Bits and Pieces of Transformers | By : Strailo Category: S through Z > Transformers (Movie Only) > Transformers (Movie Only) Views: 10228 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, the characters, the fandom or anything recognizable. I make no profit from this. |
Title: Inner Thoughts
Fandom: Transformers Character: Sam Word count: 1,043 AN: Ehhh, I don’t know. I listened to the song mentioned below and the such. Yeah. This is what you get because of it. Uchiha Mizuki: I will have more…and I’m glad you’re happy with what I’m writing. *beams* I’m working on things slowly…very slowly. Random bits just come to me. *nods* Kims: I have plans for those pairings. It’s just a matter of doing so. But I’m glad you like! I really am. If I Die Young is owned and sung by The Band Perry and their record company. Good song. Should listen to if you don't mind sad. *~*~*~*~*~* Sitting on his bed, Sam rubbed his hands together, not really hearing the music that came from his radio. He had gotten home after nearly 2 weeks on a military base, the fight at Mission City had been covered and the Autobots had their own base nearly 4 hours away. Sam couldn’t help but feeling a bit happy about that, brown eyes sparking with a bit of happiness before his matching hair fell into them, hiding them from the world. His wounds were healing, at least the physical ones were. But the mental and emotional ones that he had ended up with before, during and after that fight, they were still open and stung so much. Placing his hand over his heart, Sam gazed at the picture that he had sketched out. Not many people knew that he was good at portraits, but he was, having used it as a way to remember those who he wanted to remember. Not that he would ever show them to people. Picking up the sketch book, he smiled sadly at the portrait of a large gray mech. His build was bulky but still seemed to be so smooth, his smile easy and...not quite smug or arrogant. It showed the confidence that he had exuded without being overpowering. Sighing softly, he picked up one of his pencils and started to shade the picture a bit more. He could remember the way Jazzs gray coloring had shifted through so many shades of the color that it had amazed him. But his favorite memory came from the first time he had seen the large mech. Just the way he had seem so self confident in a way that Sam envied, the street lights dancing off of his armor had sent the young human into a need to sketch and draw. But he hadn’t had time until after they had fought and defeated Megatron. Until after he had run for his life with the cube. Until after he had shoved it into Megatrons chest. Until after Jazz had been torn in half by Megatron. Sighing as his phone beeped at him, he picked up the little phone and smiled as it flipped open for him. Something good had come from Sector 7; a little Decepticon that was loyal to a fault to him, Ratchet, and in an odd way, Jazz. The tiny phone had ended up dubbed Nokiacon and squeaked instead of talked, a mix of sparkling chatter and something that was uniquely his. Finding the text there from Bee, who was offering to take him to the base to see Jazz one last time before they did what they needed to with his body. It seemed that the Cybertronians had something akin to organ donation for their own kind. After a ritual of saying goodbye, they would find out what parts would be of use and then they would take them. But to do that, they had to put the bodies back together enough since they often did this around the All Spark. From what Bumblebee said about some of the stories, it had a habit of bringing their fallen back if Primus felt it wasn’t there time. Just because all that was left was a tiny piece of All Spark that Nokiacon guarded with a passion and the larger shard that was protected by Optimus didn’t mean they were going to give up tradition. Petting the small mech, Sam grabbed his new hoody and pulled it on, tucking Nokiacon into his pocket before heading downstairs. Sliding into his friend and car, Sam patted the steering wheel as he grabbed his IPod and set it on random, just slouching down. ‘If I Die Young’ filled his ears making him wince and rub at his thigh. Smiling at the start of it, Sam had to muse that Jazz would probably want to be sent away with a love song. As it continued, the young human found himself crying at the sadness that carried through. “Sam, why are you crying?” Bumblebee asked, making Sam jump and gaze at his Autobot symbol. “Oh, just a song. Would you guys like to hear it?” he asked softly, getting a chirp from the phone that had settled on one thigh in his crab like form. “Alright, alright,” he hummed, attaching his IPod to the stereo, the three falling silent as they listened to the song. “Jazz…would want music played wouldn’t he?” he asked finally as they pulled onto the highway. “Yeah, he would,” Bumblebee said softly. “We all chose a song for him. Why don’t you?” he asked. “Yeah. I think I will,” Sam hummed as they fell quiet, the young human occasionally flipping back to the song and a few others before watching the world around him fly by. Once they were there, Sam gave Optimus the song that he wanted to play and watched as each of the Autobots added a small log to a large bon fire. The flames danced and crackled as they ate at the sweet smelling wood. All the while, the songs played in the background, ranging from hip-hop to girlish like pop all the way up to classical music and instrumentals. Walking forward as his own song came on, Sam gazed at the body of Jazz before tossing his own log into the fire, sending his prayer that Jazz could hear the song that fit so well. He could feel a lightness fill him as he turned away. He knew he wasn’t the child he had once been. He knew he wasn’t going to have a normal life. He knew that there was every chance that he would end up dead at the hand of a Con. But for the moment, he was going to live life to the fullest. Because, after all, Jazz had done that, up to the very nanosecond of his death. He had lived with zeal and died a warriors death. As the sky split open and poured rain on them, Sam tilted his head and let his eyes close, the wetness on his cheeks being washed away. He would need to prepare for his probably future, but for the moment, he was a mourner, saying goodbye to a fallen warrior and friend.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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