks.
"Yes, and Ironhide, I've already sent word," Ratchet says, moving over to the amalgamation's side. "The twins will watch the door."
"Sure they will," Sideswipe says, rolling his blue eyes.
"I mean no offense," Jolt says carefully through a wince. "But is it wise for Prime to come? I mean, the mech doesn't seem to be very fond of him."
Ratchet shakes his head, eyes focused on the tab on his arm. "Maybe not, but Optimus is the only one strong enough to physically restrain the mech if the need comes of it. He's simply too big and too strong for the rest of us without him. Plus, if he's going to be sticking around, whatever his hang ups are with Optimus are, he's going to have to find a way to live with them."
Sam swallows, nervously. He hadn't considered the 'if'. That the amalgamation wouldn't have a place here with those of his kind. What would he do if he wasn't able to stay here? Sam is too scared of the answer to ask. He's responsible for the amalgamation. What is he going to do?
Bumblebee looks down at him, pulling him close to his chest. Unlike Optimus who wrapped his hand around Sam, Bumblebee has his hands cupped so the teen is just sitting on his hands. It's not as constricting but he also feels like he's going to fall off. With that though, he grabs onto Bumblebee's thumb, just in case.
He chirps inquisitively, but Sam shakes his head, chewing on his lower lip.
A few minutes later, Optimus walks into the room with Ironhide behind him - the black bot pausing at the entryway to speak to someone outside the door, probably Mudflap and Skids - before closing the door behind him.
"Are we ready?" Optimus asks, looking around the room for nods of agreement before landing on the Autobot's medic. "Remember everyone, we want to keep him as calm as possible. This is all incredibly new to him. He will need time to adjust. We must be accommodating." A meaningful pause that makes some of the tension loosen in Sam's gut before he nods to the green bot. "Whenever you're ready, Ratchet."
Ratchet types away at the tab on his arm before lowering it and turning his attention to the amalgamation. Sam follows his gaze, noticing that aside from Jolt and Sideswipe, everyone is giving the amalgamation space, almost so it won't look like they are all looming over him.
It feels like time stretches into eternity; Sam barely able to hear over his own racing heart, when the amalgamation stirs. A jolt here, a twist there. The mass of spindly arms, all the fingers - those that were repaired - all flex and curl as feeling returns to them. The one arm that hadn't been forcefully removed from across his chest hisses as it disengages and carefully moves to mimic his other arm resting at its side. The metal, like wide flat panels, move and shift, rounding out to look more like arms, narrowing.
It's so strange to Sam. He's sure the Autobots probably know why it's like that, but his arms turned almost plate-like over his abdomen, like an extra layer of protection, fusing near seamlessly over his stomach. Sam's not sure why, and never actually came to think about the why behind it.
Like feeling returning to a limb, the amalgamation flexes his body a bit, before the dull gray of his eyes bleed red once more. There is a roar in his chest as if all the systems inside of himself all power on at once. Sam didn't have time to wonder if it was a good or bad thing before he was answered with a tension striking the Autobots. No weapons pop out, but they all go rigid.
Except for Optimus.
His posture remains completely relaxed as he takes a few steps closer, but still offering the amalgamation some space. "Good morning, friend. Can you understand me?"
The amalgamation tenses, red eyes turning to look at the Autobot leader, then around the room, making note of everyone, all staring back at him just as intensely. His red eyes focus on Sam, cupped in Bumblebee's hands, before growling a bit.
A strange click. Then another. Then one more. Sam wonders if it's supposed to be their language, but none of the Autobots are responding, and it doesn't really sound right. It sounds a lot like what Bumblebee's throat had sounded like the night before. Right before he spoke.
"Release the Creator." The amalgamation booms. His voice deep and guttural. Whereas Optimus's deep voice has a rasp and gravelly sound to it, the amalgamation's is just smooth baritone.
Bumblebee tenses up. He shakes his head, his radio playing, "Oh hell nah."
Red eyes narrow as he moves to sit up, flinching at a spark on his arm, where Ratchet had plugged into it before. He ignores it and just looks between Bumblebee and Sam, once more demanding, "Release the Creator."
"Easy now," Optimus starts, his voice still calm and even.
Bumblebee's eyes narrow too, pulling Sam closer to his chest. So much so, Sam can feel the rumble of the yellow bot's engine against his spine, hear a bit of the louder inner mechanics at work beneath his armor. "How about no, Scott."
Sam holds his hands out when the amalgamation snarls, yelling louder than he intended, "Wait!" The amalgamation stiffens, obeying. He looked like he was about to get up, which probably wasn't about to go well for any of them. Sam takes a few, gasping breaths, trying to calm himself before saying, "It's okay. They won't hurt you."
The amalgamation stares back at him from over the lifted collar covering his mouth. "This platform does not fear damage, Creator. This construct must regain the Creator to ensure your continued safety. This platform will get the Creator."
Bumblebee growls. "The hell you are!"
"Settle, Bumblebee," Optimus warns, his posture still at ease, voice still calm.
Bumblebee struggles for a moment, warring on whether he should obey or not, before he does. His metaphorical hackles lowering again.
"I'm okay," Sam says, catching Ratchet looking around displeased, as if unsure of which part he dislikes about this situation the most. Jolt, Sideswipe and Ironhide are all watching the amalgamation unblinking, waiting for him to make the wrong move.
"This platform must save the Creator. This platform has already failed once. This platform cannot fail again."
Pain grips at Sam's chest. "I'm sorry," he says, shamefully. "I was in a bad way. I... I lost my memories. I was confused. I wasn't in any danger from the Autobots, from them," Sam gestures around himself, not sure what all Ratchet had given the amalgamation. "They weren't going to hurt me. They're my friends. You didn't fail to save me, because I didn't need to be saved."
The amalgamation, still tense, looks around again, as if unsure. "This construct... has no purpose?"
Sam blinks, surprised. "What?"
Sideswipe winces, as if the question struck him, while Jolt's eyes flicker down, then back up, remembering to stay vigilant.
The amalgamation looks at Sam, gaze heavy with dread. "This construct... has no purpose, Creator? The need for this construct has been fulfilled?"
"What?" Sam asks, confused. This sinking feeling claws at his chest.
"By 'construct'," Optimus says slowly, drawing weary red eyes to him. "You are referring to 'cold construct', are you not?"
The amalgamation hesitates, looking between Sam and Optimus before nodding. "The Prime has deemed to speak to this platform."
Optimus shifts, arms crossing over his chest defensively. Sam feels a radiating discomfort fill the room, making everyone shift back and forth. Even Bumblebee. But the discomfort isn't from Optimus, it's from the amalgamation.
"The Prime should not speak to this platform. This platform has failed its duties to its Creator. Will the Prime have this construct decommissioned?" A pause, then, to Sam. "Will the Creator?"
Sam shakes, overwhelmed by the intense feeling of sadness and fear washing through the room. Bumblebee holds him closer. "Decommissioned? What? You mean like dying? Like we would kill you? No! Why would we do that?"
"This platform has failed," the amalgamation intones, shoulders slumping, like it brought him pain to admit. "And without purpose, this construct has no reason to exist."
"I - what? No!" Sam says, shaking his head. His hands tremble as his heart races. Ratchet is staring at him intensely, a scowl across his face. "No, that can't - ! I didn't mean - " Sam blinks rapidly, not able to form words. He looks desperately to Optimus.
Taking his cue, Optimus looks over at the amalgamation. "We are not going to decommission you. We simply wish to help. This was all a misunderstanding." The Prime opens his posture again, arms lowering to his side. "I am sorry that we attacked you."
The amalgamation jolts, as if surprised. Red eyes flicker and a spark flies from his head as if unable to understand Optimus's words. "The Prime says this thing that should not be said. Not to a failed construct."
"Were you not listening?" Optimus asks, his voice gentling. "You creator has said already that you did not fail."
The amalgamation steals a quick look at Sam before wearily returning to Optimus. He struggles, as if looking for the words before rumbling, "This platform serves no more purpose to the Creator." Pain, heart-wrenching sadness. "This platform failed before its construction."
"No!" Sam says, voice ladened with guilt. He did this. It's his fault. "No, you didn't do anything wrong! It was me. I was the one who - I was - I didn't know..." He rubs his hands roughly over his eyes.
"Sam," Optimus says softly while Bumblebee leans forward, nuzzling the teen. A wash of undeserved affection makes Sam's skin prickle.
"I'm sorry," Sam says, on the verge of crying. The emotions whirling inside of him feel intensified a thousand-fold with the weight of sadness and pain pulling at every inch of his skin. In his peripheral, Ratchet tilts his head.
"Do not apologize to this platform, Creator," the amalgamation rumbles, turning sad red eyes to the distressed human. "It is not the Creator's fault that this platform could not succeed."
"But that's the thing," Sam says, gripping his chest trying to calm his pounding heart. "It isn't you. You didn't ask for this. For any of this! It was just me panicking in an unfortunate situation. I'm sorry that you feel like you failed, but you didn't! You didn't fail me. You did everything you could to help me, even though you shouldn't have had to." He sobs, unable to stop himself, the sadness is choking him, squeezing his body from all sides.
The Autobots' stiffen, but Ratchet draws closer, tilting his head more, those blue eyes bright like tiny stars. "Sam..."
Optimus's expression tightens, looking over at Ratchet while the amalgamation finally moves steadily to his feet, ignoring the unease of Jolt, Sideswipe and Ironhide. The lattermost of the three looking between the amalgamation and Ratchet.
"Do not feel sorrow, Creator," the amalgamation murmurs. "This construct has the kindest Creator."
A sweeping feeling of affection helps Sam from not completely falling apart but he's still sobbing, gripping hard at his chest, terrified his heart will punch right through his breastplate and hands.
"Optimus, immobilize EMP fields and fill it with calm," Ratchet orders, voice stern.
Optimus stares at Ratchet, not moving. Many sets of blue eyes turn to the Autobot leader and medic in confusion when the maelstrom of emotions that Sam was feeling weighing him down and tearing him apart eases away. And like that, Sam could control himself again. He was still hurt, still upset, but it felt like it was coming from within now.
The amalgamation hisses, glaring mistrustfully at Optimus, shifting away.
Ratchet holds out his hands in a sign of peace. "Calm. This isn't for you. It's for your creator. He is being overwhelmed by our EMP fields. This is just to help him think clearly."
Bumblebee stiffens at that, looking down at Sam in shock, which he just blinks at in surprise, wiping the tears from his face gruffly. "Wh-what?" He sniffles, nose stuffy. Great. "You mean me?"
Ratchet nods, casting a curious look his way. "I've been curious for a while, Sam. But this just confirms it. We can talk more about that later, though. For now, say your piece."
Sam doesn't understand what's happening, but the fog settling into his brain has finally cleared, so he can at least focus. His heart no longer feels like it's going to explode out of his chest.
"I don't want you to think you failed," Sam finally manages to say, somewhat evenly. He sniffles again as his gaze meets that of the amalgamation once more. "Thank you for coming to my rescue. Thank you for doing everything that you could. But just because I don't need you to fight off the Autobots doesn't mean I don't want you to still be by my side."
The amalgamation seems surprised by that, forgetting his ire towards Optimus, who was now staring intently at Sam. "The Creator wants to keep using this failed platform?"
"You didn't - " Sam starts and then sighs. It's going to take more than one conversation, it seems. "Yes. I want you here. Not against your will, of course. But I don't want you to die. You didn't do anything wrong."
The amalgamation shifts, like he doesn't understand. Then he confirms that by saying, "This construct does not understand."
Sam has no idea how to say this. Struggling to find the right words, Sam tries a different approach. Clearing his throat and sniffling a bit, he says, "I wanted to give you a name."
The amalgamation jerks, spine snapping straight. Sideswipe smiles at his side.
"Does the Creator not mean a designation..?" the amalgamation asks softly.
Sam frowns. "I... don't know what the difference is."
"He means a name," Sideswipe interjects, still smiling. He ignores Ironhide's look.
The amalgamation looks at Sideswipe with a slightly narrowed expression before Sam's words pull his attention back to the human, "It's going to sound silly, just so you know. But you're a Cybertronian, but you're also an Earthling. You have two homes. I couldn't think of a good Earth name to give you, so I decided to just give you a name that I hope you'll like enough until you come up with a better one yourself."
Relief and affection blast through the calm, making Sam shiver. Ratchet and Optimus's eyes both flare at that before the calm settles around them again, muting everything else.
"Will the Creator tell this platform? What this construct should be known as..?" the amalgamation asks softly.
Sam nods, relieved. "It's not a great name, just forewarning you. But I think it fits, for now. If you don't hate it, I would like to call you Earthquake."