Chapter Eighteen
Hey everyone! It's Friday, so it's time for another chapter. Sorry I didn't get it up earlier, but my mom surprised me with a sudden trip to the beach and then I had to register for a summer class at my college. On to the chapter!
Title: To Catch a Thief
Rating: T
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, others
Several deca-cycles passed since Jazz’s recovery from his injuries and during that time he became used to his new position. Prowl wasn’t surprised that Jazz did his job better than the previous TIC did, and even went beyond the parameters of his job description. Not only did Jazz handle all Ops teams throughout the army, help run the base, and keep an optic out for possible traitors, he also kept up morale. It was in Jazz’s nature to be open and smiling, to help others with their problems, and to keep the morale up, reminding everyone why they were fighting.
It was an important job, and an unofficial one, but one that needed to be done. Prowl knew he would never be good at anything involving interpersonal relations with the others, not only because of his issues with emotions, but also because of the soldiers’ impression of him. He also believed no one could do the job better than Jazz. The only problem was that Jazz always tended to everyone else’s problems, but never to his own problems. No one seemed to see that Jazz could be just as upset as them, just as angry, or just as sad. But Prowl saw it, and it was easy for him to see.
“Jazz, would you come to my office please? I have something I need to discuss with you,” said Prowl from the doorway of the rec room. Jazz, who was surrounded by other mechs talking and laughing, looked up and grinned.
“Sure thing Prowler,” said Jazz. “Sorry mechs, I’ll have ta finish that story later.” The mechs around him groaned and sent annoyed looks at their SIC, which were easily ignored, as Jazz got to his feet and practically ran across the room. Prowl walked quietly down the hall with Jazz humming next to him. As soon as they made it to Prowl’s office, Prowl sat down and motioned for Jazz to do the same. “So, what d’ya need?”
“Nothing really,” said Prowl, door-wings flicking up and a small smile on his lips. Jazz shuttered his optics and stared at Prowl.
“Ya mean ta tell me, ya dragged me all the way here, just because ya wanted ta?” asked Jazz incredulously.
“No, I asked you to come with me because you looked like you could use a break from everyone else,” said Prowl softly. “You’re very good at helping others with their problems, cheering them up, and making them feel better, but you’re horrible at it when it comes to yourself.”
“What’re ya talkin’ about Prowler? I’m fine,” said Jazz with a grin.
“Jazz, how long have we known each other?” Jazz was a little startled by the question.
“A while, why?”
“Then you should know that you can’t hide from me. I can see that you’re stressed and need a break, so sit with me for a while.” Jazz sat quietly for several moments, his smile fading, before he released a gust of air from his intakes.
“I really can’t hide from ya, can I?”
“No, you can’t. You know I’m just as observant as you are, but I’ve done it for longer than you have.” Jazz chuckled wryly.
“Thanks Prowler.”
“What are friends for?” Jazz looked up at Prowl and then smiled widely, a real smile, which Prowl gladly returned, only a little more discreetly. Both leapt to their feet when the alarms rang through the base, alerting them to a Decepticon attack.
“They always have perfect timing,” muttered Jazz.
“Indeed,” said Prowl as they got their weapons and headed out to the battlefield. At first, the Autobots had the advantage, pushing back the ‘Cons away from the base and the city, but then Megatron pressed the attack himself, taking out several Autobots on his own. Everyone knew that Optimus was the only one that could take on Megatron in battle, but Optimus was on the other side of the battlefield, so Prowl leapt forward, drawing his energy swords while calling several others to assist him in stalling Megatron long enough for Optimus to arrive.
“You think you can defeat me?!” snarled Megatron as Prowl lunged forward. Nearby Autobots all fired on Megatron and then Prowl slashed at the giant mech with his swords. Megatron was surprised at the strength and speed of the Autobot tactician, but he was still not as strong as the Decepticon leader. Prowl kept pressing the attack, keeping the massive Decepticon on the defense, moving fast enough that Megatron couldn’t retaliate, but he could tell Megatron was getting frustrated.
“Prowl!” yelled Jazz from nearby. Prowl hesitated for a nano-klik, but that was enough for Megatron to lunge forward, swinging his fist. The impact sent Prowl flying, his chest plates caved in slightly from the force of the blow, and he slammed head-first into a nearby building, tearing right through the wall itself. “PROWL!” Megatron laughed loudly as the silver saboteur ran over to the building and peered inside frantically. Megatron’s laughter was suddenly cut off when Optimus slammed into him from behind.
“Harming my SIC was a bad idea Megatron,” growled Optimus as he began pounding Megatron’s armor, once again forcing the large silver mech on the defensive. After several moments of being brutally beaten, Megatron took to the sky while calling for a retreat.
“Prowl!” called Jazz as he carefully stepped through the hole in the wall, calling for Ratchet on his com-link. It was dark in the building, so Jazz turned on his headlights and gasped at what the light revealed. Prowl was laying on his back, his door-wings crumpled from the impact and landing on them, his chest armor bent in severely, his optics offline. Jazz dashed over and brushed debris off of Prowl’s body as he knelt down. “Prowl! Prowl, come on, wake up!” Jazz reached behind Prowl’s head to lift him up and gasped at the feeling of warm energon and torn armor. Gently lifting Prowl’s head, Jazz spotted the dent and tear in Prowl’s helm along with the leaking energon.
“Jazz! Where are you?!” yelled Ratchet.
“In here! Hurry Ratchet, it’s bad,” cried Jazz. Ratchet’s silhouette appeared in the hole and he gasped when he ran the scans on Prowl. The medic cursed creatively as he ran over and knelt down.
“We need to get him to the med bay immediately. I need to run diagnostics and scans to find out how bad the damage to his head is,” muttered Ratchet as he gently picked up Prowl.
“Ya can repair him, can’t ya Ratch?” asked Jazz worriedly.
“It depends on how bad the damage is,” muttered Ratchet. He stepped out of the building and found Optimus, Bluestreak, and Smokescreen waiting for him. The two Praxian mechs looked frantic with worry as their door-wings twitched erratically. “Optimus, you take him, you have a better chance of not dropping him.” Optimus nodded and gently took his SIC from the CMO’s arms and began to walk quickly back towards the base. As they walked, Autobots moved out of the way and watched with worried expressions as Optimus carried the black and white mech.
When they got to the med bay, Optimus laid Prowl on a berth and stepped back, allowing Ratchet to get to work. The medic immediately hooked up the door-winged mech to monitoring machines and an energon drip while pulling over different machines. Optimus stepped back towards the door where Jazz, Smokescreen, and Bluestreak were all watching with wide, worried optics, well, he assumed Jazz’s were worried because of the visor, but the silver mech was fidgeting anxiously.
“All of you out,” ordered Ratchet. “I don’t need you distracting me.” A few other medics walked over and escorted them out of the med bay, while they tended to the other wounded, though none were near as bad as Prowl. As soon as mechs were repaired, they were kicked out of the med bay to their own quarters until Prowl was the only patient left in the med bay. During this time, Ratchet was running all kinds of diagnostics and scans on Prowl’s processors, trying to find what kind of damage had been done.
Outside the med bay, Bluestreak paced back and forth as Smokescreen stood, door-wings twitching. Jazz leaned against the wall across from the med bay door and slid to the ground, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and other Autobots stood down the hall watching the trio, concerned. No one had ever seen Jazz without a smile and Bluestreak had never seemed so distressed, though he often worried for the well-being of the others.
“Blue, you gotta calm down or you’ll fry a circuit,” said Sideswipe gently as he stepped up to the sniper. Bluestreak merely ignored him, as did Smokescreen and Jazz. It was like nothing existed but the door they couldn’t open.
“Bluestreak, calm down,” said Sunstreaker as he stepped up, grabbing the grey mech’s wrist. “Ratchet’s the best, so calm down.”
“How can you tell me to calm down?!” snapped Bluestreak, startling the twins and the mechs down the hall. Jazz barely looked up and Smokescreen took a step towards his brother. “Prowl’s hurt and we don’t know how bad!”
“But Ratchet’s the best. And why are you so worried this time? I’ve never seen you like this when others were damaged. What makes Prowl so special?” asked Sideswipe.
“Because Prowl’s my brother!”yelled Bluestreak as he pointed at the med bay door. “I lost him once before and I don’t want to lose him again!”
“What?” asked the twins, shocked. The mechs down the hall were murmuring quietly to each other, clearly just as shocked as the twins.
“He’s your brother? But…I thought only Smokescreen was your brother,” said Sunstreaker. Bluestreak sighed and looked over to Smokescreen who looked troubled.
“I am his brother, but Prowl is our brother as well. He didn’t want anyone to know so that he could protect us,” said Smokescreen. “He has personal enemies amongst the Decepticons and he didn’t want them to target us just because we’re related to him.”
“That…explains a lot,” muttered Sideswipe quietly.
“I’m sorry we kept this from you, but it was necessary,” said Bluestreak.
“We get it, kind of,” said Sunstreaker. “We know what it’s like wanting to protect the only family you’ve got left.” The yellow twin glanced at his red twin.
“But…you said you lost him before, what did you mean by that?” asked Sideswipe.
“It was when we were younglings. Smokescreen was almost completely upgraded, but I was still pretty young, only in my first or second upgrade. Prowl had a disagreement with our creators, a big one and he ran away,” said Bluestreak.
“Wait, you’re saying Prowl, our wonderful rule-loving, by-the-book Prowl, ran away from home when he was a youngling?” asked the twins incredulously and Bluestreak smirked slightly.
“Yeah, he did,” confirmed Smokescreen. “He may be younger than me, but he was a smart youngling and he figured out how to survive on his own. Our creators…died in an accident shortly after that, but Prowl never returned.”
“Because of all the trauma…I forgot most of my younglinghood, including Prowl,” muttered Bluestreak quietly, hugging himself as his door-wings trembled. The twins inched closer together, unable to imagine living without each other. “Smokescreen ended up taking care of me himself, and he worked as an Enforcer. That’s how we met Jazz; he was an Enforcer and was transferred to Praxus.”
“So…Prowl’s the middle brother?” asked Sunstreaker pointing to the two Praxian mechs and they nodded. “Huh, I would’ve pegged him for the oldest.”
“Others have expressed that thought as well,” muttered Smokescreen dryly.
“And that’s when Jazz met Prowl too, right?” asked Sideswipe and Smokescreen nodded.
“And because of Jazz, Prowl got back in touch with us,” said Bluestreak, giving Jazz a grateful look over his shoulder. Jazz merely sat, listening as he still stared at the med bay door. “Smokey was furious at first, but I was just glad to have my brother back and to be able to remember him.”
“Of course I was mad at him; he had left and then never came back, not even letting us know he was still alive. He blocked our bond completely,” said Smokescreen, a hand moving to cover his armor over his spark chamber. The twins flinched at that; that was harsh. “But then a whole lot of slag happened and he joined the Autobots while I remained an Enforcer. The next time we saw each other was when Praxus…fell. We are all that’s left of Praxus.”
“And Prowl was the one that found me in the rubble of our home. He pulled me out and then Smokescreen showed up. He’s been keeping an optic on us both since then,” said Bluestreak with a warm smile.
“Though I’m the one who should be looking out for him, he is the SIC while I’m just a diversionary tactician,” said Smokescreen with a sigh. Everyone suddenly tensed as the med bay doors opened and Ratchet stepped out. Jazz leapt to his feet and stood tense, as if ready to slip past the medic to see Prowl. Ratchet raised an optic ridge at all the mechs gathered outside the door before sighing.
“How’s Prowl?” demanded Jazz.
“Fine for the most part,” said Ratchet as he glanced over his shoulder. “His door-wings, chest armor, and helm armor were easy enough to repair.”
“But…?” asked Bluestreak hesitantly.
“His processors are fine, no damage, but his battle computer…that was damaged,” said Ratchet and the nearby mechs stared at him in shock.
“But it’s because of his battle computer that we’re able to fight of the ‘Cons so often and without many casualties,” said Jazz. “Can you fix it?”
“Yes, but I’ll need Wheeljack’s and Perceptor’s help since the fragging thing is so complicated, and it could take a while, so I’ll have to yank it and Prowl will have to do without it for a couple of orns,” said Ratchet. Bluestreak, Smokescreen, and Jazz glanced at each other.
“Prowl’s never gone without his battle computer,” muttered Smokescreen. “He’s had it since he was a sparkling. There’s no telling what he’ll do or act like without it.”
“We’ll just have to risk it, or would you rather have him in stasis that whole time?” asked Ratchet as he crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl. “I still have to yank the thing, but when I wake him up, you three can be there. I want one of you with him at all times until we can figure out how he’ll react without it, and so you can call me if anything happens. Right now, I need one of you to inform Prime that his SIC is going to be out of commission for a few orns; no active duty, no tactical planning, nothing that would require his battle computer.”
“Prowl won’t be too happy about that,” muttered Smokescreen, but he turned to the twins. “Would you two mind going to tell Prime?” The twins nodded, understanding, and turned to leave.
“I’ll let you three know once I’ve removed the computer,” said Ratchet and he stepped back into the med bay.
“This is going to be interesting,” muttered Smokescreen. They didn’t have to wait too long for Ratchet to open the door and motion them inside. Prowl was lying on his stomach, his door-wings limp and optics dark, as another medic cleaned away the dried energon on the back of his helm. Bluestreak looked desperate to run over to Prowl, but held back as Ratchet took out the energon drip that was laced with a light sedative.
“He’ll wake in a breem or so,” said Ratchet softly and the three mechs nodded. That single breem was tense and silent, but they all perked up when they heard Prowl’s nearly silent systems begin to power up. Prowl’s optics came online dimly as his door-wings flickered, trying to pick up any sensory information to let him know where he was and who was around him. Bluestreak’s and Smokescreen’s door-wings fluttered in response and Prowl shifted his gaze to them.
“Hey Prowl,” said Bluestreak quietly. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” muttered Prowl. “My head hurts like the Pit, my door-wings ache, and I can’t think straight.” He carefully turned on his side before slowly sitting up, grimacing as his head pounded. He brought a hand up to his helm and rubbed it absently as he moved his door-wings, trying to get rid of the ache. He began running diagnostics to try and figure out why he felt so off and froze. “Where’s my battle computer?”
“It was damaged, so I had to remove it. I’ll be repairing it with Wheeljack and Perceptor. Until it’s repaired, you’re off active duty and you can’t work on anything dealing with tactics…or anything else you used your battle computer for,” said Ratchet and Prowl gaped at him.
“But-! I’ve never been without my battle computer, and without it-!” Prowl cut himself off before groaning and lowering his face into his hands. “I hate you Ratchet.” Ratchet shuttered his optics in surprise and then laughed. “And if Wheeljack blows up my battle computer, I’ll blame you when the Decepticons win.”
“He won’t blow it up with me and Perceptor working on it as well,” said Ratchet with a huff. “Anyway, what’s the last thing you remember?” Prowl looked thoughtful for a moment.
“The battle…I attacked Megatron to keep him distracted long enough for Optimus to get there, and then…” said Prowl as he rubbed his chest plates, cringing. “He got me in the chest and then…nothing.”
“He knocked you right through a wall,” said Ratchet and Prowl raised an optic ridge.
“Must have been mad,” said Prowl with a light smirk. Ratchet began looking over Prowl once more before stepping back with a nod.
“Well, that’s all I can do for you for now. I’ll let you know when I finish repairs on your battle computer,” said Ratchet as he turned away. “Make sure you get some energon soon and some recharge.” With that, he called Wheeljack and Perceptor to begin working on Prowl’s battle computer. Prowl turned to his brothers and Jazz with a small smile.
“I guess that means we should get going before he starts throwing wrenches,” said Prowl with a smile. Bluestreak grinned and hugged Prowl.
“I’m so glad you’re alright! I was so worried! It really scared me when I saw Ratchet carry you out of that building. You weren’t moving and your helm-!” ranted Bluestreak.
“It’s alright now Blue,” said Prowl gently as he rubbed the younger mech’s helm. “I wouldn’t leave you like that.”
“You promise?” asked Bluestreak and Prowl nodded. Smokescreen stepped forward and hugged Prowl as well.
“You nearly gave me a spark attack,” muttered Smokescreen.
“Sorry Smokey,” said Prowl, hugging the mech back. Jazz watched the scene with a faint, sad smile. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for Prowl’s current condition. It was because he had called Prowl’s name that the black and white mech had hesitated long enough for Megatron to hit him. “Jazz?” The silver mech looked up to see Prowl watching him, concerned.
“Hey Prowler,” said Jazz cheerfully, but Prowl merely frowned.
“Don’t blame yourself,” said Prowl and Jazz started in surprise. “I told you that you can’t hide what you’re feeling from me. You’re upset.” Jazz shifted uncomfortably. “Smokey, Blue, would you two mind going to the rec room to save a table for us, one out of the way if you can?”
“Sure Prowl, we’ll be waiting for you,” said Smokescreen as he pulled Bluestreak out of the med bay.
“Jazz,” said Prowl and he pat the berth next to him, inviting Jazz to sit. Hesitantly, Jazz slid onto the berth and froze when Prowl wrapped and arm around his shoulders. “It’s not your fault. You may have called my name, but I shouldn’t have hesitated. It’s been way too long since I’ve done any real training, so I can only blame myself.”
“But if I hadn’t called your name, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt! And you’d still have your battle computer,” protested Jazz as he tried to pull away from Prowl. The larger mech merely held tighter.
“I don’t blame you Jazz, and like I said, I’m sorely out of practice. As for my battle computer…I won’t have much control over my emotions for a while, if at all, and I won’t be able to work, but it’s better than being hurt much worse. I suppose I could think of this as a little vacation.”
“You? Taking a vacation?”
“The world’s coming to an end, I know,” said Prowl in such a tone that made Jazz laugh. “Well, we should get to the rec room before Smokey and Blue think something’s happened and come search for us.” Prowl stood and stretched, flicking his door-wings and giving Jazz a smirk over his shoulder. Jazz shuttered his optics at the sight, refraining from reaching out and tracing his hands along those elegant door-wings. Mentally shaking his head, Jazz hopped to his feet and followed Prowl out of the med bay.
As they walked, Jazz studied Prowl out of the corner of his optics, thankful that his visor kept Prowl from knowing he was watching him. Prowl seemed more relaxed, his gait more fluid than before, his door-wings were constantly moving, but the movements were still discreet, and he had a faint smile on his lips. It was like he was looking at a completely different mech. They were passing by the hall that lead to the High Command’s offices when Prowl’s door-wings flicked up and he paused, looking down the hall. Jazz paused as well and peered around his friend to see Optimus walking their way.
“Ah, Prowl, I was just coming by the med bay to see how you were doing,” said Optimus as he stopped next to them. “The twins informed me that your battle computer had to be removed in order to be repaired.” Prowl sighed and his door-wings lowered.
“Yes, unfortunately. I’m beginning to think Ratchet has it out for me,” said Prowl and Optimus raised an optic ridge while glancing towards Jazz who merely gave a tiny smirk and a shrug. “Anyway, I’m not looking forward to the next couple of orns. Without my battle computer, I can’t work, and…I’ll have little to no control over my emotions.”
“Well, I hope Ratchet can fix it soon. I’d like to have my SIC in top condition. I’m also glad you’re alright. Taking on Megatron was a foolish thing to do,” said Optimus and Prowl’s door-wings lowered a little more and he looked faintly sheepish.
“I know, but…at the time it was the most logical thing to do since you were on your way and no one else was capable of even stalling him,” said Prowl. “I don’t think I’ll do that again if I can help it.”
“Good,” said Optimus with a smile and Prowl’s door-wings lifted again as he hesitantly returned the smile. “Now, I need to go talk to Red Alert about a few things, so I’ll leave you two to whatever you were doing.” Prowl nodded and Optimus walked down the hall while Prowl and Jazz continued on their way to the rec room.
“You’re quiet Jazz,” said Prowl softly as he glanced at his friend.
“Well…you’re different. It’s a little strange,” said Jazz and Prowl nodded.
“I feel different, but…I’m still Prowl.”
“I know that mech, but…the way ya are now…it’s like I’m back in Praxus with ya. It’s like the war never started.” Prowl flinched when Jazz mentioned Praxus and his door-wings lowered, showing his sadness about what happened to his home.
“Do I really act so different now compared to earlier this orn?”
“Yeah, ya do. Ya were like this before, and then when I found ya here in Iacon…it’s like ya closed yourself off completely. It was like I had lost ma best friend, and now you’re back like nothin’ happened.”
“I’m sorry Jazz. I didn’t realize how much my earlier behavior upset you.” Prowl looked away from Jazz as he wrung his hands together in front of him. “I just…I can’t handle the emotions I have to deal with in a time of war. I feel as if I’m always fighting them off, running from them, and if I get caught, they’ll consume me completely and I’ll disappear. It’s just too much.” Prowl’s door-wings trembled and Jazz reached out, resting his hand on Prowl’s forearm. Prowl looked up with a pained expression.
“You’re not alone Prowler. I’ll help you fight them off, I’ll run beside you. You don’t need your battle computer to keep your emotions at bay, you can use me instead,” said Jazz as he took Prowl’s hands in his.
“You shoulder too much to deal with my problems too, Jazz,” said Prowl softly.
“It’s what I do mech,” said Jazz with a smile. “And you’re my best friend; I’ll help you before I help anyone else. Now, let’s go inside before Bluestreak and Smokescreen send out a search team.” Prowl smiled before chuckling. The pair stepped into the rec room and everyone inside instantly fell silent.