Rating T - Language and violence

Disclaimer - I don't own the Transformers, nor do I make any money from them.

Beta Read by - The insanely fast Okami-myrrhibis.

XxxX.

His Angel

XxxX.

Oh, God. This wasn't how it was suppose to end.

Diving around the corner of a building, he squatted down and tried to catch his breath. Every inhale set his injured side ablaze, as small stars twinkled at the edge of his vision. Coughing brought copper bitter blood to his lips.

Heavy footfalls echoed down the street. They would continue after him until their mission was completed. That was the way of these mechaniods; they never stopped unless they were off-lined. They never tired, or wavered. They were relentless, they never gave up, and they did not negotiate. Anything between them and their objective was quickly and ruthlessly dealt with.

He heard screams and the discharge of a plasma cannon. He didn't want to know who or how many had just died.

Shifting his position he peeked around the corner of the building. The Decepticons were less than a block away. Standing on shaking legs he tried to think, he had to have a plan if he hoped to survive this. He didn't know the area and had to rely entirely on dumb luck. Stumbling he moved to get as far away from his pursuers as possible.

Heading to an adjacent street, Sam pulled out his cell phone. There was one voice he wanted to hear before he died.

XxxX.

"Oh shit, 'Bee. Come on, anything but Polka. I'm sorry. Really, I'm sorry. I promise, no more joking around at the car wash," he pleaded, but a touch of annoyance was creeping into his voice.

The music within the Camaro subsided, and the dial on the radio switched to a classic rock station.

"You've got to admit, it was funny when you jumped like that."

The um-pas returned and at a deafening decibel. To add insult to injury the yellow Autobot rolled down his windows so anybody and everybody, within a four-block radius, could enjoy the soothing melodies of a maniacal accordion. Heads turned as they rolled slowly past a gaggle of co-eds. The females snickered and pointed.

He scooted as far down in the seat as he could and shielded the side of his face with his hand. Like they wouldn't recognize him, he had the cherriest and yellowiest ride on campus.

"Thanks, a whole hell of a lot," he snapped angrily at his friend.

"You're welcome, Sam," came the mech's jovial response.

Pulling into a parking space, Bumblebee turned the radio off. He would never admit it to his charge, but polka music made the servos in his head vibrate uncomfortably. As Sam gathered his books, the Autobot settled on his shocks and started running self diagnostic programs.

"Hey, 'Bee?"

"What, Sam?"

"Is there anything you would like to do this weekend? I mean, is there anyplace you'd like to go? You know, a drive-in or something?" the human queried.

"I was under the impression that Mikaela was coming to visit this weekend."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah, well…no. She isn't. She wants time to think about us, our relationship, and stuff. She said it would be better if she 'could be alone for a while to figure things out'."

The mech was shocked. What was there to think about? Sam and Mikaela were bonded in every sense of the word. They had shared…on top of him. How could she question that?

"I don't understand. You are bonded," he commented cautiously.

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We aren't bonded 'Bee. We aren't even engaged. We're dating. It's like, spending time together to see if you want to spend more time together. Right now, she isn't sure she wants to spend anymore time with me."

The young Autobot didn't know what to say. Sam's voice sounded like he wanted to cry, but the boy's expression was one of anger. Hurt. Sam was hurt, and his bonded had hurt him. To Bumblebee that was unconscionable. Bond mates never caused each other pain. One never betrayed the other. They trusted each other with their very sparks.

"Why would Mikaela not want to spend more time with you? Have you failed in some way?" the mech asked.

"I don't know. I don't think I did anything wrong. Everything was fine the last time we were together. I mean, we had fun and talked a lot about the future and you guys. I just don't know." Sam sat in moody silence for a couple of minutes. "I gotta get to class. Think about where we should go for the weekend."

Bumblebee monitored Sam's progress as the youth headed into the building. He was deeply concerned about the boy. The Autobot hadn't been aware of the boy's emotional suffering until now; that was a bad sign. The more upset he became, the more Sam hid behind laughter and flippant remarks. He had been very flippant the last two days. Bumblebee felt as if he had failed in everyway.

XxxX.

The traffic was appalling. Cars and trucks were crammed together, bumper to bumper. Heat from so many exhausts choked the air and distorted the air; creating wavy mirages. For a few minutes, Bumblebee longed to be back on Cybertron. These vehicles may of had different styling's, the day was far too bright and the exhaust fumes were corrosive; other that that it felt a little like home. He wondered if Sam would like to move to the city.

Sam, on the other hand, was miserable. The gridlocked traffic was starting to fray his already stressed nerves. He had tried to call Mikaela a couple of times and was sent to her voice mail. He wanted to talk to her. He needed to find out what had gone wrong. Was there someone else? What had he done? What could he do to fix it? Why was she ripping out his heart?

He had almost told 'Bee to turn around and head home. He wanted to track her down, wrap his arms around her and just ask, "Why?"

He couldn't do that. He had promised not to bother her for a few days. Give her time to think things over. Shit, he had already tried calling her several times. Flipping his phone closed he tucked it into his back pocket. Just because he was miserable and wanted to die didn't mean he couldn't have some fun with his closest friend.

"So, where are we staying?" he asked giving the steering wheel a falsely cheerful pat.

"Motel 6. It is within your financial means and every room is accessible from the parking lot. I hope you do not mind. I booked the reservation with your Visa number. It would not have been appropriate to tap into the limited funds the government has given us."

Sam chuckled. "That's okay. I don't think Optimus would approve of you using tax dollars for a weekend trip."

"No, he did not."

The motel was a little off the beaten path, but it was clean and there were restaurants near by. Not a four star, but Sam didn't think he would have to fight the cockroaches for his pillow at night.

He called his parent s to tell them where he was and to expect the charge to show up on the next bill. His dad was furious until he explained the situation with Mikaela. After that he was instructed to have fun, be safe and don't spend too much money.

That night was spent driving underneath the neon glow and taking in the sights. They drove by several night clubs and the Autobot wanted to know if he should park. Sam told him "no". Sam couldn't stand the thought of clubbing without Mikaela by his side. Truth be told, he didn't want to be here, but a pushy Camaro had insisted.

Finally, they wound up on high ground. It was an overlook meant for tourists, but by this hour, horny teens had taken it over. The view was breath taking as the sprawling sea of humanity spread out before them. The city's light breaking up the inky darkness of the moonless night.

They talked.

Bumblebee told Sam about Cybertron and some of the mechs he had known there. He talked about Arcee and wondered if she had survived this long. Sam listened. When it was his turn, Sam told about his grandmother and how she used to make oatmeal cookies and sing old songs from the Depression era, and 'Bee listened. They exchanged stories and experiences. To Sam it acted like a balm on his wounded heart. To know that there was someone who cared and didn't have to gave him a little solace.

A car pulled in beside them and two teens tried their dead-level-best to steam up the windows of a minivan. Sam had seen all he could stomach. He asked to go back to the hotel.

Laying on the hard bed, he flipped through the dozen or so channels that were offered to him. Nothing appealed to him, and any rented porn would show up on his parents bill. He tried Mikaela's number one more time. When the voice mail answered he hung up. Before he could set his phone down, it rang. He didn't even check to see who had called.

"Hello?" he greeted eagerly.

"Hello, Sam." responded the Camaro from the parking lot below him. "Would you mind if I went for a drive?"

He couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. "Oh…no…go ahead."

Muffled purrs of a well tuned, incredibly powerful engine could be heard fading away into the distance.

XxxX.

Sam opened his eyes to a semi dark room. He didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but he had, and with his clothes still on. The light from the sign outside was shining into his room. Rubbing his eyes, he tottered across the carpet to close the curtains. As he reached up to pull the cord, he glanced out side and froze.

Two massive forms were moving in the empty space between the hotel and the nearby Denney's. Sam jumped to hide beside the window. Pulling the Razr out of his back pocket, he tried to call his guardian. Nothing.

"No Service" informed the little phone.

"What the Hell? What do you mean 'no service'? I had service earlier!" he yelled at the phone while shaking it.

Glancing out the window again made his blood go cold. Two sets of crimson optics were staring directly at him. The mechs began moving towards the hotel at a rapid pace.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit," he repeated like a mantra. He was trapped in a box. Looking around, he tried to decide on a place to hide. It was too late. A shadow fell across the bay window of his room window. Sam threw himself against the outside wall and curled into the smallest ball he could, arms protectively covering his head.

Glass exploded around him as a monstrous fist shattered the window. The hand groped around the room blindly. It grabbed his duffle bag and squeezed it. Dropping the crushed bag, the hand upturned the bed as it searched for him.

He had been in close quarters with hostile, giant aliens before. He couldn't fight them, but he could run from them. Sometimes, small wasn't a disadvantage.

He bolted. Ducking beside the mechanical wrist, he leapt out the window, and ran as fast as he could along the balcony to the stairs.

The world shook as the wall behind him disintegrated. Stumbling, he stopped his fall and continued, never looking back. He was vaguely aware of an infant's cries and people's screams as they were awakened by the destruction.

He reached the stairs and didn't stop. Grabbing the railing he jumped over. Hanging on, his legs dangled freely and he prayed he wasn't about to break anything. Letting go, he dropped to the ground and rolled. Unforgiving concrete bit into his soft flesh as he impacted. It wasn't enough to stop the fear and adrenaline surging through his system. He barely felt it.

Quickly, he stood and continued running. He didn't know where to go, or what to do when he got there. The last time he had been running for his life, he had a purpose; get the Allspark to the extraction point, and be extracted. Now there wasn't an extraction point. He didn't know where Bumblebee was and didn't have any way to call him. Blindly he ran. The heavy foot falls behind him shook the ground and ripped apart the concrete.

Sam didn't see the car, and the driver of the car was too busy gawking at giant robots to see that someone was in front of his vehicle. The collision shocked both of them. The driver slammed on his breaks as a body shattered his windshield. Sam felt the air being knocked out of his lungs and the world turn furiously in the wrong direction. Sliding off dented hood he landed on his knees and struggled to his feet. Pain seared along his side, as he tried to move around the car.

Glancing back, the vision of two blood eyed, demonic, death machines overrode the pain and he started running again. The nearby restaurants and strip mall would offer some protection. Heading in their direction, Sam ran for his life.

Oh, God. This wasn't how it was suppose to end.

Diving around the corner of a building, he squatted down and tried to catch his breath. Every inhale set his injured side ablaze, as small stars twinkled at the edge of his vision. Coughing brought blood to his lips.

Heavy footfalls echoed down the street. They would continue after him until their mission was completed. That was the way of these mechaniods; they never stopped unless they were off-lined. They were relentless, they never gave up, and they didn't negotiate. Anything in their way was quickly and ruthlessly dealt with.

He heard screams and the discharge of a plasma cannon. He didn't want to know who or how many had just died.

Shifting his position he peeked around the corner of the building. The Decepticons were less than a block away. Standing on shaking legs he tried to think, he had to have a plan if he hoped to survive this. He didn't know the area and had to rely on dumb luck. Stumbling he moved to get as far away from his pursuers as possible.

Heading to an adjacent street, Sam pulled out his cell phone. There was one voice he wanted to hear before he died.

The phone showed five bars. Some days he really resented the way the Cybertronians could fuck with the best of human technology. Pressing number two on his speed dial, he prayed she would pick up.

"Sam!" Mikaela yelled at him through the phone. "Oh, God! Sam, are you alright? We are on our way. Loose the phone, they are tracking you with it."

The line went dead.

He looked at the innocuous device in his hand. The Decepticons hadn't looked in his direction until he had tried to call 'Bee. Where was 'Bee? Dropping the Razr, he crushed it under his heel. Setting off again, he wondered if the others would reach him in time.

He played a sickening game of Cat and Mouse with the Decepticons. He tried to stay out their line of sight and stay away from as many people as possible. These two had no qualms about killing everything in sight. Until now, most of the mechs from both factions had preferred to remain hidden; not drawing attention to themselves. Not these; they seemed to relish the chaos and destruction they were creating.

As Sam rounded the corner of a building, he realized why he had only seen one mech behind him. They had separated in an attempt to trap him between them. It had worked, and they were closing the trap around him.

An engine screamed nearby as it was pushed to its limits and a yellow blur shot passed him and launched itself into the white 'Con.

Bumblebee knocked the enemy mech off of his feet and they went down in a violent heap. Metal crunched as vicious punches were thrown by both assailants. The black Decepticon forgot about the target and moved to help his companion.

It was a brutal fight; two on one and each side determined to annihilate the other. There was noting Sam could do to help his friend and guardian. Bumblebee was on his own; trying to defend his charge and defeat the enemy intent on capturing the boy.

In one sickening moment the battle turned. A plasma cannon sounded and all three mechs went down in a pile. After a few seconds that stretched like eternity to Sam Witwicky; two mechs stood up. One the color of absolute darkness, and one the pure white of death.

Sam screamed. It was a primal noise filled with hate and denial. He started running towards the yellow mass lying motionless on the ground. He never made it to his fallen friend's side. A black hand snatched him up and threw him back towards the Earth.

He didn't land, he crashed. His life breath was forced from his lungs and the sharp snap of broken bones echoed in his own ears as the concrete rushed up to greet him. He couldn't move. He could barely breathe and shadows began clouding the edges of his vision. He refused to give in. He refused to let eternity pull him from this world, but there was so little he could do. He was one small speck in the cosmos and his passing would go unnoticed to all of the stars in the heavens.

He gave up. The shadows spread and darkened his vision. The last thing he saw were the Decepticons walking towards him.

XxxX.

Something pulled him back from the edge of forever. A soft touch. A loud noise. Managing to open his eyes, he witnessed a god armored in fire and sky beat back the opposite colored demons.

Forever would not be denied. The shadows crept back into his vision, and blackness swallowed him.

XxxX.

An angel called him.

"Sam. Sam. Please Sam don't do this. Stay with us."

Okay, he thought. I'll stay with the angles. They are where I belong.

He wanted to see the angel and her ethereal light. He wanted to touch the soft, feathered wings and let them tickle his fingers.

Opening his eyes brought pain. The light was blinding and intense, just like his Grams said it would be. "Heaven is not for the faint of heart. You have to be brave and strong. Honorable and honest to stand before God and the Heavenly Chorus," she would say after reading him stories from her tattered Bible. She had been right, but he had been none of those things. He didn't know why an angel had him and not the demons.

The light was overwhelming. It seared his eyes and made them water. A shadow fell over him and blocked some of the light. It was an angel; his angel.

She had dark hair and perfect skin. Her eyes were a pure, untainted blue. He was in love, a pure, perfect love. No stipulations, no jealously, just love. He could stay in the arms of this angel forever.

She was crying.

Tears cut wet lines down her face and fell onto him. He didn't mind; her tears might be able to take away his pain. She shouldn't cry for him. He was where he wanted to be. With her.

A darker, larger shadow fell over them both. It was the god. His blue orbs glowed with knowledge, understanding, and sadness. "It's alright Sam, we've got you," the god told him.

He knew it was alright. This was where, in his heart of hearts, he always wanted to be; in the arms of an angel, protected by a god.

FIN