(Disclaimer: I don't own anything Transformers I just play with them)

He panted as his legs carried him forward at maximum speed. He could already feel death's cold and clammy hands reaching for him through the darkness. His heart pounded against his chest threatening to explode if he didn't slow down soon, but Sam pressed on. He had to. Salty sweat burned his eyes as his goal drew closer and closer. Then suddenly…it was gone.

Fires burned around him as buildings exploded and crumbled into little bits of rubble. Sam paused staring in horror as his world literally crashed down around him burning just like the fiery red eyes that had haunted him for so long now. Was this his end? Was he meant to die like this?

A silent scream escaped from his throat as the fires subsided giving way to an endless black. He fell quickly wind whipping through his hair. The cold sting of it cut through his clothes making him feel as if he were wearing nothing at all. He could hear the demon's laughter in his ears freezing his blood.

Then the scene changed again. He was no longer falling into an abyss, but found himself lying on a bed of satin. Mikayla lay beside him stroking his bare hip. His eyes darted around looking for some sign of hidden danger or any indication this was a trick, but everything seemed normal. Peaceful even.

The teen relaxed into Mikayla's touch smiled as she crawled a top of him kissing his lips gently. He could already feel his bottom half stirring to life as she grinded against him. He returned her greedy kisses as he started to explore her body enjoying her warm smooth skin.

Then it changed again. Mikayla and the satin bed were gone replaced by a cold hard steel pallet. He sat up..or tried to. A large black strap crossed over his silver chest and arms. Wait…silver? A sudden panic rushed over him as he looked for anything that might give him a decent reflection finding nothing.

The clanging of approaching footsteps brought his attention back from his search as a black and white mech approached him. The mech looked full of regret as he reached to touch Sam's cheek gently. "Jazz, I'm sorry, but I had to do it. The autobot cause is more important than anything that could of ever happened between us…"

Inside his mind, Sam's flares went off. Had the mech just called him Jazz? The mech leaned over finally allowing Sam to catch a glimpse of himself in the white and black's mech waxed paint. Silver plating, clawed hands and audios, and of course the glowering blue visor was a dead give away of just who's body he was in. The only problem was…Jazz was dead.

Then 'Jazz' began to speak. Sam didn't even know where the words came from, but he did feel the anger and feelings of betrayal dripping from them. The silver mech's body lashed in his restraints as a growl escaped his vocals. "You slagging piece of scrap! You used me!"

The white and black nodded solemnly. "..Yes. At first…but I assure you. The feelings that I felt for you were real enough."

"Then why? Why would you do this? Frag the fractions, Prowl! We could of just ran off somewhere…together." Sam suddenly felt a warmth spreading through his hidden optics. It took him a few moments to realize what was going on…Jazz was crying.

"You know I couldn't do that…besides Autobots don't bond with Decepticons."

"Then what?…You're just casting me out like it never happened?" Jazz's visor slid up revealing his crimson optics. " I mean that little to you?"

"No…you don't understand. I would never give you up..not now. You are everything to me…which is why …I'm doing this."

Prowl turned picking up a large drill showing it to Jazz as he brought it towards the silver's mechs plating. "I'm afraid…this will hurt a lot, but its for your own good. You'll see. "

Sam screamed as he tumbled out of bed becoming tangled in his blankets. A dream…everything had felt so real. He panted as sweat rolled down his chest. " What the hell was that about…" he questioned himself as he untangled himself standing up.

He quickly checked himself over for wounds sighing in relief when he found none. "It was a dream..just a dream. Man, Sam," He chuckled to himself. "You have got to stop eating after midnight or you're going to end up in one of those mental clinics on Smith."

Sam sighed checking his clock for the time. 6:30. He still had a couple of hours before school. What a bummer…on both fronts. He grumbled something under his breath as he grabbed clothes from an accumulating pile, sniffing it. It smelled clean enough so he slipped it on before his search for pants began.

The brown haired boy didn't even jump as his room was flooded with a bright light. "Bee, have you seen my pants?"

The yellow bot stepped away from the window for a moment leaving Sam wondering if Bumblebee had heard his question at all. Well until he was hit in the face by said pants.

"Sam, next time, I'd prefer if you kept your pants on in my backseat, though I must admit seeing you run across your lawn in nothing but heart boxers was intriguing….especially when your mother turned on the sprinklers. By the way, Mikayla got home safely if you were wondering."

"Bee,…" said Sam giving his best friend a glare. "Sometimes…I hate you."

A smile crossed Bee's facial plating as he played a sound bit from an older Simpson episode.

"Ha,Ha, you love me."