This will be my 'new story' that I will be working on. Don't expect it to be very long, I foresee only a few chapters here too. This one, however, will be a full story with all plot points. The whole shebang... just in only a few chapters. I thought about making my 'new story' a new fandom, and I already have a fic picked out, but I am in the midst of doing a few drawings to accompany it. So here you are.

I hope you like it.

Sometimes I ask myself how I got here. Then I remember I died, I lived, I was disowned by an entire planet, kidnapped twice, proclaimed dead, and dropped into a pile of malfunctioning space bridge parts reminiscent of a time long past. After I remember that, I promptly decide that the journey doesn't matter. Because right now, as of this very moment, none of that happened.

It's April 16th, 2007, I'm seventeen, and I just bought my first car last week. It's a beautiful red Chevrolet that starts shaking over fifty miles an hour, has no air conditioning, and only gets A.M. radio. There's a suspicious dent in the passenger side door that makes it very difficult to open, and from what I can tell, the previous owner was a heavy tobacco smoker. However, the most noticeable feature about it is it's impeccable lack of being yellow with black racing stripes, and perhaps even more noteworthy is it's lack of being a Camaro.

I'm sitting in the garage, staring at this piece of shit like it's the most fascinating thing in the world because it's just a regular car. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with one of these things! I haven't actually driven in so long, my driving is as bad as it was when I first started. Which I guess is a good thing I only just got the thing.

Not that I care about this thing, I just want to know why it isn't alive. Going back in time, sure it's a little weird but I'm honestly not completely thrown off by that. I believe it. Mom and Dad are terrible at acting, and just looking at myself in the mirror confirms that I have successfully traveled back to my Junior year of high school. So alright. Time travel. Great. Now where is Bee? I got sent back right before I made first contact with the aliens, and yet as I scanned the parking garage with expecting eyes, I came up short. The parking place I thought I remembered him being in, which very well could be the wrong one anyways, was empty. I asked around, I tried to see if he'd in fact pulled into a different place, but I drove out of that parking lot without my best friend. And I want to know why.

"What do you know?" I asked the piece of shit as if holding an interrogation with a Decepticon. Not that this thing is sentient- which it isn't. But I just know this stupid car is responsible for my entire life suddenly getting derailed. Did my coming back here change something? Did I accidentally throw everything off? "Where is he?"

Unfortunately, the old vehicle I have thus decided to title 'Destroyer of Continuities'- or DOC for short -stubbornly refused to give away any of it's secrets. It just stared ahead with faded headlights.

I narrowed my eyes back. Is Bee on Earth searching for the glasses? Maybe he just didn't catch whatever lead brought him to me? Or maybe he found a different lead? Or maybe someone else came down to search and never found my eBay account? Or is it more serious, like they aren't even to Earth yet? If so, are the Decepticons here yet? Barricade? I haven't seen him, which I think I'd seen Barricade by now even without Bee trailing after me. Or worse yet, could it be that the Allspark isn't even on Earth? Or does this go even farther back causing repercussions in the present I can't even fathom?! Is it at all possible that maybe, they don't even exist here?

I started laughing, trying to dispel these ridiculous notions. By all means, any one of them could be correct, but I'm definitely over doing this right now. I have to stay calm and figure this out as best I can. Right now, I could attempt to find Sector Seven at the Hoover Dam, send a fake video like the one I had originally that brought me onto Simmons' radar, or simply try to contact them on my own terms from the comfort of this garage. I'm no good with technology, despite what Wheeljack and Ratchet had hoped to have been teaching me, but I could at least try to modify normal technology to hack the Autobot transmission frequency and send a message. I doubt it would work, since my communications node was commissioned into Autobot access, so the only transmission work I've ever done was on a node that had been initiated from the inside.

But I can't do anything in the middle of school, with this piece of shit car, and my parents breathing down my back.

"Sam? Are you in here again?" Mom poked her head inside.

I raised my head, not saying anything. I'm not sure how I feel about that aspect of this offset continuum. I suppose it's nice to have their ignorant company, because the last time I saw them before all this happened, they were pissed off at me and I'm not entirely sure I had the right to call them 'Mom' and 'Dad' anymore. Neither of them denied the nicknames, but it's more of a social thing. They ceased to play that role, to fill that image, or embody that feeling. They're more like two people that are generally disappointed with me that barely know me anymore, and when we see each other, we get a vague sense of recognition. I don't even feel obligation to maintain familial ties to them. I'm not rejecting them, and they aren't rejecting me, we simply don't keep each other in our hearts anymore. I guess this version of Mom knows as much about where I come from as my version of her does.

"No matter how long you stare at that thing, it isn't going to sprout legs and start dancing." She laughed, leaning in the doorway.

I rolled my eyes, imagining the twins dancing and knocking things over so bad Ironhide started pinning them against the wall just to make them stop.

"I've actually been thinking about this summer." I looked back to the car. About a month of school left before summer vacation. An entire month of grueling, painful school work that I can now, rather confidently say that will not help me in my life after graduation. I've literally done all of this already- though currently I'm going through classes that I'd missed while I was away with the Autobots. But I'd caught up on the work after I returned.

"What are you thinking?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I was thinking about taking a road trip."

"A- a what?" She nearly gagged.

"A road trip. Just for a week or so. I mean, I want to go out into the world and experience it before I graduate. It feels like all I know of the world is school, which is really deceptive. We grow up knowing nothing of life except in school for thirteen or so years, and I just want to do it while I still have this come back to afterwards."

She gave me a look that probably meant she thought I'd matured and grown philosophical over night. Which, while I totally believe it probably would help high school students to experience the world before entering it, I'm lying out of my ass right now. I want to go to the Hoover Dam, and I don't care how I get there.

"Oh, well, I guess it's good you brought this up so early. I think that's very mature of you, and this gives us plenty of time to plan." She clapped her hands together. "Yes, oh, uh... I think I'm going to talk to your father about this."

I nodded, watching her leave again. But she returned half a second later.

"I almost forgot. I came out here to tell you dinner will be done in twenty minutes. And that doesn't mean start coming inside and washing your hands in twenty minutes, young man."

"I'm coming in now." I scoffed, but waited until she'd gone to get up. I looked back to the old, beat up car and shook my head. A road trip. I'm going to have to wait a month before I get the chance to talk to Sector Seven- the bastards -but that doesn't mean I can't do something in the meanwhile. In fact, I've already started pressing buttons and pulling switches online. I'm digging deep in just the right places to find any trace of alien involvement here on Earth, or the activities of anyone that's involved with the Autobots after they'd arrived. And right now, I'm exchanging emails with the one and only Sarah Lennox. Of course, she thinks it's a part of some high-school project, that I'm one of several students that are supposed to find a real soldier to write a personal report on. The last email I got from her was confirmation that Will was alright with me doing my 'project' on him. That was yesterday.

Which means his base in Qatar has not been attacked by Decepticons.

As I sat down at the table, Dad made a show to exaggerate my arrival. "Oh, the great Witwicky boy has finally decided to grace us with his presence. Since you got that car you've barely been able to acknowledge us."

I decided to ignore this, as I recognized it as a phrase only the parents of a teenager would say, proving the fact that teenagers don't come up with their attitude all on their own. They're fishing for an eye roll, a snarky comment, and a nasty look. Instead, all he got was the eye roll and me stuffing my face. There really isn't anything I can say to that which won't result in him getting irritated with my insubordination, my making a fool of myself, or my trying to come off as snooty- which is an adjective Mom's been using to describe me a lot since I 'came' here -so I'm just going to keep my mouth shut.

"Right. Not like we're going to see much of you this summer either, hu? A road trip? How exactly do you plan to pull that off, anyways?" Dad stuck his fork in his mouth, giving me a skeptic look. I can already tell he thinks I'm not up for it. "Where are you going to get the money for it? Gas money, hotel money, eating, and whatever other shit you're going to do or get."

"I've still got a thousand saved up." I answered easily.

"And is that going to last you? Where are you going to go? Sam, you can't be serious about something like this. I mean, your car is great for a first car, but not if you're planning something like this. You're going to break down two states away and we're going to have to come all the way out there to get you." He began to lay out all the reasons he'd decided this was a bad idea, not really expecting me to have a comeback any more viable than 'But Dad!'

"I plan on sleeping in my car. It's not cold out, and there's space." I answered as if it were obvious. "I'm pretty sure a thousand bucks is more than I need. And I'm going out to the Hoover Dam. I'm not going anywhere special. Not even that far."

"And what's so special about the Hoover Dam?" He asked. "Photoshop a picture of yourself in front of it."

"Ron, it isn't the same. He wants to have some independence." Mom scoffed.

"Yeah." I agreed. "It's just somewhere to go. I don't actually want to go anywhere, I just want the trip."

"A trip, all on your own. For no reason." Dad raised his eyebrows. "Alright, so we won't be going over two states to pick you up, but still."

"And the car isn't going to break down." I insisted, already farther along my plate than he was. "I've got a friend that's going to fix it up by then."

"A friend? That fixes cars? You're not talking about that Miles boy, are you?" Mom looked confused.

The reminder about him suddenly changed my mood and I had to sigh. Oh, jeeze. We grew apart pretty quickly after graduation, and now being around him, I realized why. He's my best friend, so he's always around, but he's so... well he's such a high schooler. I left that behind years ago in my chronology. I don't know how I'm going to handle him.

"No, no. God no." I shook my head. "It's someone else." Actually, I haven't asked her about it yet. I haven't asked her about it yet. Honestly, I haven't done more than drive her home from that party yet. She's ditched Trent, and for some reason, she's as interested in me as she'd been when I was a stupid, fumbling teenager trying to act macho. I don't give a shit about acting macho now, and I know that at the time, that's what she'd liked.

"Is Miles going with you on this trip? Oh, this would be a nice time for you two to hang out. That boy used to come over all the time." Mom smiled.

"Yeah. Not since Sam was in middle school." Dad gave her an unimpressed look. "Miles is an idiot."

"Ron." She glared at him.

"No, it's alright." I insisted. "He's an idiot. But he's my friend, so I don't care." I tried to close the conversation. "And no, he isn't. This is all on my own."

"Alright. We'll talk about this more when your car is fixed up." Dad decided. "I'm not going to give the okay on this until I see you're responsible enough to handle this, and that the car can handle it."

"Hold on now, I'm interested in this other friend of yours." Mom put a hand on the table. "My baby is making new friends? I get so worried about you, being so alone."

"Mom, I'm fine." I scoffed. "And she isn't exactly a new friend, I've known her since elementary school. More like an acquaintance, anyways. It isn't like we're going to start playing video games together, she's fixing my car."

"She?" Mom jumped on this immediately. I only then remembered how concerned with sex my parents are. Maybe not so directly, but they concern themselves with my dating life rather thoroughly.

"A friend." I gave her a look she didn't understand at all. No. I am not dating Michaela, and I no longer have any interest in doing so. In my chronology, I did date her. And I broke up with her- it was a mutual thing -and the fascination with it is no longer there. She'll make a great friend, by all means, but I'm not going there again.

"What's her name?" Dad asked, not even catching the look that Mom was rather disoriented by. I looked back to my food, but didn't even answer before Mom regained herself and went back on the advance.

"Is this the girl you've had a crush on forever?"

What a loaded question. Yes, at this point in time, I did have a long-standing crush on her. But her pants are the last thing on my list right now.

"It's complicated."

"And what does that mean? Is she or is she not?" Mom demanded.

"I used to have a crush on her. For a very long time." I allowed, setting my silverware down, finished. "But I don't know. I don't have any interest in going out with her. I really do just want her to fix my car up."

"Uh-hu. Sure." Mom started laughing. Wow. The parents of a teenager are as close-minded as the teenager themselves.

"Really." I gave her a flat look. "She's nice, but there are several things I'd rather do before going on another date with her."

"Another?" She jumped on this immediately.

"Judy, you don't need to be prying into our son's social life like this." Dad attempted to reel her in half-heartedly.

I should just get up and walk away now, but that would just confirm her hopes. Make her think I'm trying to hide the fact I do want to go out with Banes. But I don't, and there's really no way around that.

"Another date, period. Especially one with her. I haven't ever been out with her." I put my hands up. "There was a verbal comma you missed there." I lied.

"Right." She wagged her eyebrows. "When did you two lovebirds go out?"

"Mom." I kept a straight, calm face because this conversation really doesn't matter to me. And I guess I should play along and make it seem like I'm a regular teenager, but if I were cornered into doing that, I think I'd rather get locked up by S-7. "I have never been on a date with Michaela Banes. She barely knows who I am, and I have different interests right now. The last thing I need is to get distracted by a girlfriend."

"Sam, do you have a boyfriend?" Dad asked, dead serious.

This time my face was compromised and I stared at him incredulously. Have I ever given reason to suggest I swing that way? "No."

"I'm not judging. I just find it incredibly hard to believe that a seventeen year old boy isn't trying to get into a girl's pants."

"Dad!" I moaned. Really. Parents are embarrassing, no wonder I don't have any anymore.

"Ron, didn't you just tell me to get out of our son's sex life?" Mom asked, smug.

"Mom!" I groaned, and stood up quickly. "I don't want a girlfriend, I don't want a boyfriend, I want a road trip. Is that really that hard to believe? Just a man, his car, and the road."

"He just called himself a man. That's adorable." Mom giggled.

"You've got a couple years to go, son." Dad started laughing with her. "And clearly you need to get laid."

I took a deep breath and shook my head, simply leaving the room. The niche around a teenager is very specific.

Sitting back on my bed, I pulled my laptop in front of my and checked for a reply from Sarah. I haven't told her anything yet, and I don't know if I'm going to. Until I find the Autobots- or at least evidence of their existence -anyone I tell about where I come from or what I'm doing is going to think I'm crazy. They're going to think crazy is hereditary and I took after my great grandfather... Archibald... Witwicky...

Friggin' slag. He went crazy because he found Megatron. No evidence of Autobots or Decepticons on Earth yet, and yet he still went crazy.

I immediately started looking up all the public records I could find of him, initiating research like there's no yesterday.

Lights out. House shutdown. Streetlights on. Ten at night, and I had just fit another piece into my puzzle. Archibald Witwicky came home from that Arctic venture just as crazy as the records in my continuity say, but of course it doesn't say why. But where I come from, there weren't any public records about the discovery of 'NBE-01'. His glasses sat next to me on the bed, from where I'd fished them out of the mess under my bed. I never put the stuff away after that genealogy report... which I didn't give this time around. I actually zapped into this continuum sitting in Dad's car holding a paper that read A-.

After shining a flashlight through them, a laser pointer, and just looking through them, I came to the conclusion that I can't tell the difference between Cybertronian coordinates etched so thinly and a fine web of cracks. It could honestly be either. I'd make someone disappointed for failing to recognize the difference on these freaking things, but I'm not sure who. Ratchet? Jazz? Maybe Wheeljack, but I'm not sure.

So that's just something I've got to file away for when I get to S-7.

I was getting tired by now, but I had one more thing I wanted to check. I've brought the window up a dozen times since I got out of school, but it's currently the most important of all my irons in the fire. I have to watch it carefully, keeping a close eye and not letting it get too hot, because I want to keep it under control. Emailing the faculty of the Hoover Dam about 'NBE' and the likes in an anonymous email- Jazz at least insured I could make myself anonymous because he felt for some reason that it's incredibly important -is a very finicky move. They could think I'm crazy and have no idea about S-7. Sector Seven might not even exist- though I highly doubt it doesn't -and then they'd really think I'm crazy. Or, perhaps they'll have read it, passed it around, the actual S-7 would have seen it and deemed me a threat to their security. In that worst case scenario, they'd be doing everything they can to track me down and bring me in. Which they might be able to do, since I don't put an excessive amount of faith in my hacking abilities.

Still no reply. I sent it two days ago, and I haven't even gotten an email back saying not to email there again because I'm bat shit crazy. I'm not sure if that's a good sign or a bad sign, honestly. I only listed off a few high-security words and names, and left them with the endnote, "I know all about this operation, and I need your help. You can expect me within the next few weeks asking to see 'Seymour Simmons', and I will claim my name to be 'Sam'."

That's it. I'm going to start asking everyone around there for Simmons, and when people start asking my name, I'm just going to say Sam. Hopefully they'll get the idea.

I shut the laptop and slid it under my bed. I've got this entire situation under control, and yet, I can't help but to be terrified it's all for nothing. If Archibald went crazy because of the cold, and Sector Seven doesn't exist, then there's no telling the Autobots do either. And at the same time, it could just be that Cybertron as a whole has never had contact with Earth. Whether they have or not- whether there's even a war or not -I'll stop at nothing to find them and convince them of my situation. If I can't get their help in returning to the proper continuity, then I refuse to settle for any less than staying with this version of them. This war is my life. They are my family.

I'm not trying to make any negative rifts or anything between him and his parents. This isn't a woe is me story. They've just... drifted apart and I'm trying to get across the point that things have happened between them, and the conscious decision has been made to abdicate relations between them for reasons, and there really aren't even lingering sentiments any more than Sam holds toward anyone. He'd do just about anything to save their lives, sure, but he would for most humans. Because he's an Autobot, and that's what they do.

But that isn't the important part of the story. So now I have that established, I hope you can keep that in mind.

I'm only one chapter ahead this time, so I'm not sure how quickly updates will be coming out. Second semester is about to start again, and this time I'll have more work to focus on. That and I have a job at the planetarium (yes!)

Please, express to me rather explicitly how you feel about this new story and the mindless ramblings you may have thought of while reading it. Please tell to me your assumptions on where this is going, or perhaps to exactly what extent you don't understand something. Please, review. Thank you.