Author's Notes: Yes, another one-shot crack fluff fic. I've been trying to practice doing smaller stories and stuff.

Sleepless in Tranquility.

By Lindsay Smith

Night had descended upon the human settlement called Tranquility and its inhabitants were taking their routine recharge as they did whenever their local star dipped below the horizon, slipping into soft comforters and allowing their tired minds to rest for a few hours before meeting a new day and its challenges.

That was, save for one.

Sam stared at his ceiling. He vaguely pondered counting the tiny ridges on the spackled surface to perhaps bore himself to sleep, but decided against it. He didn't need to add a headache to his insomnia and he was more then certain the total number would range far beyond his ability to count. He glanced at his alarm clock to see bright red luminous numbers staring back at him. 4:45 AM. Great.

He sighed.

Turning on his side, facing the wall, Sam curled up and buried himself into his pillow. He felt the encroaching wariness all through his body but for the love of everything Swiss and Holy, he simply couldn't coax his mind into the rejuvenating state. It'd been like this for several days. He wasn't really surprised he couldn't sleep; after all, how many teenagers started their summer vacations by running from five story alien robots and falling off of office buildings? Not many he wagered. But what was so surprising was that he didn't know what was keeping him up. Was it simply the residual excitement? Lingering adrenaline? He wasn't having nightmares; you needed to sleep to have nightmares. The first night after the all out war that had nearly reduced Mission City to rubble, Sam and Mikeala had spent the entire night with the Autobots, just hanging around in the middle of a field that the Autobots were temporarily resting at before the government could decide where to stash them. The Autobot Medical officer, Ratchet, had finally demanded the two return home for a "proper recharge" when the sun rose and neither argued. But even with the seemingly overwhelming fatigue weighing him down, sleep was elusive and had been since.

His mind swirled, unable to latch onto any real train of thought.

Sam groaned and sat up in his bed. A glass of milk, half empty, sat on his bedside table. He'd tried the 'warm milk' cure but to no avail. Now the milk was cold and useless. He stared off into the dark recesses of his room, shady lumps that represented his possession scattered everything, making the scene before him resemble a collection of dark grey blobs. The faint moonlight coming from his window offered little seeing light, just enough for his eyes to absorb and make out the faint outlines of things.

Swinging away his bed clothes, Sam flung his feet over the mattress and onto the floor. Searching the ground with his feet, he located his discarded jeans and pulled them on while walking carefully over to his desk to switch on the table light. His room was a mess. Looking it over, he made a mental note to clean it before his Mother came up and saw it that way. He didn't want to attract anymore attention or suspicion from his parents. It had been a very weird week and they seemed keen on the fact that Sam was the reason for the bizarreness. Already he'd dodged the curious inquiries as to where his old Camaro went and how in the dickens he got the new one, but he knew his avoidance couldn't, and wouldn't, last forever. How the hell was he supposed to tell them? He didn't understand why the government hadn't told them when they were released from custody.

Finding his worn out sneakers, he shoved his sock-less feet into them and loosely tying them. Grabbing his lime-green jacket, Sam headed for the door and slipped his arms through the sleeves. Passing his parents' room, he walked softly, not daring to wake them. He passed by without incident.

He reached the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it up with water from the tap, and drinking. He knew you weren't supposed to drink from the tap, but he didn't care. Placing the now empty cup in the sink, Sam walked out the kitchen through the back and into the yard. He could still see the giant foot prints in his father's precious grass. Sam smirked at that but then frowned upon seeing the shattered remnants of the stone fountain. He stared at it for a long moment, almost transfixed upon it. It had been whole and 'not-broken' last week and now…now it was a crumbled ruin thanks to an accidental miss-step by Optimus. For some odd reason…that bothered him somehow…

Same glanced over at the drive way, expecting to see the bright yellow Camaro sitting there, but the spot was vacant. A surge of worry swept though him, making his fingers tingle, but it quickly dissipated. Bumblebee had a habit of disappearing without explanation and with the fall out of Mission City still ravaging through the United States Government, Sam assumed he was likely with the other Autobots, trying to sort through the mess.

The logical thing to do, then, was to go back inside and try to fall asleep and wait till he returned. But humans were very illogical, so Sam walked over to the driveway and up to the garage door. Leaning against the metal sheeting, he slowly sank to the floor and prompted loud crackles in the metal that he hoped wouldn't wake his parents. And he waited.

The street lamps burned brightly in the ally behind the house, a wooden gate lining the property with a gap that lead out of the driveway. Sam looked up at the inky blackness of the night sky, dazzled by the speckles of light strewn about like spilled glitter.

"I wonder," He thought aloud, under his breath, "Which one is Cybertron…?"

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, staring up at the sky and allowing his restless mind to wonder, but his musings were interrupted when he heard the soft purr of an engine and was suddenly doused in bright lights. Squinting past the radiance and shielding his eyes with one hand, Sam spotted the yellow Camaro. The disguised Autobot rolled into the driveway, shutting off his lights, and pausing a few feet in front of the young man before cutting his engine. For a moment, neither party spoke.

"Sam?" The Camaro finally asked, more surprised then concerned while his newly repaired voice still sounded raw and un-used. "Isn't a little earlier for you to be up?"

Sam waited until he had risen to his feet before replying. Looking at the windshield, assuming for no real reason that those were his 'eyes' while in that mode, Sam shrugged nonchalantly.

"Couldn't sleep," he replied simply.

"I see," The Camaro replied slowly with a small hint of amusement in his tone as if to say 'I can see that'. "Is there something wrong?"

Sam opened his mouth to say no, but when he tried to speak…nothing came out, surprising him. Was something wrong? He didn't think so. He didn't feel sick or scared…or anything really. He just…couldn't stop thinking. Night after night, he played the events of last week in his mind like some demented never-ending movie marathon. But wasn't sure why…

Seeming to consider Sam's silence as confirmation, Bumblebee's passenger side door popped open in invitation. Taking the cue, Sam walked around and slid into the Autobot's interior, the door closing behind him of its own volition. Pressing his back to the seat, Sam sighed and stared out through the windshield.

"Seatbelt," Bumblebee's voice prompted from the stereo. Sam's gaze flickered to the dial kiosk and blinked.

"Huh? Oh-!" He reached for the seatbelt, pulling it across him and buckling it shut.

Wordlessly, Bumblebee's engines hummed to life and the vehicle began to back out of the driveway. It was then Sam realized that he wasn't in the driver's seat. He always opted for the driver's seat. He'd been the faux driver almost every time. But Bumblebee had directed him to the passenger side. he found that curious. Instead of saying anything, he just sank back in the seat and stared out the window.

Neither one spoke as Bumblebee drove through the nearly deserted streets, turning this way and that, and Sam wondered if his guardian was merely driving around or he had some location in mind. His curiosity was answered when the yellow Camaro rolled past the open gates of the old refinery, the same place he and Barricade had first tussled while Sam and Mikeala fended off the smaller Decepticon cretin, Frenzy. Sam found himself smirking at the memory of Mikeala taking a hack-saw to the metal monster's neck.

"Not so tough without a head, huh?" He had said.

The Camaro weaved around old rusted machinery before pausing behind a large stack of industrial pipes and opened his door. Sam stepped out, hands firmly lodged inside his jean pockets as he turned and watched the yellow Camaro unfold and twist in incomprehensible ways until a bipedal mechanical robot stood in its place, electric blue eyes staring down at the smaller human at his feet.

"We can talk more privately here," He told Sam.

The boy nodded, looking around and recalling the last time he'd been there.

"Sam." Turning around, Sam came face to face with his guardian as the Autobot lowered himself to the ground. "What has been bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me really…" Sam replied, shrugging. "Just…restless maybe. I guess."

The Mech pinned the boy with a look.

"Sam," Bumblebee admonished. "If it were really nothing as you say, then you wouldn't have been outside waiting for me. Now would you?"

"No…I guess not," Sam replied feeling like a toddler caught in a lie.

"So tell me," Bumblebee said. "What's been bothering you? If it is keeping you from recharging properly then it should be addressed and as your active guardian, I would be neglecting my duty if I allowed this to continue…" He paused and chuckled as a thought seemed to strike him, "I doubt Ratchet would very happy with me either. You have not seen him truly mad or annoyed yet, but Ratchet has a mean throwing arm."

Sam smiled weakly and tried to line up his thoughts so he could adequately answer his friend.

"I dunno what's bothering me really…" Same replied, kicking at the pebbles at his feet. "Haven't gotten that much sleep since Mission City."

Bumblebee was silent for a moment, pondering his response.

"Are you worried about the surviving Decepticons?"

"No—well, yeah. Of course, but it's not that…" Sam sat down in the dirt next to Bumblebee and sighed. "I just can't stop thinking about it…"

"About what?"

Sam looked up into the sky.

"Everything," he said. Bumblebee looked down at his charge and then followed his gaze to the stars before returning his optics to the boy, faintly wondering what he was looking at.

"I don't understand."

"It's just…I guess I'm having a hard time believing everything that's happened," he said. "I mean, a week ago my main concern was getting an A on my school project, getting out of school, and spending the summer with Miles; staying up late, playing video games, and OD'ing on junk food. Now…now it's like everything up until now was meaningless. Like…I'm starting my life all over."

"Why would you think your life has been meaningless?" Bumblebee sounded genuinely confused.

"I dunno…I feel like everything been a huge lie and I dunno what to believe anymore," Sam replied and winced. "No, that's not right. It's just…ah, how do I explain this…? Think if you spent your whole life in a dimly lit room and you could only see a little of what was inside the room. You couldn't tell what it was exactly, but you thought you knew or had a pretty good guess. And…you liked it that way."

Bumblebee nodded. "OK."

"Now imagine if someone turned the lights on and everything you thought you knew was suddenly something else. That beach ball in the corner turns out to be a globe and that TV against the wall is actually a book shelf. Get it?"

Bumblebee tilted his head. "No…not really."

Sam sighed.

"…everything just feels really really big right now," He replied, hoping this new explanation would make more sense. He looked downcast, "And I feel really really small."

Bumblebee chuckled and leaned forward to peer at the smaller being, raising his hand to hover a foot away from the boy's head as if to indicate his height. "But you are really small."

Half annoyed, half amused, Sam raised his arms to push away the giant palm looming over him. "Beside the point Bee!"

Bumblebee chuckled again and leaned back. "You feel overwhelmed by everything that has happened?"

"…Yeah."

"I suppose that's understandable," Bumblebee replied. "If I had been sheltered as you humans are I probably would have felt the same way."

"Sheltered?" Sam asked incredulously.

"You're species is very sheltered here," The Mech told him frankly. "The simple fact that before our presence here was revealed to you, you didn't know there was other life outside of Earth or your own solar system proves that."

"It's not like we didn't suspect it," Sam replied somewhat defensively. "It's just hard to believe in something you can't see."

"But you can see me," Bumblebee replied, amused.

"Yeah well now I can," Sam laughed, gesturing to the intimidating bulk of the Mech. "You're sitting right next to me! How could I miss you?"

"Sometimes the hardest things to see are the ones that are right in front of us," Bumblebee said cryptically. Sam looked up at the Mech in confusion.

"Optimus told me that once," The yellow 'Bot clarified, having turned to look back up at the sky, "A long time ago. When I was put in charge of my own squad."

"You lead your own squad?"

"Yes."

"Cool! How many?"

"…Several," Bumblebee replied and Sam caught onto something in the Mech voice that made him pause.

"Did…something happen?"

Bumblebee tore his optics from the night and glanced down at his charge. "War. War happened. Battles are fought and are either won or lost. We won."

"Then…" Sam hesitated to say. "…why do you sound all bummed out? If you won then…"

"Victory comes at a cost, Sam," Bumblebee said, lifting one hand to trace the armor platting around his neck. "It always does."

And then it hit him and he suddenly felt like the world's biggest idiot. "I'm sorry, man."

"Don't be," Bumblebee replied. "Nothing is ever a waste, they're sacrifice was to protect the Allspark. If anyone failed, it was me for not being able lead them to victory…and to safety."

Sam blinked up at the Mech at the mention of the Allspark. The pit of his stomach suddenly squirmed uncomfortably and dropped. He looked down at the ground, shame seeming to fill him.

"And I destroyed it," Sam replied in a small voice.

"Sam?" Bumblebee looked down at the boy, confused at his tone.

"The Allspark," Sam said, "You guys all fought so hard for it for a long time, right? And…a lot of your kind, your friends, died trying to keep it safe. And I destroyed it."

Bumblebee studied the small human boy sitting beside him, surprised at what he was hearing. Finally, he asked, "Sam," he waited for the boy to look up at him, "Is that what's been bothering you?"

Sam stared for a moment before lowering his head again…and nodded.

"Sam, you—"

"I've never had so much stuff hanging over my head before," Sam admitted. "It's like…it's like it's crushing me. I feel like I took something from you, something I had no right to take…"

"You did it to save Optimus," Bumblebee insisted. "He's our leader, Sam. We're all very grateful to you for that. If we'd lost both Optimus and the Allspark…well, I can say safely then we would be truly lost."

"But you can never go home. And you're people will die out won't they? Without it?"

"Cybertron is not what it was. Even if we had the Allspark, how long until another war erupted over it? Any life we created from the Cube would have been dragged into it and what good would that have done? The War needed to end and to do that, the Allspark needed to be destroyed. You did what none of us could have; what none of us were brave enough to do. Sam, you saved a lot of people by doing what you did. Don't blame yourself for it. We don't."

Sam wasn't convinced.

"Besides," Bumblebee said cheerfully, cupping his hand against the boy's back, "We live a long long time. And I like Earth. If we had to pick any place to be our new Home I'm glad it was this one. It's certainly more interesting then empty Space. And all that time we spent out there searching for the Cube? It was pretty boring. And if you think Ironhide's trigger happy now, you should see him when he's bored out of his processor. It's a show that's for sure."

Sam smiled.

"So don't worry," Bumblebee said. "It's sad the Cube's gone, sure, but considering all the struggle and turmoil that it caused? All the death? Maybe it is better it was destroyed. And you took Megatron out with it; that's a bonus. We were searching for it for so long Sam, you can't even begin to imagine. We needed it to be destroyed; even if we didn't know it at the time. We owe you and Mikeala and Lennox and all those other humans a lot. If you guys hadn't helped us, we would have been…uh, what's the phrase? Royally screwed?"

Sam burst out into laughter, leaning back into Bumblebee's hand. The Mech gently scooped the boy up and deposited him on his shoulder.

"Something like that," Sam replied after he'd caught his breath and looked up. "So…"

Bumblebee turned his head to glance at his young charge, pleased to see Sam in a more pleasurable mood.

"So?"

"Which one is Cybertron?"

Bumblebee looked up at the sky and sighed. "I wish I knew."

"Don't you have some sort of trajectory type thing that…I dunno, tracks where you've been?" Sam asked. "Or something?"

"No," Bumblebee replied with a laugh. "We have programs that can analyze the star constellations to determine our locations, but these stars are foreign and I did not log any during my journey here. I am sure Optimus or Ratchet might know, though. They seem more the type to analog such things."

"I'll have to ask one of them next time I see 'um," Sam replied. For a long while, they stayed like that, watching the stars cross the heavens. The inky black sky began to fade into the grey mist of mid-morning. Sam stretched his arms from where he sat atop his guardian's shoulder and yawned.

Bumblebee tilted his head at Sam. "I think we should be getting back. It wouldn't be good for you parents to wake up and find their offspring missing."

"No," Sam agreed. "That would defiantly not be good."

Bumblebee lowered the boy to the ground and transformed back into his alternate mode. The driver's side door popped open and, smiling, Sam climbed in. The journey back to Sam's house was peaceful and quiet, the chilly night air beginning to fade as the sun rose and warmed that particular portion of the Earth.

Bumblebee pulled into the Witwicky's driveway and turned his sensors inwards to find Sam sound asleep, arms crossed and perched up on his door with Sam's head snuggled into his sleeves. He could hear the boy's soft breathing when he cut his engines and Bumblebee mentally smiled at his charge, but then quickly wondered how was he ever gonna get Sam back into his bed without waking up him or his parents?

Bumblebee silently cursed.