TITLE: Guardian
SERIES: Imperfection, part 6
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
JDISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved



This one is not related to or to be confused with Encounter. Encounter was separate from the Imperfection fics.




Sam was running.

Legs pumping, heart racing, he was running down the empty street, cursing to himself.

It had been so stupid. Braindead and stupid!

Lungs aching he took a corner, almost sliding on the wet pavement.

Behind him, he heard tires screech and lights danced briefly over him.

With an almost desperate sob he tried to run faster.

He had lost his backpack already. He was soaked through and the rain was pelting him. He had lost his cell phone and his wallet and whatever else had been in his backpack.

He was running to stay alive.

There were triumphant yells behind him, engines revving, and he was suddenly pinned by headlights from behind. Taking a corner he headed down a dark road, totally lost, no clue where he was.

Tranquility. Worst part of town. Because of some stupid prank. Because he was naïve!

Sam had already called himself all kinds of names. Naïve was a kind word for it.

There was a sudden movement to his right and before he could react he flipped head over heels over a hood and landed hard on unforgiving asphalt. Stunned, out of breath, panting like he had just run a marathon – and maybe he had – he lay next to a dark car, gazing stupidly at the rubber tire in his line of sight.

Blue and red lights flashed. A siren whoo-whooped as if delivering a warning.

Sam heard a screech of cars breaking, curses floated over to him, then those who had been chasing him were gone. Throat aching, lungs burning, all he heard was the rain pelting on metal and the thundering of his heart. He was safe. The gang was gone. He was alone and freezing and soaked to the skin, without a phone or a friend, but he was safe. It seemed like an eternity that Sam managed to sit up, for the first time feeling the chilly rain. Part of him tried to tell him that there had been someone to save his ass, so there had to be someone there, and when his hand encountered metal, his brain seemed to grind its gears and finally let coherent thought through.

His eyes fell on the black metal and his heart missed a beat.

Adrenaline surged.

There was a sign just in front of him. It said police, but the sign was just wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong!

With a cry of fear he tried to scramble away, but his exhausted body was uncoordinated and barely hanging on to motor control. He managed to stagger-stumble to his feet, swaying, watering dripping into his eyes, but Sam knew he wouldn’t be able to run.

Eyes glued to the black and white car, he started to shake. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was fear, but it was all adrenaline inside him.

The police car was blocking his way and behind him was only a dark alley. Sam took a step away from the cruiser, swallowing noisily.

The passenger door opened.

Nothing else happened. No one got out. Part of him replayed that first time he had run into this particular mechanoid. He had been scared shitless; still was.

But nothing happened.

It continued raining.

Sam stared at the black and white Saleen Mustang, mind racing. He knew he couldn’t run. The other was faster. He knew he couldn’t hide either. He was trapped..

“Get in,” a deep, gravelly voice ordered.

Sam flinched.

Barricade had defected, he told himself. Barricade wasn’t working for the Decepticons any more. He was still bearing the symbol, but he had defected, right?

Right?!

Gawd, where was Bumblebee? Why hadn’t his guardian come to his help? He must have been aware of Sam’s predicament.

Or maybe not. Sam had parked the Camaro at the movie theater and who would have thought about the evening turning out like that?

“Get. In!” Barricade ordered. It was almost a snarl.

Sam inched away until his back collided with a brick wall. “How do I know you won’t kill me?” he stammered.

There was a sound like an electronic sigh. “If wanted to kill you, human, I would have already done so. I would just have to stand back and let the low life that chased you finish the job. Get in.”

Sam shuddered. “Why would you help me?”

Barricade rumbled dangerously. “If you prefer to stand in the rain and kill yourself through hypothermia, so be it.” The door snapped shut and Sam winced. “I believe your ‘friends’ are still around. They might come back to investigate.”

The Mustang started to pull away.

He was going to leave him.

No! No, no, no!

Sam wasn’t aware of blurting his protest out loud. The brake lights flared and the door opened again. He slid inside, shivering, dripping wet, puddles already forming around his feet. The door closed with a muffled click.

There was no hologram driving the car and Sam, despite his awareness that Barricade was the car, huddled against the door. If the former Decepticon wanted to hurt him, he would. And he could.
The police cruiser pulled back out onto the street and they quickly left the seedy part of Tranquility behind. Traffic joined them and Sam yelped when the hologram appeared. Cold, dark eyes regarded him, then the face turned back to look at the street. It was a cop. Uniform and all. Sam expected the eyes to flare red or something like it, but nothing happened.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked after a while.

“The Autobots value you. Your demise would reflect unfavorably.”

The hologram’s lips didn’t move and the voice really didn’t fit the human appearance. Sam knew what lurked underneath anyway and it was as terrifying as Megatron or Starscream or any of the other Decepticons.

“You weren’t the one chasing me,” he argued.

“Autobots tend to think emotionally.”

Ironhide would, he mused. Ironhide had it in for Barricade, would probably shoot him on sight if he could get away with it. Ratchet, while appearing indifferent, wasn’t too happy either. Bumblebee hadn’t commented on Barricade’s defection and Optimus was his stoic self. As for Jazz… well, you couldn’t go by his reaction at all.

“Why were you here?” Sam wanted to know, shivering a little.

There was no answer forthcoming. Sam wiped water out of his face. He noticed that the car was nicely warming up and it mildly shocked him that Barricade would want him comfortable.

Was Barricade patrolling the streets? If yes, why? He had no obligations to anyone and while the Autobots tried to be helpful – in a disguised and camouflaged sort of way – the Mustang didn’t strike the young man as the sort to do so, too.

And where were they going? Was Barricade taking him to the Autobot base? Home? Somewhere else? Maybe there was a devious plan in saving him… maybe… Sam felt his head starting to ache. He so much wanted to believe that this was with no strings attached, that Barricade wasn’t abducting him, but another part was still too terrified of the Decepticon.

“Bumblebee’s parked at the theater,” he murmured all of a sudden. “If he’s still there.”

“Your guardian was unaware of the ruse that lured you here.” There was disdain in Barricade’s voice.

Sam felt anger rise, the need to defend his friend, but he was too tired to really string coherent sentences together.

“You should learn not to trust so easily, Sam Witwicky,” he heard Barricade rumble. “It can get you killed.”

Yeah. Noted.

And the fear strengthened again.

“Was it wrong to trust you?” he asked softly.

Cold laughter answered him. “You don’t trust me, human. You fear me. Your bodily functions tell me as much.”

Sam swallowed hard.

“I won’t harm you. You are of no use to me.”

“You hate me,” he stated, cursing himself for this remark right away.

“Hate is an emotion that requires an origin.”

“I killed Megatron.”

Another laugh, harsh and dark. “For that I should thank you.”

What?! Sam blinked. Oh-kay… maybe he was losing his mind now. It must be the onset of hypothermia.

“You are in no danger from me, Sam Witwicky,” Barricade went on. “I will deliver you to your guardian.”

Really?

The streets looked the same through the rain and by leaving the downtown area and heading outside, Sam felt kind of lost. Maybe they were heading for the mall, maybe into the desert. He couldn’t keep his eyes open for much longer. The lack of adrenaline, his exhaustion, the warmth, it all played together. He was inside Barricade, the one who had tried to kill him – well, badly maim him – just months earlier. Now he was… what? Not an Autobot, but also no longer working for the Decepticons. Sam didn’t understand completely what it was that the Mustang shared with Jazz. He had tried. Bumblebee had told him that ‘lovers’ was too crude a word and that ‘partners’ didn’t fit it either. There was a bond, he had agreed with Sam, but it was no concept a human mind could grasp.

Whatever.

He was too tired to think. Too tired to be afraid. Just… too tired.



Barricade scanned the human huddled against the door of the passenger seat. Sam Witwicky was drenched, exhausted, bruised, and his mind was going into recharge, as was his whole body. Whether it was trust or just a bodily imperative that let Bumblebee’s charge fall asleep inside what he had to perceive as a threat, Barricade didn’t know. He maneuvered the streets, out onto the highway, heading for a place where Bumblebee was already waiting. The Autobot had been frantic to hear of what had happened.

He pulled onto the empty lot of the mall west of Tranquility. The yellow Camaro was the only vehicle in sight and when Barricade scanned the surrounding area he found no one. Bumblebee transformed as Barricade stopped.

“Wake up,” he said gruffly, trying to wake the sleeping human.

Sam moved fitfully.

“Wake up, human!”

“Sam?”

Bumblebee was kneeling next to the Mustang, peering inside.

Dark eyes blinked open blurrily, but the human showed no sign of waking completely. Barricade clicked the lock and let the door open slowly. Since Sam was leaning against the passenger door he toppled out, but in a more or less controlled manner, and the Autobot caught him easily.
With a gasp of fear the human grabbed for something to hold on and caught a finger from the hands cradling him.

“Bee!” he exclaimed, sounding relieved.

“Sam, are you all right?”

Barricade closed the door, startling the boy. He stared at the Mustang, still a bit perplexed. Barricade started to pull away.

“Barricade? Thank you!” Sam called.

He didn’t answer, didn’t stop, just left guardian and charge alone and re-entered the street.



Sam sat in the gentle hold of his guardian, gazing after the disappearing car. Darkness swallowed the Saleen and part of Sam seemed to relax a little more.

“Sam?”

“Huh?”

“Are you all right?”

Worried optics regarded him quizzically.

“Yeah. Fine. Just tired and sore and wet… and I lost my stuff. Mom and Dad are going to have a conniption.”

“We can find your things. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay. I was stupid and naïve.” Sam slid off the large hands and nearly fell.

Bumblebee placed a hand behind him, balancing the shaky boy.

“Thanks.”

The Camaro transformed back into vehicle mode and Sam thankfully crawled inside. They left the parking lot, heading home.

“Bee?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes, Sam?”

“Why did he help me?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not very reassuring. I mean, a few months ago he was ready to tear me apart over my grandpa’s glasses.”

“A few months ago things were different.”

“So you trust him?” Sam wanted to know, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Barricade wasn’t the enemy any more. He wasn’t a friend either, but he was… an ally.

“I trust Jazz.”

Apparently that was enough for Bumblebee. But was it enough for Sam? Barricade had had the chance to hurt him, maybe even kill him, but he hadn’t done anything but help him.

Bumblebee pulled up in the driveway of his home. Sam got out, his clothes clammy. He felt tired, exhausted, and still shocky. His parents weren’t home – they had gone to a highschool reunion of his Mom’s. Part of him wanted to stay inside Bee, another argued that a hot shower a bed would do wonders. The logical side won, but the emotional one was strong, too. In the end he followed logic, even if it was hard. But getting a cold because he was chicken didn’t sit well with him either.

The Camaro was a reassuring sight in the driveway.



Sometime throughout the night Sam woke to the deep rumbling of another engine. He crept to the window and just saw Barricade disappear from the driveway. His backpack, dirty and really abused looking, sat next to Bumblebee. The Autobot transformed, hidden by the night, and handed it to Sam.

“He found it?” Sam asked, still tired.

“Yes. Go to sleep, Sam. You’re safe.”

Sam didn’t know what it meant, only that his mind insisted he follow the sound advise. Curling up in bed, he wondered what was going through Barricade’s mind. He was helping him, a human. The one who had killed Megatron. He claimed he didn’t hate him, but how much could he believe in his words?

I’m still alive, Sam told himself. Barricade had had the chance and he didn’t take it.

He wouldn’t trust him like he would trust the others, but he was ready to give the former Decepticon a chance.

Ally, he repeated. Not the enemy.

And maybe, one day, he would be able to handle facing him alone.