The problem with terror is that it makes it difficult to actually understand what's happening. The other problem was that since she was in a memory, she wasn't sure if the fear was hers, Sam's or a combination of both. When remembering the events that had followed, Mary would swear that Megatron had been looking at her. Then again she'd also swear he'd grown bigger and more threatening. It made the actual memory highly unreliable. The terror also meant that she didn't react like any sane person would; i.e. running like hell from the crazy giant alien robot with a mace. What happened instead was that Mary found herself frozen in place as the giant robot swung his mace. It was intending to kill Sam by destroying the part of the building he was standing on. Mary felt the horrible drop in her stomach as Sam fell off the crumbling floor. The charcoal grey robot let out a rumbling chuckle and turned to look at her.

"You can't see me," she whispered to herself. "This is a memory. You can't see me. You can't see me." The robot seemed to smile viciously at her, picking up the mace and turning so he was fully facing her. "I can't be hurt in a memory," she muttered wide eyed (Sam was alive. He had to be, unless Apocalypse had made a ghost his host. Something she wouldn't put past him.) and her chest hurt. It was like something was constricting her chest so tightly that she couldn't draw a breath. Her ears were ringing, but she could still hear the explosions in the distance.

"Puny mortal," the robot ground out. Mary tensed. He'd said that to her. That wasn't meant to happen.

"Matrix...? Matrix!" she screamed in horror, trying to scuttle away. She threw her hand in front of her, trying to move something. Not the robot (that'd be stupid), but a pipe or a piece of rubble maybe. She didn't feel the focus that came with her powers though. The robot had stopped to watch her smugly, like he knew she was worthless and was silently gloating when her attempts to use her telekinesis against him proved useless.

She was powerless, and he knew that.

How did he know though? How? This went against everything the Matrix told her! She could see what the person's memory was about, but she couldn't affect it! That was what the Matrix said. So why...?

He swung the mace as Mary froze again, this time in horrified wonder at the weapon that was aimed at her. If Matrix was right, it shouldn't kill her. She still tried to run, even though her legs felt like lead. Her body didn't seem to acknowledge the effort.

Mary's last thought before it hit her was how much she hoped it wouldn't hurt.

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Waking up calm was an odd feeling, Sam thought as he sat up, blinking. Then he coughed, feeling something slimy in his mouth. He spat to the side and blinked at the golden liquid on the floor. He swore it was sparkling slightly.

"Ugh." Sam muttered, scrunching up his face in disgust. He glanced around, realizing he was in an unfamiliar empty building. He was sitting on a makeshift bed. He remembered seeing one like it on a war film once. Not comfortable, and it shook when he moved too quickly, but it worked.

"...Where am I?" And why did his head feel like a knife had been pushed into his skull and was being twisted slowly?

I'd apologise, but I'd be completely insincere, a voice commented blandly.

Sam jerked, looking around wildly and regretting it very quickly.

"Who – Where are you?" he called, remembering the room was still empty and flinching at a sudden surge of pain. He stood shakily and tried to walk forward in an attempt to find someone, but ended up falling to his knees due to the sudden throbbing in his head.

Lie down and wait for the medic, the voice continued as if Sam hadn't spoken. I'd rather my first host didn't die from being short a processor. ...Can your processor crash? it added uncertainly.

"Processor?" Sam still couldn't see anyone as he looked around. The building he was in was cold and dark, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He tried to remember what had happened when Mikaela was over, but only remembered his chest hurting. At least he felt better now. Mostly. Aside from the headache, that is.

Processor, the voice repeated coldly. At least you can listen. Now lie down. I can and will make your helm-ache worse. That was a threat. A definite threat. Besides, we have contract terms to discuss. For example, I refuse to make the same mistakes as my sister who you call Matrix.

"You're," Sam paused again in realization. "You're in my head." He remembered a small blonde girl smiling at him. The memory then changed to Not-Sam insulting him.

That's me. You refer to me as Not-Sam. However, my actual name is Apocalypse, as dubbed by your new Prime. I understand human manners dictate that I have to say 'A pleasure to meet you'. There was no inflection in the words, which made the conversation all the stranger. Sam moved so he was sitting on the floor, his legs feeling like jelly as the pain pounded through his entire skull. Now be silent and wait.

"I don't think that's the right word structure," Sam corrected half-heartedly. Considering Sam's English scores, he was hardly one to start correcting people's sentences. He'd barely managed to get a B in that class.

I am trying to translate a highly complicated language which has more words than every language in your world combined. It is... confusing. The irritation in the voice told Sam just how unhappy Apocalypse was to admit that. Sam considered making a jab at the voice's pride, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"You'll work it out," Sam tried to reassure, thoroughly weirded out by the whole conversation.

I'd rather I didn't need to.

"And I'd rather you weren't in my head talking to me." Sam leaned back onto the cold surface, closing his eyes. His mom must be worried and his dad was going to ground him again (he'd banned any more adventures with aliens). And what about Mikaela? He was certain she'd been with him before...

He paused, missing Apocalypse's reply. What had happened to him? He remembered coughing a lot and then he'd... there'd been a conversation. Gods and top-secret? No. That wasn't it. Something about a matrix? That made slightly more sense. He was taking everything about this too well. Perhaps he should ask Ratchet if he had a concussion or some other sort of head injury recently.

You're mostly right.

Oh yeah, the voice.

"Are you listening in to my thoughts?" That had taken him a while to realize. A lot longer than it should have. He blamed the headache.

As I said, I'm not making my sister's mistakes. She might believe in privacy, but I will not be betrayed. Especially by a fleshy alien. Last time was bad enough. It trailed off in an angry mutter. Really should have defended my temple better. Sparkeaters. Next war, I'm summoning sparkeaters.

"I'm the alien?" Sam started laughing to himself in disbelief then stopped with a flinch, because ow. That did not help his headache. He was being called an alien by a... something. Something that was definitely not human. Plus, a sparkeater? He was certain he'd heard that word before but what was it? He decided his head hurt too much to care.

Once again you prove your ability to listen. Apocalypse seemed to lean back, somehow, despite being in Sam's head. It seemed content to watch through Sam's eyes as the teenager tried to decide if it was worth standing up or if he should just stay on the floor. With a groan, Sam decided that the floor was too uncomfortable and moved over to a folding chair that had been dumped in the corner of the room. Sitting upright seemed to be the best option, as lying prone was making him body feel stiff. He looked around with a small frown, it looked like he would have to just wait for the medic Apocalypse seemed so determined was going to turn up, much to his annoyance. But if this medic could cure his headache, Sam would consider the inconvenience worth it.

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Charlie sighed as the phone once again tugged on Mary's hair. They were still parked on the shoulder on the highway and had been for the past ten minutes. The main thing Charlie was happy about now was that it wasn't raining. Mary's body convulsed as she gasped loudly, her marks flashing red.

Matrix isn't happy, Charlie thought to himself as Mary continued to breathe in ragged gasps that didn't seem to fulfil her need for air. Before Charlie could lean over and try to help, she opened the door next to her and retched loudly.

Even from his seat Charlie could see the golden, oil-like substance that she was throwing up. It didn't look natural, the medic in Charlie protested. The problem with that thought was that he'd seen it all before. She'd be fine after she had something to eat and drink, experience now told him.

In the time it had taken Charlie to ponder the sight, the driver had made a move to get out of the car while talking to his supervisor over the phone. Primes passing out was never a good sign. Markings flashing red was an even worse sign. The driver had gotten on the phone after Mary had been unconscious for ten minutes and had been reporting anything that changed since. When the driver was close enough, Mary held up her hand shaking her head, gulping down a few mouthfuls of air.

"You okay?" Charlie asked as she sat up.

"Remind me to hit Sam," she managed, making a face of disgust. "He's that way," she added pointing to the left. She put her head in her hands in sudden confusion. "Or was it right? Up?" He could see her blinking rapidly through her fingers. "I'm not making sense. Yes, I know I need to shut up!" She snapped as she looked out at the road.

Charlie ran a hand over her hair, feeling for any changes in her brainwaves even though he knew he wasn't going to find anything. He did find an increase in adrenaline and white blood cells and confirmed his theory that the drugs in her system had been rapidly burned out. He'd expected that. One thing he couldn't treat was the disorganised thoughts which Mary was currently experiencing.

"She's fine," he told the driver, feeling Mary quickly nod in agreement. Then again, he wouldn't put it past her to ignore being stabbed if it meant Sector 11 would leave her alone. (Well, that was an exaggeration. Hopefully.)

"Let's just get Sam so I can get home," she said loudly. "I just need some sleep." Sleep Mary wasn't getting because of her great idea to get drunk for the last few nights, Charlie wanted to comment. Her role as Prime stopped him pointing out she was an idiot, however. Such actions weren't respectful enough, despite the fact that as a medic he really should be allowed to try and stop her. He sighed loudly. Hopefully Sam had more common sense then Mary or the Matrix.

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Optimus felt the bond twitch again. The bond with the Matrix had been inactive for vorns, but now he could feel it clearly. For a moment he wondered if it was something to do with Earth and how the Allspark had been on this planet for the duration of the war. He waited for a moment, but the bond settled again, going still and silent.

He sighed, wishing that he could understand the bond more. If Primus wanted to save Cybertron, why would the Matrix stop talking to him or the Allspark stop producing sparklings? If their race was meant to persevere, why would they abandon him when he needed them most?

Why would the Matrix, which was meant to guide him, ignore the war?

It was the same question he had asked himself over and over again, but Optimus couldn't stop wondering now the war was over. There was nothing to distract him. He couldn't speak to anyone in his group about his doubts. They followed him because of his role as Prime. How could he tell them that Primus had abandoned them? It would destroy them, even after Megatron's death and the destruction of the Allspark.

Now that he had time to actually think about the situation with the Matrix, Optimus realized how many questions he actually had. Before there was always something to distract him. The growing horror whenever he realised how far his kind had fallen (how many races had they wiped out?) Battles planned for centuries that had barely lasted a day. He could even remember times in the war where centuries had passed without a single shot fired, but had been spent planning the next battle.

He'd stopped asking the Matrix for advice early on in the war. Now that the war was over, he still wasn't trying to speak to it. The war had been simple. It was survival. The Decepticons had wanted the Autobots (and organics) dead, so they fought back. But now? Megatron was dead.

Four million years of war finally finished, and he wasn't sure what to do. It was only now occurring to him that they had no planet to return to, and he didn't know how many Cybertronians were left on either side. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that there was no hope for their race if they continued fighting the way they were. He'd have to send out a message about the end of the war and hope that it was received. He'd also have to ask the humans for permission to remain on the planet. They also had to bury Jazz.

Optimus frowned to himself before contacting Sector 7. He could only hope they could explain this to the humans' Prime (The President, if his database was correct.) in a way that wouldn't offend them. He'd always found organic politics confusing. Many species could be offended by something as little as a wrongly worded sentence. Then again, most organic species met the Decepticons first and held the deaths they caused against the Autobots. Thankfully, the humans seemed to be more understanding and were willing to help. The humans he had met had seemed more open minded then most races he'd met, with that in mind he went to see about arranging a meeting the man.