Rehab

Sam had, have and, after a short and rather sad séance of self-analysis, will always have, all the reasons to think that her entire life is being lived by her rather poorly. Although who would’ve thought. She attends the most prestigious college in Washington. And gets paid for it. Not that she needs to. And also there’s a thing about her cars. Chevrolet Camaro, Pontiac Solstice, Chevrolet Volt... her group mates had very nearly choked themselves to death by the end of her first week of studies (that’s when the world-wide auto parade at the college front door had slowed down. A bit.) And today, she goes back home in a car that costs as a ten-times budget of some third world countries. One would think that a Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG in her life means Sam is very, very lucky. Shame on her said Mercedes turned out to be Soundwave, then. Who would’ve thought, eh… Her problem, Sam thinks, lies in her lack of attentiveness, plus some youthful maximalism, sea knee-deep and all that, and the ever infamous “I did a thing and then kinda forgot to think, period”. Hasn’t noticed her car shows signs of life? Plunged herself into a millions-of-years-war between alien factions, not to mention Matrix-style downloaded a Cybertronian analogue of Wikipedia into her brain. Made not the right conclusions after the talk at the cemetery? Died. And saw the Transformers Underworld. Hasn’t noticed other, more creepy entity awaiting her instead of ‘Bee on a parking lot? Goes back home in Soundwave and mentally prepares her will. The fact that there’s a Decepticons Comms officer instead of her usual black-and-yellow guardian Camaro, was only acknowledged by Sam after a sort of a segmented tentacle wheedled itself from beyond a semi-opened door (not noticing the difference between shapes and colors? So much like her, people have no idea) and without preamble snatched her inside. And any possible objections on the three-time world savior’s part were cut short with a simple “Objective: Deliver Samantha Jane Witwicky to her living place,” said in electronic monotone. Sam was so surprised by this show of care and kindness that she tamely allowed the tentacle to sit her on the driver seat and buckle her up. Then there was terror. Because the ‘con used the skirted route to actually deliver his passenger to her actual home. Now, Witwicky already suspected that enemy spies knew where she lives and what she does, but still hoped they had some semblance of self-preservation instinct and will not show up on a guarded territory… Dumping her tons of questions about such extraordinary situation directly on Soundwave Sam, in her near heart-attack state, risked not. In the silence of decepticon’s interior, the beat of a nearly jumping-out heart sounded unnaturally loud.