Fic: Another Gate, Part IIIb
Title: Another Gate
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related characters therein do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Several years into the future, the war between Autobots and Decepticons continues. Through it all, life goes on, and Sam is keeping a secret.
Author's Note: The second half of part three, if that makes any sense. ^_^;; And, thus, the end.
Part I
Part II
Part IIIa
Astonishing, really, how fast Optimus could move. Sam dug his face into the ground, relishing the tremors of Optimus’ approaching steps; they were heavy, quick-he was running. And judging by the very faint echo, barely out of sync with Optimus’ step, he was just keeping ahead of Bumblebee. Shit, Sam thought, though he might have believed he said it aloud, judging by the way bloody saliva sprayed out the side of his mouth with the effort of talking. He did not want Bumblebee here. The throbbing pain returned, squeezing the arches of his ribs, and he twitched under it even as he reached for Optimus when the Autobot leader came up next to him and knelt.
“Sam!” Bumblebee shouted, reaching for his charge but was stopped as Optimus placed his own hand gently over Sam’s body.
“Colonel,” Optimus said, drawing Will’s attention upwards. Optimus’s gaze was serious, the light of his optics cold and serious. “Have you ever skinned an animal?”
Covered as he was by the gentle touch of Optimus’ fingers, eased slightly by the slight current of energy running through them and relaxing tensed muscles, Sam wished he could have seen Will’s face.
“What?” Will asked, clearly stunned. “I mean, I used to help my dad skin rabbits and deer when I was little and he took me hunting, but what-“
“Have you any mental reservations about performing the same task on a human cadaver?”
Scratch the previous statement. Sam wanted to see Will’s face at that. And everyone else’s, as well, judging by the silence that had fallen over the gathered soldiers and Autobots. He would have laughed, had the webbing pain not stretched itself deeper into bones and tissue. Sam whimpered, and Optimus fingers curled more tightly around him, forming a protective embrace before gently picking him up and holding him close to red metal chest plates.
“Optimus, please. I need the water…” Sam said, reaching out to try and run a hand along the glass, but his lack of coordination with it only caused him to scrape his knuckles, the gloves doing little to protect him at this point.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” Optimus murmured. “I got you, boy. Sideswipe, evacuate the immediate area. Now. Will, take the rest of the soldiers and find the local morgue. I need two human cadavers, preferably John Does but if not, make sure they are listed as organ donors. They do not have to be completely intact, and you have the authority to remove the needed bodies.”
Sam knew Will had to be confused, had to be hesitant and unwilling, but the situation left him little other choice than to trust in Optimus and follow orders. The soldiers present followed the command, scattering back to those vehicles that had been undamaged in the Decepticon attack.
“Bumblebee, go with them,” Optimus said, already starting to move back towards the Bridge.
“No,” Bumblebee replied. “I’m staying with Sam.”
“That’s an order, Bumblebee.”
“One I will have to disobey, sir,” Bumblebee said, tone just as forceful and entirely unrepentant. Optimus was going to argue, was ready to use force, but Sam writhed in Optimus’ grip, making the decision for him. There was not enough time.
“Then stay out of the way,” Optimus conceded, angry but unable to do anything about it for the moment. Sam folded in on himself again, the throbbing having changed to a sensation of millions upon millions of fire ants, biting and eating him from the inside out. Water, he needed water-and he could not stop the cry of sheer relief as Optimus set him down on the pebbly shoreline, the tiny waves lipping at his finger tips. It was so wonderfully, excrutiatingly cold. It gave him the strength, the incentive to crawl to his hands and knees and push himself toward the water.
Only to be stopped by the large, heavy hand of Bumblebee coming down in front of him.
“Sam, please, what’s wrong?” Bumblebee’s fingers curled, ready to pluck him from the icy waters, but Sam’s cry of distress stopped him. Sam draped himself across Bumblebee’s forefinger, using it to rest a moment.
“Bumblebee, stop,” he rasped, trying to give Bumblebee a reassuring pat but failing. “You don’t understand. The All Spark-“
Oh, God…it hurt. Anything to make it stop. Anything.
“What about the All Spark?”
“When…when I destroyed Megatron, it left residual energy. It, it kills me, Bumblebee.”
Sam could practically feel the alarm, hear the flow of energy spike through Bumblebee’s energon lines as warnings flashed in panic.
“It’s killing you!?” Bumblebee exclaimed, grip tightening to what would be painful levels, had pain not already enveloped Sam’s mind, crowding his thoughts. Sam shook his head.
“No, it kills me. Once a year. And I need the water, Bumblebee, to make it easier. I’ll be all right, trust me. Please, let me go.”
“Sam, I can’t-“
“Optimus!” Sam screamed, desperate and sobbing for it. “Make him let go.”
Almost instantly, Optimus was there, pulling Bumblebee away and prying his grip off of Sam. Finally free, Sam crawled into the Straits of Mackinac, muscles weakening with each movement as they dissolved underneath his skin. The alloy stretching its way through him was heavy, made him sink, kept him moving across the rocky bottom. His lungs did not even burn with the need for air. Through the cold water, Sam could hear the crush of metal as Bumblebee struggled against Optimus’ hold, heard the Cybertronian curses being spat at the Autobot leader.
Ah, the cold felt good. Its numbness spread, familiar, into his bones, traveling through the alloy webbing that made up his hands. He was hanging on by a mere thread, Sam knew. And it was easy to let go. He did not feel his heart stop-he did not have to. He knew it the moment he heard Bumblebee scream, and scream endlessly, voice garbled by the rushing water around Sam’s ears.
It’s okay, Bumblebee, Sam thought as a warm netting closed in around his mind, so comforting, a caterpillar’s cocoon that blocked out the rest of the world. His mind faded, closed off and folded inwards, like a neatly pressed blanket that was fresh from the dryer. I’ll be right back.
8888
By all accounts, the day was lovely. Full sunshine, with just enough warmth to stave off an uncomfortable chill, leaving the air crisp and fresh. The sky was blue, blue as only an autumn sky can achieve, skirted by the brilliant colors of changing leaves that drifted lazily down from tree branches. Even the grass was still soft and green. If the South was unmatched for the spring season, then autumn most assuredly belonged to the North. The smell of apples seemed to linger on the breeze itself.
Bumblebee sat in the sunshine, high on a hill that overlooked the Soo locks. The water glittered in the light, the glare almost too bright, and the ships moved steadily, slowly, in and out. He watched the freighters make their sluggish way into position, keeping his attention focused on them and not looking up when small footsteps padded their way through the grass towards him. Going barefoot was probably a little childish, Sam knew, and already he had endured some teasing from Will and the other soldiers, but it was the last day of the year to go barefoot and he was not about to waste it. And the ground was still faintly warm, soothing on newly formed skin, the grass pressing between his toes like the softest carpet ever made.
Sam sat next to Bumblebee, cross-legged, and leaned back to brace his weight on unbandaged, completely whole hands. Sam imagined he could feel the weight of Bumblebee’s scanners rest on his hands, penetrating deeply. He decided to remain quiet, and let Bumblebee speak first. Sam owed his guardian that much.
“Optimus tried to tell me what this was all about,” Bumblebee said at length, pointedly not looking at Sam. “But I would not let him. I wanted to hear it from you.”
He was angry, had every right to be, and Sam sighed with regret. Whenever he had decided to tell Bumblebee the truth about his ‘illness,’ he had certainly never planned for it to be this way.
“Bumblebee, are you sure you want-“
“I watched Optimus pull you out of the water, Sam,” Bumblebee interrupted, finally turning his head to look down at his friend. “And I didn’t even believe it was you, a mess of metal and tissue, hanging from you like torn ribbons as though you had been sent through a shredder. Even most of your face was gone, the lower half of your skull missing. The only thing holding you together was this…web. I watched Will and Optimus skin two human bodies, remove their organs and stuff them into you, then place the skin over you like a blanket. I watched you die, Sam, and a day later you are up and walking around, as new as can be. And you ask me if I want to know what happened.”
Sam looked down, avoiding Bumblebee’s penetrating stare and instead concentrating on the last of the summer’s insects make their way through the grass blades. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to tell the story he had before only told himself, in silence.
“The first time this happened, it was about a year after the Mission City battle. Well, really, it was a couple weeks after, when I noticed that my hands were hurting, itching. At first I thought it was an allergy, or a tendon strain or whatever, but it kept getting worse. You didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, so I wasn’t too worried. But it began to hurt more, and every time I scratched at it, I would start to bleed. When we visited the new base, I talked to Ratchet about it. He didn’t know what was causing it, but as time went on and my hands started to deteriorate, we figured it was due to me handling the All Spark. Some reaction with organic life forms, or something.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you just yet, and soon my hands stopped deteriorating-they just stayed like they were. Ratchet was working on a way to get them back to normal, so I just kept it to myself. About a year after that, you were sent on a mission to welcome a new arrival, who landed in upstate New York.”
“Yes, I remember. It was Prowl.”
Sam nodded, and opened his mouth to continue, but he still could not raise his gaze to meet Bumblebee’s.
“While you were gone, Optimus acted as my guardian, and I stayed at the base with him. Ratchet told him about my hands, and we decided to go to the old Sector Seven base at the Hoover Dam, to see if they had any records or information on similar occurrences with their researchers. While we were there, well…it was pretty much like what happened yesterday. All of a sudden, the pain I had felt in my hands started to spread, to all over, and it made me panic. I think it scared Optimus half to death-he didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know what to do, and we were alone. I don’t really remember a whole of it, but I do remember trying to get to the water, trying to jump into Lake Mead. Everything’s just…blank, after that. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in Ratchet’s medbay, pain gone and hands completely healed.
“The nearest we can figure, when I destroyed the All Spark, it started to try and create a new body-I mean, that’s what it did, whenever its energy was focused. I caught the backlash of it, and…I don’t have any part of the All Spark in me, but some of its creative energy is caught in me, like a program that keeps looping. And it keeps trying to make a new body. It starts with my hands, since that was the point of contact, and it replaces my tissues and bones with an alloy. It doesn’t work, of course, my body keeps rejecting it. The energy spreads, trying to compensate for organic life, and when it doesn’t work, it just…deletes it and starts all over again. It creates a new organic body for me to try again, trying a new method every time.”
“What about the bodies?” Bumblebee questioned, voice no longer angry, but Sam was hard pressed to identify any one emotion within it. Sam sighed heavily, feeling his shoulders slump with weight.
“The bodies,” Sam murmured. “Well, as I said, the All Spark energy creates a new organic body for me so it can start the process over. But it got rid of all my other tissues, and it’s impossible to create or destroy matter. It can just be changed. The energy needed a new source of skin and organs. I don’t remember any of it, but Ratchet told me. He was working with a human doctor, to learn more about Earth medicine and human physiology. A Dr. Richard Williams. They were both there when Optimus brought me back, already dead. I imagine I looked horrifying, but Dr. Williams and Ratchet both agreed to do as best an autopsy as they could, to determine exactly what the All Spark energy did to me. Ratchet went to gather some tools while Dr. Williams came up next to me to get a closer look.
“Apparently, according to Ratchet, at that moment I just…sat up. I grabbed him and…” Sam stopped, taking a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. “Ratchet said I started peeling his skin off like I was peeling a banana. I snapped his bones in half to get at the marrow and eat it, ripped the organs out and unfolded them to get a closer look. Stretched his muscles over my own form, placed his eyes into my own sockets. Tried to put his skin on like a coat. Poor Ratchet. He had no clue as to what was happening and he had to watch as I ripped this man apart. Then, I guess I just stopped. Collapsed, and Ratchet said I began to reform, most of Dr. Williams’ parts reshaping to become my own. And then about eight hours later, I woke up, completely fine with no memory past Lake Mead.”
Here, Sam dared a look up at Bumblebee, dreading what he would see but instead only found Bumblebee’s expression unreadable. Sam continued talking.
“Each human cell has, within it, DNA. It is the blueprint for our bodies, which proteins to synthesize and when. We think that the All Spark energy read my DNA, RNA…the entire layout of the cells and stored that information. When I receive the new parts from someone else, the energy reconfigures the DNA present to match my own genetic information. Those parts become my own. The All Spark energy then sets those cells to dividing, and when there’s not enough, believe it or not, it uses the adult stem cells to create new ones.
“Don’t worry about me going all angsty on the whole ‘it’s not really me,’ and ‘I’m not human’ drama spiel. I already went through all that with Optimus nine years ago, and I’m over it. I know I’m still Sam. It’s still me,” Sam repeated, softly. He leaned forwards, shifting his balance and bringing complete, unmarked hands into his lap. He flexed his fingers, each movement precise, controlled, and felt. “It’s more me than perhaps I was before.”
Sam jumped as he felt a weight settle behind him, lightly, across his spine. Bumblebee’s hand curled around him, the metal warm from sitting out in the sun.
“You said that stem cells-“
Sam shook his head, cutting Bumblebee off.
“No, we tried it. We tried to give the All Spark energy just stem cells to use and reformat, but it didn’t work. I need a full body donor. We try our best to be respectful to the person’s family, though, if they had one, and give them something to bury or scatter. And it doesn’t matter if the person is male or female, old or young-whoever it is becomes me, and they cease to exist.”
“And if there’s no donor available?”
“Don’t know. I’d either go looking for one or just be kept in stasis until one came near enough for me to seize-Ratchet and I aren’t too eager to find out. I’m just grateful it wasn’t Mikaela helping Ratchet out that day,” Sam mused, bringing his legs up to wrap his arms around them. He rested his chin on his knees, watching the boats go sailing by. One of Bumblebee’s fingers curled around his arms, pressing gently in as though he were trying to convince himself of the feel. That Sam was was not about to disappear. Another finger dipped low under his hip, shifting slightly while Bumblebee contemplated whether or not to pick Sam up.
“Are you mad at me?” Sam asked quietly, squeezing tighter in on himself. He had really not mean for Bumblebee to find out this way, if at all. So much could change, and Bumblebee was the one thing he was not sure he could handle losing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bumblebee questioned in turn, and Sam felt himself wither. This was the question he had been avoiding for going on ten years-all that time, all those sleepless nights trying to come up with a response, and still he had not been able to form a satisfactory answer. Even then, it was not likely Bumblebee would accept any response, no matter how reasonable.
“I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” Sam answered at length.
Bumblebee pulled away, not confident that his grip could keep from becoming too tight.
“Do you think so little of me, Sam?”
Sam winced. Bumblebee was not angry. Worse. He was hurt. Disappointed. Damn it. This was exactly what he did not want.
“It’s not that, Bumblebee, it’s just…it seemed better if no one knew. Everyone could keep their normal lives and…”
“And so you could, too?” Bumblebee finished for Sam. Sam dipped his head, barely looking over the tops of his knees and focusing on the water moving through the Locks. Even so far from the next Recycling period, the sight of the water soothed him. Eased the guilt that was tugging at him. Bumblebee was right, and Sam knew he was being selfish-had been selfish for ten years. He had been hiding, but not from everyone else, as he had tried to convince himself.
“I’m not mad at you, Sam,” Bumblebee said, answering Sam’s earlier question. “Just angry that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me. I don’t want to feel like such a failure to you again. Ever.”
And forever Sam added silently, looking up at Bumblebee. His guardian, his friend, his…God, was there even a word? Sam smiled, feeling a warm wetness building behind his eyes. They did not even have to say it-Sam just moved, resting up against Bumblebee’s thigh as Bumblebee’s hand came back around to support him. Sam laid his palm flat against the bright yellow metal, sighing heavily at the wonderful feel of it.
“You look tired,” Bumblebee murmured, stroking a thumb across Sam’s back.
“I had a rough night. Couldn’t sleep,” Sam replied.
“Do you want to go back inside?”
Sam shook his head. Work could wait. After all, he had all the time in the world. No, he much preferred to stay like this, cushioned on grass and resting up against his partner, both watching the freighters move the world along as they glided across the pale blue water.
“Nah,” Sam said. “Let’s stay here for a bit. The sun feels good.”
8888
END
Thanks for reading!
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related characters therein do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Several years into the future, the war between Autobots and Decepticons continues. Through it all, life goes on, and Sam is keeping a secret.
Author's Note: The second half of part three, if that makes any sense. ^_^;; And, thus, the end.
Part I
Part II
Part IIIa
Astonishing, really, how fast Optimus could move. Sam dug his face into the ground, relishing the tremors of Optimus’ approaching steps; they were heavy, quick-he was running. And judging by the very faint echo, barely out of sync with Optimus’ step, he was just keeping ahead of Bumblebee. Shit, Sam thought, though he might have believed he said it aloud, judging by the way bloody saliva sprayed out the side of his mouth with the effort of talking. He did not want Bumblebee here. The throbbing pain returned, squeezing the arches of his ribs, and he twitched under it even as he reached for Optimus when the Autobot leader came up next to him and knelt.
“Sam!” Bumblebee shouted, reaching for his charge but was stopped as Optimus placed his own hand gently over Sam’s body.
“Colonel,” Optimus said, drawing Will’s attention upwards. Optimus’s gaze was serious, the light of his optics cold and serious. “Have you ever skinned an animal?”
Covered as he was by the gentle touch of Optimus’ fingers, eased slightly by the slight current of energy running through them and relaxing tensed muscles, Sam wished he could have seen Will’s face.
“What?” Will asked, clearly stunned. “I mean, I used to help my dad skin rabbits and deer when I was little and he took me hunting, but what-“
“Have you any mental reservations about performing the same task on a human cadaver?”
Scratch the previous statement. Sam wanted to see Will’s face at that. And everyone else’s, as well, judging by the silence that had fallen over the gathered soldiers and Autobots. He would have laughed, had the webbing pain not stretched itself deeper into bones and tissue. Sam whimpered, and Optimus fingers curled more tightly around him, forming a protective embrace before gently picking him up and holding him close to red metal chest plates.
“Optimus, please. I need the water…” Sam said, reaching out to try and run a hand along the glass, but his lack of coordination with it only caused him to scrape his knuckles, the gloves doing little to protect him at this point.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” Optimus murmured. “I got you, boy. Sideswipe, evacuate the immediate area. Now. Will, take the rest of the soldiers and find the local morgue. I need two human cadavers, preferably John Does but if not, make sure they are listed as organ donors. They do not have to be completely intact, and you have the authority to remove the needed bodies.”
Sam knew Will had to be confused, had to be hesitant and unwilling, but the situation left him little other choice than to trust in Optimus and follow orders. The soldiers present followed the command, scattering back to those vehicles that had been undamaged in the Decepticon attack.
“Bumblebee, go with them,” Optimus said, already starting to move back towards the Bridge.
“No,” Bumblebee replied. “I’m staying with Sam.”
“That’s an order, Bumblebee.”
“One I will have to disobey, sir,” Bumblebee said, tone just as forceful and entirely unrepentant. Optimus was going to argue, was ready to use force, but Sam writhed in Optimus’ grip, making the decision for him. There was not enough time.
“Then stay out of the way,” Optimus conceded, angry but unable to do anything about it for the moment. Sam folded in on himself again, the throbbing having changed to a sensation of millions upon millions of fire ants, biting and eating him from the inside out. Water, he needed water-and he could not stop the cry of sheer relief as Optimus set him down on the pebbly shoreline, the tiny waves lipping at his finger tips. It was so wonderfully, excrutiatingly cold. It gave him the strength, the incentive to crawl to his hands and knees and push himself toward the water.
Only to be stopped by the large, heavy hand of Bumblebee coming down in front of him.
“Sam, please, what’s wrong?” Bumblebee’s fingers curled, ready to pluck him from the icy waters, but Sam’s cry of distress stopped him. Sam draped himself across Bumblebee’s forefinger, using it to rest a moment.
“Bumblebee, stop,” he rasped, trying to give Bumblebee a reassuring pat but failing. “You don’t understand. The All Spark-“
Oh, God…it hurt. Anything to make it stop. Anything.
“What about the All Spark?”
“When…when I destroyed Megatron, it left residual energy. It, it kills me, Bumblebee.”
Sam could practically feel the alarm, hear the flow of energy spike through Bumblebee’s energon lines as warnings flashed in panic.
“It’s killing you!?” Bumblebee exclaimed, grip tightening to what would be painful levels, had pain not already enveloped Sam’s mind, crowding his thoughts. Sam shook his head.
“No, it kills me. Once a year. And I need the water, Bumblebee, to make it easier. I’ll be all right, trust me. Please, let me go.”
“Sam, I can’t-“
“Optimus!” Sam screamed, desperate and sobbing for it. “Make him let go.”
Almost instantly, Optimus was there, pulling Bumblebee away and prying his grip off of Sam. Finally free, Sam crawled into the Straits of Mackinac, muscles weakening with each movement as they dissolved underneath his skin. The alloy stretching its way through him was heavy, made him sink, kept him moving across the rocky bottom. His lungs did not even burn with the need for air. Through the cold water, Sam could hear the crush of metal as Bumblebee struggled against Optimus’ hold, heard the Cybertronian curses being spat at the Autobot leader.
Ah, the cold felt good. Its numbness spread, familiar, into his bones, traveling through the alloy webbing that made up his hands. He was hanging on by a mere thread, Sam knew. And it was easy to let go. He did not feel his heart stop-he did not have to. He knew it the moment he heard Bumblebee scream, and scream endlessly, voice garbled by the rushing water around Sam’s ears.
It’s okay, Bumblebee, Sam thought as a warm netting closed in around his mind, so comforting, a caterpillar’s cocoon that blocked out the rest of the world. His mind faded, closed off and folded inwards, like a neatly pressed blanket that was fresh from the dryer. I’ll be right back.
8888
By all accounts, the day was lovely. Full sunshine, with just enough warmth to stave off an uncomfortable chill, leaving the air crisp and fresh. The sky was blue, blue as only an autumn sky can achieve, skirted by the brilliant colors of changing leaves that drifted lazily down from tree branches. Even the grass was still soft and green. If the South was unmatched for the spring season, then autumn most assuredly belonged to the North. The smell of apples seemed to linger on the breeze itself.
Bumblebee sat in the sunshine, high on a hill that overlooked the Soo locks. The water glittered in the light, the glare almost too bright, and the ships moved steadily, slowly, in and out. He watched the freighters make their sluggish way into position, keeping his attention focused on them and not looking up when small footsteps padded their way through the grass towards him. Going barefoot was probably a little childish, Sam knew, and already he had endured some teasing from Will and the other soldiers, but it was the last day of the year to go barefoot and he was not about to waste it. And the ground was still faintly warm, soothing on newly formed skin, the grass pressing between his toes like the softest carpet ever made.
Sam sat next to Bumblebee, cross-legged, and leaned back to brace his weight on unbandaged, completely whole hands. Sam imagined he could feel the weight of Bumblebee’s scanners rest on his hands, penetrating deeply. He decided to remain quiet, and let Bumblebee speak first. Sam owed his guardian that much.
“Optimus tried to tell me what this was all about,” Bumblebee said at length, pointedly not looking at Sam. “But I would not let him. I wanted to hear it from you.”
He was angry, had every right to be, and Sam sighed with regret. Whenever he had decided to tell Bumblebee the truth about his ‘illness,’ he had certainly never planned for it to be this way.
“Bumblebee, are you sure you want-“
“I watched Optimus pull you out of the water, Sam,” Bumblebee interrupted, finally turning his head to look down at his friend. “And I didn’t even believe it was you, a mess of metal and tissue, hanging from you like torn ribbons as though you had been sent through a shredder. Even most of your face was gone, the lower half of your skull missing. The only thing holding you together was this…web. I watched Will and Optimus skin two human bodies, remove their organs and stuff them into you, then place the skin over you like a blanket. I watched you die, Sam, and a day later you are up and walking around, as new as can be. And you ask me if I want to know what happened.”
Sam looked down, avoiding Bumblebee’s penetrating stare and instead concentrating on the last of the summer’s insects make their way through the grass blades. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to tell the story he had before only told himself, in silence.
“The first time this happened, it was about a year after the Mission City battle. Well, really, it was a couple weeks after, when I noticed that my hands were hurting, itching. At first I thought it was an allergy, or a tendon strain or whatever, but it kept getting worse. You didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, so I wasn’t too worried. But it began to hurt more, and every time I scratched at it, I would start to bleed. When we visited the new base, I talked to Ratchet about it. He didn’t know what was causing it, but as time went on and my hands started to deteriorate, we figured it was due to me handling the All Spark. Some reaction with organic life forms, or something.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you just yet, and soon my hands stopped deteriorating-they just stayed like they were. Ratchet was working on a way to get them back to normal, so I just kept it to myself. About a year after that, you were sent on a mission to welcome a new arrival, who landed in upstate New York.”
“Yes, I remember. It was Prowl.”
Sam nodded, and opened his mouth to continue, but he still could not raise his gaze to meet Bumblebee’s.
“While you were gone, Optimus acted as my guardian, and I stayed at the base with him. Ratchet told him about my hands, and we decided to go to the old Sector Seven base at the Hoover Dam, to see if they had any records or information on similar occurrences with their researchers. While we were there, well…it was pretty much like what happened yesterday. All of a sudden, the pain I had felt in my hands started to spread, to all over, and it made me panic. I think it scared Optimus half to death-he didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know what to do, and we were alone. I don’t really remember a whole of it, but I do remember trying to get to the water, trying to jump into Lake Mead. Everything’s just…blank, after that. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in Ratchet’s medbay, pain gone and hands completely healed.
“The nearest we can figure, when I destroyed the All Spark, it started to try and create a new body-I mean, that’s what it did, whenever its energy was focused. I caught the backlash of it, and…I don’t have any part of the All Spark in me, but some of its creative energy is caught in me, like a program that keeps looping. And it keeps trying to make a new body. It starts with my hands, since that was the point of contact, and it replaces my tissues and bones with an alloy. It doesn’t work, of course, my body keeps rejecting it. The energy spreads, trying to compensate for organic life, and when it doesn’t work, it just…deletes it and starts all over again. It creates a new organic body for me to try again, trying a new method every time.”
“What about the bodies?” Bumblebee questioned, voice no longer angry, but Sam was hard pressed to identify any one emotion within it. Sam sighed heavily, feeling his shoulders slump with weight.
“The bodies,” Sam murmured. “Well, as I said, the All Spark energy creates a new organic body for me so it can start the process over. But it got rid of all my other tissues, and it’s impossible to create or destroy matter. It can just be changed. The energy needed a new source of skin and organs. I don’t remember any of it, but Ratchet told me. He was working with a human doctor, to learn more about Earth medicine and human physiology. A Dr. Richard Williams. They were both there when Optimus brought me back, already dead. I imagine I looked horrifying, but Dr. Williams and Ratchet both agreed to do as best an autopsy as they could, to determine exactly what the All Spark energy did to me. Ratchet went to gather some tools while Dr. Williams came up next to me to get a closer look.
“Apparently, according to Ratchet, at that moment I just…sat up. I grabbed him and…” Sam stopped, taking a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. “Ratchet said I started peeling his skin off like I was peeling a banana. I snapped his bones in half to get at the marrow and eat it, ripped the organs out and unfolded them to get a closer look. Stretched his muscles over my own form, placed his eyes into my own sockets. Tried to put his skin on like a coat. Poor Ratchet. He had no clue as to what was happening and he had to watch as I ripped this man apart. Then, I guess I just stopped. Collapsed, and Ratchet said I began to reform, most of Dr. Williams’ parts reshaping to become my own. And then about eight hours later, I woke up, completely fine with no memory past Lake Mead.”
Here, Sam dared a look up at Bumblebee, dreading what he would see but instead only found Bumblebee’s expression unreadable. Sam continued talking.
“Each human cell has, within it, DNA. It is the blueprint for our bodies, which proteins to synthesize and when. We think that the All Spark energy read my DNA, RNA…the entire layout of the cells and stored that information. When I receive the new parts from someone else, the energy reconfigures the DNA present to match my own genetic information. Those parts become my own. The All Spark energy then sets those cells to dividing, and when there’s not enough, believe it or not, it uses the adult stem cells to create new ones.
“Don’t worry about me going all angsty on the whole ‘it’s not really me,’ and ‘I’m not human’ drama spiel. I already went through all that with Optimus nine years ago, and I’m over it. I know I’m still Sam. It’s still me,” Sam repeated, softly. He leaned forwards, shifting his balance and bringing complete, unmarked hands into his lap. He flexed his fingers, each movement precise, controlled, and felt. “It’s more me than perhaps I was before.”
Sam jumped as he felt a weight settle behind him, lightly, across his spine. Bumblebee’s hand curled around him, the metal warm from sitting out in the sun.
“You said that stem cells-“
Sam shook his head, cutting Bumblebee off.
“No, we tried it. We tried to give the All Spark energy just stem cells to use and reformat, but it didn’t work. I need a full body donor. We try our best to be respectful to the person’s family, though, if they had one, and give them something to bury or scatter. And it doesn’t matter if the person is male or female, old or young-whoever it is becomes me, and they cease to exist.”
“And if there’s no donor available?”
“Don’t know. I’d either go looking for one or just be kept in stasis until one came near enough for me to seize-Ratchet and I aren’t too eager to find out. I’m just grateful it wasn’t Mikaela helping Ratchet out that day,” Sam mused, bringing his legs up to wrap his arms around them. He rested his chin on his knees, watching the boats go sailing by. One of Bumblebee’s fingers curled around his arms, pressing gently in as though he were trying to convince himself of the feel. That Sam was was not about to disappear. Another finger dipped low under his hip, shifting slightly while Bumblebee contemplated whether or not to pick Sam up.
“Are you mad at me?” Sam asked quietly, squeezing tighter in on himself. He had really not mean for Bumblebee to find out this way, if at all. So much could change, and Bumblebee was the one thing he was not sure he could handle losing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bumblebee questioned in turn, and Sam felt himself wither. This was the question he had been avoiding for going on ten years-all that time, all those sleepless nights trying to come up with a response, and still he had not been able to form a satisfactory answer. Even then, it was not likely Bumblebee would accept any response, no matter how reasonable.
“I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” Sam answered at length.
Bumblebee pulled away, not confident that his grip could keep from becoming too tight.
“Do you think so little of me, Sam?”
Sam winced. Bumblebee was not angry. Worse. He was hurt. Disappointed. Damn it. This was exactly what he did not want.
“It’s not that, Bumblebee, it’s just…it seemed better if no one knew. Everyone could keep their normal lives and…”
“And so you could, too?” Bumblebee finished for Sam. Sam dipped his head, barely looking over the tops of his knees and focusing on the water moving through the Locks. Even so far from the next Recycling period, the sight of the water soothed him. Eased the guilt that was tugging at him. Bumblebee was right, and Sam knew he was being selfish-had been selfish for ten years. He had been hiding, but not from everyone else, as he had tried to convince himself.
“I’m not mad at you, Sam,” Bumblebee said, answering Sam’s earlier question. “Just angry that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me. I don’t want to feel like such a failure to you again. Ever.”
And forever Sam added silently, looking up at Bumblebee. His guardian, his friend, his…God, was there even a word? Sam smiled, feeling a warm wetness building behind his eyes. They did not even have to say it-Sam just moved, resting up against Bumblebee’s thigh as Bumblebee’s hand came back around to support him. Sam laid his palm flat against the bright yellow metal, sighing heavily at the wonderful feel of it.
“You look tired,” Bumblebee murmured, stroking a thumb across Sam’s back.
“I had a rough night. Couldn’t sleep,” Sam replied.
“Do you want to go back inside?”
Sam shook his head. Work could wait. After all, he had all the time in the world. No, he much preferred to stay like this, cushioned on grass and resting up against his partner, both watching the freighters move the world along as they glided across the pale blue water.
“Nah,” Sam said. “Let’s stay here for a bit. The sun feels good.”
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END
Thanks for reading!