Falsity (Transformers Book AU)

[6]

Smokescreen stepped back and shook his helm as the matrix glowed brightly. He looked at the hammer and picked it up despite being tired from carrying it so far. He grunted as he dropped the handle into the Primes servo. The hammer glowed as it whirled insync with the matrix. He stepped back and grunted as a wave of energy hit him and knocked him against the wall...

~

Sam glared at his grandfather as he finished the tale. Troy stared at him as the older man's tears slowly fell down his face. There was silence between the two and Sam heard the commotion in his brothers room. He looked to it and his eyes widened in horror.

"No!" He screamed as tears filled his eyes. Troy stood up and hugged him tightly to keep him from running in. He picked up the boy and carried him outside as the boy sobbed.

"Oliver!" He cried as he reached for the room. "No! Oliver!" He screamed as his tears fell. Troy took him outside away from the scene and down to the small garden area. Troy sat down and held him close as he buried his face and let the boy cry.

"Grandpa please! I have to save him!" He sobbed as he tried to get away. "Smokescreen saves Optimus!" He shouted and the grandfather shook his head angrily then gripped his shoulders.

"This isn't a story!" He said and the boy stopped suddenly as he stared at him. "This... isn't... a story.... I... I shouldn't have... filled your heads... with fantasy..." he choked. Sam just stared at him then hugged him tightly as he sobbed.

"Don't give up... please..." he whispered quietly. Troy didn't respond and just held him close. He was such a fool to tell them a story.

Later they went back inside when the boys mother said Oliver was okay. Troy looked at his daughter and saw how tired she was again. He put an arm around her and she looked at him.

"It'll be alright Jess." He whispered quietly and she nodded as they walked. They went into the room and Sam ran over to his little brother.

"Are you alright Oliver?" He asked as he watched him. The small boy slowly opened his eyes and smiled weakly.

"Ya..." he rasped as he wheezed and held his hand up in a fist. "I... I'm strong... like... Optimus..." he whispered as he smiled. Sam gripped his fist in his own and smiled a little as his tears fell down his face.

"Yes you are." He said and hugged him gently. Troy watched quietly as Jess and her husband Erik walked over and spoke to their sons.

The grandfather looked to the open bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Why was he filling their heads with nonsense? Why wasn't he helping them learn to cope with the situation? He felt as if he had failed them.

The family spoke for a while then Jess went to talk to the doctor, while Erik took Sam to find him something to eat. Troy sat by his grandson and gently gripped his hand as he thought.

"Gran... dpa..." Oliver rasped weakly and smiled as he looked at him. "Will... you tell... me a... story?" He asked hopefully. The man didn't respond and slowly looked at him.

"Did... Optimus... get better?" He asked quietly as he wheezed. Troy fought back tears and stared at him.

"It's not real Oliver... those stories... they aren't real... this..." he mumbled as he motioned to the room and equipment. "Is real." He muttered bitterly. The boy seemed confused and his smile had faded.

"But... Grandpa... they help... I feel... happy when... you tell me..." he whispered as tears filled his eyes. He shook his head and fixed the boys beanie.

"No... no more stories..." he said as the boy just stared at him. The expression on his face broke the grandfather's heart.

"Please..." he begged. "I'm Optimus... I feel... brave... and strong..." he said weakly.

"You're not Optimus. You're Oliver and you are a sick little boy trying to get better." Troy said seriously and looked away, unable to see his heart broken face.

Oliver stared at him then started to cry. His grandfather was giving up on him. Of all the people that were helping him, he didn't expect his grandfather to give up. Why were they all giving up on him? Was he going to die even though they claimed he could fight it? 

He was so confused and it hurt to even cry. Maybe he was hopeless. He stopped crying then looked away from his grandfather as he stared out the window.

"Oliver?" Troy asked as the boy just stared blankly. He didn't respond and closed his eyes. "Oliver..." he whispered and hung his head as he thought of some other way to help him.

The boys parents came back and Troy silently left the room. He didn't say anything to anyone and went straight home. Once there he went into his office and stared blankly at his stories. He shook his head and went to his desk then read a few things.

He yelled angrily and shoved everything off. The man was angry with himself and furious with how stupid he was. He picked up his notes and anything else containing his stories. He went to the fireplace and tossed it all in before lighting it on fire. He found other papers and threw them in as well. He plopped on the couch and glared at the flames.

~

Megatron stared at the burning world as he stood on dark mount. He glared darkly as his men continued to burn everything and the other Cybertronians perished in the flames. He hated what had become of this world and wanted to destroy all of it. He scanned the area and saw Optimus struggling to fight as he defended a few weaker Cybertronians.

The warlord growled lowly and transformed then flew down and landed by the Prime. Fire burned around them and he stalked towards the leader. He shot at him and the Prime easily dodged as he yelled at the others to hide. The warlord fought him and quickly gained the upper hand.

"Give up Optimus." He growled as he unsheathed his blade. The Prime was wounded and looked as if he wouldn't last much longer.

"Never." He said defiantly. "I'll never stop fighting... this sickness you've inflicted on my world." He said.

~

Troy opened his eyes and stared at the flames. He sat up as he thought about the small story that played in his mind. He suddenly felt horrible.

He understood why Oliver was so upset at the hospital. It wasn't because of the fact that he refused to tell him stories, though it may have been part of it. But because to the boy, his grandfather was giving up on him. He buried his face in his hands as guilt and shame washed over him.

"What have I done?" He mumbled as tears fell down his face. He didn't feel he could go back now and face his grandson.