Story Notes: This story takes place after the events of the 2007 movie. It disregards the other movies. I've had this story on a very slow brew in my head since the first movie, so the other movies simply don't fit. Also, while I am on summer break now, I will be starting college again in a little over a month, so updates may not be very frequent as my muse shrivels up and dies. I admit I was a bit taken by Barricade in the first movie, and in the end of the movie we don't really see what happens to him (open to interpretation?), so I kind of took it and ran with it. Subsequently, Black Dragon Queen's amazing story 'Cover Me' inspired me to make it a legit Barricade/Sam story, so you have her to thank for that!

This is my first venture into writing in this fandom! I've seen all the Michael Bay movies (I don't entirely love them to be honest) and I watch the shows and I'm really just a big old Transformers nerd. I hope I don't muck it up too badly.

-:-

Five months, twelve days, nine hours, thirty-six minutes, six seconds since Mission City; since the All Spark was destroyed, since Megatron died, since Starscream fled, since the balance was momentarily restored.

Not that he was counting, or anything.

Had Barricade been aware of just how dull Earth was without a war to keep him occupied, he probably would have succumbed to his injuries after Mission City and let himself offline for good. He was bored. Unfortunately, however, his survival mode had been a little too keen to keep him alive and he instead fixed himself up as best as he knew how. His other problems could wait, indefinitely, probably. He was in no hurry to find a medic. Unfortunately he was still fairly flattened, and had taken to a level of paranoia over the Autobots discovering him that would have made Megatron proud. He did need a medic if he was to be fixed properly. Naturally, the only medic he was aware of within the nearest solar system was within an uncomfortable proximity to him, and an Autobot.

Unable to safely exit Earth's atmosphere and leave the planet behind, Barricade instead tried to make the best of his new prison.

Cruising the streets at night to scare speeding teenagers that were trying to get home before curfew quickly grew old. Stalking dodgy neighborhoods and popular teenage meeting spots also dwindled into a cheap thrill after about a week, so Barricade had had to scrounge up a new pastime. He quickly found one, a both exciting and dangerous one that managed to adequately satisfy his thrill-seeking streak.

Watching the Witwicky boy.

He became so obsessed with this new hobby that he began stalk the human for unhealthy amounts of time. Most of his days were spent tracking the boy, memorizing his schedule and anticipating delays or changes, researching his friends and family, and otherwise keeping tabs on him. He had to be exceedingly careful with his new hobby so as to avoid attracting the attention of Bumblebee, who was extra protective of Witwicky now that he had been appointed as the boy's guardian. Bumblebee was with Witwicky at all times, much to Barricade's annoyance. He soothed himself by viewing the Autobot's presence as a challenge, rather than a hindrance.

The possibility of getting outed as the last living Decepticon on Earth to a group of bitter and gun-happy Autobots, however, did not deter him in the least. He secretly thrilled at being able to observe the boy without either him or even Bumblebee being any the wiser. He took great pleasure in being able to completely mask his presence from Bumblebee, and even the other Autobot's when they were around. Ratchet in particular had very sensitive scans that could easily pick up on Barricade's aural fields if he was not careful. But, oh, careful he was, and careful he would be until he had formed a plan.

After the first week of successfully trailing Witwicky without any the wiser he began to feel the first stirrings of self-doubt. It was too easy. Perhaps they did know he was there, trailing them at all hours, but let him make a fool of himself by saying nothing. Then, they would corner him and catch him at an opportune moment, where he would realize it had been a trap all along. Or, maybe, hopefully, they really were hopelessly careless.

Perhaps they had allowed themselves to relax with the knowledge that Starscream had left Earth for now, but that didn't mean all of the Decepticons had left. Granted, most of the ones that had been present at Mission City were now very much deactivated. Barricade was not. He was almost hurt that the Autobots forgot about him so quickly. Or they thought he was dead too. He sneered at the thought. They underestimated him. They always had.

So, while his processor whirred with countless plans and probabilities about how best to deal with his current situation, he continued to watch Witwicky for a few months. He watched him over the human's summer vacation, a disgusting excuse for laziness and hedonism. He watched as Witwicky and the Banes girl went on a few perfunctory dates. Then they stopped going on dates, but still spoke and spent time together and she, too, became ingrained in the Autobot's life. He watched as the boy went back to school to complete his final year.

Through all of this Witwicky and the Autobots remained apparently oblivious to his presence.

There had been a few close calls which further increased his paranoia. If they did not already suspect his presence, they would soon. Time was making Barricade lax in his careful watch of Witwicky.

There had been one moment, while Bumblebee had been driving Sam home from a night with his friend Miles, that was a terribly close call. Barricade had been following them at what he deemed a safe distance. He caught snatches of a conversation between the two, not listening too intently to what he believed to be idle chatter, when he heard a name he had not heard in quite some time.

"But when is, er, Prowl, was it? When is he supposed to get here?" Witwicky had said. Shocked, Barricade damned all caution and flared his receptors to more accurately hear their conversation. He hoped Bumblebee wouldn't pick up his signal. He needed to know this.

He immediately regretted his curiosity as Bumblebee, forgoing a reply, braked harshly enough that Sam was left choking against his seatbelt. Bumblebee had felt his signal worming into the conversation, just barely, but he knew what he had sensed. Bumblebee immediately fanned out his scanners to identify the source of the signal and Barricade barely had time to slam his vitals down to their lowest functioning degree while silently praying to Primus that Bumblebee wouldn't be able to detect him. Bumblebee had a rather gifted set of sensors, and Barricade was suddenly not so certain he could pull this off.

But Bumblebee didn't find him again. After several terse moments, with the annoying human repeatedly questioning Bumblebee about what the problem was, Bumblebee seemed to collect himself and drive them home again. Barricade slowly relaxed, letting out a gust of air from his vents in relief. He had narrowly escaped that time. He realized he had started getting lax in his little game and quickly resolved to be more careful from then on.

He had learned enough that night regardless. He cruised back to one of his many hidey-holes, an empty parking lot next to an abandoned second-hand store, and mulled over this new information. Prowl was coming here?

He hadn't gotten to hear when the Autobot would arrive. He didn't even know if Prowl would be alone or with others. Either way, it wouldn't bode well for any remaining Decepticons, especially scattered and leaderless as they were. Prowl had a mean reputation, though Barricade had fortunately never met him face to face. With Prowl arriving, the Autobots would have an advantage. Prowl was dangerous.

After that incident there had been a handful of minor scrapes, one involving the trigger-happy gunner. He had managed to worm his way out of all of them, though he didn't doubt that the Autobots were beginning to grow suspicious. More than one of them had detected his faint energy field, though he was quick to cloak himself until they were forced to write it off as an anomaly. He knew he was pushing his luck. If any of them thought hard enough, they'd remember there was still one Decepticon unaccounted for.

Between the narrow scrapes and watching Witwicky, Barricade was thinking. A lot.

He thought about both the Autobots and his own wayward faction, the Decepticons. He thought about his role in the war, and what he was going to do now that Megatron was dead.

He was more than a little surprised with himself when he realized he did not harbor any negative feelings towards the Witwicky child over the death of Megatron. There was maybe even a grudging respect that the little organic was actually able to offline Lord Megatron. If Barricade had been anyone else other than himself, he would even go so far as to say he was grateful to the boy. Intergalactic war just wasn't his thing anymore.

Barricade had never been a prominent figure in the war in the first place. He had joined the Decepticons on a whim, and because he had had – not friends, surely, but perhaps tolerable acquaintances – that had sided with Megatron. He followed them because he had nowhere else to go. He had regretted his decision ever since.

It wasn't that he wished he had joined the Autobots, no. He would tear off his left arm before he joined up with those goody two-shoes. Barricade just really and truly hated war. It was terrible, destructive, and utterly pointless. He was argumentative and negative by nature, sure, but he had never liked fighting. Then after joining Megatron's mysterious campaign to "better their world and the entire universe" only to be told he would be fighting for a living? He wasn't exactly thrilled. He found out quickly that deserting meant your head being taken by Megatron, as a trophy and an example to the others. There was nowhere to turn.

During the course of the war he had become even more bitter and closed-off than he had been on the streets of Cybertron. He deliberately made others uncomfortable in his presence, if only to avoid working in groups. He hated groups. One of the only mechs to see through his facade, and subsequently one of the few mechs Barricade could stand, was Frenzy.

Then they discovered both the Allspark and the frozen body of their leader were being harbored on a backwater planet called 'Earth,' and Barricade was given orders to find some inconsequential human boy and obtain a rickety pair of glasses from him by any means possible. When Frenzy offered to go with him, he did not object.

Earth, he found, was a disgusting planet. It's natural organic state was beautiful, perhaps one of the more stunning planets he had been on, wherever that natural state could be found. He particularly enjoyed viewing images of rainforests from the Web and studying its inhabitants, and longed to visit himself someday. The rest of the planet was covered with humans. Filthy, nasty little creatures who ate up the planet's resources and constantly fought with one another despite the astounding differences in their languages and cultures across the span of the globe. There was no peace, no harmony, and they spread like a disease. He was actually pleased the humans had such primitive technology – at least they couldn't expand into the solar system and tear that apart with their wars as well. He steadfastly ignored the voice in his head that pointed out the Cybertronians were already accomplishing that.

But then he had met the Witwicky boy.

Most humans were easy to figure out, as were many less advanced organics he had encountered before. Even some Cybertronians were as predictable as the universe was vast. Starscream, if we're naming names, Barricade thought. Humans had motives, schedules, and they tended to think along the same basic intellectual structure. They were selfish and worked towards their own singular goals, often stepping on the less fortunate to fulfill their own needs. The Decepticons had become much like the organics, though each one would take turns firing at his head for ever thinking such a thing. They were no better, but they liked to think their sheer intellect put them above organic creatures like humans. Barricade had to laugh at that. Samuel Witwicky, however, was none of those things. Barricade was a bit flummoxed by him, though he tried not to dwell on it too much. Sam was accepting, generous, perhaps a little dumb, but he was also terribly brave to risk his life for a race of aliens that had invaded his home planet. He wasn't the only human to be so, but he was the first one Barricade had met. He would be lying if he said he wasn't drawn to the boy from day one.

It would certainly explain why he was practically stalking Witwicky now.

And with all his thinking, Barricade's plan finally began to form. It grew exponentially over the weeks of stalking Sam, and when he finalized his plan, having exhausted numerous probabilities and algorithms for a good outcome, Barricade then simply had to wait.

He needed Witwicky alone.

It took a few uncertain weeks, as Bumblebee seemed to never leave the boy's side, but Barricade was patient.

Today was a good day for him. Bumblebee was off running an errand for Optimus, according to his eavesdropping of their conversation the night before. With Bumblebee out of the equation, Sam was utterly, blissfully alone.

It was a good day for Barricade because he could get that much closer to Witwicky and, hopefully, enact the beginning of his plan. He stayed out of the human's limited sight, but was able to hear every little detail of Sam's afternoon. He just had to wait for the right moment to approach.

The day had been rather boring so far, and Barricade's previous patience was beginning to wear thin. Time was becoming precious. The boy had gone to the lake with his squishy friends for a few hours, but he knew that if he approached Sam now the boy would run screaming for help and his cover would be blown. Barricade patiently kept his vigil nearby, shamelessly eavesdropping, though there was nothing of interest being said.

It wasn't until the other little organics had parted ways and Sam was left to walk his way back home that his opportune moment reared its beautiful head. He watched as a larger, more dominant looking male quickly corralled Sam against a tree, much to Sam's apparent dismay.

He cocked his audials towards their direction, eager to listen to their conversation.

"Where's your pretty car at, Wittiky?"

"None of your business, Trent."

"Listen, Willwicky," Trent started, completely ignoring Sam's mumbled 'Witwicky, asshole,' "I don't know where or how you got that car. I don't know why or how Mikaela is fucking talking to you, but I want you to know that you're still the same piece of shit you've always been. You're not special, and an expensive car and a trashy girlfriend won't help your status any. No one likes you, okay? You're a fucking joke. I know you're trying to accomplish something with all this, but just...do yourself a favor, man, and stop embarrassing yourself."

Something in Trent's tirade, or maybe it was his ugly grinning face, seemed to finally push Sam over the edge. He managed to roughly shake off Trent's grip on him before stepping away.

"Jesus, Trent. I know you want to blame me for making Mikaela realize that you're a piece of shit but have a friendly word of advice and get over yourself. Not everything revolves around you and your big-ass head. I'd never want to be anything like you. And she is not trashy," he spat before turning away.

Trent stood frozen for a millisecond before he made a sort of jerky move. Barricade knew the bigger male was about to attack. 'Time to shine,' he thought wryly before quickly edging out of his hiding spot and driving towards the pair.

He flashed his lights once, instantly catching Trent's attention as well as Sam's. Both boys paled, but for dramatically different reasons. Sam, bless him, was smart enough not to run this time.

As he pulled up, the hologram in the driver's seat turned to give a hard stare at Trent. "Is there a problem here, boys?" he said, and he distinctly noticed Sam shiver at the sound of his gravelly voice. He hoped that despite how trashed his alternate form appeared, the sight of a cop car would be enough to scare Trent off. It seemed to work.

"No officer, I was actually just leaving," Trent mumbled, taking a step back. Barricade's hologram nodded, saying nothing, and Trent took off at a fast clip towards his own truck, not even throwing a glance over his shoulder at the faux-cop. Barricade turned slowly to look at Sam, who stood frozen. He was staring, stricken, at Barricade, mouth open.

"Ladiesman217," Barricade growled, and any inch of color left in Sam's face was instantly gone.

"You're going to kill me," Sam squeaked. "I thought you were dead. Can't you wait? My mom is making my favorite tonight and I really had to tell Mikaela something important and I'm babysitting Mile's dog tomorrow and I really can't die right now, I have so much shit to do –"

"Ladiesman, " Barricade interrupted, and the hologram pulled his sunglasses down his nose just enough to look the boy in the eye. "Get in the car, please. There will be dire consequences if you do not comply."

"Oh, God," Sam groaned, fully aware he was likely signing his own death warrant, but he had little other choice. Barricade would gun him down if he ran, and likely take some other people out with him. With a last furtive glance around he did as he was told and opened the passenger door, which he vaguely noticed was heavily dented, and slid inside.