Hi! First time poster with fic:
Hi I'm Yuuzai.
Long time lurker first time poster.
I love this community so I figure this would be an appropiate way to show it!
This has been beta'd but nobody's perfect.
Comments and Critiques are welcomed and encouraged.
Title: Sparks (working title)
Pairing BeexSam (with others developing)
Rating PG-13 for now, but it will most likely change.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
A:N This is something I've been working on for a bit, and I realized it bears some elements of snowflakespeech's plot bunny. So I've finally decided to post here. Please take a look and tell me what you think. Thanks!
Summary: As with life, not everything is going to go the way you want it to. Not every one is just going to lay down and die. For the Auobots and their companions this lesson is just beginning.
An AU with mature themes and oft ignored characters.
Burnt Out
1
Blood pounded in his ears, Samuel James Witwicky gritted his teeth and lifted the cube of metal towards the robotic creature looming over him. Energy crackled along his palms, making him wince. Still he held on, shoving it toward the glowing cavity within Megatron’s chest. Determined brown eyes focused hard on the brilliant glow emanating from the Decepticon towering over him.
As the damned spark burned between his fingers, its very pulse matching the beat of his heart, he was only faintly aware of silvered claws reaching towards him. As the sharpened digits descended they eclipsed all light. In those precious seconds he didn’t even have a chance to scream.
The leader of the Decepticons rose, inspecting his dripping claws coated in the human’s blood. A foolish effort from one so small, it was a pity really he would have made the most amusing pet. A cruel chuckle echoed across the ravaged street, soon to become a testament to the victory of the Decepticons. The red splattered appendage moved again, reaching for the Allspark cradled to the boy’s chest. His haste proved to be his undoing, for the instant he touched the broken body Optimus Prime intervened.
The wicked blade protruding from his arm caught Megatron as he turned, carving away the silver metal from his chest. It stopped, just before the vulnerable spark cavity in his frame. A movement from either Mech would bring him that much closer to permanent off-lining.
"Freedom is not the only right of sentient beings. Take your forces and go. Your actions here may have doomed us all, brother."
Hauling his sword from the sparking chest Optimus drew back, the Energon coating the blade confirmed the damage. The Decepticon would live, but he would not be combat ready for a few orns at the least. Snarling momentarily defeated, the previously trapped mech shifted into his alt mode and fled leaving the shattered wreckage in his wake.
Turning from his once revered leader, the Autobot knelt to examine the tiny body lying in the street. Broken and battered Sam barely moved as the massive shadow fell over him. Optimus was exceedingly careful as he reached for the bloodstained boy.
Carefully lifting the limp body, he cradled him in his hands, cursory scans identifying the worst of the injuries. The resulting data nearly snapped him into stasis lock. He had broken bones, multiple lacerations and second-degree burns. The worst wound by far was the glittering Allspark just beneath his folded arms imbedded in his chest. Curling his fingers over the fading youth Prime moved calling to Ratchet. It was painfully obvious the possible outcomes to the precarious situation. He muttered a prayer to Primus calculating any other solutions, even so, precious few could result in the boy’s survival.
1
Mikaela cut the engine on the tow truck once the sound of gunfire and explosions stopped. Peeking through the windshield she convinced herself it was finally safe. Sparing a glance back at her passenger she slipped from the cab and looked around. Bumblebee shifted as best he could, still suspended by the crane
"Pit slagging…" Ironhide began, raising his cannons, "They’re running!"
The gruff voice caught her by surprise and she bolted for the quasi-safety of the yellow mech. His observation, she realized huddling against the transformed Camaro, held more anger than confusion. Taking aim at the tank known as Devastator, he charged the extended cannons. Unfortunately for the home team, he was briefly surprised by the massive figure of Blackout nearly dropping down on him. A sudden kick to his frame and he rocked backward scrabbling at the much abused building for support. Dust and debris rained down on the street as the Deceptions made a less than dignified or honorable retreat.
With the opportunity wasted he swore viscously in his native tongue. Retracting his beloved weapons he turned to his filthy companions. Bumblebee moved slowly, bits of glass and concrete dropping from his chassis. Lying there squashed against his chest, protected from the debris lay the tiny human who had been responsible for their timely support. To be truthful, from what he’d seen she wasn’t a bad driver.
"Are you damaged?"
"I’m fine." she admitted after a cursory check. Flicking hair from her face, Mikaela slid down Bumblebee’s armature. The resulting shudder earned another look from the weapons specialist. The girl didn’t seem to notice they had bigger problems to worry about. Another scan confirmed the complete lack of Deceptions and the even worse glaring lack of the First Lieutenant. Sidelining those particular feelings for a more opportune moment he took a defensive position. Ratchet suddenly appeared from the dust, moving to meet them. With a long-suffering sigh, he moved to check on the grounded mech. The once-again injured scout lowered his optics as the CMO silently reattached his limbs. Confused, he signaled the medic inquiring of the status of the rest of their team.
Brushing aside the inquisitive signal the "emergency vehicle" focused on repairing the battle inflicted damage as fast and efficiently as he could. As the telltale splatter of energon covered his hands however, he realized he’d clenched them to keep them from shaking. His instability went unnoticed by his kind and humans alike as Will Lennox tore across the mangled street. His team moved with him, weapons raised, scanning the darkened streets and sky. The reason was soon terribly clear as Optimus Prime; battle scarred, but online, traversed the cracked pavement. Head bowed towards his outstretched hands, he moved with deliberate care.
Ratchet was on his feet faster than even he believed possible, moving to meet his commander. In his hands lay the last holder of the All Spark, motionless and damaged.
Samuel Witwicky.
One look from those optics and he scanned the still figure, waiting for Optimus to speak.
"Can you save him?"
His voice crackled from his Audio processors, tinged with fear and worry. It wasn’t an order, but a request and another scan confirmed his reasoning. The boy was close to death, any mistake or hesitation on their part would kill him for sure. As a leader Optimus Prime knew how and when to make sacrifices, but by the pit, he’d do anything to make sure Samuel wasn’t one of them.
Out there, in the open removing the All Spark would be the proverbial final nail for the boy. To be honest the medical officer wasn’t even sure he could do it. With the gaping chest wound, the boy was loosing oxygen fast and once deprived he wouldn’t recover at all. Blood from his limp arms splattered on the pavement far below. Shaking his head Ratchet finally answered.
"No, I cannot, but I can get him to someone who can."
Mikaela watched as Ratchet shifted back into his alternate mode lights flashing.
Optimus Prime went down on bended knee allowing the remaining rangers to load the dying boy into the back of the idling Hummer. Shaking the human girl clung to the robotic alien by her side; Ironhide didn’t seem to mind, touching her back in an attempted affectionate gesture. Struggling to rise, Bumblebee could only watch as his brothers attempted to save the only thing he’d been assigned to protect. Remorse washed over him, chilling him to the very spark.
As his sirens wailed Ratchet accelerated over the burnt and blacked pavement carrying away the human. Bumblebee the produced the most mournful dejected sound and creature in his position could ever make. While the remaining humans scrambled from the shattering glass and covered their injured ears, all others present could understand the cry for what it was.
"A Name."
"Sam."
It had to have been the weirdest emergency situation any of the doctors at any Mission City General Hospital had ever faced. Every time they attempted to stabilize the young man, their equipment went haywire. They couldn’t be sure of the unusual circumstances surrounding his injuries, but they were certainly wondering. It wasn’t everyday a boy came in with a cube of metal imbedded in his chest.
On all accounts the young man, Sam shouldn’t have even been alive. It was unbelievable he’d even made it to the facility. With perforated lungs, shredded veins and massive trauma it was rather unlikely he’d survive no matter what they did, but that didn’t mean they were going to give up on him. He was a defiantly a fighter, anyone could tell he was.
Three times they’d spoken with the man who’d brought him. A Mr. William Lennox. Obviously injured himself, Lennox refused treatment, worrying over his charge instead. Every time he’d taken their news and asked if Sam would live. The last time he’d been taking to a sullen young woman on the verge of tears. She’d fled at the sight of their bloodied white coats, and as far as they knew hadn’t returned. It had had been confirmed at that point, Sam’s parents were on their way. Disheartened they team continued, no one ever liked telling a parent their child had died.
Not that any one of them knew how to begin.
His arms required stitches, his lungs needed patching and they absolutely had to do something about the chunk of metal entombed in his chest cavity. X-rays were out of the question and the possibility of infection doubled by the second. To survive that young man, was going to need a miracle or two.
1
Everything hurt, he felt awful. It was like Megatron had pounded on his skull. As a hazy memory drifted back to him, he realized that yeah, he kinda had. He was too dazed to criticize himself. Actually he was too tired to do a lot of things. Everything seemed to sway before his eyes and as the life was drifting out of him. Struggling to focus on something anything but the pain, the lights above him blazed in their intensity until they were all he could see.
It hurt, everything hurt. It all just hurt so much.
1
Outside in the eerily pleasant dusk, Mikaela sagged against a nearby truck. Clenching her fists, she finally broke down and cried. Pounding her fists uselessly against the black frame, she screamed once before sagging to her knees. Ironhide to his credit, didn’t move didn’t speak. She obviously needed nothing more than to vent her frustration. He would have preferred, however for her take her vengeance out on something else. Much as he would have done on the Decepticons, had they not run.
Closer to the street, Optimus Prime was very much lost to his thoughts. A pang of guilt flickered through him lodging in his core before blooming into regret. This indeed had been his responsibility, He’d known what he’d had to do, but now it was too late and another was dying in his place. Worse yet the War wasn’t over.
Was one life, worth it?
Had Sam’s life been worth it?
His self directed thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the squeal of tires and frantic screams. Mikaela stood suddenly as Ironhide blew his horn. Turning she found the sight of the yellow Camaro. It was a temporary balm on her wounded heart. Speeding over the grass, he pulled up short before her, doors snapping open. Spilling out into the pavement, were the disheveled figures of Ronald and Judy Witwicky, Sam’s parents.
Helping them to their feet, she all but dragged them towards the building. There wasn’t really time for explanations, but they had to know how. They had to know why. He could already be. There had been so much blood. Sparing a glance to the solemn Autobots, she managed a reassuring smile. Holding tightly to their hands. She crossed the threshold and began,
The slamming of his doors echoed hollowly in the lot. Bumblebee didn’t care. He didn’t feel like moving from where he’d parked. Taking up almost two spaces, he sat across the median from his comrades in self-imposed exile. He almost expected Optimus to say something, anything. He would have welcomed a reprimand, but none came. Their leader disguised in the impressive form of a Peterbilt Truck said nothing. The infernal silence stretched on, leaving the young Autobot to his own devices. Berating himself for his inability protects his own Bumblebee wished desperately for the boy to live.
If only….
The scout turned his attention to the building and settled on his wheels to wait.
1
"Am I dying?" None answered him not that he expected anyone to. Not that he expected much; the endless pain seemed to fade a bit more, as the brilliant glow pulsed before him. "I must be dying." At that acceptance, time seemed to slow and everything else began to fade. His rapidly diminishing consciousness however chose to object.
"Wait I can’t go yet. This can’t be over. What about my family, what about my friends: what about my life? I can’t die. I’ve still got things to do."
Their war wasn’t over and he was still apart of it.
"I can’t die. I really don’t want to die."
The light seemed to explode before him as a faint touch brushed his scrabbling mind.
Clinging to it like a lifeline, he forced open his eyes.
Pain flared to the forefront of his mind and feeling. It was a pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The heavy weight on his chest shifted forcing a pained gasp from his throat. Between his chapped lips, the tube supposedly aiding his breathing became more of a hindrance than anything else. Blearily he struggled to focus on something, anything but the pain.
Crackling energy crossed the twitching body, halting everyone present in their tracks. The attached machines wailed painfully, and the boy jerked on the table. Writhing uncontrollably, he tore loose the electrodes and equipment attached to him. The rhythmic chirping of the heart monitor as per its programming settled into an ear-piercing whine.
As someone reached for the boy, a bolt of lighting struck, knocking him to the floor. Someone screamed, and all hell finally broke loose.
The unpredictable sparks, forced the medical staff present back from the table.
With each passing flicker they could only watch in horror as the glowing cube sunk deeper into the wound and cracked open. Segments of the cube popped, slid and groaned sliding against one another as it rearranging its outer shapes. The pieces moved under invisible hands realigning themselves, compressing, stretching to fit in the exposed cavity of the boy’s chest.
They each stood in sheer awe as the former points smoothed curling over pink flesh.
The flickering light and the once solid metal flowed like water over him, in him, it cascading over his body bathing the room in a brilliant blue glow. Then just as suddenly as it had begun it stopped. Sam flopped limply against the table, steam rising from his skin. Stunned into silence they cautiously approached.
When nothing else occurred, they hurriedly turned their attention to the apparently unexplainable situation before them. Sam however seemed no worse for wear. Aside from the appearance of blackened lines and symbols along his torso the skin was undamaged. Moving closer they examined the silvered flesh. Cool to the touch, it was just like the rest of him. Checking for breathing, the found nothing, nothing at all. What had appeared to a miracle was turning into a nightmare. Looking over the unmoving boy, no one had any answers and none seemed forthcoming, he seemed fine, but they knew better. The entire room was silent, as a single man reached for the boy’s hand.
His lips thinned, he looked towards the clock and in that instant time seemed to slow.
"Time of death."
Long time lurker first time poster.
I love this community so I figure this would be an appropiate way to show it!
This has been beta'd but nobody's perfect.
Comments and Critiques are welcomed and encouraged.
Title: Sparks (working title)
Pairing BeexSam (with others developing)
Rating PG-13 for now, but it will most likely change.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
A:N This is something I've been working on for a bit, and I realized it bears some elements of snowflakespeech's plot bunny. So I've finally decided to post here. Please take a look and tell me what you think. Thanks!
Summary: As with life, not everything is going to go the way you want it to. Not every one is just going to lay down and die. For the Auobots and their companions this lesson is just beginning.
An AU with mature themes and oft ignored characters.
Burnt Out
1
Blood pounded in his ears, Samuel James Witwicky gritted his teeth and lifted the cube of metal towards the robotic creature looming over him. Energy crackled along his palms, making him wince. Still he held on, shoving it toward the glowing cavity within Megatron’s chest. Determined brown eyes focused hard on the brilliant glow emanating from the Decepticon towering over him.
As the damned spark burned between his fingers, its very pulse matching the beat of his heart, he was only faintly aware of silvered claws reaching towards him. As the sharpened digits descended they eclipsed all light. In those precious seconds he didn’t even have a chance to scream.
The leader of the Decepticons rose, inspecting his dripping claws coated in the human’s blood. A foolish effort from one so small, it was a pity really he would have made the most amusing pet. A cruel chuckle echoed across the ravaged street, soon to become a testament to the victory of the Decepticons. The red splattered appendage moved again, reaching for the Allspark cradled to the boy’s chest. His haste proved to be his undoing, for the instant he touched the broken body Optimus Prime intervened.
The wicked blade protruding from his arm caught Megatron as he turned, carving away the silver metal from his chest. It stopped, just before the vulnerable spark cavity in his frame. A movement from either Mech would bring him that much closer to permanent off-lining.
"Freedom is not the only right of sentient beings. Take your forces and go. Your actions here may have doomed us all, brother."
Hauling his sword from the sparking chest Optimus drew back, the Energon coating the blade confirmed the damage. The Decepticon would live, but he would not be combat ready for a few orns at the least. Snarling momentarily defeated, the previously trapped mech shifted into his alt mode and fled leaving the shattered wreckage in his wake.
Turning from his once revered leader, the Autobot knelt to examine the tiny body lying in the street. Broken and battered Sam barely moved as the massive shadow fell over him. Optimus was exceedingly careful as he reached for the bloodstained boy.
Carefully lifting the limp body, he cradled him in his hands, cursory scans identifying the worst of the injuries. The resulting data nearly snapped him into stasis lock. He had broken bones, multiple lacerations and second-degree burns. The worst wound by far was the glittering Allspark just beneath his folded arms imbedded in his chest. Curling his fingers over the fading youth Prime moved calling to Ratchet. It was painfully obvious the possible outcomes to the precarious situation. He muttered a prayer to Primus calculating any other solutions, even so, precious few could result in the boy’s survival.
1
Mikaela cut the engine on the tow truck once the sound of gunfire and explosions stopped. Peeking through the windshield she convinced herself it was finally safe. Sparing a glance back at her passenger she slipped from the cab and looked around. Bumblebee shifted as best he could, still suspended by the crane
"Pit slagging…" Ironhide began, raising his cannons, "They’re running!"
The gruff voice caught her by surprise and she bolted for the quasi-safety of the yellow mech. His observation, she realized huddling against the transformed Camaro, held more anger than confusion. Taking aim at the tank known as Devastator, he charged the extended cannons. Unfortunately for the home team, he was briefly surprised by the massive figure of Blackout nearly dropping down on him. A sudden kick to his frame and he rocked backward scrabbling at the much abused building for support. Dust and debris rained down on the street as the Deceptions made a less than dignified or honorable retreat.
With the opportunity wasted he swore viscously in his native tongue. Retracting his beloved weapons he turned to his filthy companions. Bumblebee moved slowly, bits of glass and concrete dropping from his chassis. Lying there squashed against his chest, protected from the debris lay the tiny human who had been responsible for their timely support. To be truthful, from what he’d seen she wasn’t a bad driver.
"Are you damaged?"
"I’m fine." she admitted after a cursory check. Flicking hair from her face, Mikaela slid down Bumblebee’s armature. The resulting shudder earned another look from the weapons specialist. The girl didn’t seem to notice they had bigger problems to worry about. Another scan confirmed the complete lack of Deceptions and the even worse glaring lack of the First Lieutenant. Sidelining those particular feelings for a more opportune moment he took a defensive position. Ratchet suddenly appeared from the dust, moving to meet them. With a long-suffering sigh, he moved to check on the grounded mech. The once-again injured scout lowered his optics as the CMO silently reattached his limbs. Confused, he signaled the medic inquiring of the status of the rest of their team.
Brushing aside the inquisitive signal the "emergency vehicle" focused on repairing the battle inflicted damage as fast and efficiently as he could. As the telltale splatter of energon covered his hands however, he realized he’d clenched them to keep them from shaking. His instability went unnoticed by his kind and humans alike as Will Lennox tore across the mangled street. His team moved with him, weapons raised, scanning the darkened streets and sky. The reason was soon terribly clear as Optimus Prime; battle scarred, but online, traversed the cracked pavement. Head bowed towards his outstretched hands, he moved with deliberate care.
Ratchet was on his feet faster than even he believed possible, moving to meet his commander. In his hands lay the last holder of the All Spark, motionless and damaged.
Samuel Witwicky.
One look from those optics and he scanned the still figure, waiting for Optimus to speak.
"Can you save him?"
His voice crackled from his Audio processors, tinged with fear and worry. It wasn’t an order, but a request and another scan confirmed his reasoning. The boy was close to death, any mistake or hesitation on their part would kill him for sure. As a leader Optimus Prime knew how and when to make sacrifices, but by the pit, he’d do anything to make sure Samuel wasn’t one of them.
Out there, in the open removing the All Spark would be the proverbial final nail for the boy. To be honest the medical officer wasn’t even sure he could do it. With the gaping chest wound, the boy was loosing oxygen fast and once deprived he wouldn’t recover at all. Blood from his limp arms splattered on the pavement far below. Shaking his head Ratchet finally answered.
"No, I cannot, but I can get him to someone who can."
Mikaela watched as Ratchet shifted back into his alternate mode lights flashing.
Optimus Prime went down on bended knee allowing the remaining rangers to load the dying boy into the back of the idling Hummer. Shaking the human girl clung to the robotic alien by her side; Ironhide didn’t seem to mind, touching her back in an attempted affectionate gesture. Struggling to rise, Bumblebee could only watch as his brothers attempted to save the only thing he’d been assigned to protect. Remorse washed over him, chilling him to the very spark.
As his sirens wailed Ratchet accelerated over the burnt and blacked pavement carrying away the human. Bumblebee the produced the most mournful dejected sound and creature in his position could ever make. While the remaining humans scrambled from the shattering glass and covered their injured ears, all others present could understand the cry for what it was.
"A Name."
"Sam."
It had to have been the weirdest emergency situation any of the doctors at any Mission City General Hospital had ever faced. Every time they attempted to stabilize the young man, their equipment went haywire. They couldn’t be sure of the unusual circumstances surrounding his injuries, but they were certainly wondering. It wasn’t everyday a boy came in with a cube of metal imbedded in his chest.
On all accounts the young man, Sam shouldn’t have even been alive. It was unbelievable he’d even made it to the facility. With perforated lungs, shredded veins and massive trauma it was rather unlikely he’d survive no matter what they did, but that didn’t mean they were going to give up on him. He was a defiantly a fighter, anyone could tell he was.
Three times they’d spoken with the man who’d brought him. A Mr. William Lennox. Obviously injured himself, Lennox refused treatment, worrying over his charge instead. Every time he’d taken their news and asked if Sam would live. The last time he’d been taking to a sullen young woman on the verge of tears. She’d fled at the sight of their bloodied white coats, and as far as they knew hadn’t returned. It had had been confirmed at that point, Sam’s parents were on their way. Disheartened they team continued, no one ever liked telling a parent their child had died.
Not that any one of them knew how to begin.
His arms required stitches, his lungs needed patching and they absolutely had to do something about the chunk of metal entombed in his chest cavity. X-rays were out of the question and the possibility of infection doubled by the second. To survive that young man, was going to need a miracle or two.
1
Everything hurt, he felt awful. It was like Megatron had pounded on his skull. As a hazy memory drifted back to him, he realized that yeah, he kinda had. He was too dazed to criticize himself. Actually he was too tired to do a lot of things. Everything seemed to sway before his eyes and as the life was drifting out of him. Struggling to focus on something anything but the pain, the lights above him blazed in their intensity until they were all he could see.
It hurt, everything hurt. It all just hurt so much.
1
Outside in the eerily pleasant dusk, Mikaela sagged against a nearby truck. Clenching her fists, she finally broke down and cried. Pounding her fists uselessly against the black frame, she screamed once before sagging to her knees. Ironhide to his credit, didn’t move didn’t speak. She obviously needed nothing more than to vent her frustration. He would have preferred, however for her take her vengeance out on something else. Much as he would have done on the Decepticons, had they not run.
Closer to the street, Optimus Prime was very much lost to his thoughts. A pang of guilt flickered through him lodging in his core before blooming into regret. This indeed had been his responsibility, He’d known what he’d had to do, but now it was too late and another was dying in his place. Worse yet the War wasn’t over.
Was one life, worth it?
Had Sam’s life been worth it?
His self directed thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the squeal of tires and frantic screams. Mikaela stood suddenly as Ironhide blew his horn. Turning she found the sight of the yellow Camaro. It was a temporary balm on her wounded heart. Speeding over the grass, he pulled up short before her, doors snapping open. Spilling out into the pavement, were the disheveled figures of Ronald and Judy Witwicky, Sam’s parents.
Helping them to their feet, she all but dragged them towards the building. There wasn’t really time for explanations, but they had to know how. They had to know why. He could already be. There had been so much blood. Sparing a glance to the solemn Autobots, she managed a reassuring smile. Holding tightly to their hands. She crossed the threshold and began,
The slamming of his doors echoed hollowly in the lot. Bumblebee didn’t care. He didn’t feel like moving from where he’d parked. Taking up almost two spaces, he sat across the median from his comrades in self-imposed exile. He almost expected Optimus to say something, anything. He would have welcomed a reprimand, but none came. Their leader disguised in the impressive form of a Peterbilt Truck said nothing. The infernal silence stretched on, leaving the young Autobot to his own devices. Berating himself for his inability protects his own Bumblebee wished desperately for the boy to live.
If only….
The scout turned his attention to the building and settled on his wheels to wait.
1
"Am I dying?" None answered him not that he expected anyone to. Not that he expected much; the endless pain seemed to fade a bit more, as the brilliant glow pulsed before him. "I must be dying." At that acceptance, time seemed to slow and everything else began to fade. His rapidly diminishing consciousness however chose to object.
"Wait I can’t go yet. This can’t be over. What about my family, what about my friends: what about my life? I can’t die. I’ve still got things to do."
Their war wasn’t over and he was still apart of it.
"I can’t die. I really don’t want to die."
The light seemed to explode before him as a faint touch brushed his scrabbling mind.
Clinging to it like a lifeline, he forced open his eyes.
Pain flared to the forefront of his mind and feeling. It was a pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The heavy weight on his chest shifted forcing a pained gasp from his throat. Between his chapped lips, the tube supposedly aiding his breathing became more of a hindrance than anything else. Blearily he struggled to focus on something, anything but the pain.
Crackling energy crossed the twitching body, halting everyone present in their tracks. The attached machines wailed painfully, and the boy jerked on the table. Writhing uncontrollably, he tore loose the electrodes and equipment attached to him. The rhythmic chirping of the heart monitor as per its programming settled into an ear-piercing whine.
As someone reached for the boy, a bolt of lighting struck, knocking him to the floor. Someone screamed, and all hell finally broke loose.
The unpredictable sparks, forced the medical staff present back from the table.
With each passing flicker they could only watch in horror as the glowing cube sunk deeper into the wound and cracked open. Segments of the cube popped, slid and groaned sliding against one another as it rearranging its outer shapes. The pieces moved under invisible hands realigning themselves, compressing, stretching to fit in the exposed cavity of the boy’s chest.
They each stood in sheer awe as the former points smoothed curling over pink flesh.
The flickering light and the once solid metal flowed like water over him, in him, it cascading over his body bathing the room in a brilliant blue glow. Then just as suddenly as it had begun it stopped. Sam flopped limply against the table, steam rising from his skin. Stunned into silence they cautiously approached.
When nothing else occurred, they hurriedly turned their attention to the apparently unexplainable situation before them. Sam however seemed no worse for wear. Aside from the appearance of blackened lines and symbols along his torso the skin was undamaged. Moving closer they examined the silvered flesh. Cool to the touch, it was just like the rest of him. Checking for breathing, the found nothing, nothing at all. What had appeared to a miracle was turning into a nightmare. Looking over the unmoving boy, no one had any answers and none seemed forthcoming, he seemed fine, but they knew better. The entire room was silent, as a single man reached for the boy’s hand.
His lips thinned, he looked towards the clock and in that instant time seemed to slow.
"Time of death."