A/N: Yes I am back (thank God). If you want the whole story go see my profile. I'm permently back so huzuhh! Some people say writing is their own slice of absolute control...but I don't see it that way at all. Sure I have a general idea of what's going to happen, but dialogue, minor plot that all just happens. Usually pops up when I'm listening to music. So in other words...I am a beta for my story and not an author, figure THAT one out lol!

Sam Witwicky: Project Anomaly

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or storyline regarding the Transformers universe both comic/television and movie (2007/2009). They are copy written to Hasbro, DreamWorks, and Paramount Pictures. I am just a twisted individual with spare time on her hands creating a warped version of the franchise.

General Warnings: Language, graphic violence, torture, possible rape, explicit sexual situations between robotic and non-robotic life forms, and of course; Sam's neurotic behaviour.

Warnings for this chapter: Language, violence and torture.

"Normal Speech"

'Internal Thought'

"Cybertronian"

"-Radio Transmission-"

Chapter Eight: Lab Rat

In which being right is not always a good thing.

"You're doing the right thing, son," one of the privates commented as they marched down the brightly lit hallway.

"Oh yeah?" Sam replied sarcastically. "And how exactly is this the right thing?"

The soldier's mouth hardened. "Punks like you aren't aware of the damage they cause. You're more concerned about having a fucking good time, isn't that right?"

The teen blanched. Where had that come from? He rolled his eyes.

When he saw the boy's reaction he sneered. "Just as I thought. Well I'm glad you and your freak friends are getting what's coming to you."

"What the hell?" Sam snapped.

"Don't act all innocent, kid," another barked. "You've put people in danger and caused millions in damages. It's time the lot of you owned up."

"Whoa, I didn't do anything! And you're lucky the Autobots have been here from getting us all killed!" Sam exclaimed.

"Didn't do anything?" he seethed. "People got hurt during your last stunt. Not on that retarded scrap in the desert, either. I'm talking about two days ago in suburban California. Little girl got hurt when one of those freaks crashed into the house. 'Nother guy has third degree burns from one of their weapons going off." The man clutched Sam's shoulder painfully. "So don't tell me you didn't do 'anything'!"

Sam paled. "A little girl?" he echoed. It was easy to put the numerous deaths on the bench as this war continued to escalate, but now they seemed to compile on Sam's conscience. War always created casualties. Mankind had become so desensitized to the violence against their fellow man, it barely warranted a glance to the ticker tape on the six o'clock news.

Now, the fighting had hit home turf and still Sam had put it out of mind. Sure, when he, Mikaela and the Autobots were scrambling through a combat zone, it was easy to focus on the fear, pain, and trauma happening at that very moment, but when had he ever stopped and thought about the effects on others?

He felt a clenching twist in his gut as he rolled this newfound awareness in his thoughts. People were dying. Hell, even Autobots had suffered, and Sam was partially responsible, contributing to this whole mess.

"You're beginning to understand."

Sam started as the odd voice penetrated his mind once again. 'What exactly do I understand here?' he demanded, but no reply came.

The eerie hush of sliding doors fell to the rhythmic march of army boots and one pair of sliding sneakers. Sam winced as he roughly collided with one of the PO's back, glowering as the stoic man barely reacted.

"In you go," he ordered, turning and escorting the boy into a cramped foyer. Sam squeezed his tall frame into as much of the corner as possible as the door behind him shut and alarm bells blared above his head. Suddenly, a cold spray of solution rained down on him and he groaned at the smell. An explosion of air followed shortly after, drying the disinfectant so that it caked on the skin like a layer of grit.

"I know I stink after days on the run, but a normal shower would have been nice," he grumbled to no one in particular.

The door on the opposite end opened after the sterilization, and since the exit was blocked by two hundred pounds of jarhead, Sam opted to go through the doorway to whatever waited for him on the other side.

"Ah, Mr. Witwicky if you could climb onto the table, we'll begin your examination."

He sighed. Suddenly taking on an armed soldier didn't seem so bad.

Fresh from the infirmary, Sam was oddly feeling a little worse for wear. His left arm had been cleansed and sewn back together, but the medics had informed him that he would lose that arm in a matter of days as well. There simply was not enough blood flow to the appendage. His pupils were dilated and were not reacting to light stimuli. His blood pressure was dangerously low; his core temperature had dropped to 94.3 degrees Fahrenheit, which was medically impossible since his metabolism had increased. In short, he was a walking medical paradox. Odder yet, was when they had tried to take an x-ray of his right arm, only to have to the images appear inky black.

He was once again trudging down another hallway, paying no attention to where they were going or how long they had been walking. Something was nagging at his thoughts, like a forgotten event or piece of information. The irksome pulse continued to wiggle and Sam felt an odd annoyance at the building surrounding him. It was if these thick walls were preventing the thought from becoming awareness. The cold dead building was suddenly foreign to him, and Sam found himself hating it. As the group continued to march, the feeling turned to apprehension, like waiting for a scary part in a horror film. You knew something was coming, just not what.

The party abruptly stopped outside a gleaming metallic door. There were no signs or markers to tell Sam which part of the building he was in, and that worried him. What was this place? The guard leaned forward and opened the door, waiting for Sam to go in first. Like hell he was going in there!

A rather harsh shove later, he was in the room and the first thing he noticed was the temperature. It was freezing, so much that his breath could clearly be seen, and Sam rubbed his bare arm. The transformed appendage didn't seem as affected by the cold. He covertly stole glances around the stark room. It contained nothing. No chair, no table, only light. Scratch that. Sam walked over to the only object in the room; a mirror, six feet long and three feet wide. He knew it was most likely one way and that he was being observed at that very moment. Despite the severity of the situation, Sam had an itching need to give them the finger or flash them something more vulgar. Instead, he pressed his face right up against the glass, creating a comically squished profile. He stuck out his tongue and proceeded to smear his face along the mirror. The squeal of the slick friction filled the room.

"-Mr. Witwicky, please refrain from tainting the glass!-" a voice filtered through.

Sam stopped, keeping his face against the glass. "No," he garbled.

"-If you will not comply, armed personnel will be forced to detain you.-"

"Good, 'least I'll have someone to talk to," he frowned, crossing his arms. "I've been through this routine before, so just come in and let's get this over with. Don't try and play the waiting game with me because if you do-" he placed his mutated hand on the glass, claws sliding slightly down the surface creating a piercing sound, "-this'll be worse than nails on a chalkboard."

No sooner had he finished, the door slammed open and a squadron of men dressed entirely in black entered the room. Sam became wary and backed into the corner. There was something unnerving about not seeing a man's face and he made a mental note never to piss off a ninja. The men lined themselves along the wall, allowing a trio of doctors and one other man to access the cell. Sam groaned.

NSA Galloway approached Sam with a Cheshire grin, and the teen felt his innards squirm. "Ah, my boy! It's been too long. You've grown I see."

"Ha..." Sam had an uncomfortable smile on his face as the man drew closer.

" I'd like to see your arm."

"What, why? It's a perfectly normal, healthy arm. Nothing much going on-"

"-Besides that it is now housing alien DNA and posing a threat to humanity's very existence."

"What?" Sam shouted. "It's not like my arm is the plague or anything!" He absently scratched at the hard surface with his bandaged hand.

"That's why we have you here. You're to undergo certain medical testing to determine how infectious this disease really is and to administer a proper quarantine procedure."

"I'm not fucking contagious!" Sam shouted. "Mikaela doesn't have this happening to her. This is from me touching the damn Allspark and Matrix!"

Galloway frowned. " We will see how affected Miss Banes is by this pathogen through scientific research, not by your word Mr. Witwicky."

Sam's eyes hardened. "Don't you touch her."

"I'm afraid she's already in the lab, cooperating I might add." The Administrator turned away. "I should thank you; you've just given us the reason to get those buckets of bolts off our planet once and for all."

"You can't do this!"

The shrewd man smirked. "As a matter of fact, I can. I have authorization from the President to detain the Autobots and restrict their movements. But let's face it, they're not one for following orders to the very end. Eventually someone will slip up, make a foolish mistake claiming it to be 'in the best interest for our species'. We have a failsafe procedure for just such an event." Sam's skin chilled with every passing word. The sallow man seemed to ponder for a moment. "Although, you could make things easier for everyone involved. Your friends might go peacefully once you tell them too."

"No way!" he spat.

"- and if they don't we can always use the weapon intended for the other ones."

Sam felt his heart drop. "Weapon?"

"That's right. You don't think we were going to remain helpless little worms while they parade around our planet causing mayhem and destruction wherever they go, do you? So I suggest you ask them, very nicely, to leave if you don't want them blown to bits."

"I'll tell them something all right," he growled.

"Perhaps harming your girlfriend or family might get the message across, Mr. Witwicky," Galloway hissed. One of the black clad soldiers, visibly tensed, but it went unnoticed by the Advisor. "Your little game is over. The aliens are going to be gone one way or another, so I suggest you take the path we choose for you, or things are going to get very messy."

Sam stopped. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't how things were supposed to be! Maybe he was bluffing and the States didn't have such a weapon, but then he remembered on the aircraft carrier Simmons ecstatically recounting the tail of how he had issued the order to take on the gargantuan Decepticon with a naval ray gun of sorts. If there was such a weapon already available, what else had the U.S. constructed in the past year?

"All right," he answered dejectedly, "I'll tell them."

"Good boy."

As they walked down the winding hallway, Sam desperately tried to think of a way out of the situation, but so far his brain was his worst enemy. His thoughts were a big pile of chaotic nonsense. Maybe they could fight their way out, grab Mikaela and just run from the feds. It's not like they were helpless, they were giant, armed metal robots for crying out loud! But, when the double metal doors opened to allow the group into the hanger and Sam saw Bumblebee, he knew there was no other choice.

The yellow mech greeted the boy with an excited warble and felt his circuits tingle. Everything was going to be all right. Bee was sure Optimus would forget this silly business of renouncing his guardianship and he and Sam could be together again. He caught the boy's eyes then and his core froze. Everything was not all right, in fact, something was horribly wrong.

"-Sarge, I got a baaaad feeling on this one,-" he voiced through his radio.

"That's enough, Bumblebee," Optimus warned. The Autobot leader looked then to the approaching humans. Something had happened and he could not ignore the growing dread in his mind as well. His optics focused on the Advisor. "Are we finished here? The boy needs to be heavily guarded, for I fear the Decepticons are taking an unhealthy interest in his development."

"You don't need to worry about that," Galloway dismissed. "This facility is heavily guarded and an attack is inconceivable."

"Just like the facility that held the original Allspark and its shard?" Ironhide grumbled. "I could walk right into this place and walk right back out."

"I'd like to see you try!" Galloway snapped. The NSA smoothed his tie to calm himself down. "The boy has something to say to you and I suggest you listen."

All eyes turned to Sam and he squirmed.

"I'm with you on this one," Epps said to Bee, glancing up at the concerned bot. This had politics written all over it.

Bee looked down and nodded.

"Don't know how to say this," Sam started, biting his tongue. It was so hard to not yell 'run!' and escape from this place. "We figured out what's wrong with my arm and they're going to fix it before it gets any worse. You guys made sure that the Decepticons were pretty much scrapped in Jordan, and the government has something cooked up for the rest of them. I guess, you're good to go then. " His voice was cracking, and he clenched his teeth to stop from saying anything foolish. Most of all, he avoided looking at Bee.

"Remarkable that your scientists have figured out Sam's condition in such a short period of time," Ratchet commented, crossing his arms. "And what is their diagnostic?"

"From what I was told, it's biological, something you passed onto this poor boy and it could be infectious to the rest of our species," Galloway answered. "That's why we are asking for your immediate departure from our planet."

"Hey whoa, you callin' us diseased?" Mudflap exclaimed.

"Rude weasel-faced pasty punk ass!" Skids spat.

"That's a lie and everyone here knows it," Ratchet replied. "Even our radiation does not cause harm to your molecular structure."

"You robots don't seem to be getting the point," Galloway chided. "We are asking you to leave, the reason shouldn't matter."

"We're not leaving without Sam," Optimus stated. "When we leave, we will take all knowledge of us as well." He loomed over the Advisor menacingly. "I told you once, your species would only suffer with our technology, and I was right."

"And I asked you who are you to make that judgement for us?"

Optimus frowned, "Who are you to make this decision for your entire planet? You have not shown us any authorization from your president or any other world leaders. If we leave, the whole world will voice it." The towering Prime shoved a finger against the limp man, causing him to fall onto the floor. "NOT only you!"

Galloway's face reddened with anger and Sam began to fret. If this man freaked anymore, bad things were going to happen really fast. He stood in front of the sputtering Advisor and looked up at Optimus.

"Look, you just need to go, all right? Don't ask any more questions, just do it! A lot of people are getting hurt because of us..." He looked at Will and Robert. "And not just soldiers. This has to stop, Optimus."

Prime halted and stared at the boy. Where was this coming from? He didn't object as Bee stepped towards the pair, wanting to know what was wrong. Bumblebee gave a low moan. Did Sam hate him for what had happened between them? Was that why he was ordering them to go? The younger Autobot started forward to his human.

"Bee get out of here!" Sam screamed. "Just get the hell off this world and don't come back. You've only made things worse." He felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He had to protect him, he had to protect everyone. This wasn't the best answer to their problems, but it was the only one he had been given.

"Sam-" Optimus started.

"-Look, the government's going to work on my arm and everything will be back to normal, how I wanted it to be. There's hardly any Decepticons left and I've been told we've got some sort of new weapon that's going to make sure they either leave or die, so...just go, okay?" Sam gritted his teeth as he felt Galloway pat his shoulder.

The Advisor stepped forward, smugly. "You see? The boy's right. We are grateful for your services thus far, but we don't need you now. Your presence here is causing more damage than help. We can take care of our own."

"The boy's transformation is beyond your technology," Ratchet sneered. "It is even beyond ours. What is happening to him is cataclysmic and he needs us to stabilize his energy fluxes."

"You'd like us to believe that, wouldn't you?" Galloway countered. "From what our scientists can determine is that this is a pathogen and it needs to be studied."

"You foolish man!" the medic snapped. "He is becoming an anomaly none of us can understand!" Ironhide stepped forward and grabbed his companion's shoulder in warning.

Optimus had been watching the boy throughout the ordeal and his blue optics narrowed. This wasn't right. This was a set up. "I would like to speak to the boy alone," he stated, eyeing Galloway harshly.

"Sorry but that's not up to you or me," the NSA said with an oily smile. He walked over to Sam and looked at him. "Son, do you have anything else to say to these...beings?"

"No," he replied quietly. "They should just get out while they still can."

Galloway beamed. "You see?"

Optimus frowned. "We will leave and return to our base, but we will not leave this planet until all your world leaders deem it necessary. Autobots, let's get ready to leave." Prime shifted back into his Freightliner form and rolled out of the massive hanger. The others followed suite, all but Bee who looked at Sam with a forlorn expression.

"Why?" he asked, using his actual voice. When the boy walked up to the grieving bot, Bee knelt down.

Sam looked at him then, his iridescent eyes watering. "Make sure you get Mikaela out of here." He placed his mutated hand along the mech's face. "Bye, Bee."

"Let's go," a guard ordered, shoving Sam away. "You've got a doctor's appointment."

Sam tensed and then his shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned without another glance to his friend and left the hanger. The yellow Autobot felt so many emotions tear through his system. Rage, confusion, bitterness, sorrow, but overshadowing all of them was the profound sense of pain. It was if his Spark had been ripped from his circuits. Loss.

This wasn`t right.

Bumblebee joined his brothers outside on the facility`s tarmac. All were quiet even though there was much to be said. Tension grew like festering rust as they waited for the authorities to finish with Mikaela.

Oddly enough it was the silver Stingray that spoke first. "This is not right, Optimus," he stated, relishing as the armed soldiers became uncomfortable with the Cybertronian speech. Their former N.E.S.T. allies had been ordered to report in and the Autobots had a feeling they would not be seeing them soon. "These humans are up to something."

"I know that," the freightliner replied almost snappishly. "My hands are tied. There is no way to retrieve Sam without harming more human lives. Sam knew this and asked us to leave."

"I'm sure the kid wouldn't mind if a few of their asses got torched. Seemed to me he wasn't too fond of them either," Ironhide commented lightly.

Before Optimus could reply, Ratchet spoke, "Optimus I say this as a soldier, a scientist, and your friend. Despite whatever reservations you have against taking action against these humans, Sam must not be left in their custody. I know you know what these creatures are capable of. They destroy each other without a moment's hesitation and create such evil it's almost equivalent to our own. It seems intelligence is a precursor to genocide."

"They are also creators of beautiful things as well," Sideswipe commented.

"What? Art, science, philosophy?" Ratchet asked, sarcastically. "Those things have as much significance as an ape using a stick to draw termites out of their nest."

"Love."

All of the Autobots stilled and focused on the parked Camaro. Optimus grimaced internally. He regretted dealing so harshly with his old friend, but the laws were strictly enforced for a reason. His circuits froze at the thought of what would happen to this species if It came. No, humanity would not endure that horror his civilization had created, he would make sure of it.

"I'm truly sorry; Bumblebee, but I must order a retreat. Even if it is a momentary one." The semi's engine growled as Optimus prepared to leave. "Sideswipe, you and the twins wait for Mikaela and the other human, and then join us at the carrier. Immediately," he added.

"These three will be waiting for Ms. Banes," Optimus informed the armed escort. "Once they witness she is being safely transported to her home, they will comply." The soldiers nodded and followed the rumbling Autobots, weapons raised. Only a small squadron stayed to watch the remaining bots.

"Man, this is some straight up bullshit!" Skids snapped.

"Word."

"I don't like it either, but you two have no authority to undermine Optimus," the stingray reminded. "Right now, a retreat is the only peaceful tactic."

"Peaceful my ass! We're running away like pussies."

"Speaking of pussies, where's that fairy Leo?"

"Probably chattin' it up with one of the trigger happy meats."

"Hittin' it up, more like it."

"Enough!" Sideswipe snapped, feeling his processors grind.

"Chill man, we love little fro head."

"Not as much as Bumblebee likes the conquering hero," Mudflap snickered. "We should get him his play date back."

"I feel for the guy, ya know?"

"Yeah man, it's been a long time since I had my Spark jumpstarted too."

"We'd be cock-blockin'-"

"Gettin' in the way of his booty call!"

"Not cool, man!"

"You two are disgusting," Sideswipe sighed, but he did agree with the main point of what the twins were saying. They had to free the boy from those despicable humans. He was never one for disobeying Optimus, but in his opinion, their leader was moving a bit too slow in the rescue process.

"Why don't one of us stay here like a total spy and scope the place out?" Skids suggested. "That way if those punk ass Decepticons show up, we'd know right?"

"There's no way the humans would allow it. They'd know we were sticking around for just that purpose," Sideswipe argued.

The twins weren't revered for their quick thoughts or problem solving skills, but stranger things have happened in the universe than a solution forming in their collective minds. "The midget Decepticon!" they both yelled in unison, causing the soldiers to brandish their weapons.

"What?" Sideswipe sputtered.

"That creepy little Tyco the chick has hanging around her all the time-"

"-He could stay and snitch!"

"That's...actually a good idea," he admitted. The silver warrior only hoped to Primus that his scanners could pick up the former Decepticon's signature. The military compound was surrounded by a weak magnetic field, but it still presented an annoyance to their communications. He sighed with relief when he sensed the small droid. He was near, coming out of the south end towards the trio.

Sideswipe opened a private com link. "-Droid. You need to stop your procession and stay in the building. You have a mission to remain undercover and forewarn of any attack on the base by Decepticon forces.-"

"-No freakin' WAY!-" Wheelie answered angrily. "-I'm not leaving my human to go play hide 'n seek in this deathtrap!-"

"-This is of the utmost importance! It's to protect Sam. I'm sure the girl will greatly appreciate your help...-"

The link was silent for a moment and the silver corvette prayed the miniature bot was considering the task. "-I don't see Optimus' consensus on this order.-" Wheelie pointed out. "-I'm assuming the big bot doesn't know about this?-"

"-That's right,-" Sideswipe sighed. "-If he thinks it might endanger any of the humans, he'd call it off.-"

"-Yeah endanger humans, but not me!-" The com went quiet again. "-All right, I'll do it, but not for you dumb Autobots! And if there's any sign of heat, I'm outta here, ya got that?-"

"-Understood. And thank you.-"

"-Ah, blow it out your exhaust!-"

"He's in," he informed the twins.

Both vehicles revved their engines as a group of humans emerged from the southern bunker. Sideswipe recognized the two younger ones. The female was looking over her shoulder, concerned.

"God, I'm glad to be out of there," Leo cringed.

"Aw, didn't like the anal probes, pansy?" Mudflap commented switching to English. Skids laughed as Leo's face scowled.

"Where's Optimus and the others?" Mikaela asked, getting to the point.

"They're already at the hanger awaiting shipment," Sideswipe answered. "We're being sent back to Del Fuego."

"What?" she snapped.

"You're being sent home as well," he continued.

Her bright eyes hardened. "And where's Sam?"

"Still in the compound. And that's where he's staying, for now," he said, ignoring the glares from the soldiers. The corvette's driver door opened. "There's a devise on the driver's seat. Please take it."

Mikaela bent down and glanced into the cab. Lying on the leather was a small metal object, looking very much like an alien rubix cube. "What is it?" she asked.

"A beacon of sorts. We aren't going to be able to keep tabs on you as you travel home and to ensure you arrive safely, Optimus instructed I give you this. If for any reason you feel threatened by the humans transporting you, open the top and touch your finger to the censor. We will receive the transmission and won't hesitate leaving human custody to help you." He conveyed the last sentence with a warning. The armed guard continued to glare at the docile vehicles.

"What about Sam?" she asked grimly. "I'm not leaving him here."

"We have our orders, we are all to leave. Don't worry; I'm sure he has at least one friend in that complex."

Mikaela glanced discretely behind her. Wheelie had abruptly told her to put him on the ground as they were leaving. One of the soldiers had said if she left the toy, it'd be thrown out, but the small droid had told her to leave him. Wheelie was hardly enough to take on an entire government station equipped to take out his larger friends. She bit her lip; she'd just have to trust them.

"All right, is there any way to contact you guys once we're home?"

"I'm afraid not, but we will get in touch with you soon."

She nodded, hating being left in the dark like this, waiting. "All right then. Leo, let's go."

"Wait, what? We're just gonna leave Sam in there?" He yelped as Mikaela roughly grabbed his hair, dragging him away. The two teens were quickly followed by their escort.

"Move out!" The CO ordered the three Autobots.

Sam felt like hell. He was alone. The Autobots would be flying out back to base any second now, while his two friends would be heading home. "Please," he whispered. "Please keep everyone safe." Whether he was talking to Optimus, God, or the unknown being residing in him, he was unclear. All he wanted was for everyone to be okay.

He was back in the empty room, only the large one way mirror to keep him company. Sam dejectedly shuffled over and looked at his haggard appearance in the reflective surface. His face was losing pigment and the flickering lights underneath his skin were now making their way up his neck. But it was the pair of eyes in the mirror that frightened him the most. They were glowing like cat's eyes in the low lighting, giving off a subtle violet glow. Inhuman.

'God, what am I turning into?' he cried internally. His right arm suddenly felt like it weighed a ton and he slumped to the cold linoleum, crossing his legs. He recalled the entity telling him that he would be transforming, if you wanted to call it that, but the process was becoming unbearable.

Every time Mikaela or Leo looked at him he felt like he was an extinct animal at the zoo. Pity, awe, and worst of all; fear. Either for him or of him, Sam didn't know or care.

"Ugh this is so stupid!" he yelled, punching the floor. A splintering crack echoed throughout the room and Sam glared at the broken ground petulantly. He looked up suddenly as a warning beep sounded before the door to the empty room opened.

Sam's eyes narrowed as one of the men in black from before entered. He looked outside hastily before closing the door and turning his head towards Sam. The man walked to the exact center of the room and placed a small object on the floor. A bright red light sputtered on and a high pitched wine assaulted Sam's ears.

"Sorry, kid, but it's to scramble the audio and visual cameras in the room. Otherwise," the man grasped the top of the mask and pulled it off, "they'd be able to see me."

Sam's eyes widened comically. "W-what the hell are you doing here?" he shouted.

Simmons hushed him. "You want the entire frickin' building to come bargin' in here? By all means keep shouting your head off!"

Sam scrambled up off the floor. "Seriously!" he hissed. "What the hell, you with these assholes? 'Cause I got half a mind to punch you in the face right now!"

The older man's face softened. " Nah, after Jordan I got reinstated. Though this isn't anywhere near Sector Seven, it's my way back in."

The teen looked at the soldier incredulously. "Back in...?"

"Hello! To the government, to studying your little alien friends!"

Sam's face hardened. "And me. If you haven't noticed here, I'm the one on the slab waiting to be cut up and put in a Petri dish. So no offense, but fuck you." He walked back to the mirror and slid down the wall.

"Look, kid I didn't know they were gonna do this, okay? And I swear to you I'm gonna get you out. You're in for a world of hurt if we don't hurry up."

"What do you mean?"

"Ya you know they were going to do tests on you, but get this; I snuck into the research lab. They got some hoity toity physicist down from Europe to stick ya and see what comes out! "

"Joy," Sam sighed. "Well not to put a hole in your grand scheme, but if I don't play the good little lab rat, they'll go after Optimus and the Autobots. Galloway told me they've got some stupid 'super weapon' they'll use to shoot them down. I have to stay put no matter what."

"NO! We don't have any super weapon!" Simmons sputtered. "That was all bullshit! Kid, you're here because they want to get their super weapon...from you."

Sam's face fell. 'No.'

Unbeknownst to the Autobot convoy being loaded onto the aircraft carrier in the facility's port, a being replayed what had been said by his former brothers and began to organize the information.

'So the Allspark is renewing itself in a Human, now?' it pondered. How odd. The creature stilled out of principle as a line of military vehicles sped past him. He was unconcerned that they would detect him. No one ever could. After the party rounded a bend in the highway, the Cybertronian rolled out onto the pavement, the air's photon particles shimmering as he moved. He remained in a low gear, cruising along the winding road, still running his processors frantically. If Optimus didn't move quickly on getting this human away safely, he feared the Decepticons would take the initiative.

"Always fighting," he growled. Well he would have no part of it this time. But he knew someone who would want some 'action'.

...Opening Com Link. Cybertronian ID verified.

...Initializing transmission.

"-What? I'm a little busy here!-"

"-Be ready to make our move, the Decepticons will be mobilizing any day now.-"

"-...About time!-"

A/N: I'm getting excited because soon I'll be introducing new characters and one of my faves. I don't think he's used in any other BeexSam story which is a BONUS :3 If he is, well I haven't exactly been on here to read any other stories.

I'm well aware that Devastator was actually a Constructicon team up, really I doubt Sam knows of their (or the Dinobot's) existence, so thus he refers to him as a Decepticon. (=

Oh and I was thinking of replying via the REPLY button on reviews now, just because I feel like responding to them in the story is like...cheating on my word count? If that makes sense? Lol. I just go "whoo" 4000 words and one quarter is responses DX.

I wanted to get this chapter out so you guys had something to read on the weekend. I'll try to get the next chapter out for Tuesday but I can't make any promises, although I'm scheduling Tuesdays as update days. Basically leaves me Friday as a hard core writing day and the weekend to fine tune. Maybe it'll get bumped to 2 days a week, we'll see. =P

~Jenn