Summary: Sam is forced to cope with one more loss.

Warning: Spoilers

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Any song lyrics used in this fanfic are property of their respective owners.


Two days after the battle with the Decepticons, Sam found himself curled up in his Camaro with Mikaela's arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders. Bumblebee was desperately flipping through radio stations, trying to find something that would cheer up his human charge, but the boy was unconsolable. He was even on the verge of tears.

"Sam," Mikaela begged. "It's not the end of the world."

"Yes, it is!"

"Sam," Optimus said, approaching slowly. He knelt beside Bumblebee and peered at the two humans through the open window. "I am truly sorry for your loss, and I take full responsibility. This . . . this never would have happened if . . . "

"Optimus," Ratchet interrupted. "You can't blame yourself. Megatron . . . "

"We cannot blame the Decepticons for our own wrongdoing."

"This isn't fair!" Sam exclaimed, throwing his arm's around the front seat and burying his face into the leather. "I can't . . . I can't believe . . . "

"We feel the pain of lifetime lost in thousand days. Through the fire and the flames, we carry on!"

Mikaela gently massaged Sam's shoulders, her eyes casting a grateful glance at Bumblebee's radio. He certainly was trying. He'd been through about twenty-some different songs already, and he still showed no signs of giving up.

"I don't think I can carry on, Bee," Sam admitted tiredly.

"Sam!" Mikaela exclaimed, losing her patience.

"Well, what do you want me to do, Mikaela? Just forget about it?"

"Crying into your Camaro isn't going to change anything!"

"It's making me feel better," he muttered into the leather.

"We are the ones that will make you feel better, someone to spare when love is the only end. We are the ones that will make you feel better."

There was silence for a long moment. It seemed that Mikaela and Bumblebee finally managed to calm him down. Everyone waited in the tense silence, watching warily as Sam's grip of the seat loosened. Mikaela felt some tension leave his shoulders.

"Sam?" Ironhide dared to ask.

"HOW COULD YOU BREAK THE GLASSES?" he suddenly screamed.

"Oh, no," Mikaela groaned, slumping into her own seat.

"Someone finally made a bid on those, and now they're gone."

"Sam, I am very sorry," Optimus insisted.

"Gone!" the human repeated, sobbing. "All gone . . . "

"You have other items on eBay," Ratchet reminded.

"But no one else made any bids on those!"

"And how would you know?" Mikaela asked, rolling her eyes. "You've been out here all day."

"That's . . . " Sam's eyes widened. "That's right! I haven't checked my account in hours! Bumblebee, you gotta take me home right now!"

The engine sounded suspiciously like laughter, but the Autobot pulled away from the cliff and returned to the road.

"Optimus, sir?"

"Yes, Ironhide?"

"We'll never understand humans, will we?"


A/N: I'm sure others have thought of it. I was bored and thought it would be fun to write.