A/N: I know it's been a while and those who have seen the update to Harassment or the new story A Prime's Duty that I have posted have already heard my reasons, but I'll repeat them again. I took an unintentional, decade-long hiatus from writing in general due to a combination of many things. I finished college in 2013, but while there I had an asshole creative writing professor who destroyed any confidence and joy I had in writing. I fell into a deep depression before even finishing college and after a decade of that and this year being freaking ridiculous, I'm back. I figured 2020 is shit enough, why should I make it worse in myself by continuing to put myself down enough that I can't even enjoy writing like I used to? Fuck what anyone thinks because I could die at any moment, especially with how this year has turned out. So, now I'm back to writing fanfiction in the hopes of practicing my writing enough to get better with my original works and also because I really enjoy writing them. Since I am attempting to improve my writing, updates are slower but will definitely not take years again. I just work full-time and also babysit nearly every day (I live with my sister, I have no choice there and I don't even get paid), so finding time to write and also edit is difficult. I do have the next chapter and some scenes for other chapters already written, but I'm starting with a (hopefully) weekly update for now until I get further ahead.

A/N: One more note, as I believe the events with the Fallen and the Primes (17,000 BC) is too closely followed by the arrival of the Allspark (10,000 BC), the Fallen originally arrives on Earth about 80,000 years earlier. For such a long-lived race, the expanse of time between those events was just too short in my opinion. Unless there was some-sort of time distortion/space bridge crap going on (which is possible), but I don't even want to attempt dealing with that.

Chapter One

...It is, and always has been, your destiny. The words of the Primes echoed in Sam's head in a perpetual intonation of their mechanical whirs, clicks, and warbles. It had taken the fifth repeat of the memory through his anxious mind for him to realize that the Primes had not spoken to him in English, but in their native tongue of Cyber. His thoughts tried to scatter and swirl around to the multiple reasons that could have caused this development, but like the fine grains of sand that irritated his wounds Sam ignored them and focused again on the meaning of the words. It was difficult; however, he had spent the past two years coping with the steady advancement of his intellectual capacity and the past few days with the incremental advancement spiking to leaps and bounds, so he had plenty of practice. Destiny... Just that word caused multiple images and branches of thought to burst into his mind and he winced. Placing a shaking hand briefly on his temple to ground himself, Sam flinched at the contact with his burned and broken hand and forced his straining eyes to stare at the Egyptian city walls that hid the fate of his world.

The sounds of battle were a dull roar in his ears and Sam absently wondered if he would be shot again, but the images that briefly flashed in his mind at this possibility were so few that he dismissed the thought. Most of the Decepticons that had joined the battle were already offline or would soon join their comrades if they failed to escape. Ironhide was always thorough, ever since he had lost comrades to a not-so-dead Decepticon back in Iacon. Sam clenched his teeth at the knowledge he shouldn't know and tried to focus. The contact with the Matrix of Leadership had done something to him and accelerated what the Allspark had started, and Sam knew this time whatever it was could not be ignored for long, but he was his mother's son and stubbornness was his middle name. A warm hand squeezed his own and Sam focused on the feeling of the body of his best friend leaning against him, the weight familiar and comfortable, and he gave her hand a small squeeze in gratitude before a feeling at the edge of his awareness drew his attention elsewhere.

The chaotic hum that had grated at his senses ever since the Fallen's arrival was snuffed out so quickly that the sudden absence of it was startling and the silence was briefly overwhelming. The familiar hum of his friends' sparks entered the silence and Sam zoned in of the lights of life he could sense and not see, hidden in their spark chambers as they were. It was an ability that Sam had subconsciously been aware of and that he figured was a result of his contact to their source of life two years previous. However, it had gotten much stronger after he had been zapped by the sliver. Optimus's spark hummed full and bright, stronger and slightly different in its familiarity, the echo of Jetfire's energy encasing the spark signature in a quickly-fading protective field. The familiar power of Megatron's spark signature had been imprinted on Sam since the moment he had destroyed it, energy burning at his hands, and so he could feel it leaving the battlefield alongside another, who could only be Starscream. Odd traces of the Fallen's spark signature were fracturing off the retreating sparks and the chaotic energy that spiked through their sparks seemed to be stabilizing before they finally left his range. Something screamed at him that this was important and everything about it mattered, but the thought was pushed to the wayside as Optimus came into view.

Familiar blue, battle-scarred armor glinted in the Egyptian sun in an inspiring image as Optimus gazed upon his remaining comrades, the extraneous parts provided by Jetfire falling to the wayside to be collected later. Sam made a mental note to speak to Ratchet about Jetfire later before he gave a weak, relieved grin towards his alien friend as Mikaela wrapped her arms around him. His attention on Optimus's nearing spark energy became peripheral but not forgotten at the reminder of her presence. Turning his attention to his beautiful and stubborn girlfriend Sam wrapped his own arms around her in an embrace and squeezed, chuckling softly as she squeaked and lightly smacked an uninjured part of his arm. The action caused him to scan his numerous injuries and Sam was impressed at Mikaela's ability to find a place to hit without injuring him further, but her time spent under Ratchet's tutelage during the summers had apparently not gone to waste. The cranky medic was great at teaching someone how to aim a wrench and not cause further injury to the patient. Anchoring himself mentally and physically using the warm, familiar presence of his loving girlfriend, Sam catalogued the injuries he could see and consciously feel.

His arms were a mess of cuts and second and third degree burns. Skin flaked off in parts, the meat of his arms glistening in the sun beneath the blood and sand that irritated the injuries further. His back, neck, and arms felt like they had been placed in a sand filled meat grinder before he was duct-taped back together to a barely-alive state of being. And his bones ached where the Primes had somehow hastily healed him to where his body would function, the healed joints and tendons sore as he subtlety stretched his aching shoulders in the confines of the embrace. Cuts and burns gleamed in places with the bright silver that matched the Matrix he had died for and a brief frown touched Sam's lips before a small hand lightly grazed his neck, causing just enough pain to grasp his attention as fingertips were placed strategically on his cheek and jaw to avoid further injury, gently forcing his gaze down into worried blue eyes. The pain of his injuries and the burning itch that traveled through his veins with every loud thump of his heart flared to a crescendo before chapped lips met his in a welcome distraction. The press of her mouth against his and the feeling of being alive to express such emotion caused him to nearly feel overwhelmed as he directed gratitude out into the cosmos to the Primes that had brought him back. He was alive.

"Sammy!" His mom's shout broke the barrier of muted sound around them and the noise of the world outside his small radius roared to life with a pounding headache to accompany it. Feeling his ears pop as he maneuvered his aching jaw around, Sam spared his mom and dad a smile, leaving Mikaela's embrace to accept theirs. "Oh god, my baby boy, I thought you were dead..."

"I mean, I was, but you know I could never leave you for long Ma," Sam joked and jerked slightly away from Mikaela in preparation for a hit she never delivered. The promise was in her eyes however and Sam pulled her into another kiss to distract her, absently waving at Simmons and Leo as they strode over. His dad spluttered before turning to his mom as she wailed slightly and dove to pull Sam and Mikaela both into a group hug. "Ow, ow, ow, watch the... well, everything! Dad, please get her. I'm fine, I promise!"

"Oh no, you brought this on yourself with that joke," Ron stated as he joined in the group hug, only to let out a small exclamation of surprise himself as a still slightly hysterical Leo joined in the hug as well. Simmons stayed back and shared a disbelieving look with Sam over Leo's shoulder. Huffing a laugh Sam relaxed and ignored the pain as he enjoyed the feeling of his loved ones surrounding him.


"Well, I won't say you're doing fine," the medic, John, drawled out in a deep southern accent. "However, passable for now considering you're no longer dead. There will be more tests done once we have the proper machines because the x-rays we've tried are having trouble with your left arm for some reason." At this John gestured to the scans still up on display. The bones glared white on the sheet, dense and thick and a little off color in the places where they had broken upon his death and been healed. Hairline fractures still lined parts of his ribs, but the most worrying part was the darkness that defined the area where his left arm was supposed to be. Sam figured his broken fingers would've been displayed there if they could have, but instead it was just a static filled black, which enveloped his whole left arm and part of his shoulder. Another x-ray image showed the healed bones of his leg, which Sam assumed had been damaged when Grindor's blades had cut his leg after Optimus had separated them from their during the fight that had been merely days ago. The leg had been damaged enough Ratchet had feared he would lose it, but luckily the stitches had held through everything and the adrenaline and pain medication combined to make the pain dull enough to ignore during his time on the run. Sam has also been a fast healer ever since Mission City.

"Now, I won't ask what mumbo jumbo happened because we all like you, kid," John stated as he stood and tapped the x-ray display. Sam felt a rush of relief at that because he had feared that the medic would pass the information of his strangely healed injuries onto people that would want to experiment on him. He had enough problems during high school when goons were investigating his rising grades and tried to confront him, not that anyone other than Mikaela knew of those instances. A full ride scholarship to Princeton was influenced by more than him saving the world, although the condition of no one being able to revoke it was influenced by only that fact. "However, whatever it was that brought you back did nothing for the flesh-wounds, so you need to make sure to take care of those. I'll be giving you more of that salve for the infection on your leg and more of the stuff for your arms. You'll be on antibiotics and pain meds for a while and I want you to be on-time with taking everything. And try to keep doc-bot away from your injuries for at least a few days unless you want to become his newest project." They both shared a wince and a tired grin at that.

"Agreed," Sam said as they both stood, John matching him in height, and Sam frowned at that. He could have sworn that he had been shorter than the N.E.S.T. medic the last time he had been treated after an accident involving freshly waxed hallways and a wall. "Did you shrink?" He gave a nervous chuckle at the outburst and awkwardly tried to run his good hand through his hair, but the stiff bandages caused him to abort the movement. His arm hung in the air for a moment before he pulled them both to his sides. "Sorry!"

"It's alright, Sam," John chuckled out as he grabbed the x-rays and stored them in a manila folder, which he promptly held out to Sam. "But no, I didn't change in height, I'm not that old. Looks like your resurrection from 6 minutes of death came with a growth spurt. I would say I'm surprised you didn't notice but those borrowed clothes were probably a poorer fit yesterday morning and we've all been distracted." He waved the folder insistently and Sam grabbed it with confusion.

"What...?"

"Standard procedure regarding you, no records left for stooges to find." At this point John was already hovering over the controls of the monitors, systematically destroying any evidence to Sam's odd injuries. "So don't lose those and keep them safe. I want to compare them with newer x-rays later on. Then we can destroy all of it."

"Wait, you've been dealing with them too? And why is this standard? I'm nothing special!" Nervously crumpling the edges of the folder in his hand, Sam fidgeted in place before he slumped back down on the hard exam table. The room was too small to pace since they were still on an air carrier. And he wasn't leaving without answers.

"Nothing special? Bud, you're alive right now when you really shouldn't be." At this John stared at Sam and the folder in his lap with a meaningful look. "And the bots have their conditions with you, but if they haven't spoken to you about them then you really need to speak with Prime. He might be assuming you already know. Wait, what do you mean, 'too'?"

"Uh..." Knowing he had rambled himself into a corner, Sam slumped further where he sat. "Well, I had some people bothering me because of my grades and stuff after Mission City. I mean, I was careful and made sure that it looked like I achieved the grades with more effort than it actually took, but I guess they didn't have that much faith in my studying skills. To be fair, until I had to get those A's for my car my studying habits were pretty shit."

"Dammit," the older man grumbled as he rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "Anything else I should know? No sudden superpowers or crap like that, right? Just the government goons that you failed to mention in the past two years?"

"Well..."

"I was kidding! Shit, anymore, kid, and I'll have to bring Will in and then he'll have to bring in Prime, who will then get Ratchet, and then we will never get to sleep." He slumped into his own chair again and Sam felt guilty at the additional stress he was bringing on everyone. "Oh no, don't be feeling guilty, I'm not dealing with another reprimand for being too blunt. Plus, there's not really much to feel guilty about. I've been here since nearly the beginning and I don't think we ever actually asked you about any changes. Pretty sure we were just leaving all of that to the Autobots because we had no clue how to go about dealing with all this crap. Just..." He sighed and leaned back in the chair, eyes drifting to the ceiling. "Just tell me. We can sleep when we're dead. Well, I can, I don't know about you anymore."

"Hey!" Sam spluttered as a laugh burst out of the medic's lips and a wry grin was flashed his way. Although he was still processing everything regarding his revival, Sam could still appreciate another person that coped using humor and he gave a small grin of his own before speaking again. "Anyways, I was just gonna say that although the pain meds are top-notch for everything else and not Ibuprofen like last time, it kinda feels like my veins are on fire right now. I mean, I can deal with it, but you wanted me to tell you about anything else. I wasn't going to tell you at all, but since apparently I can trust you with my medical records I figured why not." He was not going to tell him about the ability to sense sparks - that would be a conversation to have with the Autobots and maybe Will, but medical stuff he didn't mind sharing.

John frowned at the words and seemed to think for a moment before he slumped even further into his chair. "Well, I can't help with that with what we currently have. I know I said to avoid doc-bot, but you might need to bring this up with him. His scans are better than what we can manage. Just do so at your own risk." Rubbing at his face again, John waved towards the door as his hand fell. "Go on, out. I'll deliver the medicine to your room later. Make sure to read the instructions and contact me if you need clarification or anything else pops up. My cell number will be written on the instructions. Don't worry, it's encrypted up the wazoo and only used for N.E.S.T. medical matters."

"So I can just go? No Will or Optimus?" Sam was already off the table and edging his way to the door as he spoke. As personable as John was, Sam felt he was nearing the end of the man's good humor, and after so many hours cooped up in the room Sam was more than ready to get outside and to fresh air. He also wanted to check on his friends. Although he could sense the sparks of his alien friends and the frequencies seemed stable, he would feel better with a visual confirmation that they were all alive and well.

"No, I'll debrief the Major myself once you leave and he can decide who else needs to be spoken to. Feel free to save us some hassle and pass this all on to Prime though, so when we do speak with him it'll require less clarification. Just make sure to be careful where you speak." Sam nodded and fiddled with the door latch, a sense of relief flooding him as the narrow hall was revealed beyond. "Don't trip." Sam promptly tripped over the raised lip of the doorway, although he caught himself fairly quickly, and he gave the medic a glare when he chuckled out an 'I told you so'.

"Thank you, for everything," Sam said as sincerely as he could before he left and the man nodded and gave him a small smile, hands already reaching for his radio to call for Will. The door closed behind him with a click and Sam was left to navigate the ship with only the vague direction of up to go by.

It took him around thirty minutes of getting lost, struggling with the door latches and tripping over the raised doorways, and promptly getting reprimanded for not sealing the doors behind him by passing soldiers before he gave up and asked for directions. An unfamiliar soldier led him up steep stairways and a couple ladders before he was finally graced with the bright sun blinding his eyes. Blinking away the tears the light had caused, Sam muttered a thanks as the smirking soldier left and turned his attention to the hulking figures of his tallest friends.

Bumblebee gleamed in the sun, color still bright despite the scuffs from battle and the Egyptian sand that covered all of them. Sideswipe stood next to the yellow bot, silver just as bright where it peaked out from beneath the grime, and was speaking to him in quiet whirs of sound. The fighter swayed with the motion of the ship and occasionally had to adjust his stance as his wheeled feet shifted as well. A dark blue servo tapped the silver bot on the leg from where Jolt was crouched trying to fix a fussing Skids' knee joint under the gaze of a hovering Mudflap and Sideswipe glanced down at his comrade before he looked over at Sam, bringing Bee's attention to his charge's presence. Bee chirped a goodbye to his friends and hurried over to Sam, eagerly lifting the boy and running a quick scan over him.

"Nice to see you too, Bud," Sam laughed and only winced slightly as Bee held him a little too roughly. Sometimes in his eagerness his friend forgot that Sam was more fragile than his other comrades. "Careful though, I don't want Ratchet after you." Sensing shame from his friend, Sam patted the servo holding him consolingly. A quick sorry from somewhere on the radio came from Bee's speakers and Sam waved off the apology quickly. "No worries, you know that.

"Anyways, how is everyone holding up?" Bee gave a so-so gesture and held Sam up to where he could look at everyone for himself. Feeling slightly ridiculous at the height, Sam gave a cursory glance around and noted that everyone except for the femmes seemed to be accounted for. Ironhide seemed to be discussing something with the soldiers and Sam saw Will moving away from the group and down below deck. A flash of yellow in a corner told Sam where Ratchet was and he could only assume that was where the missing femmes were. He knew that two of the femmes had been hurt pretty bad in the fight and he could only sense two sparks in that corner. Ratchet and the slightly larger frequency of a femme. Sam wasn't yet familiar enough with his ability to distinguish which femme still lived, especially since he had not spent much time with the newer arrivals and from what he could tell their sparks were eerily similar, but he still felt the loss acutely. Any Cybertronian life lost was a waste at this point. There were so few left. Sam didn't know how he knew this fact, but he was aware of just how much this now pointless war was destroying an entire race.

Bee placed him back down on the ground after a moment and gave an apologetic warble, tapping his helm to indicate he had received a comm, before hurrying over to the corner where Ratchet was working. Mikaela hurried around the corner briefly, gave a nod to Sam at seeing him, and turned around and back to her place at Ratchet's side once Bee reached her. Feeling a slight worry, Sam focused on the sparks in that corner and felt the femme spark weakening slightly. As he focused he could almost see the sparks as if they were in front of him and Sam watched, fascinated, as Bee's bright spark seemed to reached over what had been a barely visible thread previously to a slowly thickening, glowing line that connected to the femme spark.

"Sam?" The voice came from beside him and Sam jumped as he realized Sidewipe had somehow managed to walk up next to him without Sam's notice. Sensing amusement from the silver bot, Sam blushed and felt shame for intruding on what had to be a private moment unintentionally. Despite the limited range of their expressions on metal faceplates, Sam could sense the question in Sideswipe's look and he shrugged, wincing as the motion agitated his injuries. Nodding at the non-answer, Sideswipe continued speaking. "Optimus said he'll meet you at the front of the ship. He seems to think me some kind of courier-bot." Ignoring the last sentence grumbled in a language he shouldn't be able to understand, Sam nodded and muttered a quick thanks before he turned to start navigating his way towards the ship.

Twenty minutes later Sam stood staring at the setting sun as it glittered on the shifting ocean, the sight calming and a welcome reprieve from everything that had happened over the past week. It felt as if the sun was setting on a chapter in his life and Sam worried briefly about what the next chapter would bring before he forced his mind to blank and just enjoy the breeze and the calming scenery. The familiar groan of metal and whirring of gears alerted Sam to Optimus's approach as clearly as the bright spark humming with life that greeted his new senses. Knowing that spark chamber was filled with the light and soul of his friend and no longer guttered and dark made his smile widen as he looked up in greeting.

"Thank you, Sam, for saving my life," Optimus said in his deep and soothing voice and Sam felt warm at the gratitude he could practically feel from the Autobot leader. He shivered as the memory of his friend dying in that forest crept into his thoughts, spark chamber exposed and optics dimming further at each passing second, and forced himself to think instead of Optimus's resurrection. The feel of the matrix digging into his hand and the power it contained burning with a fury as he stabbed it deep into the empty, hastily patched spark chamber. The feeling as Optimus's spark traveled from the Allspark connection within him and through him and back into its original body, flaring into life in the empty chamber and enveloping Sam in its power. He still felt a slight connection to the spark of the one beside him and he wondered briefly if Optimus felt the same or if it was just imagined on Sam's part. No indication was given as to whether he did or not and Sam was not eager to have many conversations in the future, that one included, and so he did not bring it up.

"You're welcome." Always, never again would Sam fail him. "Thank you for believing in me," he replied, remembering his selfish actions at the graveyard where he had met Optimus and had denied granting the help his friend had been seeking. Optimus had known somehow that Sam would be able to help, although Sam suspected it wasn't in this capacity. He briefly wondered if Optimus had known their destinies were intertwined or if he had just had faith him, but the answer didn't matter. He had believed in him despite any misgivings Sam's actions should have invoked, giving up his own life to save him, which Sam had willingly done in return. A comfortable silence fell between them as they both returned to staring at the ocean and Sam glanced up at Optimus as his gaze turned skyward and a transmission was stated aloud in Cyber.

"Our races, united by a history long forgotten, and a future we shall face together. I am Optimus Prime and I send this message so that our pasts will always be remembered, for in those memories, we live on." The message was broadcast for any remaining Autobots in the cosmos to receive and Sam couldn't help the excitement he felt at knowing the Autobots would remain on Earth, and with him.