Title: Rising Sun, Falling Star
Chapter Warnings: Foul language, reference to past sexual acts
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, the any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form. Basically, nothing you recognize is mine.
Chapter 1: Cassandra Syndrome
The future is called "perhaps," which is the only possible thing to call the future. And the only important thing is not to allow that to scare you. - Tennessee Williams, Orpheus Descending, 1957
Sam was being hunted.
The buildings of the huge industrial park were cloaked in darkness. In effort to conserve both money and power, few lights pushed against the darkness of the night, and then only in the places in which such security measures were deemed necessary. Unfortunately, these only served to make the shadows draping the buildings longer and deeper.
He moved quickly and silently through the rusted skeletons of old buildings, darting from shadow to shadow as the moon rose higher in the sky, his scales dappled with shades of black and grey in a mottled camouflage that would hopefully break up his silhouette enough so his pursuer couldn't get a clear shot at him.
The Decepticon was very, very good, as Sam's bleeding shoulder could attest. To make matters worse, he had lost track of the pursuer, no longer having any idea where he was but Sam had the creeping feeling that the 'con could his see him, though why he simply didn't end Sam's life if he could, Sam didn't know. Perhaps he didn't want to end this game of cat and mouse too soon. Swiveling his ears this way and that, Sam tried to find any clue; any sound that would give away the Decepticon's location was but found nothing.
Suddenly, deafening like a crack of thunder in a clear blue sky, there was the roar of a power engine and a familiar camaro passed through the alleyway between the buildings, the yellow and black paint job gleaming in the lower light. Relief washed through him as he followed, keeping to the shadows. As loudly as he dared, Sam called out, "Bee!"
Bee transformed into his bipedal shape without as he caught sight of Sam, battle mask in place and cannon armed. A now familiar whine of a cannon charging caught Sam's ear. Realizing the ominous sound was coming from behind him, Sam instinctively threw himself to the ground, bellowing for Bee to duck. The cannon blast whizzed by Sam, closed enough he could feel the heat but missing him.
But not Bee.
The world seemed slow as the blast slammed into Bee with a shower of sparks, making him stagger a bit, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. He stood only for a moment, frozen, touching the hole in his chest as if surprised by it as much as Sam was before toppling, his glowing blue eyes going dark before he hit the ground.
One thought came to Sam over the sound of a dragon's wail: he had never been the target, he had been the bait.
Sam landed in a heap, heart pounding in his chest as his lungs burned. He kicked whatever it was that he was tangled in on him off, crouching low to the ground on his hands and feet growling lowly in chest, his eyes taking in his surroundings, looking for the threat, looking for something to maim, to tear apart, to kill. In the soft twilight Sam could see the outline of a computer and TV, as well as other bits of familiar furniture, his furniture, his room. Slowly he sat down the floor, placing his head in his hands and took a deep, shuddering breath.
'It was a dream, a nightmare, it's not real, it didn't happen.' Sam didn't know how long he sat there, shivering and shaking; repeating that sentence in his mind like a mantra as he tried to calm himself down. Finally, his heartbeat slowed to a normal pace and Sam could think clearly again, he pushed himself to his feet. Quietly, so not to wake his parents, he crept down the hallway, noticing how bright it was in the house even though it was in the middle of the night. He opened the bathroom door, wincing at the squeaking of the hinges and went inside. He splashed some cold water on his face, trying to shake the feeling of foreboding.
"Bee will be fine; he's been fighting Decepti-morons since earth was a cloud of dust circling a baby star. He knows what's he's doing." Sam told his reflection in the mirror above this sink, who didn't look convinced.
The mirror answered the question of how he could see so well in the dark. His eyes looked black with only thin ring of color iris showing, the same green as in his dragon form and he was willing to bet money that if his pupil hadn't been dilated as it was, it would have been slit as a cat's. He also noticed that his skin had the faint ghostly pattern of scales.
Thanks to Ironhide's training exercises, Sam now had finer control over his transformations. Rather than just human-anthro-dragon, Sam could now alter little things, as he had done to his eye subconsciously, without a major change. It was useful, especially when he needed to be sneaky. Another benefit was that his body was losing its softness, his face was more angular and he was gaining long lean muscles. While he would never be able compete with Will or Bobby, who looked like they had started pumping iron in the womb, he no longer looked breakable and delicate.
It had been two years since the battle of Mission City and in that time, NEST (acronym for Networked Elements: Supporters and Transformers) had been created. It was an alliance of Humans, Paranormals and Autobots, teaming up to basically kick Decepticon aft. Having been tricked into accepting by a pretty pair of blue eyes (Bee), Sam's job title with NEST was Paranormal Mediator for the Autobots, which basically meant he got to try and explain Human and Paranormal behavioral quirks to the Autobots and vice versa.
Fun, fun, fun.
There were even talks of him being a sort of representative for the Autobots, since they couldn't be filmed in case of leaks nor could they fit into most buildings. Even though the 'bots had holomatter generators, it was thought that having an actual organic speak for them would be better, even if that organic wasn't human.
Sam had vetoed the idea, loudly, stating that he wasn't a diplomatic person and would probably succeed in starting World War III.
Regrettably, it was starting to look like he wouldn't have choice. In last few months, the number of Decepticon sightings on various continents of the planet had gone up. Currently, Bee was in China with NEST at the moment, tracking two newly landed Decepticons. Unfortunately, so not to put any more strain on the relations between dragons and the shape-shifting tigers of China, none of the dragons or tigers of NEST could come on that particular mission, meaning Sam was stuck a home, worrying about Bee.
He also had to deal with his parents, who were up to something. What it was exactly, Sam didn't know but he recognize the signs, especially in his mother. Even though most dragons were 'civilized' nowadays, they were still predators, ones that favored ambush tactics. He just knew she was waiting for the right moment to pounce on him about something.
Therefore, his nightmare was probably brought on by stress and his worry for Bee. When he was working with PARA, he had checked his parents' background. There were no precogs, clairvoyants, prophets, oracles, diviners or anything remotely like that in either side of his family tree. Well...that wasn't exactly true, at least not anymore. After Mission City, Sector Seven was disbanded and Sam was given the files they had on Archibald Witwicky. To say that he had been both troubled and pissed by what he had read was an understatement.
Archibald hadn't been insane after his encounter with Megatron, at least not at first. Megatron had somehow triggered a paranormal affliction called Cassandra syndrome in Archibald, a sort of precognitive schizophrenia, where the precog's abilities basically ran wild, warping the victims' perceptions until they could not longer tell reality from their visions. Sector Seven had known exactly what Archibald was suffering from and rather getting him treatment to help him manage his condition or at least make him more comfortable (for there was no cure) they had left him to rot an insane asylum.
To make matters worse, Cassandra syndrome was inheritable. While Ron Witwicky was use to the idea of inheritable metal instability, Sam was not. Being half-dragon protected him from most human mental illnesses but with Cassandra syndrome…having a paranormal bloodline actually upped his chances of developing the illness. While he told his father about Cassandra syndrome, he had left that part out and neither had them had told his mother.
The sound of the bathroom door opening interrupted his thoughts. Looked down he saw one of the tiny gargoyle babies, Cobweb, looking up at him with big sky blue eyes. While gargoyles were not the most beautiful species, gargoyle babies took it to the 'So Ugly Its Cute' level, somehow going past ugly as hell into the absolutely adorable. It seemed to be more pronounced with Cobweb, who was not only a runt but was completely white save touches of pink on her nose, ears, paws and wings.
He was going to kill Mojo one of these days, really he was. The bastard encouraged his kids to call Sam 'Auntie' since he was, according to Mojo, the 'girl' in his and Bee's relationship (and he found the name hilarious). Sam couldn't even appeal to Mojo's mate, Frankie since they called him Mommy.
Though how two boy gargoyles went and had kids Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Hey, what are you doing up?" Sam asked bending down to pick the little one up.
"I saw you were awake." She replied as she climbed onto his shoulder, "Didja have a bad dream?
"Yeah," Sam answered as he rubbed the soft skin behind her ear, going back to his room, "it was just a bad dream."
"Do you want me to sleep with you?" She offered, leaning into the caress as she stated solemnly, "'Cause petting gargoyles chases always bad dreams."
Sam could help but smile, she was picking up some of Mojo's habits it seemed but it didn't look like he was going to fall asleep again tonight and he could use the company, "Sure."
"When dawn alights the Dagger's Tip, the Three Kings will reveal the doorway….hit me baby one more time…"
Sam awoke from a sound sleep and half-remembered dreams of voices echoing over a vast desert with Cobweb nowhere to be seen. It took him a moment to realize that the voice of Brittney Spears that had woke him and another to realize it was coming from his cell phone on the nightstand. Jazz must have been screwing with his ring tones again.
After reaching for it twice a missing, he finally managed to answer it, grumbling into the phone, "Hello."
"Wakey wakey hands off snaky!" Miles' waaay too cheerful blasted out from the other end of the line.
Per usual, Brittney began singing again. "Did you hang up on me?"
"I don't know, did it sound something like this?" Click.
Miles didn't call back and Sam slipped back into a light sleep when someone started knocking loudly on the door to his room. Before he could tell them to go the fuck away, the door opened and Miles poked his head in.
"Dude, are you still sleeping?" Miles asked incredulously, coming into the room. "You went to bed at like three yesterday. I thought we were keeping human hour 'cause of NEST."
Sam's only reply was to make a rude gesture and burrow deeper under the covers. Miles then pulled the covers off him, "Come on, get up."
"Nooooo," Sam whined, curling up on his side and sticking his head under the pillow, "sleepin'…you go."
"Come on, whiny ass," Miles pick up the glass that was sitting on Sam's nightstand, dipped his fingers into water and began flicking it on Sam, "I will pour this on you and tell everyone you pissed the bed."
"'mm up, I'm up." Sam replied grumpily, rolling into sitting position.
Miles sat the glass of water back down as he stated, "You look like hell dude."
"Yeah, well fuck you too." Sam growled at him, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Aren't we grumpy?" Miles said, teasingly.
"Miles, unless you want flying lessons out my window, tell me what the hell do you want?"
"Well your mom seems to think you're moping-"
"She would know." Sam murmured.
Miles continued as if he hadn't heard him, "-Cause you miss Bee, so she called me to come over to get you out of your funk." He finished with a smile.
Sam just started blearily at him, wondering why the hell he had fought so hard to get Miles okay-ed to meet the Autobots because between him and Jazz, Sam was going to lose his mind. Miles then handed him a DVD of the 90's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie, "What the hell is this?" he asked.
"The movie we're going to watch." Miles explained as if it was obvious, "My granny got it for me awhile ago. I forgot I had it until after seeing the less human-looking members of the paranormal branch of NEST, Glen said something about quitting if the ninja turtles showed up."
Because Miles refused to take no for an answer, Sam soon found himself dressed and on the couch in the living room with him and since his parents were at the gardening store, they had the house to themselves.
"Raph looks like a flasher." Miles commented as Raphael fought the Foot in the subway, "I keep waiting for him to flash his other 'weapon."
"Well, he is naked under that." Sam pointed out, earning a weird look from Miles, "He is! They all are, I mean all they have on most the time are bandanas and utility belts for their weapons."
Miles studied the screen for a moment, "Where are their dicks then?"
"This is movie like PG-13. They're not going to be flapping in the wind."
"They're boy turtles, they should have willies."
"They're tucked between their legs, I don't know." Sam retorted, "Just watch the movie."
"Do you think they're in same place as normal turtles?"
"Yeah, that's what it is Miles, its auto-censorship. Now watch the movie."
They watched in quite for a few moments before Miles said suddenly, "I know! They had a trip to the vet-"
Sam threw one of the decorative pillows at him, "Okay, you are now officially disgusting."
"It's a valid question."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is!"
"No, it's a weird question."
"Dude you have sex with a car;" Miles pointed out, "You don't get to judge what's weird."
"I don't have sex with a car; I have sex with an alien robot." Sam responded before thinking. Realizing how it sounded, he tried again. "Okay let me start over. Look I have fully embraced the kinky side of the force-"
"The kinky side of the force?" Miles interrupted.
"Its south of the dark side, stay with me here, I have done many things that if my parents ever found out about half of them I would never be able to leave the house ever again. However, I draw the line at anything involving turtle peners or any other animal including lines of thought. So just watch the movie."
They went back to watching the movie again, but a few moments later Miles asked, "So would you?"
"With a turtle? Didn't we just cover this? No."
"With them, brilliant mind." Miles said, gesturing at the screen.
Sam thought about it for a moment before responding, "Sure, I'll try anything once. You?"
"Well, if April was involved I could be persuaded."
Again they sat in silence as they watched the movie. A few moments later Sam sighed, "I miss Bee."
"What, Rosie Palm and her five sisters not cutting it anymore?" Miles said chuckling heartlessly, "I know dragons have a high sex drive but damn dude, are you guys going for the gold in the bed room Olympics?"
Slightly offended, Sam replied, "We're not that bad."
Miles snorted in disbelief, "The hell you're not. You guy can't keep your hands off each other when you're together and you pine for each other when you're apart."
"Pine?" Sam asked incredulously, "Have you been reading romance novels again?"
"You guys have probably 'christened' every flat surface in the house." Miles continued. When Sam didn't answer, Miles yelped and jumped up, "Did you fuck on this couch? Eww, that's gross Sam!"
"No, we didn't!" Sam lied, they had actually, and the only surface he and Bee hadn't 'christened' was his parent's bed because that would be gross beyond all reason.
"I'm going kick your ass if I sat in dragon sperm." Miles snapped, brushing off his pants. Suddenly a tinkling melody from outside caught both of their attention. Miles raced out the door yelling, "Ice cream man! Ice cream man!"
"Get me something!" Sam called from the couch.
"Get your own Robo-fucker!" With a sigh, Sam got off the couch and headed to the door only to have Miles run into him, his face pale.
"Sam! The ice-cream truck's a Decepticon!"
I'm back! And I have a Deviant Art profile.
I have altered the timeline a bit to suit the ideas I have for this fic. I hope it turns out alright.
Thanks for reading!