Work Text:
all it takes is living
i want to fly
someone take me home
get me out of here…
- “Fate,” Four Star Mary
The sky is midnight blue construction paper, hole-punched and held up to a bright light. Sam blinks at the whiteness of the stars; they make his eyes water.
It’s been weeks since he’s seen anything other than the sterile white walls of the hospital room.
This will be the last time he looks at the sky.
It’s not so bad, really. He’s had 80 beautifully terrifying, indescribable years. Done things people could only dream of. Seen things others couldn’t conceive of. Forged friendships that have lasted lifetimes.
His is nearly done.
And this seems as appropriate a place as any to let it end. In the stretch of field outside of the base the Autobots have claimed as their own, lying on the warm earth, listening to the gentle lapping of the lake water and staring up at the night sky, wondering which of those stars was still burning and which was only a memory of light.
Bee, transformed, lies beside him, blue optics watching Sam carefully. And Sam swears there’s a look of consternation on Bee’s face. Maybe trying to figure out how it is that Sam at 16 has come to be Sam at 80 and a half.
Sam’s wondered the same thing himself.
At the end of it all, it’s the nature of humanity.
We are born of stardust, Sam thinks. We spark, we flare, so bright. And then we burn out.
A streak of a comet sears across the black-paper sky.
Sam smiles and closes his eyes.