You Can't Break Love Chapter 2
Yay! Next chapter! Finally manage to bring Sam and Bumblebee in. One benefit of going FREAKING STIR CRAZY waiting my Harry Potter book... time to write!
You Can't Break Love
Chapter 2 Ready to Run
Oops, forgot to do this last time. ^_^
Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin'
Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me
~ For Reaver, the unwilling father
For who he was before them
For who he became because of them
For what he did for them
For what he made them
Will was more than used to watching the battle of egos that took place between Reaver and his daughter. Reaver had (quite inadvertently) raised the only being in the universe that might have been more thick-headed and ill-tempered than he was, and that included Ironhide. Even so, the battle that ensued from this latest development was one for the record books.
Within a few minutes both were on their feet and almost nose to nose, shouting at each other with a venom worthy of the devil himself. Granted, there were more than a few who were under the opinion that Reaver (or his daughter, depending on whom you spoke to) was just that. Devils. After hearing some of the mind-bending insults and threats the two gave each other, the Lennox couple could see why.
"I forgot about this part," Sarah whispered, watching father and daughter warily.
"Sarah," Will sighed, "if Annabelle and I ever get like that, I beg you, shoot me and put me out of my misery."
Suddenly, Reaver grabbed Brea by the throat and lifted her off the ground. The girl just barely flinched as he roared, "You're my daughter and you'll do as I say!"
"Oh, so now you wanna be my father?" Brea snapped back, "Lousy timing, Fossil!"
For a moment it looked as though Reaver might actually try to strangle his daughter. Instead he moved this thumb half an inch and pressed it into the flesh between her neck and shoulder. She fell unconscious instantly.
William couldn't help but give a small snicker. Reaver responded by dumping Brea's dead weight in his lap, "Get her out of here before she wakes up or I'll have to do serious damage to both of you." Will opened his mouth to argue. "That's an order, soldier."
Will shot him a venomous look. One rank. One damn rank ahead of him. "What about her belongings, sir?" he uttered the final word with a venom that (he hoped) was comparable to what he'd seen of Brea's.
"I'll send them," Reaver replied flatly.
"How can you treat your daughter that way?" Sarah snapped suddenly, turning a furious glare on Reaver.
"Easy," Reaver set a sardonic smile on her, "she's been a thorn in my side since the day I knocked up her idiot mother." With that he walked back upstairs without so much as a backwards glance.
"You see why I always question him being your best friend."
Will and Sarah turned around to face a thoroughly amused Brennan. "That doesn't bother you?" Will asked flatly.
Brennan shrugged, "Not really. Even if he doesn't want us, he doesn't hate us, or we wouldn't be here." He cast a small glance at his sister, now cradled protectively in her godfather's arms, "It bugged me a little when we were younger, but Brea's skin is tougher than leather. There's nothing she loves more than fighting with Dad. He's the only person who can keep up with us anymore." He laughed, setting the most genuine smile William had seen in years on them, "We better get going. If Brea wakes up and she's still within shooting distance, it won't be pretty."
Summer. In Sam Witwicky's opinion, the best time of the year. Especially this particular year. He had the totally awesome car, a badass, hot as all hell girlfriend, and even parents that were mildly less irritating than most. Sure, he had burn scars on his hands from that rather odd little incident six months ago and he kept getting strange calls from the government (at all hours of the night, no less) as a result of said incident, but, all in all, he was happy.
Especially since he was currently watching his extremely hot girlfriend dive in and out of waves that were trying their hardest to remove the string bikini she was wearing. Sam wasn't about to complain. He was quiet happily sunbathing... on the hood of his '08 Camaro, and the Camaro was happily playing every Beach Boys song he could find.
"I still can't believe you talked those government people into this!" Judy Witwicky gushed up at her sun.
Sam just shrugged. He couldn't exactly tell his mom that he had helped save the world from giant attacking robots from another planet, so he just sort of made it up as he went. The government had made a big show of covering up the battle, blaming it on a terrorist bomb going off in Hoover Dam and another in Mission City. Those who had witnessed the attack had been paid off, relocated, and, in the cases where the people would just not shut up, conveniently removed from the scene. Sam tried not to think about the last part.
Right now, all he cared about was that his friends were okay and the government was, mercifully, leaving all of them alone. Even the crazy phone calls were becoming less frequent.
Suddenly, the radio snapped to a different station, lurching Sam from his thoughts. "Hey," he grumbled, "I like that song."
"Listen," the car hissed through a sudden bout of static.
"We have just received the final confirmation," the radio played. Sam sat up a little. "the terrorists that attacked Hoover Dam and Mission City last year have been located." The hair on the back of Sam's neck stood up. "The parties responsible are finally going to be brought to justice. It is believed that our former president, impeached in the wake of the attack, was conspiring with the attackers. His whereabouts, along with those of the terrorist group, known as Sector Seven, are currently unknown."
The odd swooping sensation in Sam's stomach was not all that dissimilar than when he had free-fallen from the roof of a building in Mission City, only this time, it was much worse. Immediately his mind went to William Lennox, the soldier who had helped him so much that day, who he had come to view as both a surrogate father and brother. His family was in danger, as were the other soldiers who had helped him. Epps with his three daughters, even that annoying bastard, Simmons.
'And us,' he thought, resting an uncertain hand on the hood of his car. He could almost feel an uncertain buzz coming from his best friend. 'We're in danger again.'
"What was that all about?" his father asked, glaring at the car, "Haven't you gotten that dumb radio fixed yet, Sam?"
"No," Sam muttered absently. He slid off the hood and faced his parents, "I'm... I'm not feelin' too good. I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel. Can you guys walk?"
"Sure, sweetie," Judy said, reaching out to feel her son's forehead, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, "just... a little out of it."
So he climbed in his Camaro and drove off before they could ask any more questions. He was quite sure his mom had noticed the odd word-like sounds that had come from the car a few moments ago and he really, really did not want to explain to them that his Camaro that used to be a '78 but was now an '08 was actually a giant robot from another planet.
"Sam?"
Sam sighed and gently kneaded the steering wheel with his hands, "Yeah, Bumblebee?"
The engine gave a sort of buzzing growl, "You're scared."
"No freaking duh," Sam grumbled, "What if they really ARE coming after us?"
Bumblebee was silent for over a minute. Finally, he answered, "I'll leave. They'll have no reason to come for you, then."
"No!" Sam snapped immediately, "No way! If you leave, I'm going with you!"
"You'll be in danger," Bumblebee warned.
Sam gave a nonchalant shrug, "What's being chased by a bunch of crazy humans after Megatron?"
Brea stared at Sideswipe's radio in shock. "You heard that, right sis?" Brennan's voice came through the radio.
"Yeah," Brea replied. She slammed her hand down on the speed dial in Sideswipe's steering wheel. Two rings and Lennox picked up. "Turn ya XM to CNN, now."
"Why?"
"Just do it!" Brea snapped. There was silence for a moment, then the unmistakable buzz of CNN clicking on.
"For those just tuning, the president has just given the final go-ahead for an all-out anti-terrorist assault on the group, known as Sector Seven, that is responsible for the attacks on Qatar, Hoover Dam, and Mission City. Unlike the terror cells of the past, this group was, and remains, hidden within the continental United States. A group of soldiers, among the Army Ranger Captain William Lennox and Air Force Combat Controller Jason Epps, have now been revealed to be mechanism of these attacks, working secretly for Sector Seven. It is also believed that billionaire racing monger and environmentalist Reaver Orren may have also been involved."
"That explains the super-raid," Brea murmured tiredly.
Will's voice rang through the speakers, "Please, please tell me this is your idea of a sick joke, Brea."
Brea glared at the steering wheel, "Will, I don't even know what Sector Seven is. How in the hell would I have cooked this up?"
"I was hoping your far-reaching and rather random influences included a knowledge of super-secret government groups," William admitted dryly, "Unfortunately, it seems we're actually gonna be running for our ever-loving lives."
"Seems that way," Brea sighed, "Sideswipe, change the channel, this is depressin'." The radio clicked over to a station playing Ten Thousand Fists.
"Your car has good taste," Will joked. On the other line, Ironhide switched over to the same radio station.
"So," Brea leaned back in her seat and let Sidewipe take the wheel, "Ya gonna explain this situation ta me or not?"
"It's a rather long story," an unfamiliar voice came through the speaker.
Brea jumped. Sideswipe nearly jumped the curb. "Ironhide?!" Sideswipe squeaked.
"Hello to you too, Sideswipe," Ironhide chuckled humorlessly, "Good to see you're still alive."
"Riiiight," Brea massaged her temples, "Okay boys, start talkin'. We've got another 500 miles ta home."
~Deadicated to the seventeen years a very talented authoress spent writing a story that captured the minds and hearts of millions.