[Fic] Mind Erased, Chapter 4 - Transformers
Title: Mind Erased (working title)
Fandom: Transformers, set years after Revenge of the Fallen
Pairing: BeexSam
Rating: Currently PG13 for mild language, may change later
Word Count: 2,512
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers; they are not mine, nor ever will be. The songs belong to their respective owners, as well.
Note: I am not a doctor, so not all things may be accurate, but I tried to be as close as possible. Forgive any errors, please.
Chapter: Four
The first thing Sam noted when he opened his eyes was that the ceiling was smooth and white, with small recessed lighting around the edges. The bed below him was thin and he could feel the metal beneath it. Definitely not his bed. Rolling his eyes to the right he saw curtains hanging around the bed.
He was in a hospital.
His lips were dry and cracked, and he licked to wet them and struggled to push himself up into some semblance of sitting. He found a remote by his hand and pushed the button, which lifted his head. To his left came the steady beeping of monitors; it was a sound he knew too well from his time in the hospital just a month earlier.
Sam was about to call out to his parents when the curtain parted and a man in a white coat slipped in with a clipboard in his hands. He smiled when he saw Sam sitting there.
“Sam. It’s nice to see you awake and sitting. I’m Doctor Haines. How are you feeling?”
Assessing the situation, Sam concentrated and felt no pain. “I feel fine. What am I doing here?”
“Your parents called for an ambulance and had you brought in. You lost consciousness at home.”
“Oh… where are my parents?”
“They’re out in the lobby getting coffee. They’ll be back soon.”
“How long has it been?” Sam wanted to know.
“You’ve been here for about an hour now. You’re a little dehydrated, so we have you on an IV to bring your fluids back up. I have some questions I’d like to ask you, if that’s all right?”
Sam nodded cautiously, not wanting to set off any new pains. “Sure.”
“Your doctor placed you on Imitrex for migraines, correct?”
“Yes. But not at first. I was just taking Excedrin Migraine, but it didn’t help.”
“Okay. How are your sleep habits? And eating? Are you getting enough exercise?”
Sam answered the questions and then came under a new barrage, but answered them as well, to the best he could. He wondered if he should tell the doctor about the visions he saw, but something told him it wouldn’t be a good idea. He refrained, for the moment.
“I don’t see any reason to admit you at this time, Sam. But I am going to switch your medication. Treximet is another migraine medication, but it’s been proven more effective for some over Imitrex. It is not to be taken daily, but can be taken when you feel a migraine coming on. Do you understand?” Sam nodded that he did. “Good. I’ll have that filled for you here. Now, as for exercise, it would be good for you if you did some light cardiovascular exercises. Some migraines can be brought on by stress, and exercise can help alleviate that. This does not mean you should go out and start running a marathon, though.”
Sam barked a short laugh. “Don’t worry about that, not a chance.”
“Good. We’ll see about getting you released shortly. In the mean time, you can just wait here and I’ll get your parents. Do you have any questions?”
He hesitated and stared down at the blanket covering his legs. “This new stuff… will it help a migraine that comes on suddenly?”
“What do you mean by suddenly?”
“When I get them, there’s usually no warning. It just happens and I end up on the floor or the ground.”
Dr. Haines looked at him and jotted a note on his clipboard. “Tell me a little about what happened this time. Your parents told me their version, but I’d like to hear it from your perspective.”
Sam carefully picked his away around some of the details, leaving out the bit about the radio seemingly trying to give him a message - it had seemed that way to him, at least for a moment - and also omitting the bit about the picture of his former car. He did, however, throw in a little about memories starting to slowly come back. But he didn’t tell him what kinds of memories.
“Just fragments,” he said vaguely, when asked. “A sound or a color, and a phrase or two from someone I know. One of my friends. From school.”
“This is fantastic news, Sam. I’m happy to hear your memories are returning. It must be a relief for you.”
“It is,” he admitted.
“I have a word of caution, though. When it happens, just let it run its course. Don’t try to get more out of it than your mind is trying to give you. That could be - I’m not saying it is, but it could be - a reason why your migraines are so intense and frequent. You could be unconsciously trying to get more out of these fragments that your brain is not yet ready to give up.”
“So… what should I do when it happens?”
“Try to relax. Sit down and close your eyes. Don’t focus too hard on the memories, but let it happen. If the pain is intense, take your medication and lay down in a dark, silent room.”
Good advice that Sam was determined to take. “Can you tell my mother that bit about silent? She likes to uh, barge in and check on me.”
The doctor chuckled and nodded. “It’s difficult living at home sometimes, isn’t it? You’re twenty-two?” Sam nodded. “When you get your own place, it’ll be different. But believe it or not, you’ll probably miss your mother’s interference.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I doubt it. Have you met my mother?”
“I have. She is a very energetic woman, it seems. And worried about her son, as any mother would be.”
He reluctantly agreed. As the doctor left to prepare for his release, Sam lay back against the bed and stared back up at the ceiling. It was free of any markings and boring. It would drive a patient to tears if they had to stare at it for too long.
But isn’t boring what I need? Sam wondered to himself.
Less than an hour later, Sam and his parents were on their way home with his new prescription. The doctor had spoken with his parents, and the ride was eerily silent. Sam was grateful for it.
When they got home, Sam went up to his room and was relieved to find the picture still on the nightstand. He picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed, fingers gently touching the picture before opening the drawer and tucking it away for safekeeping. Maybe someday he’d get a frame for it. It was, after all, a cool car. How many teens could say their first car was a classic like that?
Hours passed and Sam alternated between resting and cleaning. By the time his mother had dinner ready, he’d finally straightened the mess that was his room and could breath easier. He hadn’t realized how… trapped he felt in the room. He took one last look around, pleased at himself, and went down for dinner.
It was a quiet affair and Sam ate the fried chicken quickly before heading back up to his room. He lay on his bed and stared at the crack in the ceiling, keeping his mind carefully blank. It had been a long day and he was already tired, though it was barely eight o’clock.
Just as he was about to turn onto his side to flip on his television, a burst of pain flared between his eyes. He let out a strangled moan and closed his eyes, dropping a hand over it, and tried to keep himself from reacting.
His father stood and shook his head at the salesman while Sam sat in the car. “I’m not going over four thousand.” Sam frowned when the man, Bobby Bolivia, told him to get out of the car and tried to show him another car. He frowned at it and just as he turned to his father, an alarm went off in the Camaro, shattering the windows in all the other cars on the lot. The three of them ducked down as the glass blew out all over the lot, sparkling in the sunlight.
Bobby stood up, surveying the damage in horror. He turned to Sam and his father and help up four fingers. “Four thousand!” he yelped.
Sam cheered and patted the car, a grin on his face. His father looked at the damage and shook his head. He’d have to get that alarm disconnected.
The image faded and left Sam with a slight twinge. He held his breath, waiting for a wave of pain and nausea, but nothing happened. He stayed in his spot, frozen with relief, and replayed the image in his mind over and over. Not pushing for more, but content with what he had for the moment.
~*~
Bumblebee felt guilty. He had found an opportunity to communicate with Sam and took it. He hadn’t thought that it would be a problem. But what had been harmless ended up with Sam in the hospital for a short amount of time. He came down from the cliff and sulked around, leaving the others to stay out of his way.
It didn’t take Optimus long to figure out what had happened though, and with his usual tact, he approached Bumblebee.
“It is unwise to try to contact Sam, Bumblebee. You could endanger him in many ways. Causing him to be ill will be the least of your concerns… and ours… if the American government finds out. We signed a contract with them stating we would not have contact with humans, including Sam. If we break that agreement we could be forced from this planet. There are now many others involved in this, and I cannot allow you to keep making these decisions that could endanger us all.”
“There is no danger,” Bumblebee argued, gesturing. “I am careful. They will not find out.”
“I have no doubt that you are careful. But was it not a human girl that detected the Decepticons hacking into their government’s files? And a human boy that figured out the encryption and discovered what it was they were stealing? It is not like you to underestimate them. Your concern for the boy is clouding your sensors.”
Bumblebee hung his head, taking the reprimand seriously. It bothered Optimus to see him that way, and after a moment, he relented.
“Anyway, we have another shipment due to arrive in a few hours. With an old friend. I hope you’ll be here to speak with him.”
The smaller Autobot looked up at him, wondering who he meant. A few hours later he was there when the convoy arrived, led by none other than Major Lennox.
“Optimus!” The man said, a wide smile on his face. Behind him was USAF Master Sergeant Epps. “It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”
“Things are going well. How are you?” he asked, kneeling down to be a little closer to his level.
“Things are great. My little girl’s five now, can you believe it?”
Epps rolled his eyes at his friend and looked around. “So this is what you’ve been doing with
all those materials?”
Ironhide strode up to them, snorting. “This is nothing. The real work is underground. Come, I’ll show you.”
“A private tour, very nice.”
Lennox held up a hand and shook his head when they turned to wait for him. “You go ahead. I wanted to speak with Optimus about something.” When Bumblebee turned to leave, he held up a hand. “Wait, Bumblebee. I’d like you to stay, too.”
Bee looked to Optimus and shrugged when their leader nodded his agreement. He would stay.
The three of them walked some distance away, even though it didn’t matter where they went in the compound; the others would hear them if they chose. They ended up walking until they reached the cliff. Bumblebee sat on the ledge, settling into a position he was familiar with, and did his best not to connect with the satellites and surveillance around Sam. Old habits, after all, die hard.
“I thought you’d like to know, we’ve been monitoring Sam since the government wiped his memory clean. I suppose they felt that since we already knew the boy, it would be easier to use us rather than get others involved.”
“It is good to know he has friends watching over him.”
“Yeah. Since the surgery, he’s been having migraines. The doctor we have watching the situation was afraid at first that his body was rejecting the implant. But he’s working on another theory. Anyway, I also thought you’d like to know he was rushed to the hospital today.” Lennox paused and looked up at Optimus, and then over at Bumblebee. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I just found out,” Optimus said, but Lennox held his gaze on Bumblebee, who was staring out at the horizon.
“Bumblebee? What about you? My men have found evidence of someone hacking into surveillance and satellite feeds. It was very well covered, but there were traces.”
Bee had couldn’t hide the minute reaction he had of surprise. He’d thought he’d been very careful. Lennox saw this and sighed. “You’re lucky we were the ones to find it. I know you’re worried about the kid, hell I am too, but you need to be more careful.”
The Autobot nodded but didn’t look his way.
“We all miss him. I don’t like what they did to him any more than you do, but nothing can be done about it. He’s back home now and doing fine, from what it seems.”
“What about his memories?”
“Seems like a few of them are surfacing. We have a doctor on the inside that took over his care if he was brought in. Doctor Haines is a good man, so we’re told.”
Optimus leaned closer to him, his metallic features shifting to show his confusion. “You have a doctor working for you?”
Lennox grinned. “Well not for me, exactly, but the division I’m now working under. They don’t think what happened to Sam was a good thing for their own reasons. He’s been in contact with you guys for so long now, and he has… had… that bit of the Allspark with him and in his brain. There’s more to it, but I’m not privy to that information yet. I’ll keep you informed.”
With that, he looked at his watch and nodded to them. “I’ve got to get back. I’ll send you an update when I have something.”
“Thank you for keeping us updated.”
“We’ve been through a lot together, and he’s a good kid. Don’t want to see anything happen to him.”
Lennox said his goodbye to Bumblebee and left with Optimus. When they were gone, he carefully connected to the satellite and checked to make sure Sam was all right. When he was assured that he was, he retreated and ended his connection, then left his spot and went to join the others. There was much work to do.
Fandom: Transformers, set years after Revenge of the Fallen
Pairing: BeexSam
Rating: Currently PG13 for mild language, may change later
Word Count: 2,512
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers; they are not mine, nor ever will be. The songs belong to their respective owners, as well.
Note: I am not a doctor, so not all things may be accurate, but I tried to be as close as possible. Forgive any errors, please.
Chapter: Four
The first thing Sam noted when he opened his eyes was that the ceiling was smooth and white, with small recessed lighting around the edges. The bed below him was thin and he could feel the metal beneath it. Definitely not his bed. Rolling his eyes to the right he saw curtains hanging around the bed.
He was in a hospital.
His lips were dry and cracked, and he licked to wet them and struggled to push himself up into some semblance of sitting. He found a remote by his hand and pushed the button, which lifted his head. To his left came the steady beeping of monitors; it was a sound he knew too well from his time in the hospital just a month earlier.
Sam was about to call out to his parents when the curtain parted and a man in a white coat slipped in with a clipboard in his hands. He smiled when he saw Sam sitting there.
“Sam. It’s nice to see you awake and sitting. I’m Doctor Haines. How are you feeling?”
Assessing the situation, Sam concentrated and felt no pain. “I feel fine. What am I doing here?”
“Your parents called for an ambulance and had you brought in. You lost consciousness at home.”
“Oh… where are my parents?”
“They’re out in the lobby getting coffee. They’ll be back soon.”
“How long has it been?” Sam wanted to know.
“You’ve been here for about an hour now. You’re a little dehydrated, so we have you on an IV to bring your fluids back up. I have some questions I’d like to ask you, if that’s all right?”
Sam nodded cautiously, not wanting to set off any new pains. “Sure.”
“Your doctor placed you on Imitrex for migraines, correct?”
“Yes. But not at first. I was just taking Excedrin Migraine, but it didn’t help.”
“Okay. How are your sleep habits? And eating? Are you getting enough exercise?”
Sam answered the questions and then came under a new barrage, but answered them as well, to the best he could. He wondered if he should tell the doctor about the visions he saw, but something told him it wouldn’t be a good idea. He refrained, for the moment.
“I don’t see any reason to admit you at this time, Sam. But I am going to switch your medication. Treximet is another migraine medication, but it’s been proven more effective for some over Imitrex. It is not to be taken daily, but can be taken when you feel a migraine coming on. Do you understand?” Sam nodded that he did. “Good. I’ll have that filled for you here. Now, as for exercise, it would be good for you if you did some light cardiovascular exercises. Some migraines can be brought on by stress, and exercise can help alleviate that. This does not mean you should go out and start running a marathon, though.”
Sam barked a short laugh. “Don’t worry about that, not a chance.”
“Good. We’ll see about getting you released shortly. In the mean time, you can just wait here and I’ll get your parents. Do you have any questions?”
He hesitated and stared down at the blanket covering his legs. “This new stuff… will it help a migraine that comes on suddenly?”
“What do you mean by suddenly?”
“When I get them, there’s usually no warning. It just happens and I end up on the floor or the ground.”
Dr. Haines looked at him and jotted a note on his clipboard. “Tell me a little about what happened this time. Your parents told me their version, but I’d like to hear it from your perspective.”
Sam carefully picked his away around some of the details, leaving out the bit about the radio seemingly trying to give him a message - it had seemed that way to him, at least for a moment - and also omitting the bit about the picture of his former car. He did, however, throw in a little about memories starting to slowly come back. But he didn’t tell him what kinds of memories.
“Just fragments,” he said vaguely, when asked. “A sound or a color, and a phrase or two from someone I know. One of my friends. From school.”
“This is fantastic news, Sam. I’m happy to hear your memories are returning. It must be a relief for you.”
“It is,” he admitted.
“I have a word of caution, though. When it happens, just let it run its course. Don’t try to get more out of it than your mind is trying to give you. That could be - I’m not saying it is, but it could be - a reason why your migraines are so intense and frequent. You could be unconsciously trying to get more out of these fragments that your brain is not yet ready to give up.”
“So… what should I do when it happens?”
“Try to relax. Sit down and close your eyes. Don’t focus too hard on the memories, but let it happen. If the pain is intense, take your medication and lay down in a dark, silent room.”
Good advice that Sam was determined to take. “Can you tell my mother that bit about silent? She likes to uh, barge in and check on me.”
The doctor chuckled and nodded. “It’s difficult living at home sometimes, isn’t it? You’re twenty-two?” Sam nodded. “When you get your own place, it’ll be different. But believe it or not, you’ll probably miss your mother’s interference.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I doubt it. Have you met my mother?”
“I have. She is a very energetic woman, it seems. And worried about her son, as any mother would be.”
He reluctantly agreed. As the doctor left to prepare for his release, Sam lay back against the bed and stared back up at the ceiling. It was free of any markings and boring. It would drive a patient to tears if they had to stare at it for too long.
But isn’t boring what I need? Sam wondered to himself.
Less than an hour later, Sam and his parents were on their way home with his new prescription. The doctor had spoken with his parents, and the ride was eerily silent. Sam was grateful for it.
When they got home, Sam went up to his room and was relieved to find the picture still on the nightstand. He picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed, fingers gently touching the picture before opening the drawer and tucking it away for safekeeping. Maybe someday he’d get a frame for it. It was, after all, a cool car. How many teens could say their first car was a classic like that?
Hours passed and Sam alternated between resting and cleaning. By the time his mother had dinner ready, he’d finally straightened the mess that was his room and could breath easier. He hadn’t realized how… trapped he felt in the room. He took one last look around, pleased at himself, and went down for dinner.
It was a quiet affair and Sam ate the fried chicken quickly before heading back up to his room. He lay on his bed and stared at the crack in the ceiling, keeping his mind carefully blank. It had been a long day and he was already tired, though it was barely eight o’clock.
Just as he was about to turn onto his side to flip on his television, a burst of pain flared between his eyes. He let out a strangled moan and closed his eyes, dropping a hand over it, and tried to keep himself from reacting.
His father stood and shook his head at the salesman while Sam sat in the car. “I’m not going over four thousand.” Sam frowned when the man, Bobby Bolivia, told him to get out of the car and tried to show him another car. He frowned at it and just as he turned to his father, an alarm went off in the Camaro, shattering the windows in all the other cars on the lot. The three of them ducked down as the glass blew out all over the lot, sparkling in the sunlight.
Bobby stood up, surveying the damage in horror. He turned to Sam and his father and help up four fingers. “Four thousand!” he yelped.
Sam cheered and patted the car, a grin on his face. His father looked at the damage and shook his head. He’d have to get that alarm disconnected.
The image faded and left Sam with a slight twinge. He held his breath, waiting for a wave of pain and nausea, but nothing happened. He stayed in his spot, frozen with relief, and replayed the image in his mind over and over. Not pushing for more, but content with what he had for the moment.
~*~
Bumblebee felt guilty. He had found an opportunity to communicate with Sam and took it. He hadn’t thought that it would be a problem. But what had been harmless ended up with Sam in the hospital for a short amount of time. He came down from the cliff and sulked around, leaving the others to stay out of his way.
It didn’t take Optimus long to figure out what had happened though, and with his usual tact, he approached Bumblebee.
“It is unwise to try to contact Sam, Bumblebee. You could endanger him in many ways. Causing him to be ill will be the least of your concerns… and ours… if the American government finds out. We signed a contract with them stating we would not have contact with humans, including Sam. If we break that agreement we could be forced from this planet. There are now many others involved in this, and I cannot allow you to keep making these decisions that could endanger us all.”
“There is no danger,” Bumblebee argued, gesturing. “I am careful. They will not find out.”
“I have no doubt that you are careful. But was it not a human girl that detected the Decepticons hacking into their government’s files? And a human boy that figured out the encryption and discovered what it was they were stealing? It is not like you to underestimate them. Your concern for the boy is clouding your sensors.”
Bumblebee hung his head, taking the reprimand seriously. It bothered Optimus to see him that way, and after a moment, he relented.
“Anyway, we have another shipment due to arrive in a few hours. With an old friend. I hope you’ll be here to speak with him.”
The smaller Autobot looked up at him, wondering who he meant. A few hours later he was there when the convoy arrived, led by none other than Major Lennox.
“Optimus!” The man said, a wide smile on his face. Behind him was USAF Master Sergeant Epps. “It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”
“Things are going well. How are you?” he asked, kneeling down to be a little closer to his level.
“Things are great. My little girl’s five now, can you believe it?”
Epps rolled his eyes at his friend and looked around. “So this is what you’ve been doing with
all those materials?”
Ironhide strode up to them, snorting. “This is nothing. The real work is underground. Come, I’ll show you.”
“A private tour, very nice.”
Lennox held up a hand and shook his head when they turned to wait for him. “You go ahead. I wanted to speak with Optimus about something.” When Bumblebee turned to leave, he held up a hand. “Wait, Bumblebee. I’d like you to stay, too.”
Bee looked to Optimus and shrugged when their leader nodded his agreement. He would stay.
The three of them walked some distance away, even though it didn’t matter where they went in the compound; the others would hear them if they chose. They ended up walking until they reached the cliff. Bumblebee sat on the ledge, settling into a position he was familiar with, and did his best not to connect with the satellites and surveillance around Sam. Old habits, after all, die hard.
“I thought you’d like to know, we’ve been monitoring Sam since the government wiped his memory clean. I suppose they felt that since we already knew the boy, it would be easier to use us rather than get others involved.”
“It is good to know he has friends watching over him.”
“Yeah. Since the surgery, he’s been having migraines. The doctor we have watching the situation was afraid at first that his body was rejecting the implant. But he’s working on another theory. Anyway, I also thought you’d like to know he was rushed to the hospital today.” Lennox paused and looked up at Optimus, and then over at Bumblebee. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I just found out,” Optimus said, but Lennox held his gaze on Bumblebee, who was staring out at the horizon.
“Bumblebee? What about you? My men have found evidence of someone hacking into surveillance and satellite feeds. It was very well covered, but there were traces.”
Bee had couldn’t hide the minute reaction he had of surprise. He’d thought he’d been very careful. Lennox saw this and sighed. “You’re lucky we were the ones to find it. I know you’re worried about the kid, hell I am too, but you need to be more careful.”
The Autobot nodded but didn’t look his way.
“We all miss him. I don’t like what they did to him any more than you do, but nothing can be done about it. He’s back home now and doing fine, from what it seems.”
“What about his memories?”
“Seems like a few of them are surfacing. We have a doctor on the inside that took over his care if he was brought in. Doctor Haines is a good man, so we’re told.”
Optimus leaned closer to him, his metallic features shifting to show his confusion. “You have a doctor working for you?”
Lennox grinned. “Well not for me, exactly, but the division I’m now working under. They don’t think what happened to Sam was a good thing for their own reasons. He’s been in contact with you guys for so long now, and he has… had… that bit of the Allspark with him and in his brain. There’s more to it, but I’m not privy to that information yet. I’ll keep you informed.”
With that, he looked at his watch and nodded to them. “I’ve got to get back. I’ll send you an update when I have something.”
“Thank you for keeping us updated.”
“We’ve been through a lot together, and he’s a good kid. Don’t want to see anything happen to him.”
Lennox said his goodbye to Bumblebee and left with Optimus. When they were gone, he carefully connected to the satellite and checked to make sure Sam was all right. When he was assured that he was, he retreated and ended his connection, then left his spot and went to join the others. There was much work to do.