Chapter Text
At first Bumblebee looks confused. He seems to be thinking about Sam's words over and over before the truth dawned on him. If a hologram could loose color, Sam is sure Bumblebee's color would have faded from his face by the look of horror that crossed it. His big blue eyes dart back and forth as if trying to pluck an explanation from the air.
"Who told you?" Bumblebee finally asks after a panicky struggle to find the answer himself.
Sam, who couldn't find the energy to keep standing all the while Bumblebee was having his internal strife, sits in the dirt. "No one, Bee. I over heard you, Prowl, Optimus and Ratchet talking about it."
Bumblebee looks around confused, thinking back. "But... there's no way that you could have... understood us..."
"Why?" Sam asks.
Bumblebee looks at Sam with impossibly big eyes. "We were speaking our native language. There is no way you would be able to-"
"The All Spark," Sam says, cutting Bumblebee off. "I felt like it was holding me in place. I didn't want to ease drop, Bee, believe me. After all of this crazy stuff going on, playing interpreter doesn't seem that far out of the All Spark's capabilities."
Bumblebee looks like he wants to argue but nothing seems to come from it. He turns away for a moment, as if trying to school his features away from Sam, before turning back. "Why would the All Spark do that? Interpret my confession?"
For some reason, Sam flinches at Bumblebee's words. They seem so matter-of-fact. Like... like they were just talking about the weather. Sam wasn't sure what he would do if Bumblebee just suddenly got all emotional, especially after what happened earlier, but this definitely wasn't what he was thinking would happen. He doesn't know which he would prefer; emotional or not.
Sam feels mentally and physically drained from their earlier ordeal but Bumblebee definitely looked emotionally drained. Maybe this would have been different had Sam brought it up a different time. Sam's still indecisive as to whether ripping the band aid off like this or letting it draw out is okay. It's too late now, though. Bumblebee knows that Sam knows, now they have to face it.
Sam just can't believe that the All Spark would go this far just so Sam could learn that Bumblebee is in love with him. In the grand scheme of things, Sam can't honestly see where something like that would be worth this ageless cube's time. It seems to be doing more harm then good each time Sam tries to understand the All Spark's reasoning behind the things that it does.
"I don't know, Bee," Sam says softly.
There is a pregnant silence between them. Thick and uncomfortable. Sam hates it. There has never been a silence like this between them. It's completely unnatural and wrong. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, which surprised Sam.
Sam looks at Bumblebee, trying to think of some way to integrate this awkward topic into the conversation. He watches as the blue eyed Autobot looks off into the distance with cloudy eyes. Lost in thought.
"Bumblebee," Sam says, pulling the scout's attention to him, "I want to know what it means to be sparkmates."
The yellow Autobot thinks about that for a long moment, before walking over to the tired human and kneeling in front of his sitting form. "It is commonly believed on Cybertron that when the All Spark blessed life to one of us, a chunk of it was missing. Half, to be exact. Later on in life, or maybe even before your time, the other half is given. A secondary goal in life is to find said bot that has your other half."
"Like soul mates," Sam says. Bumblebee nods.
"Precisely. Our sparks resonate with this power... it's beautiful. It's liberating. It's like I've been half a bot my entire life until..." he stops, giving Sam this look. Almost like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It slowly fades and this gentle, affectionate look takes it's place. "I know this is weird for you, Sam, but don't worry. I'll try harder to not let this become an issue. I swear."
"It's not an issue," Sam says quickly. "It's just... weird. You know all about human society. It's just not... normal for humans..."
Bumblebee literally deflates before Sam's very eyes. He looks around, at everything but Sam. "I know. I know all about that. Trust me, Sam, I was never going to tell you how I felt." Somehow, that didn't make Sam feel any better. In fact, it left a cold chill in the pit of Sam's belly. Something about being told that he wouldn't of found out conventionally doesn't sit well with him.
"Why?" Sam hears himself asks. Was there a sharp undertone to his voice?
Bumblebee looks confused. "Why what?"
"Why wouldn't you ever tell me?" Sam asks, eyebrows narrowed.
Bumblebee blinks slowly. "I, uh, thought that you would be upset about hearing that..."
"But we're friends, Bee, don't you think you should tell me when it pertains to you? I know, I heard that you were scared I would hate you," Bumblebee opens his mouth about to protest but Sam sighs, shaking his head, "I can't accurately say how I would feel about a confession from my best friend but I'm a little hurt that you would think that I'm some kind of bigot."
Bumblebee opens his mouth, probably about to deny thinking that about Sam, but then he closes it when he gets a good look at Sam's pale face. It looks gaunt and gray. His eyes are ringed and red. He's barely holding himself up as it is. So Bumblebee steps close to Sam and kneels down to be eye-level with him.
"You need rest, Sam, we can talk about this later," Bumblebee's voice is soft and gentle. The affection laced thick in those simple words.
"I..." Sam forces his eyes open, trying to ignore how tired he is. "I don't want there to be secrets between us, Bee."
Bumblebee nods slowly. "I know. I don't either."
Sam roughly rubs his face. "I don't know what exactly to do about this... but we can't let it ruin our friendship, okay?"
Bumblebee nods, lips tight in a thin line.
"You are still my best friend, Bee..."
"And you are still my best friend too, Sam. You never stopped."
Sam blinks slowly, shaking his head to clear his befuddled mind. "Then why...? Why couldn't you say anything?"
"I..." Bumblebee seems to search for the answers as if they are floating around in the air. His blue eyes wide and innocent. still very child like. Sam still has to remind himself that Bumblebee isn't even considered a full fledged adult by Cybertronian terms. He's still relatively young. "I love you, Sam, and the thought of you hating me for that would ruin me."
Sam's mind clears a little. He gets a touch of clarity and he is inclined to believe it's the All Spark's doing. "I love you too, Bee... I just... I'm just not sure to what extent that is. I just need some... some time to think about it. Can I have that?"
Both of Bumblebee's bodies jolt in surprise, hope flickering across both faces. Bumblebee quickly reigns in his excitement and hope for a too-fast nod and a tiny smile. Bumblebee's holo form disappears and Bumblebee's bi-pedal form transforms into his alt mode, the driver's door popping open.
"Sam," Bumblebee says over the radio, "you could have the moon and stars if you asked."
Sam had to admit that he felt a lot better when he woke. Contrary to last time he slept in the medbay, to which he woke from a horrible nightmare to the twins arguing in the next room, this time it was silent. Mostly anyway, except for the gentle hum of the machines around him. A quick glance around room showed that other than him, it was empty.
Sam takes this few moments of silence to stretch out as far as he can go. Pops rolling down his spine. He freezes, holding himself fully stretched relishing as the pleasure sings from his body before he releases and lays back down. He smiles contentedly. After a moment of looking around the quiet room Sam groans loudly, hating that he has to leave his bed. Normally the stiff would be less then pleasing, but he's had the best sleep he's had in a long time last night. He hates to let it go for fear it will not be duplicated tonight.
Unfortunately, Sam isn't a high schooler any more and he's got obligations to uphold.
But first, his stomach is rumbling loudly, demanding his attention first. Sam decides that it's best to succumb to his body's will before going about rationally. He doesn't even know how long he's been asleep. The linoleum floor is cold on Sam's bare feet. He does a little floor-is-so-fucking-cold dance before he got used to it and makes his way to the door, stopping momentarily to slip on his sneakers. It's eerily quiet and Sam isn't sure if he is relieved or worried.
After what happened yesterday, or what he thinks is yesterday, Sam isn't sure exactly what he expects but this silence wasn't it. He'd at least expected Bumblebee to be there waiting for him to wake up.
Sam halts, hand outstretched to open the door. Bumblebee. He was so delirious that most of it was like someone else was talking to Bumblebee, not Sam. He knows everything that was said and it makes sense, mostly. Luckily Sam didn't commit to anything until he's had time to adequately think about it. Woah, this is crazy. Sam is actually considering trying a relationship with Bumblebee. What kind of strange, exotic fangirl's dream world has this turned into?
Sam shakes himself, stomach rumbling. He opens the door. The cold air makes bumps appear on Sam's arms. His thin white t-shirt barely protects him from the declining temperature. His sweatpants aren't jeans but a quick glance around the sterile white room showed him that there was no other choice. He securely closes the door and squints into the sunlight. It's about noon, so if he was asleep it's been a little less than twenty-four hours. That's still a long time in Sam's mind. He has a lot of stuff to do and not as much time as he'd like to complete it.
Taking a moment to get his bearings, Sam makes his way toward the cafeteria. His stomach grumbling again at the prospect of food. About half way there Sam noticed that the usually bustling base is silent. Worried, Sam picks up his pace until he's running. It takes him a moment to realize that he has deterred from the path to the cafeteria and is on the way to the Autobot's hanger. His running turns into full out sprinting.
The chilled air burns Sam's lungs and a stitch works its way to his side. Sam puts his hands out in front of him and shoves the door to the Autobot's hanger wide open. It slams against the wall on the other side.
"Bumblebee!" Sam calls, his voice strained and his breath heavy. "Optimus?"
Silence. The hanger is empty. No personnel, no soldiers and definitely no Autobots. The base is empty, it's got to be. Where is everyone otherwise? Did they all abandon the base? Sam can't imagine why, though. Why would they all just up and leave? What is going on?
Sam doubles over, breathing heavily.
"Sam..."
The young human freezes, his breathing stops. That voice came from outside. It sounded like it was called from a megaphone.
"Sam Witwicky, there is no place to hide."
Hide? Why would Sam need to hide? And from who?
Suddenly, Sam is afraid. He runs away from the door, ignoring the pain in his lungs and side. He has to hide. He doesn't know why other then that he has to. He's not safe. Could this be because of the All Spark? Is it warning him that he's not safe? It doesn't matter. What matters is he has to hide. He finds a few crates on the upper level, accessable by the stairs. It's used to be closer to eye level with the Autobots. Half way up, Sam almost gave up, his body like lead.
He somehow manages to hide behind the crates just as shadows darken the entrance to the hanger that Sam entered through.
"We know you're in here, Sam Witwicky, show yourself." a man says.
Heavy boots pound the concrete floor as they move into the hanger. Sam can distinctly hear the sound of gear shifting. Familiar army gear. Could this...? Could this be the people that broke into his and Carly's house? The Sector 7 people?
Eli Brown was his name, if Sam recalled.
Sam's heart thumps loudly in his chest, blood like ice in his veins. Sam pulls himself up against the crates, breathing shallow despite the stitch in his side and his erratically beating heart. He has to ignore the light headedness that follows.
"What are you doing, Sam?" The man asks. Sam holds his breath. "Where are the Autobots, Sam? Where are they?"
Sam glances over the side, looking down at a portion of the empty room, wondering the exact same thing. How could they just leave him here? Unprotected? And after the conversation that Sam and Bumblebee had earlier, something about it gives Sam the impression that being Sparkmates doesn't exactly entail leaving him behind unprotected where there are possible killers on the loose looking for him. Keeping in mind that other then the mall, they haven't seen or heard anything about them, but still.
This just isn't like them at all. Optimus and Bumblebee aren't like that. Not even in the slightest. They would never do something like that to him. Would they? No! He can't question them, their his friends. If he can't believe that they only want the best for him, what can he believe?
Sam flinches back when the man speaks again. "You're hiding from something you can't see, Sam." The sound of boots heavily tapping the ground, moves further into the hanger. His footsteps sound like huge text books dropping from a desk in the silence of the room. Sam scoots as close to the crate as possible, giving desperate, hoarse breaths struggling to stay as quiet as possible.
"Sam, don't you see? The Autobots are the only ones who can give you the answer you seek, yet they don't even know the questions." Questions? Sam mouths to himself, trying to think back to when he had any clear cut questions. Something he couldn't answer with just speculation. That was probably when he got the criptic message from the All Spark.
Nothing is merely coincidence. Everything has a purpose.
It seems like ever since Sam learned that, it's come up more and more. It's gotten to the point now where Sam can only assume that there is a message within the message, but to that; he hasn't given much thought.
"Here's something for you to consider: what do the Primes not have that all other Cybertronian's do?"
Sam blinks slowly in puzzlement. What the hell does that mean? Sam wasn't even aware that there was something that all Cybertronians had that the Primes didn't. Is it some kind of trick? But why? What's the point?
"We will find you, Sam. It is inevitable. We have something that you need." Eli Brown says softly. Even though the words are soft, Sam feels like they were screamed in his ear. Sam's heart pounds so loud it feels like it's echoing off the walls of the otherwise quiet room. "There you are, Sam."
The voice, it was in his ear, hot breath on the back of his neck. Sam yelps, jumping to get away.
Sam nearly falls out of bed. He looks around wildly, trying to get his bearings. He's back in the medbay. How? It's still cold, but Sam's heavy breaths fill the silence. Something glowing is leaned over him. Sam wails, throwing himself away from the lights.
"Sam, Sam, it's okay. It's just me," Ratchet says, hand over his spark. "You nearly scared the spark out of me with all your screaming."
"Wha..?" Sam shakes his head, squinting into the darkness at the two floating blue orbs, reminding Sam of the orbs in the All Spark induced dream. The ones that he couldn't get too close to before waking up. But how did he get back into the medbay? Where is Eli Brown? How..?
"It was just a nightmare, Sam, you're safe," Ratchet says, lowering himself a bit trying to comfort the young hero. He's not sure he's doing a good job, he's a little rusty. It's been a long time since he's had to comfort something so young. More specifically, a sparkling that young. Way too long.
"A nightmare?" Sam mumbles, the word sounds foreign in his ear and even more so on his tongue. It's been so long since he's had one that he almost forgot what they were. Of course! There is no way the Autobots would just abandon him unless it was because of a nightmare. There is no way that Sector seven could get to him in the heart of his own base.
"Your heart rate is lowering, good. Are you oaky now, Sam?"
Sam nods. "Yeah," he says breathlessly. "Sorry about that, Ratchet."
Ratchet shakes away thoughts of sparklings and returns his focus to Sam. "No, it's fine. I brought you here to monitor you. Thankfully you didn't... uh... have another of those dreams. It was just a normal, human dream - er nightmare."
Sam laughs breathlessly. "Yeah, I guess. It was just so weird."
Ratchet is quiet for a long moment before he settles himself in a sit, still looking at Sam in the darkness. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Sam's automatic reaction was to say no, but then he realized he did. He wanted to talk about it with someone. Hell, there was a lot he wanted to talk about but for now, the dream was a good start. So Sam gives Ratchet the play by play of his dream. The old medic remains silent through the entire thing, Sam moved back to the center of the bed and looked up at the glowing Autobot eyes.
After Sam finishes, they sit in silence, thinking about it. Finally, Sam asks, "What does Optimus and other Primes not have, Ratchet?"
A quiet moment passes before Ratchet says, softly, as if to not disturb the silence that blanketed them, "I don't know." Sam's heart sinks a little. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Why would it? Maybe it's something to best ask Optimus.
Having a similar thought, Ratchet says, "Optimus may know."
Sam nods. "I figured, Hey, what time is it, by the way?"
"About one thirty. One twenty-six to be more specific."
They sit in silence. Each lost in his own thoughts.
"I guess..." Sam starts, trying to fill the silence for some reason. "I guess I'll talk to Optimus about this. Tomorrow, of course. If anyone can figure this out, it's him. Right?"
Ratchet nods slowly. "Yeah," he says softly and Sam can't help but wonder if there is something else going on that he's not saying. "Optimus would be the logically sound one to go to. But Sam, keep this in mind: Optimus has been deeply concerned for a while. He's stressed."
"Concerned about what?" Sam asks, thinking back to the day he asked the Autobot leader about their trip to the mall. How he was looking off in the distance, greatly distracted. Sam had kind of disregarded the worry back then and now he feels bad about it. He hasn't given Optimus the time of day as he probably should have. He's been so wrapped up in his own world and his own issues that he didn't much pay attention to the world around him.
Ratchet looks around as if uncomfortable. "I... I have my theories, but I believe that is something that Optimus will have to answer, himself. Sorry, Sam."
"No," Sam says too quickly. "It's okay. Really. I'll talk to Optimus. I'll figure this out."
Ratchet stands, nodding more to himself then Sam. "I'm sure you will, Sam. Just trust your instincts."
After Sam chokes down a bagel for breakfast, he goes in search of the Autobot leader. It's early and barely anyone is out and about yet, but Ratchet assured Sam that Optimus was awake and out and about. It didn't take Sam long to logically think up where Optimus would go. Sam found himself standing in the west field. Optimus just paces ahead, staring off into the distance with a solemn look on his face.
Just like before, Sam takes a moment to study the old bot. He's standing tall and proud to the untrained eye, but Sam sees the subtle sag in his posture. The dark, calm look on his face. His shoulders slightly stooped, like a heavy weight is placed on his shoulders. But his eyes, pointed off over the field but Sam doubts that he's actually seeing it.
There is great sadness in his eyes, like he's watching the horrors of his life on repeat and all it's succeeding to do is make him sad. Sam wonders if he's thinking about Cybertron and his dying race. Maybe he's thinking about the All Spark. Maybe he's thinking about the things that the All Spark is doing to Sam. And maybe that's making him sad. There is a small crease on his face where his metal eyebrows pull together slightly.
"Optimus?" Sam says softly, pulling the Autobot leader from his thoughts.
Optimus blinks slowly once, twice, thrice before looking down at Sam, slightly surprised to see him. "Sam, how are you feeling?"
Sam smiles faintly. That's just like the old bot to turn the attention to anyone but himself. That just furthers Sam's belief that the Autobot leader was thinking about something troublesome. He would do anything to avoid talking about it.
"I'm okay, Optimus. A picture of good health. The question is, are you okay?" Sam raises an eyebrow.
Optimus nods, jerkily, then stops, staring down at Sam. Finally, he says, "I am. I'm just thinking about troubling stuff." Figures, Sam thinks, rolling his eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam asks.
Optimus closes his eyes. "Not especially," he admits.
They sit in silence for a long time, just staring at the tall grass swaying in the breeze. Sam pulls his jacket tighter around his body. The cold bites a bit at the tip of Sam's nose but he ignores it. The days are steadily getting colder. It's definitely colder today than it was yesterday. But of course yesterday isn't something Sam wants to think about right now. He doesn't want to think about the panic, the picnic and the talk with Bumblebee. And at the very top of that list is the All Spark. If he could, Sam would just wipe yesterday completely from his memory but there's no chance of that.
"Really, Optimus," Sam says, looking up at the red and blue Autobot, "what's wrong? Is it the same thing that was bothering you the day we went to the mall?"
Optimus turns his head up, to stare at the brightening sky. "Truthfully? Yes. It... has been something that has weighed on my mind for a long time."
"Tell me about it," Sam says softly.
Optimus hesitates and for a second Sam's worried Optimus will just turn and walk away. But instead, he shakes his head and sighs, a worn look etched into the metal. His shoulders droop slightly and he looks at least a hundred years older now than he did a moment before.
"Sam, it's not... I don't know how to say this without it seemingly like I'm blaming anyone. Because I'm not. It's no ones fault really." Sam doesn't like the sound of that, his gut twisting uncomfortably. The bagel he ate earlier sitting a little bit heavier now. "I just, can't stop thinking about it," Optimus continues softly, eyes staring off into the distance unseeing. "All I could think about was saving everyone from Megatron's tyranny. He couldn't get his hands on the All Spark. I knew that. But... I never thought that in the... endeavor," he says the word delicately but Sam flinches anyway, "of trying to do that, the All Spark was destroyed."
"Because I shoved it in Megatron's spark and it didn't even kill him," Sam says bitterly. He was afraid that this was the fear that has been sticking to Optimus for so long and he didn't fail to notice the old bot flinch at his words. Sam felt shame color his numb cheeks. Partly because he was the reason that a race was going to die out and ultimately there was nothing to show for it, Megatron still came back. And the other, more dominate part still sometimes forgets that Megatron and Optimus were once friends. Best friends, even. Brothers, Optimus had gone so far as to admit. They loved each other at one point. Now it's gone. Just like Megatron.
Even Sam never got the... pleasure of meeting Megatron post-madness, from the way Optimus fought so hard to rekindle the friendship they once had, it must have been powerful. Something you could only get once in a lifetime. A truly best friend. And Optimus killed his. If Sam were in Optimus's place and Bumblebee was in Megatron's, Sam isn't so sure he would be able to be as strong as Optimus.
"I'm sorry, Optimus, I get that Megatron meant a lot to you," Sam amends softly.
Optimus shook his head sternly, eyes narrowing slightly. Sam could see pain and sadness in the dimmed blue lights. "Megatron made his choices. I did... all I could to change his mind, but ultimately he made his bed, as the human phrase goes, and now he must lay in it." Optimus's voice is sharp and finite and Sam knows that the old bot doesn't want to talk about it anymore.
Going back to their original topic, respecting the old red and blue flamed Autobot's wishes, "So you're... mad about the All Spark?" About me destroying it and any chance of your race continuing? Sam could bring himself to ask, afraid of the answer.
"Not mad," Optimus says quickly, then adds, "at you, I mean. I told you to shove it into my chest should I lose. I knew it would destroy the All Spark and any chance my people had at survival, but..." and Sam heard it without Optimus having to say it. That raw energy, although it didn't kill Megatron, it could have killed Optimus and he wouldn't of had to watch as his people grew old and died without chance to repopulate. And that was a source of great shame for him. Optimus held the weight of his dying people on his shoulders like thousands of cinderblocks, all staked atop of each other. But not just the ones that will die with the thought that they may never join the Well of Sparks, but the ones that will never have a chance at life.
Sam's stomach twists even more at the thought. No wonder the old bot looks so tired and sad all the time.
Before Sam can offer some kind of comfort, although he hasn't the slightest clue what he would even say or do, Optimus continues, eyes glazed over, staring off thousands of miles away. "I never wanted this for my people. My entire life has been defending the people and the All Spark. It was the one and only thing that I truly loved in my life. So long as both were safe, I was content. I remember," a faint smile crosses his worn face, "a young couple coming up the All Spark. It was my first time witnessing the All Spark give life. The two bots, their sparks glowed so bright they were like burning suns. The All Spark zapped them with it's energy, their two sparks, along with the All Spark, mixing for just a moment and then it grew quiet and the light faded.
"The... carrier, the equivalent of your females, opened up the compartment where a sparkling can be carried and there he was, so tiny and fragile. The gathered crowd that often came to welcome a new bot into the world, cheered and hollered in happiness. Each life on Cybertron was priceless and beloved. The couple turned, glowing with pride and made their way away from the All Spark. The sparkling was ready to live away from the carrier a few months later." Optimus's eyes are unbelievable soft in remembrance.
Sam felt a little bit of happiness bloom in his chest, overshadowing the sadness that such a thing will never happen again. "Do you remember the little sparklings name?"
Optimus looks startled, like he forgot he wasn't alone. "Yes," he says something in Cybertronian, this time the All Spark didn't translate which Sam found a bit annoying but Optimus looks down at him and repeats, in English. "Roughly translated in your language, as Jazz."