Fair warning: I am new to the genre of Transformer's Fanfiction and this is a first attempt. Also, I have no idea where I'm going with the plot. Why, then, am I posting this odd little story? Because I am an author who has lost her muse and I find that one of the best ways to drag her ass back is to lay out bait, i.e. write a new story. At the time of this posting, anything and everything from every possible corner of the Transformer's plot cliché universe is up for grabs so I make no promises as to what ground this story may cover. That means that this may become a crack fic at any time so please no complaining later.

The Transformers franchise and all its characters is licensed and owned by Hasbro. I own nothing so please don't sue me.

Post-ROTF

Serendipity

Life can be very funny.

"Yes, yes, very funny! Kidnap a guy from his dorm in the middle of the night and drop his ass in a forest in the middle of nowhere. Hey, idiots, you start hazing freshmen at the beginning of school not at the end of the semester!"

In fact, it can be downright hilarious.

"Aw c'mon guys! This isn't funny!"

The joke on everyone, however, is that there is no cosmic connection, no grand plan.

"Leo, Goddamn it! I know you're behind this and laughing your ass off but fun time's over!"

It's all a series of accidents, am ongoing chain of singular events…

"Ha! Fuck you, Leo! I've found the road- going back to campus asshole!"

…A crossroads of independent activities that just happened to run into each other at a particular point in time.

"I'm setting fire to your stuff when I get there!"

Everything that happens is simply a random sequence of events from birth to death.

"And requesting a room change! Fuck you and your F.T.J. crap!"

For good or bad, there is no universal plan and, because of this, one could argue that Life is not only funny but also a bit sad, too.

"Joke's over idiots! Pick me up before I get frostbite!"

So maybe it's not too surprising that certain random events happen a tad more often than others for some people…

"Hello?"

…Because who wants to muddle through all that sadness and humor alone?

Sinking as far as he could into the minimal fabric, Sam shivered violently, grateful that he had decided tonight to wear to bed the pajamas Mikaela had sent him. Over one of their web chats, he'd complained bitterly about the cold on the East Coast and the approaching snow season while his girlfriend, bathed in the warm beautiful California sunshine, had called him a drama queen. He'd felt rather offended at her lack of understanding until the package containing the soft, heavy fabric set arrived.

God, where did they dump me? Proceeding carefully, using his toes to feel the asphalt that was so cold it burned prior to each step and check for sharp surprises, Sam watched his breath fog as he continued down the road, praying to God and Primus that he was heading in the correct direction since his navigational skills were nil.

"L-Leo's a dead m-man." Now that the outraged rush of hot anger was rapidly diminishing, Sam was really beginning to feel the cold spreading through his thin frame. The teenager's jaw ached as his teeth chattered, his lungs burning as he forced himself to take another breath of the air. His muscles felt as if they were locking into place and the unrelieved darkness all around him was adding to his growing sense of disorientation. "I-if B-b-bummmblllebee gets back before I do, he's g-g-gonnnnnnnah…"

Leo would be paste, let's just put it that way.

Though the temperature was perfect for snow, the ground was covered only by a layer of frost that crunched painfully under foot. Sam wrapped his hands around his chest and forced himself to keep breathing even if he did feel as if he was inhaling fire instead of normal air. He tried to ignore the reflexive urge to cough as his lungs protested but ultimately gave in, listening to the deep barking sound with not a little bit of worry. He cursed Leo again and again, promising the other all sorts of horrible punishments since, because of this stunt, it was now possible that even once Sam was again safe and warm, he may still have to suffer through finals sick.

The wind whipped up right then and tore a gasp from his throat as it pierced through his minimal clothing and take what minimal warmth he felt, leaving behind an aching cold that seemed to settle deep in his bones. His strength vanished and Sam suddenly found himself on his knees, shivering desperately as he pitched himself to the side as a truck came careening around a bend in the road behind him. The grass he lay on stabbing into him like blades, Sam stared up at the sky and the stars twinkling down at him, absently tracking the clear brilliant path of a shooting star as it careened through the darkness above his head. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished in a flash of pale blue and part of him was simultaneously both disappointed and relieved that another Cybertronian would not be joining the factions here on Earth.

Sam shivered, and this time the movement was so violent and painful he wondered if he had had a seizure. It was so, so, cold!

I survived Mission City, destroyed an ancient alien artifact, destroyed a homicidal robot bent on world domination with said artifact, survived being chased by little minirobots, went completely nuts, got branded a terrorist worldwide, found new ancient alien artifact, got killed in the middle of an Egyptian desert, had a meeting of the minds in a powwow of the morons responsible for the new battle, revived the only hope for saving the world from the return of the aforementioned evil Robot of Doom and his scary as fuck leader, and survived the first semester of college. I am SO going to haunt Leo if I freeze to death or get killed by some whacked-out serial killer driving around.

After checking both ways to make sure nothing else was coming, Sam crawled back onto the road, stood and began jogging, occasionally flexing his hands to keep some sort of sensation in them. He was not much of an athlete by any account of the imagination but, after meeting the Decepticons, Sam had learned that being small and fast were his greatest assets and so he had worked to develop it as much as he could. Megatron and his cronies were still out there and still really pissed with him and that knowledge alone helped spur him out of his warm comfy bed each morning to do a miserable lap around the campus as Bumblebee silently followed behind like a comforting, if eye-catching, shadow.

An hour of tripping and falling later, Sam finally stumbled to a stop and collapsed to his knees, doubling over in a coughing fit that sounded much too wet for Sam's comfort. He clutched at his chest with hands that wouldn't work, as if that would help dull the ache of his burning lungs, and tried to get his numb feet under him again. He had to keep warm and to do that he had to keep moving. The thought kept bouncing around his brain though the reason behind it wasn't as immediately forthcoming and neither was the reason why he was out there in the first place. His concentration kept wandering, prompting him to slow down, and each time he stopped made it harder to move because he was tired… And the asphalt wasn't as hard as he first thought… Couldn't he just have a minute to take a small break?

Danger… The concept came sharp and bright, cutting momentarily like a blade through his otherwise muzzy and slow thoughts, most of which centered around the idea of sleep. Why sleeping was suddenly a bad thing he didn't know but part of him was urging him to get up… Oh, hey… when had he fallen? And did he really have to stand, really? Couldn't he just lay here…

Danger! This time a foreign sound reached his ears, an odd but very loud crack! followed by other, muted sounds, and a very primal part of Sam took over because it recognized the noises of trees snapping like twigs as large metal frames walked by, the stimulus forever associated with one of the worst moments of his life and a sorrow so deep he felt it he could drown in it. Sam was on his feet before he consciously realized it, his feet shuffling with painful slowness, but he was determined and each step meant he was closer to safety.

Unfortunately, even his longest stride wouldn't have been able to compete with the smallest step of the metal form that emerged from the tree line near the road and Sam instinctively froze in place, the insane thought that if he didn't move it wouldn't see him gripping him. He knew it was stupid, suicidally so, but he began breathing shallowly anyway, praying the Cybertronian would find him uninteresting and leave.

With a movement that could have almost been deemed delicate, a clawed metal foot set down on the road about a yard ahead of Sam, effectively cutting off his escape route and evoking a small whimper from the human as his heart tried to claw its way from his chest. His harsh breathing loud in his hears, Sam began backing up slowly in retreat until he heard the distinctive soft whisper of gears and servos working again and knew that the mech had placed a barrier behind him as well. Sam began inching to his left, into the middle of the road but putting distance between his body and the mech, all the while trying to project uninteresting thoughts as he looked straight ahead, waiting to see what the mech would do.

It warbled something at him and, reflexively, Sam looked at the speaker as he'd been conditioned to do, mentally cursing himself. If he could have felt his face, he would have been able to feel himself pale as his eyes met crimson red. That was all he could see of the mech as far as features were concerned- between the night itself and the Decepticon's own dark paint, Sam couldn't even gauge its shape.

"S-s-sorrrry. I-I-I d-donnn'tt sssssssspeak-k Cybberrrrtronnnian." The teenager felt himself shiver again, another massive full body movement that disrupted his minimal balancing skills and left him on his ass. He curled around his bent knees, conserving warmth and wishing desperately that Bumblebee was with him but Sam quickly halted that wish as memories of Optimus' death washed over him. He didn't want a repeat of that awful even, not with Bumblebee or anyone else for that matter and if there was another Decepticon here on Earth hell bent on killing Autobots, then Sam wasn't going to help them do it…

Dimly, he heard the whir of gears shifting and then warm air was rushing over him, so warm that that to his cold skin it felt scalding, but even so he felt himself shifting from his curled position, moving toward it because warmth meant safety. He knew his hands were scraping across the pavement, could see the bloody furrows forming on his knuckles, but Sam could feel none of it as he fought to reach the source before he grew too tired to do so, instinct driving him even as common sense screamed that it was a trap.

During his slow awkward trek, he was aware of someone talking to him and, though he could hear the words, they weren't making sense. It was English but it may as well have been a Arabic for all the sense his brain could make of it and then it was all being drowned out by the sounds of delicate machinery moving and the roar of an engine and… squealing tires?

Car… Recognition flared just as something slammed into him from the side and he was flying before the pain of the initial impact even registered, hitting and tumbling across the pavement until he finally came to a stop, unable to move as the car whipped past and disappeared into the night.

Didn't even stop… Sam's mind seemed to seize on that fact with painful clarity, impotent fury and outrage welling up inside him as blood pooled underneath him, his lungs and heart laboring loudly. He hit me and didn't even stop! Bastard! He didn't…even…

He was so tired…

He felt large fingers ghost over him, the familiar sound of the mechanisms moving vaguely comforting as Sam struggled to stay awake. It reminded him of his absent guardian, especially when he was suddenly picked up, his whimpered cries met with reassuring clicking as he was placed against a metal surface.

Small bolts of blue energy beginning to arch over its form, the mech looked down at him and said, clearly and in English, "Safe."

Lightheaded, Sam didn't feel very safe, especially with those red eyes staring down at him so intently but he could only gurgle feebly in response as the blue haze the mech was generating wiped out his vision. A crack! rent the air, loud enough to put the worst thunderstorm to shame, and then the teenager's body was being pushed, pulled, turned inside out, twisted and wrung out like some fleshy towel all at the same time, the moment stretching out into an eternity of pain until another crack! stopped the awful sensations.

Sam barely had enough time to be wonder at the bright sunshine blinding him before he passed out.

"I swear to everything that's holy," Leo rushed to explain, his hands out in front of him as if to ward off a blow from the semi parked in front of him. "I had nothing to do with it! I was on a date- with a girl, a really pretty..." He pointed accusingly at a pair of women walking across the grass nearby, one of which had been waving at him. "Her! I went out with her! And I stayed in her room! And when I came back to the dorm, Sam was already gone and- I swear to God- I thought he was in class until 'Bee texted me!"

To anyone sane, it looked as if the teenager were arguing with a truck. A very big eighteen wheeler, but a truck none the less, and thus was the start of Leo's future college reputation that he was completely off his rocker.

"Have, have you found him yet?" Leo asked quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets before hastily pulling them out and hiding them behind his back. To hide the action he began toeing the ground with his sneaker, biting his lip.

"No," Optimus reported in a tone that sounded to Leo as if the Autobot leader was feeling not just a little bit put out by the whole situation. "Bumblebee is searching the location you provided but has had no luck in locating Sam. Thank you for finding this information but, I must ask, is the method you used to obtain it have anything to do with the injuries of your hands or the marks on your face?"

Giving up the pretense, Leo sighed and took a good look at his hands, flexing them and watching the scrapes on his knuckles bleed. He had nearly pissed himself when Bumblebee called but Leo had been on a rampage since, hunting down those responsible and knocking the snot out of them until he got they confessed to the prank and gave him the details. If neither the jokers' back up nor Optimus had arrived, Leo would still be giving them hell.

"Sam's my man," Leo mumbled, looking at the ground as he blushed. "He's got enough on his plate with, ya know, you guys and, like, the shit he still gets 'cause of what went down in Egypt… Whatever 'normal' was, it isn't any more so, like, I wanna let him settle in, give him space to decompress and find what's his new 'normal'…"

He realized that he was rambling and decided that shutting up would be a good idea, especially since Optimus wasn't saying anything.

"Samuel has been experiencing difficulties since then?" The truck asked.

"Huh? Uh, yah." Leo said, a bit surprised. "I mean, he's been pouring himself into his studies but it's tough to concentrate or even kick back when everywhere you go you get stared at and no one will go near you within ten feet, including the faculty. You should see how fast people scramble away once he selects a seat in class… Anyway, 'Bee, Mikaela and I have got his back so it's all good." The teenager patted the truck grill affectionately.

"I was…unaware that he had been having problems." Optimus said, sounding concerned. "And this has been going on since he returned?"

"Yeah well," Leo idly scratched the back of his head and edged away slightly from the Autobot leader. "His pic got flashed world wide as a terrorist by an alien psycho. Before that the fucking Terminator came after him here at school, destroyed a library and killed a few students. That kind of rep doesn't just vanish and, now that I think about it, I'm surprised there hasn't been a law firm envelope mixed in with all the hate mail he gets."

There was a hiss of air breaks and the sudden, angry sound startled Leo. "…Hate mail?"

"Uh huh. After the third week, we stopped reading it and just stuck it in a trash bag to shred and burn later once final are over. Make a party out of it and roast hot dogs or something. So much for the 'college experience,' eh? Hey, do you guys have anything like college? Guess not when you can just download everything… So, um, any news on Sam?"

The truck twitched. There was just no other way to describe the sudden back and forth movement of the eighteen wheeler's antenna. "Bumblebee has found a patch of dried blood on the road you specified. He confirms that it is Sam's."

"Blood?" Leo squeaked, feeling himself pale considerably. Optimus' breaks hissed again and then the truck was carefully reversing out of the narrow parking lot in the direction that would lead the semi to the swath of forest south of the campus. "Wait, is he okay? Should I come with?"

"Please remain at the college and call us should he come back to the dorm." The Autobot requested, maneuvering the last few tight corners before rumbling into the distance and leaving Leo to stew in his own anxiety.

Reviews and ideas are welcome. Flames are not.