All-Mother summary: Sam had been waiting for this night for a long time, but it seemed that the Allspark had one more burst of life in it. Sadly, as is the law of nature, something must die so another can live. [2007 movieverse]

Disclaimer: If only, if only, the little plot bunny sings.

Image: The Allspark by Sakuranez

Rating: Older Teen.

My mother, my mother

where arth my mother

from who's womb I grew

is she merely resting or testing

my love of her dear fragile soul

Yet as days pass

the change from green to black grass

the world around me dies

she has been and lived

and left me behind

The gunner's door wings twitched in a nervous way as he watched the Carrier before him trudged forward. The mech's large feet dragged through the thin dust until he stopped and stared at a place on the ground. The gunner watched the sun's ray's dance off the symbols littering his silver body for a moment, before turning to his companions and speaking in a soft tone, not bothering to use his com link. He knew from experience that the mech before them didn't hear a damn thing when he was like this.

"Hey, Cliffjumper, Hot Rod, why are we here? That star is going to go super nova any day now and take this planet with it. It's not safe to be here, so why is the Allspark-Carrier here? It's too dangerous for him." The gray gunner looked away from the other two young mechs for a moment wishing for an answer. They merely looked at the other in confusion, no answer offered. Primus, they didn't even know why they were here, but all the older mechs – the ones created by the original Allspark – said that they should go. They may not have another chance to see the All-Mother.

That, in itself, was confusing. They had seen the All-Mother, or the New Allspark as it was referred to by the elder mechs. It was merely a glowing orb-like object that rested in the capital, upon a pedestal. All could witness it; it was free for all to gaze upon since it was almost everyone's mother. And it wasn't like anyone could steal or use it. The Carrier was the only being All-Mother would react too. It wouldn't even react to the Prime when he laid his hands upon it. That was why the Carrier was protected such as they were doing now. Nobody wanted another Megatron … not that any of them knew what the mech had been like. They only knew the stories.

"Perhaps … we should ask him to go. If there's something here, we can get it for him. Come on, let's tell the Carrier it's too dangerous to be here," said Hot Rod as he took a step forward, his usual childish energy gone and replaced by worry. But, before he could even take a step forward, a yellow hand lashed out and stopped the young being, making all three younglings turn around to gaze upon none other than the High Protector: Bumblebee.

"S-sir!" said all three mech's in unison in surprise.

They hadn't been expecting the High Protector to be here, but they all knew they shouldn't be surprised. Bumblebee and the Carrier seemed to have an kinship that was old. So old, that when the Carrier spoke, which was a rare occurrence in itself, he talked of things nobody knew of. He spoke of names, places, species, and things that had been. Some younger mechs would want to inquire as to whom these people were and these places that the Carrier seemed to hold so dear, but refrained. A sparkling, in his innocence, had heard a name mentioned in one of the stories whispered between the Prime and Ironhide. The sparkling later asked the Carrier who the being was. The Carrier had went silent at the question, he even seemed pained … he locked himself into his room for a few days and then refused to go near the All-Mother for nearly a vorn. He seemed wounded to even look upon the orb, it was even whispered that he would weep whenever any of the elder mechs would come to him and ask him to make a new life. He just kept saying it was his fault … it was his fault.

That time of lacking children was called the Vorn of Weeping, and nobody wanted a reenactment of it. So, all younglings were careful when they spoke to the Carrier, not that any but the most daring spoke to the co-creator at all. The Carrier was a mech of few words like there was a sadness in his throat, but he would always listen. He loved every youngling that came to him, as if they were his own children … and some wondered if they were. After all, there had to be a reason the new Allspark had been called All-Mother, right?

The tall, upgraded, mech stood there a minute, his yellow paint job reflecting the solar rays falling from the sky. He let go of Hot Rot and looked at the others, finally stating, "No need to be uptight younglings. I didn't mean to scare you, but I don't think you should bother the Carrier. This is a very hard time for him, and its best to let him be. We are safe for the next few hours or so."

The younglings all frowned, Bluestreak finally stating nervously, "It's not going to be like the Vorn of Weeping, is it?"

Bumblebee frowned at this, but offered a warming hand and patted the shorter mech on the head. The gunner shied away slightly, embarrassed. It had been a long time since the High Protector had done that to him, not since he had gotten his first upgrade. The High Protector was always like that. He would always check up on all the sparklings and younglings as if he were checking up on his personal charges.

"I sure hope not, but Sa-the Carrier has a sad past. Sometimes things remind him of a very bad time in his life. It makes him depressed, but that's why he's here. It may make him seem gloomy, but he finds some peace here," said Bumblebee simply as he watched the Carrier walk forward towards in the barren landscape and to a collection of small stones in the ground. The grey mech, enchanted by symbols all over his frame, stalled in front of one in particular and fell to his knees. All the younglings tightened up, never having seen such a weak moment from the Carrier.

For minute, all were silent, Bumblebee especially. His face had gained a lost expression as if he knew why the Carrier had fallen the way he had. Finally, unable to take it no-more, Hot Rod was about to start forward and ask the Carrier what was wrong, but stalled. Slowly, the Carrier moved his arm, the panels sliding to the side to reveal a storage unit. Cool mist fell to the ground, meaning that the compartment was refrigerated, and then, slowly, the tattooed mech pulled something out. The younglings all gasped, Cliffjumper even taking a step closer to get a better look at the small thing between the Carrier's fingers.

"Is that what I think it is?" said Cliffjumper, his optics going bright as he looked up to the High Protector.

Bumblebee stared at the thing and its fragile body as the Carrier placed it down. Once upon a time, he had been confused about the ritual as well, but Will Lennox had explained it too him. Primus, now that was a name he hadn't thought of in a long time, but he was sure it was a name that the Carrier recalled every other day … it was part of his origins after all. Sighing at the memory, the High Protector replied simply, "Yes, it is an organic. A flower to be exact."

The younglings all quickly gained the expression as if the yellow mech had just said a sin. Organics were rare, extremely rare. There were barely any planets that had the right circumstances for the things to evolve. So rare that the only known specimens were in the capital building in a place called, 'The Rose Garden', under the protective and hidden gaze of the Carrier and Prime. Scientists would beg the Prime for even a glance at one of the creatures, but Prime would always simply say, 'You'll have to ask the Carrier. They are his past and memories … I will not take them from him.' Nobody dared ask after that … because no one wanted to hurt the Carrier. He was all their father in a way, after all over ninety percent of the population had to be recreated by the All-Mother and him after the war with Megatron.

"I-its going to die, High Protector! I don't know much about organics, I've never even seen one, but I know that they need water and can't take high heats and …"

Bumblebee placed a hand over the grey youngling's mouth, silencing the chatty Bluestreak. Tilting his head, he offered the Carrier one last look before stating simply, "Yes … it is going to die. Flowers, when put on graves, are meant to wither and die … just like the one whom the flower is being given too. Flowers represent a beautiful life that had been and faded, just the flower will."

The younglings all looked confused, unsure as of what to say. Moving his hand, Bumblebee made the younglings follow him to a large stone. There he sat down and stared at the Carrier once more before stating, "I think it's time I told you a story: a story of a race that had been living on this planet a few billion years ago and of two of those beings in particular. This is the story of two humans called Sam and Mikaela. They are the answer to all of your creations."

XXX

Paw07: A new idea that mixes the ideas of Mikaela getting pregnant and Sam being affected by the Allspark. Not an overly happy fic if this beginning hasn't given that away already, but it should be fun to tell nonetheless. As usual, drop a review if you want me to continue or not. Constructive criticism always welcome.

Furthermore, this is just a taunt from my poll and a way to get all giddy about the Revenge of the Fallen.