For the first time in... ever, Sam loved Megatron. Adored him.

And all because he'd left, leaving the small, ragged human with the giant robot he'd thought he'd never see again.

"I thought he killed you," Sam was saying, voice almost awed, as he kept reaching out to touch the side of Optimus Prime's face, as though afraid if he didn't, the other would disappear. He felt kind of ripped apart inside, like a scar that had long healed over had been ripped back open, but when the new skin was ripped out, it took more of the old skin with it than the original wound had.

"I thought so too." Optimus was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and the confusion and hurt were evident in his voice. "I assume he must have saved my memory."

"He can do that?"

"We are much like your computers, in some senses. Our memories can be saved. He must have kept my spark. Rebuilt my body." There was a slight whirring as Optimus turned his head so that he could face Sam properly, though it was nearly impossible to tell whether or not he was, what with the fact that his eyes were essentially headlights. "He appears to have done so wrong. I cannot move the rest of my body."

Sam winced, reaching up again to touch the glass of Optimus' eye. It was hot, the skin on his fingertips searing as he touched the surface of the hot light. "I don't think he wants you to escape."

"I would be difficult." Optimus agreed. "I cannot transform, either. Are you in good condition?"

Sam shrugged. He had no idea, honestly. He was alive. Beyond that... he looked a wreck, for sure, what with long curly hair and sparse, occasional facial hair that still hadn't grown well or completely. Clothes were pretty much non-existent, other than rags of what was left from before. And bling, of course, fucking robotic bling.

He hadn't seen a mirror in years. There were some, on the cars he made his nest in, but he sure as hell didn't want to know what he looked like in them.

"Good enough. Are you all right?"

"Affirmative. Though unable to move, as mentioned before." Optimus looked around the room they were in, servos whirring and hydraulics hissing with released air and compressing water as he did. "I do not understand why Megatron would bring me back."

"Naw, me neither," Sam admitted, carefully clambering up onto the giant robot's chest, sitting on what would have been his collarbone, were he human, and looked at the other thoughtfully. "I don't get it. He's taken over the world, right? What's that got to do with bringing the guy who almost stopped him last time back to life?"

"He kept you around." Optimus pointed out.

Sam shrugged. "Sort of. Not really, though... I mean, they kinda... ignore me."

"Hum. Isn't that good?"

"Sure, but bling?" He tugged at the necklace, which beeped in anger, and dug its claws in. "This is annoying."

"Of course. But you live. You cannot be revived as I can, with the Spark. You are made of flesh, not metal."

"I know, I know, I'm a meat puppet." Sam snorted, smiling for the first time in longer than he could remember. It actually hurt to smile – he could feel his muscles crinkling up at the action. It had been so long since he had actually smiled like this, it felt like his skin was cracking as he did. "Not supposed to be broken, or I won't fix. Still. I'm glad you're all right."

"As am I." Optimus said sternly. "What of the others?"

Sam shook his head, curling in a loose, foetal ball on Optimus Prime's chest, closing his eyes as he relaxed on the warm, slightly vibrating metal. It was a comforting feeling, being warm and safe. Even if Optimus couldn't move to protect him, lying there still felt... safe.

"Sam?"

"They're gone." Sam answered with a calm that would have scared him, years ago. He wasn't even sure he noticed the dead flatness with which he responded now.

"He destroyed them?"

"Yeah." Sam squirmed a little on the metal, slowly relaxing. "I'm tired."

"Sleep then. I shall watch."

Sam nodded, wearily, and for the first time in a long time, fell into a deep and, most importantly, dreamless sleep.