Note: Hello! It's been a long time since I wrote something for the Light!verse. For those just joining me and my TFA fics, the reading order for this series is: Faith in the Horizon, Light, Life is a Tree, Hands Free, Voice to Voice, Axioms, Paradoxes, Isomorphisms, Hindsight, Snowflakes and Tears, and this fic. They weren't written in that order, but that's the order they should be read for the series to make the most sense.
Hope you enjoy the show and thanks for stopping by!
Oh yeah, this fic contains SLASH.
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In the Shadow, In the Light
.o
"Caravan of life-
by day and by night.
Every tile's a part of life
if it's the shadow of light..."
-Enigma, "In the Shadow, In the Light"
.o
Distant laughter echoed off the concrete and metal streets of Detroit. Footsteps padded between vehicles and buildings.
The moon was full. A rarity on this holiday according to Earth's astronomical history. It's cool glow went unseen by the dark figure sitting on the rooftop of an abandoned building. Beside him, a tree growing through a hole in the roof whispered gently in the fall breeze. Each zephyr sent four sets of wooden wind chimes clattering.
Halloween night meant Prowl had the warehouse to himself. Almost. Ratchet went in for an early recharge. Optimus' teammates tried encouraging Prowl to treat his new 'look' like a costume and join them for an evening of trick-or-treating, but he politely refused.
How could they know?
How could they understand?
"If my first act as a bounty hunter was betraying my sacred sensei, everything since has been easy."
The weight of new armor did not compare to the heaviness of Lockdown's words. They reverberated through Prowl's mind and tore into his Spark like laser scalpels. All the grief he felt for Yoketron surfaced in waves. He wanted to contact Jazz and spill everything. But Jazz was still being debriefed by Sentinel Prime. Prowl couldn't bring himself to comm him and interrupt such an important meeting.
Instead, he sat on the roof, oblivious to the Halloween celebration happening in the city. He cried. He meditated. He cried some more. He meditated again. He tried to squelch the pure hatred welling in his Spark like a stain.
Finally, Prowl knew finding wisdom was the only way to stop himself from seeking and destroying Lockdown.
He hopped down into his private quarters. After taking off the new armor and setting it beneath his tree, he slipped into Ratchet's room. Finding what he needed only took a moment. The medic never flinched. Prowl returned to his quarters carrying a small coil of destronium solder.
To the average bot, destronium was just a piece of metal. An element for patching up circuitry or building armor. Few knew destronium was also a powerful drug. When ingested in liquid form, it slowed the Spark and placed bots in a state of near death until their body processed it. A large enough dose could kill an untrained mech.
Prowl kept this in mind while he pulled out his tea ceremony kit. He measured the destronium carefully and cut off a strip no longer than his index finger. That would be enough. The tiny piece went into the ceremonial bowl. He switched on the heating element underneath and sat back to wait. The destronium emitted an awful, bitter smell when it began to melt.
Cyber ninjas believed consciousness existed as a shell program that encompassed everything a person learned during their lifetime. At death, this program stopped running, allowing the Spark to download the bot's consciousness and travel into the Well of Allsparks.
Destronium temporarily disabled this shell program, offering a glimpse of beyond. The scriptures Yoketron read aloud were written by mechs who attained wisdom through this form of meditation. He followed it with a warning that destronium experiences were intense, and should never be used as an escape from reality.
Prowl scraped a piece of flint against the floor. The spark it created lit the iodine stick in his other hand. He faced the tiny statue of Primus sitting beside the door, bowed three times to wash the purifying iodine smoke across his body and set the burning stick in a little bowl he'd fashioned out of a metal bucket.
"I give myself to the iodine vapors. I give my audios to the wisdom I seek. I am open." Prowl whispered the prayer to himself. "Primus, I ask that you guard my Spark until this journey is complete."
The bitter smell gained a new sharpness, signaling the destronium had completely melted.
Taking a deep intake, Prowl picked up the bowl and quickly drank the smoking concoction. He coughed violently upon swallowing. It tasted bitterer than the medicinal tonics Yoketron used to boil. Garbage seemed like potpourri compared to this!
Prowl clutched at his throat. The tea bowl clattered to the floor. He crawled aimlessly until his hands found the edge of his low recharge berth. His innards started to burn. The scriptures never mentioned the utter pain.
With a groan, Prowl curled up in a ball on his berth. The world around him wavered. He could hear his own oscillators clattering. Their tiny vibrations moved to encompass his whole body.
A black hole formed in the middle of his quarters. Everything whirled towards it. He instinctively clung to the side of his berth to avoid being sucked into the growing maelstrom.
...but it happened anyway.
.o
Prowl stirred. He was lying flat on his back. Every millimeter of his body tingled- even the spaces under his dental plates. A strange sensation gave him pause. It went away when he reached up to make sure his visor was in place, and it came back when he shifted his hands away.
Moving proved difficult. Prowl rolled onto his side. The disquieting feeling went with him. His hand hit the floor.
Wood. Hardwood.
His hand...
Prowl lifted his head. He recognized the wood by his sense of touch. His oscillators told him the floor was brown. They told him his hand was black with gold fingers. And yet...something didn't feel right.
He slapped his fist against the floor. The muted echo told him what he needed to know.
I'm in Yoketron's dojo.
A distant scraping sound caught his attention. Finally, something that made sense. Prowl covered his visor with one hand to stop the weird sensation in his head. Then he rolled onto his feet and followed the muffled sizzle of an iodine stick being lit. His footsteps took him through a narrow doorway where the vastness of the training room gave way to something smaller, quieter and more intimate.
"You are questing, young one," said a deep, painfully familiar voice. Prowl's Spark ached at hearing it. "And it is wisdom you seek."
"Master Yoketron." Prowl exhaled the words. He bowed, slid to his knees at Yoketron's side and reached his free hand towards the familiar presence.
"Prowl," Yoketron's fingers bent and straightened smoothly without the hindrance of arthritic rust. "Why do you cover your face?"
"Something is wrong." Prowl lowered his head. "Something feels different."
"How so?"
"I-I don't know. I'm...frightened by it."
"Then let me." The old Grand Master moved Prowl's hand. Prowl's disorientation returned immediately. He shut off his oscillators, but the strange feeling persisted.
Yoketron guided Prowl's hands forward. His sensei's serious face became familiar through touch. No tiny wrinkles in the cyber-mesh- he was in his prime again.
"You are in a place where physical flaws are of no consequence," said Yoketron. "Have no fear, Prowl. You are seeing."
"S-seeing?" Prowl raised his hands and moved them around. The unnatural feeling followed them. He turned to his left. A void in the ground made him jump up, and it moved with him! "Oh!"
"Prowl, meet your shadow. Shadows always fall opposite to where a light shines."
The void mimicked Prowl's movements when he lowered onto his knees once more. He faced Yoketron again, struggling to make sense of the sensation- of seeing.
"Then that feeling- " Prowl gestured at the round object on Yoketron's right, "-that is a light?"
Yoketron removed the round thing, exposing something that moved. "This is a flame, Prowl, and it gives off light. Its color is- "
"Wait, let me..." Prowl lowered his head. He switched his oscillators back on. Their vibration frequencies let him remember the right word. "...it's yellow. That's yellow. Oh, it reacts to the slightest touch of air. Incredible!"
Yoketron held the lamp close. Half his face was illuminated and half fell into darkness.
"The truth is always found where light and shadow touch." He said. Then he blew out the flame, leaving the room dimly lit by small halogen lanterns beside the door, and stood up. "Come."
They both bowed to the Primus statue- Prowl tried to make sense of it without touching it, but couldn't- and followed his sensei back into the main room.
"Your armor is white," Prowl said in awe. Jazz's armor was white, too. Mostly. "It's the opposite of black, isn't it?"
"It is. And this..." Something about Yoketron's face changed, and his voice shifted slightly to reflect it, "...is what?"
"A smile?"
"Correct."
It was so much to take in. Prowl covered his face in both hands to shut out this...vision...and sat down on the floor.
"It feels wrong to me. I want to see something beautiful, but...I wouldn't know it if I saw it. I'm so lost..."
Yoketron moved Prowl's hands off his face again. He wasn't smiling anymore. He flipped his hand palm-down and something appeared above his wrist. Another face. One Prowl could not touch to identify.
"You know this face."
Prowl pursed his lips as he went through his memories of shape and form. His expression softened.
"That's Jazz."
At Yoketron's nod, Prowl tilted his head back in disbelief.
"He arrived at my dojo with the sun. From an early age, he was taught the cyber ninjas are the most spiritual people on Cybertron. Ultra said Jazz would one day stand before me."
"You and Ultra Magnus- "
"Mm. We were close friends." Yoketron said, "The moment I opened my door to Jazz, he begged me to forgive him for what he had done. He said one of the flawed mechs he was about to euthanize spoke to him. He thought he was a murderer, and he wanted absolution. I told him it would arrive in its own time." He smiled again, gently, "Many stellar cycles later, you spoke of your experience, and I realized your futures intertwined."
Prowl ducked his head and smiled as warmth coursed through his Spark. "You said 'that one would interest you' in the Room of Memory. You- you really knew. And the morning I ran into Jazz- that wasn't just an artifact in my oscillators. It was you, wasn't it?"
Yoketron chuckled. "You always needed a little push, Prowl." He pulled Prowl to his feet. "Now, let us go outside and experience faith."
Prowl brought his forearm across his visor to shut out the visual input. He let his Master guide him out the door through which he first came to this dojo and later left it on his optics quest.
Once again, Yoketron made him lower his arm. Darkness stretched as far as Prowl could see, broken only by points of light. They continued up into the sky, where their colors were different. He found it difficult to determine where the ground ended and the sky began.
"Are those the stars?"
"Mm, the stars are above us."
"Their light moves..."
"Yes. Just like fire. Their light is affected by movement in the atmosphere."
"How many are there?"
At that, Yoketron scooped up a handful of sand. Sand on Cybertron wasn't the same as Earth's beaches- it came from old sawdust and ground up gravel tracked off the roads. He held his hand aloft and let the sand trickle through his fingers. The grains blurred together, making them impossible to count.
Prowl started to ask more, but Yoketron grasped his shoulder and turned him due east. "And that is the horizon."
"I...don't see it."
"You must believe it exists until dawn comes to prove its existence. That is why having faith in the horizon is to be patient with the night, Prowl. Because the sun will rise eventually, and all will be understood."
The colors began to change. Oddly, it happened slowly if Prowl watched, yet rapidly whenever he glanced away and looked back again. All at once the line where the sky met the ground made itself known. Shapes- rectangles, triangles and the occasional square- became clearer. They were buildings.
"Oh! The sky! It's...blue- no, it's...is that purple? Wait, no, now- I'm not sure what color that is, but it's turning yellow like your candle. So many colors, Master Yoketron! How is it doing that?"
"How is it- oh my, you sound like a new-Spark! Oh, Prowl, haha-aha-aha-aha!" Yoketron had the funniest laugh Prowl had ever heard in his life. So open and free, and his whole face changed. It made his optics close tightly and left him clutching his chest. If Prowl hadn't heard it himself long ago, he never would've believed his sensei capable of such a sound.
"Simple physics, young one." Yoketron choked out, "Simple physics!"
His mirth resumed. Prowl grinned and joined him. By comparison, his amusement was more reserved. They laughed together until the horizon appeared to catch on fire.
Prowl stopped to watch the sun break through the colorful display. Its brightness hurt and he quickly turned away. His shadow didn't frighten him this time.
Yoketron was studying him. People's faces moved a lot, Prowl realized. Mouths, eye ridges and cheeks- they shifted to create facial expressions. He didn't know what it meant, but he didn't want to sound foolish by asking.
"I found out who killed you," Prowl said simply. "Lockdown was the flawed bot you found in the alley behind your dojo, wasn't he?"
"Yes." Yoketron moved his head slightly up and down in what Prowl assumed was a nod.
Prowl clenched his fists at his sides. "I tried to avenge you, but he escaped. I hate him, Master Yoketron. I hate him."
"Prowl."
"What?"
Yoketron ducked his head and closed his optics. "Lockdown hates himself enough, do not add to it."
Did existing in the Allspark warp Yoketron out of his mind? He died a senseless death at the hands of a traitor! Even the Decepticons frowned on their traitors as nothing but trash!
"Lockdown is the product of a society that hates and destroys those who are physically different. You cannot blame him entirely for something he was taught to believe within moments of being protoformed. The choices he made in his life after that moment were all colored by society. Yes, he made the wrong ones. Power is a choice. One can use it, or one can abuse it." Yoketron lifted his head to squint in the sunlight. "I loved him with my whole Spark, but it wasn't enough to save him from his self-loathing."
"But he killed you..."
"He left me to die of my wounds. And I forgave him."
"Why?" Prowl pressed.
Yoketron answered, "Because he did not want to do it."
"But- "
"I heard him cry as he left my ruined dojo." Yoketron said, his deep voice never losing its calm. "It is the past and it can't be changed. I may have failed him, Prowl, but I did not fail you."
Aghast, Prowl turned away to face the horizon again. Now the sun was higher in the sky, but still painfully bright.
He voiced the words quivering on his lips. "Master Yoketron, I wasn't ready to lose you."
The old ninja's strong, yet delicate hand squeezed his shoulder.
"Just as I was not ready to lose my sensei," said Yoketron. "One is never ready to say goodbye to those they care about. How you face such difficulties determines who and what you become. True inner strength comes from overcoming the obstacles in our lives, be they physical, mental or spiritual."
Then he hopped onto the concrete divider between the dojo and the main street. He looked like a shadow against the bright sunlight as he performed several motions without losing his balance. His whole body flowed from one posture to the next, even when he jerked his leg up in a kick or swung his fist faster than sight could follow.
Being able to see the movements matching the whirrs of his servomechanisms made it a completely different experience. Prowl wondered if he looked the same performing those katas- and by faith, he believed he did.
"What is this, Prowl?"
"It's a Metallikato kata."
"Yes, but how am I moving?"
Prowl tightened his lips in concentration. He knew the correct word would come if he let Yoketron physically lead him through the motions. And he also knew Yoketron wouldn't make it that easy.
How did people manage their daily lives with such intense sensory input?
"You're moving..." He took a guess, "...gracefully?"
"Indeed. You're learning how to see things."
Yoketron bent his knees, brought both arms across his body and sprang upward. He back-flipped over Prowl's head and landed without a sound- Prowl only noticed him by the faint breeze of his landing.
Like a gentle wind...
Suddenly, Yoketron extended his fist. He held it there for several seconds. Prowl stared at it until Yoketron's lips quirked in a half smile. His fingertip flicked the end of Prowl's nose. Then he straightened again, closing only his left optic.
"Come, it is time for one more lesson."
That must be a wink, Prowl mused to himself. He followed Yoketron gingerly with his hands outstretched, not trusting his sight to tell him what was an obstacle and what wasn't. Sometimes, things that appeared tiny were far away, and other times they were simply small. Likewise, large things were either close, or just huge. Even more confusing, small things grew whenever he ventured closer and large things shrank whenever he moved away.
An epiphany hit him. No wonder the stars appeared as points. Massive as they were, they existed far off in space. The sun was just a normal star like any other, but it looked so large and bright due to is closeness. From another planet, it would be one of many stars speckling the night.
Perspective...ah, I understand!
Suddenly, Prowl realized the universe was a whole lot bigger than he ever imagined.
"Prowl?"
"I'm coming," Prowl replied.
He recognized the Quintessan vine in the washroom window, although touching it made it more real to him. It coiled all the way to the top and clung tight to its central bar.
The vine is green, and the buds are white...
Yoketron cleared his vocal apparatus. He stepped to the left of the doorway and pressed a button. The wall panel across from the door slid aside, and Prowl faced the other bot standing behind it.
"Hello?" Prowl walked forward and the other mech did the same. "I'm Pr- "
He smashed into a solid surface.
"What the?" Prowl rubbed his face. The second person also did it. Like his shadow, they copied his every move.
Fortunately, Yoketron didn't laugh. He was, however, smiling again.
"Prowl, meet your reflection."
A mirror. He was looking at himself in a mirror.
"What do you see?"
"Um...I'm black and gold. My jump jets? Yes, my jump jets- they're taller than I thought."
Yoketron reached out. He took Prowl's visor off. Against all logic, Prowl was able to look at his own eyeless visage.
"And now?"
Prowl felt the spaces where his eyes were supposed to be. He couldn't see if his hands blocked those areas, so he explored them one at a time. Learning his own face through the mirror and his sense of touch.
"It's just me. Jazz tells me I look beautiful. Do I?"
"What do you think?"
"I..." Prowl stood up straight. He tightened his lips into the only frown he could manage without optics or eye ridges. The very expression Jazz sometimes called 'cute.' He moved his hand and realized the light played off his armor. "I'm the color of shadows, but my armor reflects light."
A sudden urge overcame him. He parted the plating in his chest and beheld the white glow of his own Spark. It looked like the sun and it made soft whirring noises with each pulsation.
"That is beautiful," Prowl whispered.
"Yes. You have achieved all I can teach you. You see who you are without optics," Yoketron replied, his voice equally quiet. "I could not convince Lockdown of the same- he cannot hear the thrum of his own life, a sound that exists beyond audios. It is because of society's many voices speaking against him that he chose not to hear the single voice speaking for him, and that is the reason he is who he is."
Prowl faced Yoketron again. He seethed at Lockdown's name. Staying calm took all his willpower. "But he chose to- "
Yoketron held up a hand. "Hate the deed, not the person." He gave Prowl his visor. "The hardest lesson is to love our enemies, my young friend. Even if we must extinguish their Sparks for the greater good, we must never do so in hatred. Always with love. Because it may be the only love they experience in their lifetime."
"Have you ever...?"
"The Academy history files say a single ninja destroyed every Decepticon drone in a camp near Simfur. Their body parts were strewn everywhere. It took days to collect the pieces and identify the drones." Yoketron met Prowl's gaze. His voice dropped low. "It did not feel like a victory to me. It was murder. It was chaos. It was hatred."
Prowl skipped an intake cycle. In all the time he'd known Yoketron, he never knew him capable of such viciousness. The bodies had not been cut up- they were brutalized and torn apart.
"Why?"
"They killed my sensei. His name was Master Smokescreen." Yoketron walked closer to Prowl. His optics were brimming with mech fluid. "And killing his killers did not erase the pain of losing him. It merely added to the death toll and turned me into yet another killer. Hatred pulls you down, but love raises you above your enemies."
He placed his hand on Prowl's shoulder. "Call upon Primus to love for you if you cannot do it yourself, but you must never be present at the end of someone's life with hatred in your Spark. Whether your hand causes their death or not, see the person off with love. If you don't, the memory will leave a stain on your conscience for the rest of your life."
Then he blinked and the mech fluid in his optics was gone. "I consider it fortunate you weren't in the dojo when Lockdown ambushed me. You escaped a fate worse than witnessing my demise."
"But I still failed you. I tried to keep you- "
"You went against our beliefs about one body per Spark, but in doing so, you saved a flawed protoform from certain death."
"I- did?"
"The movement centers of its CPU were fused. I could only move my head and right hand. Your desperate act saved a potential new-Spark from the torture of immediate termination. And in that moment, I understood how difficult life was for Master Smokescreen, you and Lockdown. A difficulty you have done well in overcoming."
Prowl's head began to hurt like someone started an engine with a bad muffler inside his skull case. He shook it off.
"Your sensei, he was..."
"Yes. He was a flawed mech. Blind, like you, and his visor covered up a deformity in his facial structure. He was protoformed at a time when a new bot was tested for functionality. It only took a mere hundred-thousand stellar cycles for the entire system to become what you know now, and he had to hide his flaw. The coroners discovered it after his death and immediately disassembled him for study. No one would put his name on the memorial wall for the honored dead."
He sighed, shaking his head. "Even if Cybertron does not remember him, I do. It is because of Master Smokescreen that I stretched out my servos for any flawed mech who came to my dojo. He said his memory would live on in me by carrying on his knowledge. Now I stand here before you, and I know I have succeeded."
Yoketron touched the gold accents on his helmet. "This helmet belonged to my sensei. I made myself worthy of it when I took over my dojo. Now, it belongs to you, Prowl." He reached out to pull Prowl close. His voice, old and familiar, rumbled, "You have become the cyber ninja I know you to be, and I am proud of you."
"Master." Prowl bowed his head. He reciprocated his sensei's friendly embrace.
"There is nothing more I can teach you," Yoketron continued. His voice started to echo. "You must learn the rest yourself." He cupped the back of Prowl's head. "You are my greatest student, and I know you will excel in all you do."
Everything in Prowl's Spark squeezed tight. The grief he felt at losing Yoketron rushed to the surface. For once, he was able to express it in tears. They ran hotly down his face plates.
"M-Master Yoketron, please, don't leave me again." Prowl looked into his sensei's optics and tried to memorize the wisdom he saw in them. "I still need you."
"And I hope you always do," Yoketron said back, smiling. He blessed Prowl by kissing his brow and wiped his tears away with his thumbs. "May Primus guide you and keep you, Grand Master Prowl."
Details began to run together. Sounds reverberated like speakers turned up too high. There was no more washroom. The world became just them standing together in a strange, foggy void.
Prowl clutched Yoketron's wrists, desperate to stay anchored to him. "Master Yoketron..."
"Denying the future by clinging to the past will not solve your problem, Prowl. The answer you seek is already in your mind." Yoketron used a simple wrist flick to make Prowl let him go. He bent forward in a respectful bow. His white and gold armor shimmered, and within moments all that remained of him was his Spark. "Goodbye, my young friend."
His Spark rose toward a spiral similar in shape to the Quintessan vine. It was brighter than the sun, yet looking at it didn't cause pain.
An immense being cradled the light in its hands. When it looked at Prowl through white optics larger than the horizon, it exuded a feeling of love beyond imagining. It did not judge him, it did not question him. It simply accepted him.
Somehow, Prowl knew Jazz looked at him exactly the same way.
And it felt beautiful.
Prowl fell to his knees and raised his arms towards the loving presence. Its hand extended towards him. The second he touched its fingertips, he recognized the being he prayed to.
He's real!
A single sentence came from its mouth. A series of words louder than thunder and bigger than the universe.
Be at peace.
Everything began to disappear. Prowl sank into the spinning darkness until the world became silent.
.o
Birds twittered. Their song was an indistinct wall of sound that gradually attained proper clarity.
Prowl groaned as he struggled out of the quiet fog he'd slipped into. He held something metal in his hands. A brief touch exploration revealed Yoketron's empty helmet. Somehow, in his drugged state, he had crawled towards the pile of new armor and embraced it.
Sunlight poured into the hole in the roof. Prowl lifted his face towards the brilliance he could no longer see, but knew was there by its warmth. He tried to remember his experience. The visual elements refused to come. Everything else remained clear. Yoketron's voice, touch and kindness...they stayed fast in his mind. And the other...he'd selfishly wanted to ask for Yoketron back and didn't get the chance.
Prowl sighed, wondering if he would ever stop missing his sensei. He ran his hands along the armor's sharp pauldrons, felt the heavy jump jet boosters and studied the rough, layered tassets.
Lockdown's hands fashioned this. Prowl thought to himself. This is power he was going to abuse. I can use it for good. My choice is to not let these mods go to my head.
He took out the polishing cloth and ran it along the armor until everything felt smooth.
Prowl's shadow grew as he donned the mods he earned in battle. His throat ached when he pulled Yoketron's helmet down onto his head. It brought forth a dozen memories- and through them, he smiled.
He lowered his firewalls to accept the software that came with the mods. All coded by Lockdown. Prowl scanned for viruses and was surprised to find none. The jump jet boosters had an auto-sequence that would automatically take him any direction he selected. Not a replacement for his own directional sense, but handy just the same.
More birds landed on the roof and chirped.
Prowl knelt in the sunlight to clean up the tea ceremony supplies. The bowl he dropped last night somehow rolled under his desk. Once he got that put away, he grabbed his push broom. Sweeping his space until no dust scraped under his feet helped clear his mind.
Destronium's one advantage- it left no ill effects after use.
Hm... Prowl caught an errant falling leaf out of mid air. A dozen more whispered to the floor.
Without thinking about it, Prowl hummed low in his throat. His voice found the tonal frequencies of the fallen leaves. He let himself resonate until they floated into the pile in the corner, where they fell with soft plops.
Everything had its own frequency. Mastery of processor over matter was the ability to resonate one's Spark in harmony with the environment. In order to do it successfully, one had to be harmonious within themselves, first.
Funny, it took a deaf bot to help Prowl hear his own inner music.
He smiled at the irony, scooped up his clippers and began pruning the branch in front of him.
Footsteps approached his door. He smelled a familiar tangy scent. The smooth voice belonging to it spoke.
"Diggin' the new armor. Especially Yoketron's helmet. He'd be proud to have you wear it."
Prowl's fingers stilled against the leaves. For one nanosecond, an instant so brief, he remembered seeing Jazz's face. He turned towards Jazz, smiling with pride, and bowed respectfully.
"Thank you," he said. "I plan to do everything in my power to be worthy of it."
"Yeah, and I know you will, too." Jazz hit the button that closed Prowl's door. He came closer. "I brought you something."
"Oh?"
Prowl accepted the box being handed to him.
"Thank you, I needed another box," he joked dryly.
Then he lifted the lid to touch what resided inside. His probing fingertips encountered the soft, gel-like screen of an old fashioned LCD display. Screens like that hadn't been seen for at least a thousand stellar cycles.
"It's a data pad," Jazz said. He helped Prowl lift it out of the box. This device felt a little larger and thicker than an average handheld.
"Very nice, but you know my oscillators have trouble resolving standard sized glyphs." Prowl fingered the buttons and dials along the side.
"Yeah. Heh, I made this special for ya." Jazz's smooth voice had a smile in it. He guided Prowl's fingers to a button in the upper left corner. "Feel the screen again."
Prowl did, and he found a peppering of the dots humans called Braille. They were like tiny bubbles in the gel.
Jazz shifted his free hand to the dial. "If you turn this, it'll make 'em stick up more or less. And the one below makes the cells bigger or smaller." He clicked his tongue to indicate a wink. "This baby can take anything you throw at it and turn it into that Braille stuff. Ya dig?"
"Oh...Jazz..." Prowl's fingers swept across the display. He adjusted the dots to his preference and read it again. A menu screen. The keyboard slid out of the bottom, and he discovered Jazz got Braille on those, too.
"Now don't be too shocked if your oscillators buzz in the dark with this. The screen lights up, so it'll look like you're reading normal glyphs. You can surf the internet or read data files off almost anything you can download data from. It plays music, too, if you feel like jamming." Jazz's voice dropped low. "By the way? I already put Tales from the Lover's Spark in for you. I know it's your favorite."
Prowl's face burned with mild embarrassment- most people made fun of that novel for being too overdramatic- but he leaned forward to plant a kiss on Jazz's cheek. "You're incredible, Jazz. Thank you. Where did you find the data file? It's not something people have laying around."
"It's Ultra Magnus' favorite novel, too. I swiped his copy. He won't be reading it for awhile."
"I see." Prowl lowered his head and grinned, touched by Jazz's thoughtfulness. Still, the reason Ultra Magnus wouldn't be reading it stopped him from throwing Jazz on his berth and thanking him in a more physical manner.
Nobody saw Shockwave coming. Now Ultra Magnus was on Spark support and barely clinging to life.
The tree dropped more fall leaves. Prowl set the data pad aside, reached for the broom and swept the leaves into the corner. A sizeable pile had built up. He planned to gather them in a tarp for campfire kindling the next time Jazz took him out camping.
"That tree's keeping' ya busy."
"It's a full time job in the fall." Prowl leaned on the broom. His smile slipped. "You're leaving soon."
Jazz nodded audibly. "Yeah. Cybertron's a mess."
"Will Ultra Magnus survive?"
There was a tension in Jazz's voice. An edge that hurt. "I dunno."
Prowl set the broom aside and held out his hands. Jazz came forward and clasped them. Prowl tilted his head to accept the kiss he knew was coming.
"I learned something crazy. Found out about it when Ultra Magnus sent us down here after Wasp. I wanted to tell you, but there was never enough time. You got time now?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"How much do you know about Sparking, Prowl?"
Startled, Prowl gasped. "Only cyber ninjas with extensive training in processor over matter can accomplish it. To pull that much energy from one's own Spark and survive...it's pretty frowned upon by modern society now. Just like flawed mechs."
"Mmhmm." Jazz gathered Prowl close and kissed his cheek. "But Ultra Magnus did it anyway. Long, long time ago when he was just a Prime. Yoketron and Ultra Magnus were best buddies. And Yoketron stood guard in case the Sparking went wrong. Ultra Magnus did his thing and placed the new Spark in a protoform. He stayed long enough to see its face. Then he had Yoketron take the new-Spark to the Academy to be brought up as an Autobot."
"But why? Why not keep the new-Spark close?"
Jazz just shook his head. "He thought he was gonna die in the war. He wanted to leave something of himself behind."
Prowl chuckled and gave Jazz's hand a squeeze. "So, are you going to take me to meet this bot?"
"Sure, here he is." Jazz led Prowl's hand to his face. His voice cracked when he spoke. "Ultra Magnus is my dad, Prowl. That's the word they use on this planet, right? He's my dad." His jaw clenched. "I spent my whole life wondering why I had this memory of his face leaning over me and why I felt like I already knew him. Now I know. I'm three million years older than I thought I was! Is that wild or what?"
Suddenly, Jazz sat down under the tree. Prowl patted his lover's knees to make them straighten out and sat astride his lap.
"He said he was sorry for not raising me. He went through a lot of scrap to keep my origins a secret." Jazz went on, and his voice cracked again. "Frag it all, Prowl, I wish I knew sooner. I shoulda been there to stop Shockwave. I wanna find that glitch-head- " he smashed his fist into his palm, "- and slag him!"
"Oh, Jazz..." Prowl bent and kissed Jazz's cheek. It was wet with saccharine mech fluid. Memories of what Yoketron said echoed through his mind. "Even if you did catch Shockwave, hurting him won't undo the damage to Ultra Magnus. All you will accomplish is becoming what you despise."
"Yeah. Yoketron used to say that." Jazz's quivering lips twitched in a half-smile. "He was pretty cool for an old bot. Heh, heh, the first ten years I was there, he made me wear a gag any time I wasn't eating or drinking because I talked too much."
For Prowl, that scenario wasn't hard to imagine. Jazz could talk the bark off a tree if he wanted to. But, thanks to Yoketron, he knew when to temper his chatter into silence.
"Mm, yes, Bumblebee could've benefited from that lesson." He let his forehead rest against Jazz's. "I still miss him."
"Me, too. But you're doin' him proud, Prowler, ya really are. I paid him a visit two days before the dojo got trashed. He mentioned you- I didn't peg the face with the name at the time- he said you had the Spark in you to be the best he's ever seen."
"Mm, he told me I had the Spark within me before he sent me on my optics quest." Prowl let his hands slide up the sides of Jazz's throat to touch his face. "Did you ever hear him laugh, Jazz?"
"Yeah, when I tried the mercury sauce. He did that to everybody." Jazz kissed Prowl's thumb. "Wish you could've seen his face when he laughed. He always squeezed his optics shut and held his chest like he was holdin' his Spark in. Best laugh on Cybertron."
"What about mine?" Prowl feigned offense.
"Ah, Prowl, your laugh is sexy."
"Figures."
"Yeah." The tension was back in Jazz's voice. He tried valiantly to cover it up. "You're stylin' in that armor. Stand up and gimme a spin."
Normally, such an abrupt change in subject made Prowl pause. But right then, he would do anything to make Jazz feel better. He got to his feet, rose onto his toes and twirled once, letting the sun's warmth- and light- dance off the armor's golden edges.
"Beautiful," Jazz whispered, and Prowl understood it wasn't just his appearance that Jazz was complimenting. He lifted Prowl's visor off long enough to kiss the spaces where his eyes should've been. "After the Decepticons are dealt with, I'm gonna look forward to wakin' up to your face every morning. How about a nice place in Simfur?"
"On one condition." Prowl pushed his visor back into place and leaned against Jazz. "I want to have our bond blessed. I don't want the Ancient ways to die. They meant a lot to Master Yoketron, and I want to carry them on for him."
"A full on blessing?" Jazz's voice rose in pitch. "For real?"
"Mmhmm." Prowl smiled. "Then I'll be cool with it."
"Heh, there's hope for you yet, gorgeous." Jazz whispered. The quiver was back in his voice.
Prowl squeezed Jazz's hand, reached out and flipped his visor up off his optics. "Jazz, if you need to cry...I'm right here."
All he needed was permission.
Jazz clutched Prowl tight and cried on his shoulder. No platitudes about everything being all right were going to help, so Prowl said nothing. He offered comfort in the form of silence and his arms.
"We're takin' off tomorrow morning." Jazz said between hitches in his intake cycle. "Wish you were coming with me."
Prowl wished he could join him. "My place is here."
"I know." Jazz managed to chuckle while crying. "I'm putting out enough mech fluid to polish you again."
Prowl snorted and cupped Jazz's cheek in his palm. He clung tight to the single, momentary memory of his face. A gift given by Yoketron from beyond the grave, no doubt. While Jazz's face was probably a wonderful sight, the Spark giving light to his optics was far more beautiful to imagine.
Right then, Prowl decided not to tell Jazz about Lockdown being Yoketron's killer. Not today, at any rate. He had enough on his mind.
Prowl thought briefly of Lockdown. The bounty hunter was probably sitting alone on his ship somewhere, watching the stars pass. What crossed his mind whenever he saw his own reflection? Did he even look, or did he avoid it in shame? Did he mourn Yoketron after taking his life?
Yoketron said Lockdown cried outside the dojo. He nuzzled Jazz's cheek. How strange, I just can't imagine a bot like him crying at all. Not like this.
Jazz began to quiet down. He brushed his lips against Prowl's neck.
"Sorry about that. Don't know why I keep cryin' about it."
"He's family," Prowl said. "Your Spark is a part of his Spark."
"Yeah." Jazz's servos whirred when he shrugged. "Maybe some morning prayer'll clear my head. You done yours yet?"
Prowl shook his head no and reached for two iodine sticks. He handed one to Jazz.
Just before they settled into a meditative pose, Bumblebee's voice practically ripped Prowl's door off its housing.
"Hey, Bulkhead! I got firecrackers! Let's set 'em off!"
"Bumblebee! No! Prowl might still be recharging." Bulkhead's footsteps passed the door. "I think he's got a virus. He was moaning and groaning last night."
"Eh? Moanin' and groanin', Prowl?" Jazz elbowed Prowl's side. "Were you enjoying yourself?"
Prowl folded his arms in a huff. "I'll tell you about it later."
"What?" Bumblebee continued to rave. "Virus? Prowl? Ahahaha! I gotta see this."
"No! C'mon, Bee. Leave him alone." Bulkhead's footsteps came closer, probably blocking Bumblebee from reaching the keypad.
"Well, now you woke me up! I hate this Halloween nonsense!" Ratchet groused. "Where's Optimus?"
Optimus' yawn sounded far off. "Couch."
"Why are you on the- ACK! Wash off that black paint! You look ridiculous!"
"It was Sari's idea. She said I'll look evil. She kept calling me 'Nemesis Prime.' Heh, heh. Um...yeah. I'll need help washing this off."
"Do I look like a free car wash service? Young bots these days. Grr." Ratchet stomped past Prowl's room.
"Ugh." Prowl wiped his hand down his face.
Jazz shook his head, chuckling. "Same thing happens on the ship when Sentinel's havin' a bad morning."
"We should record the noise and compare." Prowl snorted.
"Heh! Hey, before we get busy praying, go lay down on the berth."
"Why?"
"Just do it. I'll get rid of the door listeners."
Prowl wasn't sure what Jazz had planned, but he did as requested. The moment he relaxed, Jazz threw himself against the door, scratched at it and started moaning obnoxiously loud.
"Oh...oh, Prowl! Oh! Yes, more! More! MORE!" Suppressed laughter shook his voice. "Yes, yes! Mm, I'm diggin' it, ooh! Ooh! Ah! Oh-oh! Ahhh."
Jazz fell silent and pressed his audio against the door. Prowl silently calculated the three leaps it would take to scale his tree.
Then Jazz started again. "Oh! Mmh! Mmhmm, more! Oh, yes! Prowl! PROWL!"
"Jazz!" Prowl hollered over Jazz's fake moans. He realized his timing wasn't the best a second too late.
After a two minute wait, Jazz unlocked and opened the door. "Hey, Bumblebee! Got any spare axle grease?"
Prowl rolled over onto his stomach and stretched. He practically felt Bumblebee's optics staring at him. Might as well make the best of this embarrassment.
"Is there a problem, Bumblebee?"
"Um...eheheh...no." Bumblebee took a step back from the door.
"Yeah, what's up? You look like you saw a data ghost." Jazz added.
"Uh...um." Suddenly, Bumblebee bolted. "They're uplinking!"
Jazz shut the door, cackling. He sat on the floor in front of Prowl's Primus statue and patted the spot next to him. "That'll teach 'em."
"You're awful, Jazz." Prowl joined him. "You are completely awful."
"Wouldn't have me any other way." The response had a grin behind it.
Prowl kissed that smile and answered with his own. He could feel the sunlight pouring down on his face. Faith in its brilliance made him tilt his head back and bask in its glow.
Sparks resembled tiny suns. Prowl still recalled seeing his Spark, yet the image of it refused to form in mind. It kept slipping away like a dream forgotten upon waking.
Jazz's hand found Prowl's. Their fingers interlocked. Neither spoke because words weren't necessary.
Prowl's memory of seeing Jazz's face already began to fade. It existed as nothing more than an afterimage, and soon it would be gone. He realized he didn't mind.
I am the color of shadows, but my armor reflects light.
Flint scraped on the ground when Jazz lit his iodine stick.
Jazz is the color of light, but he still casts shadows.
Prowl squeezed Jazz's hand and let go of it to ignite his own stick of iodine.
They bowed to the Primus statue in unison. Jazz prayed fervently for Ultra Magnus. Prowl offered his own well wishes, knowing for certain the being he prayed to heard him. At the same time, the answers he sought form Yoketron began to crystallize.
Together, we are complete, because light and shadow touch in the middle. I don't need to see to know it's happening.
He was surprised when the hatred he felt towards Lockdown became an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. Grunting, irritated, he set his iodine stick in the bowl and made himself pray for the one he called an enemy.
Primus, let me 'look' upon Lockdown the way you looked upon me.
Their prayers concluded with a simultaneous so be it.
Straightening again, Prowl grabbed his new data pad to look up the weather report. He felt Jazz's optics watching him and couldn't resist a smile.