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Secrets of the Groundbound Kind [Part 6]
Title: Secrets of the Groundbound Kind [Part 6]
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Prowl didn’t say anything, just watched the Ops mech as he lay there, staring off into nothing. When the Porsche next spoke, his voice was quiet and expressionless.
“I was so jealous when I first saw you, Bluestreak and Smokescreen. What was so different between you and me that my trine went to the Pit and yours could stay together?”
He looked down at his hands and the visor he still held. “It took a while for me to notice you had rows of your own, but even then… nothing tore your trine apart permanently, and you three will never lose the sky the way I did.”
“So that was why you kept away from us when we first… We thought it had something to do with our being seekerkin and the conditions wherein the Autobots found you.” There was a nod at the tactician’s realisation.
“Yeah. Watching a complete triad fascinated me at the same time as it hurt. Then Praxus fell and… I’m sorry, Prowl, but…”
“You thought it was only fair that we’d lost something too.” The Ops mech curled away from Prowl with a remorseful whine. The tactician replied with a reassuring chirr, only for other black and white to sit up and exclaim.
“Frag, Prowl! Don’t- I… Praxus is gone, and your family, friends and homes, everything, with it. You had more taken from you than I ever had to lose.”
“And what didn’t you lose when you had to flee Vos?”
When the Porsche just gaped at him, he sighed. “Do you think we three never looked at our comrades and wished they could know the same pain we did? I will not judge you for thinking something we ourselves thought.”
“Stop being so understanding, dammit!”
“Stop feeling guilt over an emotional reaction that you could not have helped.” Prowl countered mildly. “You managed to overcome it enough to reach out to us after Praxus.”
“…I heard what the others couldn’t, knew you weren’t coping as well as the others thought you were. I couldn’t just leave you three to your own devices.”
“Something for which I am grateful.”
“But-”
“Do you still feel vindicated that Praxus is gone? That my trine and I are the last representatives of our home city?”
“No!”
Prowl gently patted a white arm. “Let it rest. You had a selfish impulse. So have bots from the dawn of time. It would be illogical of me to hold this particular one against you.”
A quiet chuckle and the Porsche shot the tactician an exasperated look, then sighed. “You and your logic. In any case, you now know about my sordid past. Since I’m still online, and Ironhide hasn’t broken down my door, I presume you believe me.”
“You needed to tell someone. And, as I’ve said before, I have no reason to disbelieve you.”
“I… haven’t told you my real name though.”
A faint smile, and Prowl flicked his doorwings in amusement. “Isn’t it Jazz?”
The Porsche stalled, then a grin etched itself across his faceplates and his visor was slid back on. “Silly me. Of course it is.”
//Prowl! What the frag are you doing to Jazz? Bumblebee and Mirage went slagging rabid. I’ve had to offline them both!//
Both mechs startled at the fury in Ratchet’s comm., Jazz going from stunned to full blown worry when the medic’s words sank in.
“Offline… Prowl, if I’m forming a trine bond with them, why can’t I feel them? Even with one this new I should be able to sense something.”
“I asked them to keep calm and try to block the connection if they could, so that you would not be affected by their emotional states, nor would yours affect them while we had our discussion. Evidently, they only followed half of my request.”
“… Over protective glitches.”
“Your overprotective glitches.”
“… Frag. I’m going to get motherhenned to death once they wake up.”
“Welcome to the club.”
//Answer your fragging comm. before I hunt you down and turn you into a toaster, Prowl!//
“I think you need to get that.”
The Datsun sighed, huffing in mock offence at Jazz’s snickering before replying to the enraged medic.
//Yes Ratchet?//
//I repeat. What. Are. You. Doing. To. Jazz.//
//Nothing. We’ve discussed the issue of deep scanning our Ops mechs. Jazz was concerned, as expected, and from what you’ve mentioned, Mirage and Bumblebee must have picked up on his alarm. Did they give you too much trouble?//
//Ratch’, are they alright?// Jazz patched in, unable to restrain himself.
//Nothing I couldn’t deal with. And you. Get your aft back in here. You’re still under observation. Prowl, get him here before something ridiculous happens to him.// The CMO’s reply was gruff, and the two black and whites obediently agreed.
“He still hasn’t forgiven the chicken thing, has he.”
“He hasn’t.”
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“I know. But you can figure out how to plead your case to Ratchet while we move.”
“Good idea, I’m sure you’d make a handsome toaster, but you’d be frag all useless when the ‘Cons show up.”
“Thank you, Jazz.”
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Prowl didn’t say anything, just watched the Ops mech as he lay there, staring off into nothing. When the Porsche next spoke, his voice was quiet and expressionless.
“I was so jealous when I first saw you, Bluestreak and Smokescreen. What was so different between you and me that my trine went to the Pit and yours could stay together?”
He looked down at his hands and the visor he still held. “It took a while for me to notice you had rows of your own, but even then… nothing tore your trine apart permanently, and you three will never lose the sky the way I did.”
“So that was why you kept away from us when we first… We thought it had something to do with our being seekerkin and the conditions wherein the Autobots found you.” There was a nod at the tactician’s realisation.
“Yeah. Watching a complete triad fascinated me at the same time as it hurt. Then Praxus fell and… I’m sorry, Prowl, but…”
“You thought it was only fair that we’d lost something too.” The Ops mech curled away from Prowl with a remorseful whine. The tactician replied with a reassuring chirr, only for other black and white to sit up and exclaim.
“Frag, Prowl! Don’t- I… Praxus is gone, and your family, friends and homes, everything, with it. You had more taken from you than I ever had to lose.”
“And what didn’t you lose when you had to flee Vos?”
When the Porsche just gaped at him, he sighed. “Do you think we three never looked at our comrades and wished they could know the same pain we did? I will not judge you for thinking something we ourselves thought.”
“Stop being so understanding, dammit!”
“Stop feeling guilt over an emotional reaction that you could not have helped.” Prowl countered mildly. “You managed to overcome it enough to reach out to us after Praxus.”
“…I heard what the others couldn’t, knew you weren’t coping as well as the others thought you were. I couldn’t just leave you three to your own devices.”
“Something for which I am grateful.”
“But-”
“Do you still feel vindicated that Praxus is gone? That my trine and I are the last representatives of our home city?”
“No!”
Prowl gently patted a white arm. “Let it rest. You had a selfish impulse. So have bots from the dawn of time. It would be illogical of me to hold this particular one against you.”
A quiet chuckle and the Porsche shot the tactician an exasperated look, then sighed. “You and your logic. In any case, you now know about my sordid past. Since I’m still online, and Ironhide hasn’t broken down my door, I presume you believe me.”
“You needed to tell someone. And, as I’ve said before, I have no reason to disbelieve you.”
“I… haven’t told you my real name though.”
A faint smile, and Prowl flicked his doorwings in amusement. “Isn’t it Jazz?”
The Porsche stalled, then a grin etched itself across his faceplates and his visor was slid back on. “Silly me. Of course it is.”
//Prowl! What the frag are you doing to Jazz? Bumblebee and Mirage went slagging rabid. I’ve had to offline them both!//
Both mechs startled at the fury in Ratchet’s comm., Jazz going from stunned to full blown worry when the medic’s words sank in.
“Offline… Prowl, if I’m forming a trine bond with them, why can’t I feel them? Even with one this new I should be able to sense something.”
“I asked them to keep calm and try to block the connection if they could, so that you would not be affected by their emotional states, nor would yours affect them while we had our discussion. Evidently, they only followed half of my request.”
“… Over protective glitches.”
“Your overprotective glitches.”
“… Frag. I’m going to get motherhenned to death once they wake up.”
“Welcome to the club.”
//Answer your fragging comm. before I hunt you down and turn you into a toaster, Prowl!//
“I think you need to get that.”
The Datsun sighed, huffing in mock offence at Jazz’s snickering before replying to the enraged medic.
//Yes Ratchet?//
//I repeat. What. Are. You. Doing. To. Jazz.//
//Nothing. We’ve discussed the issue of deep scanning our Ops mechs. Jazz was concerned, as expected, and from what you’ve mentioned, Mirage and Bumblebee must have picked up on his alarm. Did they give you too much trouble?//
//Ratch’, are they alright?// Jazz patched in, unable to restrain himself.
//Nothing I couldn’t deal with. And you. Get your aft back in here. You’re still under observation. Prowl, get him here before something ridiculous happens to him.// The CMO’s reply was gruff, and the two black and whites obediently agreed.
“He still hasn’t forgiven the chicken thing, has he.”
“He hasn’t.”
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“I know. But you can figure out how to plead your case to Ratchet while we move.”
“Good idea, I’m sure you’d make a handsome toaster, but you’d be frag all useless when the ‘Cons show up.”
“Thank you, Jazz.”