Washington DC

Exactly Thirteen Years Later

And now, it was June 10th, 2020.

Sam knew the date all too well. He was dreading it, in fact.

Today was the day that Ron and Judy Witwicky would come rolling into town, to him and Carly and their four-year old son Daniel.

Okay, maybe he was overexaggerating their arrival just a smidge, but the elder Witwickys had become even more animated and raucous once their young grandson was born. Sam remembered the day a little too vividly.

Carly was still getting rest in the hospital, and Ron and Judy had arrived just minutes after Sam called them over, flowers, balloons, and a gift basket of baby clothes in-hand.

What else occurred that day?
Not much else.

Bee was still around to see Daniel's birth, at least. If the CIA and their little Transformer-hunting group hadn't come around…

Sam sighed, thinking back to then. It was the single happiest few hours of his life when he saw his son for the first time. An otherworldly feeling.

Then, Bee had to leave the Witwicky clan behind just a few short months later. At the very least, it was a bittersweet goodbye, but for the remainder of that night Sam locked himself away in the guest bedroom of he and Carly's house. Obviously, Daniel was but a toddler back then, so he didn't understand.

Daniel still didn't understand now. He would in due time. Sam knew that. But even so, it was difficult when the only person he could possibly confide in was Carly.

And as much as Sam didn't like it (though he reluctantly accepted it), she had gotten over Bumblebee years ago.

Sam let out another, deeper sigh, and ascended from his and Carly's bed. She was still asleep, and had every right to be, given that it was 5:30 in the morning and not even the President of the United States had gotten his morning coffee yet.

But Sam wanted to impress. His parents, that is. Long-gone were the days when Sam was oh so desperate to impress people like Trent DeMarco, Leo Spitz, and Bruce Brazos.

Sam Witwicky grew out of that… strange, slightly (maybe more than slightly) neurotic phase of his adolescence, and became something greater. He was his own man now. With his own career, his own house, his own wife, his own child, and his own…

His own car.

Some days, especially the darker, more dreary ones, Sam wondered whether or not his current state of happiness was partially thanks to Bee (and all other Cybertronians) breaking contact with him and essentially driving Sam out of that wild, crazy life forever.

Sam always pushed those thoughts back into the pit where they belonged. Bumblebee was his friend, and always would be.

Their bond was eternal.

There he went, thinking about Bumblebee again. No way, Sam thought to himself, I'm done with that, I need to be.

Thus, that state of mind was pushed back again.

Sam walked over to the fairly large closet which stood before the bed, and pulled the two doors back. He needed something nice to wear. If he wasn't in tip-top shape (along with Carly, though to a lesser degree) he knew his mother would be nagging him all day about his lackluster fashion sense, especially since it had been over a year since they visited with each other. He could hear Judy in his head already.

"Simple," Sam muttered to himself, speaking out loud the style of suit that he wanted to wear to breakfast and lunch with his parents and wife. "Simple works, simple is stylish." He clicked his tongue a bit to quell the nerves building up inside of him. Ron and Judy surely wouldn't be here for another four hours, but every second breezed past Sam's head.

Finally, after a few further minutes of decision-making, Sam picked a good-looking suit that also fit exceptionally well: navy blue coat and pants, white shirt with vertical blue pinstripes, and a nice golden tie to round out the color scheme.

There was no way Judy would give Sam a hassle over this.

Simple is stylish.

Once Sam had his look picked out for the day, he brushed his teeth, showered up, and had some quick breakfast (a single bowl of oats with strawberry bits in it).

By the time he placed his bowl and spoon in the then-empty kitchen sink, it was already 6:45 AM, and the final preparations on Sam's suit (smoothing out any creases, adjusting his tie, etcetera) were made.

And then, Carly came downstairs, all dressed up and ready to go.

Sam hurriedly looked up from his phone. "Oh, you're up early!" he exclaimed with both happiness and surprise.

Carly sat next to him at the table. "And you were up even earlier," she responded, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but also the detectable scent of worry.

Sam nervously laughed. "Uh, yeah, just wanted to be ready for mom and dad, is all."
Carly saw through Sam's BS. Always did. She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I know how your parents are. Mine were the same way when I was a teenager--"

Sam cut her off right there, scoffing. "Yeah, when you were a teenager." He took his free hand and rested it against his temples. "Listen, I don't like that my parents treat me like I'm still sixteen anymore than you do. But it's something I've gotta live with."

Sam looked out of the window near him, bright morning sunlight blasting through the windows. "I just…" Sam continued, stopping and then sighing.

"What is it, Sammy?" Carly asked gently.

Sam jolted his head back up from its slump. "I just don't wanna be inadequate."

Carly smirked a little, standing up from the table. "Believe me, Sam, inadequacy is the absolute least of your worries." She strolled over to the fridge and began digging through it for something. The jug of milk, to be precise. She then got a cup and filled it up with the liquid.

As Carly put everything away and walked past Sam again, she said, "It's just the devil on your shoulder making you feel that way. Listen to the angel every once in a while." She continued up the stairs.

"Who's the milk for?" Sam asked as she was halfway up.

"Daniel wanted me to get him some. I think you woke him up while you were getting ready." Without another word, Carly went over to Daniel's room.

Sam mentally slapped himself. He couldn't even get dressed for the day without waking his son up too early in the day.

Inadequate.

Once again, that was how he felt.