Fic ;; Hopeless ;; ch 1

Jul 07, 2009 17:37

Yeah, de-lurking here, but hoo boy, I'm nervous. I've never written anything like this before.

Also, this is random, but did you know that if you rearrange the letters in beexsam you get beam sex?

Title: Hopeless (it's a working title, k)
Characters/Pairings: BeexSam
Rating: T (or PG)
Warnings: It's pretty safe.
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5198960/1/Hopeless (I'll put it under the cut too, in case you don't want to go to FF.net even though FF has italics...)


Now that the Fallen had, well, fallen, my life was exactly where I wanted it. I had Mikaela, the hottest girlfriend I could ever imagine, I was going to college like a normal kid, and the Autobots were still around which, while stripping me of the “normal kid” label, did improve the overall quality of my life. Not to mention, I had the best car anyone could have hoped for. In spite of all this, I had to ask myself just one question, a question I couldn’t find the answer to despite my efforts: Why wasn’t I happy?

I didn’t know. No one else knew either, because I didn’t ask them. They all assumed that I was perfectly content though in reality, I was far from it. Mikaela was the only one that seemed to pick up on the fact that something was wrong. Back then, she was the one that spent the most time with me, and it was only to be expected when she brought it up one day.

It was the middle of the week, a perfectly fine evening for a picnic, or so Mikaela thought. I hadn’t really been in the mood but when Mikaela wanted something, she seriously wanted it. I hadn’t had much of a choice. It was a pity though, since the park was crowded that day and Bumblebee was forced to wait out our date in the parking lot, in the sun no less. I found myself wondering if Bee ever just got hot from sitting in the sun for so long. I know I did. It felt as though I had been sitting there for hours listening to Mikaela complain. I wanted to sort out our relationship, I really did, but I didn’t know what was wrong with me. It was like running in a race. I was almost at the goal, but I didn’t want to win because the prize was something undesirable. I can’t describe it.

“The last time you told me that you loved me was in that desert, after you had almost died,” she was saying, her legs stretched out across the blanket.

“So?” I said, my fingers curled around a cold glass of water. “That was the last time you said it to me.” She sighed and looked away from me for a moment, as if searching the sky for words harsh enough to actually make an impact on me.

“No, Sam,” she said a moment later. “I said ‘I love you’ plenty more times than that, but you weren’t listening.”

“Oh yeah? Like when?” I countered a bit uselessly.

“Yesterday.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, as if considering. “Nope, I don’t remember that.”

“See? This is what I’m talking about!” she said, frustrated. “You’re like a completely different person. You never say that you love me, we never talk…” But the rest of her speech was lost to me. It was like I shut off my ears without even trying. She was so beautiful, but even though she was looking at me (with narrowed eyes, I will admit) and I was looking at her, I wasn’t really looking at her; it was more like I was looking through her, and I couldn’t understand why.

“Sam?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“Oh my God, you weren’t even listening!”

“Mikaela, I’m sorry, it’s been a rough week--”

“Oh yeah, really rough,” she spat, and I swore that she considered flinging the picnic basket at me. “Going to college and having dates with your girlfriend is really rough compared to fighting Megatron and saving the world for the second time!” At this point, she was standing up, her hands curled into fists at her sides. “God, Sam, you can be such a jerk.” There was a note of regret in her voice that time and I shot up from the ground, determined to fix whatever mistakes I had made. That note of regret felt like my last chance to fix things before she called me a name without remorse.

“Mikaela, look, we can fix this, okay?” I said softly but quickly, setting a hand on her shoulder. “We just need to sit down and have a good talk, and…” But I couldn’t finish my sentence, not after I realized that I was describing the picnic that I had just blown into pieces.

She swept my hand away and turned from me, heading back to the yellow and black Camaro. “Just take me home, Sam,” she said. I fumbled to gather the all of the picnic things together before rushing after her, dismayed when Bee opened the passenger door before I could. “Thank you, Bee,” she said, louder than necessary. I got the hint that she had been scolding me more than she had been thanking Bumblebee and I stuffed the picnic basket and blanket into the trunk without a word. When I slid into the driver’s seat, Mikaela had her arms crossed and she was staring out the window indignantly. I bet that she wouldn’t look at me the entire drive to her place.

Bee drove out of the parking lot without prying, his radio set to a classical station. I assumed that he had put that on specially for us, since he wasn’t the type to listen to soft music. I appreciated the calmness after Mikaela’s little fit, but saying anything in the near deafening silence would’ve made matters worse, even if I was just thanking Bee. I ended up just appreciating the slow curves of the music, trying to lose myself in the maze of instruments. Thankfully, the task wasn’t difficult. I tried to focus on the violins, how different they sounded when they hit those high notes and then those low notes, and before I knew it, Bee had pulled up to Mikaela’s apartment.

“No goodnight kiss?” I asked rather stupidly, leaning over as she climbed out of the car. She slammed the door in my face and I recoiled to slouch in my seat, those three stupid words still hanging in the air as if mocking me. I was beginning to wish I hadn’t said anything but “goodnight”, or maybe I should’ve stayed completely silent. Either way would’ve been better than what I had ended up saying.

“Sam?” Bee said softly, his voice coming from the speakers.

“That was-- aargh, I’m so stupid.” I grunted. I was very tempted to lash out at something, but I held back in fear of hurting Bee. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and I refused to take out my anger on him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bumblebee asked, concern coming through loud and clear.

“No, not really,” I replied even though it was a lie as I ran a hand through my hair. “Can we just get out of here?” Bee responded by speeding away from the curb, leaving the apartment buildings far behind us. We traveled in silence for a few minutes before the desire, the need, to tell someone caused me to break the illusion of the classical music.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, Bee,” I started quietly. The music began to die down, but not because the song was over. “No, that’s not true. I do know what I’m doing wrong, but that’s the thing. I don’t want to do the right things.” But that made me sound like a criminal and I quickly fixed that statement. “What I mean is… I don’t know how to say it.”

“Perhaps your relationship with Mikaela isn’t working out,” Bee offered.

“No, that’s not it!” I protested. “It’s like I know what I need to do to fix our relationship, but I don’t want to do it even though I know it won’t end well.”

“That is what I said.”

“But that means she’s going to break up with me.”

“Yes, that would be the logical course of action.”

“God, Bee!” I exclaimed with a wild hand gesture. “Do you think you could say something useful for once?”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Bee said quietly. I waited for him to say more, but he never did. We had arrived at the college campus and neither of us had said anything. Someone had once told me that guilt could kill you, and I didn’t start believing him until that moment that Bumblebee, parked in the parking lot, opened his door for me, still silent. I climbed out of the car and rested a hand on his hood, wondering if he could see my dismayed expression.

“Bee, I’m sorry,” I said softly, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. Mikaela was mad at me and I could stand that, but Bee was completely different. If Bee was mad at me, well, I didn’t know what would happen. Bee had never been angry with me before. But I certainly didn’t want to find out.

“Bee?” I tried again, but to no avail. I patted the Camaro’s hood one last time with a sigh. “See you in the morning.” The car’s headlights faded to black as I slowly but surely made my way to my dorm.

Luckily, I didn’t meet anyone in the hallways. I wouldn’t have handled more social communication very well. I assumed that they were all asleep, so I kept very quiet until I entered my room. I collapsed on my bed without even changing my clothes and buried my face in my pillow, wondering why I was so socially inept as of late. Mikaela’s anger was understandable, but now Bee wasn’t even talking to me and I didn’t know how long I would last like that. I tried to remember what I had said to Bumblebee that had gotten him so upset and I cringed inwardly when it came back to me. I was very tempted to get out of bed, go back outside and to the parking lot just to tell Bee that I hadn’t meant what I said. Id even go so far as to say that everything Bumblebee said was useful, because who was I kidding, it was true! But I was exhausted, too exhausted to get up and go all the way back to the parking lot. I still wanted to, but I couldn’t even bring myself to move and I fell asleep only seconds after my eyes slid shut.

fanfic, pg, t-rated, bumblebee, sam

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