Riptide:(Noun) A tide opposing another tide, producing violently disturbed water.

Warning: This story is a little darker than what I normally write… not oppressively so, but there is not a whole lot of feel-good in it either.

I had a hard time editing this… computer not saving all the changes when I make them and slag like that. There are a couple of things I know I changed two or three times and it never seems to save. Argh. Finally said to pit with it. So if you see something, let me know and I'll try again.

Note: I got inspiration for some of Lennox's insights into Jazz's death and a couple of Prowl's thoughts regarding staying on earth from the Botosphere's "The Price." If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it.

The planet's star was just starting to set on the western horizon as Prowl rolled to a stop at a gently sloping bluff that overlooked a small metropolis designated as 'Mission City'. After a moment's hesitation, taken to scan for any loitering humans and finding none, the white and black mech transformed.

The stillness that claimed the quickly deepening dusk might have been called almost unnatural by the planet's native inhabitants, even as metal plates split, turned and reshaped themselves. But to the newly arrived mech, it was far from quiet.

Overlaying a virtual cacophony of innumerable insects and other wildlife making their various calls, were the diverse sounds wafting up from the city below. Ratchet had warned him that it would take a couple of orns for his sensors to fully calibrate to the new environment, thus he did not bother troubling himself over the near sensory overload. He simply dampened the input so it was not as distracting.

Blue optics of deep sapphire, almost azure blue snapped open as the metal plates and gears settled into place, transformation complete. They took in visually what sensors had already reported as the mech finished standing.

Cooley, but with an unearthly intensity, Prowl turned his gaze onto the city below the overlook. Even now, the beings calling Mission City their home continued to move about. Even at the distance that separated the silent observer from the busy metropolis, Prowl's audios could pick up the sounds of ongoing construction.

Months after the battle that had decimated the city, its inhabitants were working to rebuild.

Large gaps in the cityscape's skyline attested to the damage that had been inflicted. Scaffolding and heavy machinery littered the area, providing the only means the humans had to achieve their construction goals. Impressive, really, given humanity's small size and comparatively fragile bodies.

Normally Prowl would have allowed himself a moment to be impressed by the species' dedication and resilience in rebuilding. Now, however, he could not get out of his processors that the same battle that had caused the damage that the humans were successfully rebuilding from had also ensured Cybertron – his home – could never be restored.

Though his standard, stoic expression did not change, Prowls denta ground together. The AllSpark was gone. obliterated in that city below where he now stood. In the grand scheme of things, it had come to this. A rather unremarkable sector of an average galaxy on a nondescript planet and a less than impressive city: the very source of life for his people was destroyed.

Cybertronian society had existed for eons longer than this world had even hosted a sentient species, for it to end in such ignominy was…

Prowl shuttered his optics briefly and turned his gaze up to look at the stars that were just starting to dot the darkening sky.

Theirs was a race of star-faring, ancient intelligence. Now they found themselves allied with a young, fragile organic species only beginning its first stumbling forays into orbit around its own planet. A species the majority of which did not know Cybertronians even existed. On a planet that had seen the destruction of the AllSpark.

None of the humans involved in that battle could truly comprehend what the AllSpark had been, yet it had been sacrificed to protect them.

All the hundreds of workers who were even now retiring from their daily labors were completely ignorant of the lives forfeited so that their comparatively insignificant city might remain standing.

One hand clenched into a fist, the other tightened where it rested on his hip joint.

It was not enough that this planet had taken the AllSpark. It had also taken Jazz. The one mech in all of the Autobot ranks who had been able to make him smile, make him chuckle in genuine amusement… The closest friend he had ever had. As illogical and unlikely as it might have been for two 'bots so radically different as they to be so close, they had been. And Jazz had been, quite literally, ripped away from him. Here on Earth.

Jazz had been defending, protecting the very humans who had necessitated the AllSpark's destruction.

Jazz was gone.

The AllSpark was gone.

Megatron… at least he was also gone.

The blasted thing of it was; there had been no choice. Prowl knew that.

As an Autobot, Jazz could not have let those humans die as a result of getting caught in the crossfire of their war. Prowl would have likely made the same choice, as would any number of Autobots. But that did not stop the intense feeling of injustice that clenched his spark.

The war had taken so many sparks to the Well, yet Jazz had always remained. As illogical as it was, Prowl had allowed himself to believe it would always be thus. In reality, considering the type of missions Jazz specialized in, it was an act of Primus it had not happened long before now.

But he was gone. Prowl's battle computer pushed ruthlessly onward, trying to shove aside the undirected anger Prowl was struggling to control

It was a fact. Sadness at a fact was illogical. Anger at a fact was illogical. Refusing to accept a fact was illogical.

Doorwings twitched slightly as Prowl forcibly subdued the logic-driven battle and tactics computer. It might have been easier if Prime had not chosen to remain and protect this planet and its inhabitants.

A part of him wanted to growl his anger, his frustration, that it had been these little fleshy beings who had necessitated this newest, most painful loss. Beings who could not possibly comprehend, let alone appreciate, that cost.

His logic centers, strained at the repeated emotional battering and his battle computer tried to shove both aside as extraneous. He felt a crash of his processors hanging in the periphery of his senses. A part of him wanted to give into the welcoming blankness of such a crash, while another part waved that notion aside as useless.

In the midst of it all, Prowl struggled to balance the three systems. To buffer the raging emotions with logic, to temper the cold logic with emotion, to re-task his battle computer on the new mission while not letting his emotional core sabotage the effort.

Through it all, Prowls expression did not change as he turned his gaze back to the city spread out below him. Anyone observing him, who did not know him, would have been unaware of the battle raging inside.

Slowly, balance was gradually achieved, inner peace regained, though the ache did not completely disappear.

Truly it was not the humans' fault the AllSpark was destroyed on their planet. They had not asked for it to land here. They had not asked to be invaded by an alien race attempting to reclaim that relic. And, from the human perspective their arrival on Earth could not be seen as anything but an invasion. Even among those who had fought beside his comrades and apparently continued their support, they were still very much invaders.

Cybertronians had destroyed their city and killed their people.

The humans had not asked for them to land here, had every right to see them as hostile, and yet welcomed them as equals. As allies even.

That in itself was remarkable.

In helping the Autobots as they had, humanity had made itself the enemy of the Decepticons. That too was a decision they should not have been forced to make.

The AllSpark had been ejected from Cybertron by the Autobots. Therefore, in reality, it was their fault they were in this current situation, not the humans'. Prowl himself had been responsible for drawing up the tactical plans of the campaign that was aimed at getting the AllSpark off Cybertron. That meant it was his fault personally as well. It was not only illogical to continue to blame the humans, it was also wrong.

Systems balanced, deeply programmed Autobots morals and ethical subroutines finished synching with his battle, logic and emotional cores.

As it was their responsibility Earth, and its billions of sentient inhabitants, were now the targets of an enemy they had no hope of defending against on their own, it was now the Autobot's duty to provide that defense.

To be the line against the darkness.

The right to choose was the freedom of every sentient creature. Bu sending the AllSpark into space, even if it was by sheer chance it would end up here, the Autobots – those sworn to defend that right to choose – had taken that right away from humanity.

It was the duty of the strong to protect the weak, regardless of the consequences. That was why Jazz had given his Spark. Because it was the right, the only choice he could have made and still call himself an Autobot.

It was right that they remain here, on Earth.

That humanity would, in return, offer them the hand of friendship and a home was… extraordinary. Truly an undeserved kindness.

"You look deep in thought, old friend."

Prowl's doorwings twitched again, though he did not lift his optics from the city below them, surprised he had missed all signs of the Prime's approach. Of course, he had dampened his sensory input.

He lifted the dampening filters, his optics narrowing slightly at the renewed onslaught of data. "There is much to take in, Prime." He answered quietly, his voice not betraying the conflict he had just endured.

Stepping up beside him, Optimus smiled slightly, sympathetically. Somehow he was able to detect those things Prowl did not show. It was something the Prime had always been able to do. "Indeed."

Silence reclaimed the bluff for a brief moment, then the Autobot leader spoke again. "When you reacted to the briefing as you did, NEST Command wanted to know why."

Prowl frowned slightly, bud did not speak, waiting for his Prime to continue.

"I explained that Jazz was the closest thing you had to family."

Prowl drew in a short intake of air. He briefly wondered how the organics had taken the news that a race of beings they would see only as mere 'robots' had family. But he did not voice his musings. Prowl simply nodded, accepting the explanation.

Optimus spoke again, it was careful and almost tentative. "There is a … custom if you will, among the humans in this country for such circumstances. A custom they would like to perform."

Looking at his commander finally, Prowl cocked a single optic ridge a couple of centimeters. "You are as aware as I, that I am not the best in such situations. There is only a thirty-two percent probability that I will respond in a manner they will understand.

Optimus smiled slightly. "They are more perceptive to your situation than you may think."

Prowl blinked. His only reaction to the briefing had been a slight stiffening. He had spoken to no one afterward, but instead had only left the hanger to transform and drive away. It was highly unlikely that highly emotional beings like humans would have taken that as anything but insulting and rude.

Truly Prowl was not the best-equipped mech to deal sensitively with an inherently emotional and impulsive species such as the humans.

"I apologize for causing you additional diplomatic hardships, sir." Prowl looked back at Mission City, crossing his arms across his chassis.

"No hardships." Optimus spoke softly. "They are eager to learn, to understand us. And to help us understand them. And they are remarkably good at both."

Prowl did not respond immediately. It was not logical for a people to care so much about aliens who invaded their home. But then, organics tended to be emotionally driven and unpredictable.

"While I do not believe it is necessary, for the sake of furthering relations, I will comply with their customs." Had he been a mech given to open displays of emotion, he would have winced at the cold sounding words. "I do not mean to minimize the importance of local traditions."

Optimus' warm palm rested very briefly on his shoulder. "I know that."

Another few moments of contemplative silence elapsed before Optimus continued. "If you are ready, we are expected at the base. Captain Lennox wanted to speak to you as soon as possible."

Prowl looked at his Prime, calculating the possible causes for this summons. "Have I done something wrong, sir?"

Most likely it was to answer for some breach of social conduct during his reaction to the news of Jazz's death.

Optimus quickly shuttered and unshuttered his optics. "Why do you ask that?"

Prowl thought for a moment. He had assumed that a summons of such a nature by the human leader of NEST indicated a rebuke for some performance flaw, as it usually did among the Autobots. Apparently that was a mistaken hypothesis.

"A misinformed assumption." He explained himself to his leader. "I fear I will make many such mistakes in the future."

"As we all have." Optimus said with a tiny, reminiscent smile. "Our hosts have been kind enough to overlook our lack of understanding."

Prowl thoughtfully considered the city again. "They seem to have an amazing amount of empathy for our kind. An amount that is seldom, if ever, seen for cybernetic species by organics."

"True." Prime confirmed. "But not all of them. There are some who are quick to remind us that we are guests on their world. Here at their sufferance."

"A fair precaution on their part." Prowl murmured softly.

"Indeed." There was a tolerant smile as Optimus stepped forward. "It is useful to be reminded of that fact, else it could be hard to remember that for all intents and purposes, we are as much invaders as the Decepticons are."

Prowl was not surprised Optimus' thoughts were roughly parallel to his own. He was not the Autobots' Second in Command for no reason.

Optimus transformed and Prowl quickly did likewise, following his leader back to base.

… … …

It was late by the time they arrived back on base. As expected, there were few humans about, most having retired for the night. Noting that, prowl highly doubted Captain Lennox would still be waiting for them. Humans appeared to need a fair amount of recharge at more frequent intervals than mechs.

He and Optimus rolled into the main hanger and Prowl automatically scanned the new surroundings and was somewhat surprised to detect the Captain's form. It was well past midnight local time. The human commander should be recharging. Was he truly depriving himself of much needed rest just to talk to him?

Optimus silently rolled to the bay reserved for his use, leaving Prowl to approach the human on his own.

The major was sitting down and, though Prowl was not an expert at reading human body language, it was clear the man was exhausted.

Even so, the captain looked up at his approach and wearily pushed himself to his feet. "Commander Prowl." He greeted with a small – warm? – smile.

Prowl had only had very little one on one contact with any of the humans. In fact, this would only be his second interaction and his first unmonitored directly by another Autobot. It was not that Prowl was nervous. It would be illogical for him to be nervous talking to a creature that posed no real threat to his person.

Concerned, perhaps. He did not wish to do something that would undo or hinder the fragile trust Prime and the advance team had worked to build. The trust that Jazz had given his life to build.

He transformed into bipedal mode, hoping the change would not frighten the human. Organic processors were very fragile and easily overwhelmed. But then, this human had fought in Mission City.

Sure enough, Lennox only watched the transformation process with tired eyes, neither stepping back or appearing unduly stressed. With respect for the Captain's shorter stature, Prowl knelt.

"Captain Lennox…" Prowl paused an astrosecond, his tactical computer running through every way he could continue. Should he comment on the Captain's obvious exhaustion? Perhaps some other pleasantry his research indicated humans were so fond of? Or he could get down to business. Considering the man's physical state of exhaustion, not wasting time on pleasantries so that Lennox could conclude what he wanted to discus and get to his recharge berth seemed to be the most considerate thing to do. "… you wished to speak to me?"

The Captain blinked at him and Prowl had the fleeting thought he might have made the wrong choice and unintentionally insulted the man. Then the human gestured with a flick of a few fingers. "I know you don't know me very well, and I hope this isn't completely out of line, but…"

Prowl watched as Captain Lennox looked to the side and Prowl was suddenly struck with the realization that the human was distinctly uncomfortable with whatever he was about to say. Was he afraid of giving offence?

"If you are worried about offending me, Captain, I would encourage you not to be. It is highly unlikely anything you say will offend me."

The human's eyes widened in surprise, leading Prowl to assume he had guessed incorrectly. Then his head canted to the side inquisitively. "How can you say something like that when you don't know what I'm going to say?"

It took Prowl a moment to process the question. He shuttered his optics. "From the way you framed your initial statement, it is clear your purpose is not to give offence. Therefore it would be illogical for me to take offense at it."

Lennox blinked again, then smiled slightly. "That's logical. I'll keep that in mind." Then the human looked down briefly. "I… I could tell you took news of Jazz's death hard."

Prowl's doorwings twitched, the intensity with which he watched the human military commander suddenly more acute. He waited silently, both unsure what he should say and unsure if he should say anything or if he even could as a new wave of emotion started pounding at his control.

After a moment, the human's eyes clearly cataloging the slight change in Prowl's posture and demeanor, Lennox continued. "I just wanted to say… I'm sorry for your loss."

Prowl stared. Was the human claiming personal responsibility for Jazz's death? Surely not. It had been Megatron, not any of the humans who had killed Jazz. Or was he feeling guilty because it was in protecting him and the other humans that Jazz was killed?

Innately disturbed by the uncertainties, Prowl briefly researched the phrase and its context. Air hissed through his vents as he understood better.

It was a common idiom, used to convey sympathy with another's suffering, especially when the individual felt helpless to do anything to help.

Prowl refocused all his attention on the human soldier again, preparing to deliver the traditional and expected response, which included an expression of appreciation of the other's sentiment. However, he discovered Captain Lennox was looking at him very appraisingly.

His momentary surprise at the intense scrutiny delayed his speaking long enough that Lennox spoke first. "I didn't know Jazz very well." The human shook his head. "Heck, I didn't know him at all and he didn't know us either. But he still gave his life to protect mine and others. He didn't have to."

Lennox looked to the side, taking a deep breath. "He didn't have to, but he didn't even hesitate. He just threw himself into combat against an enemy he clearly didn't stand a very good chance against."

Those steel gray eyes moved back up to meet Prowl's optics and Prowl actually jerked back slightly at the muted intensity behind them. Was it his imaginative subroutines – as neglected as they were – or was there the barest hint of excess moisture in those organic optics?

"We didn't know each other, but he sacrificed his life for mine. I…" The human looked away and Prowl found himself flummoxed at the passion, the pain the tiny creature was radiating. While his emotional core was struggling to deal with his own surprise, amazement and, surprisingly, sympathy and gratitude; his logic processor was ruthlessly trying to figure out why a human would feel so strongly about Jazz's death.

The silence hung for just a moment before Prowl said the only thing he could think of, speaking softly. "Jazz was not the only life lost at Mission City. Your own kind…"

He was cut off when Lennox shook his head. "All life is precious, I know that. It is. But…" Organic eyes roamed the hanger, resting briefly on every Autobot the human could see. "Look, I don't pretend to understand what the AllSpark was to your people. All I know is that… you guys are the last of your kind because it was destroyed. That means…"

Lennox focused on Prowl again. "That means that in the grand scheme of things, Jazz's death was far more significant. And not just for you personally. Definitely not to the families of those involved, but… I'm not blind. There are still Billions of humans and we still have the ability to make more of us. You guys…" He made a helpless gesture.

Prowl could only stare at the little flesh creature. That a human could possibly feel that way about an alien, on behalf of an alien species, almost shorted out his processors.

It was not logical. It did not match the pattern Cybertronians had observed from all other organic species they had encountered. His battle computer protested the lack of synchronizing data.

"You have a great deal of compassion for one not of your own species." His doorwings twitched again. That sounded rather cold and impersonal. After such a passionate monolog, he did not wish to offend.

But Lennox only gave him a snort and a sad smile. "Jazz was a soldier – we were brothers in arms – at least for a short while. Besides, he didn't consider his own life to be more precious than mine. What he did for us… what you are all doing for us… I don't want you to think we aren't grateful."

Those words, the way they were spoken, hit Prowl's Spark. How could the tiny organic hit the mark so accurately?

When the human smiled slightly, Prowl realized his expression revealed his befuddlement. Great, that was not the proper way to respond to such a sentiment. At least the soldier was amused rather than insulted. When no laugh followed the smile, prowl was grateful the man was attempting to be polite about it. It was only when the human gave no indication of having to struggle to hide increasing mirth that Prowl again realized he had misjudged. Again.

Lennox's next words confirmed that. They were honestly… apologetic. "You weren't expecting that, were you?"

Prowl's surprise deepened at being so easily read. By an organic, no less. How was that possible? His battle computer instantly attempted to calculate the possible solutions to the question.

"We… our species… are a lot alike, even though you're mechanical in nature and we're organic." Lennox supplied as if reading his processor – or at least his normally stoic expression – like an un-encrypted datapad. "That's what Optimus Prime said in that message he sent out at least. Once I let myself believe it… I can tell that it's definitely true."

Prowl continued to stare at the human. Even other Cybertronians sometimes had trouble thinking of him as anything but a sparkles drone. But this human not only accepted that he did have emotions and – apparently – could identify them behind his neutral facade.

Jazz would have liked this planet, Prowl realized of a sudden. He would have enjoyed getting to know its people. It was a shame he had not been granted the opportunity to do so. The thought sprung unbidden to his processor. His logic centers swept it away as superfluous. This time, Prowl did not fight it.

Thinking of Jazz, however, made him think of Mission City and all the devastation and lives lost. Human lives. How could even one human overlook that suffering and destruction?

He voiced the question, which caused Lennox to jerk back slightly in surprise.

After a moment of contemplative silence, the man asked. "You mean, how can any of us forgive you guys for what happened?"

Forgive. Yes. That was the word. Prowl nodded.

"Three reasons." Lennox said matter-of-factly. "One, I know there's a difference between you guys and the Decepticons; doesn't take a genius to pick that one up. Two, most of what happened in Mission City was collateral damage and that…" The man's voice caught briefly before he continued. "That was my fault because it was my plan to go there. And finally…"

Prowl found himself staring into those deep organic eyes, confronted by the surprisingly strong character behind them. "I think you can extrapolate the final reason."

Prowl just stared, not truly understanding what the human was hinting at. "I can?"

Not the most intelligent sounding response. But Lennox did not dwell on that inane answer. He only nodded. "You forgave us the destruction of the AllSpark."

Prowl stared, struck mute by that one statement. His gaze unfocused as he worked to process what the human meant. It was a human who destroyed the AllSpark, yes. But it was the Decepticons who had necessitated that action. Would the human…

Prowl looked back up, meeting unwavering, dead-serious eyes with his own blue optics. The human knew. Somehow he understood.

The AllSpark had been destroyed to protect Earth. To protect him, his family, his people.

More than that, Lennox somehow understood the maelstrom that had been, and to some degree was still raging inside Prowl's processor. Clearly sensing that realization, Lennox smiled slightly. He nodded solemnly, confirming it for the tactician.

"Good night, Commander." Lennox nodded again before turning to duck out of the hanger through a human-sized door.

Prowl could only look at the now empty place the human had formerly occupied, his logic centers trying to figure out how an organic could reason in such a manner; could understand mechanical beings so clearly.

One possibility presented itself.

He pinged Optimus, knowing his leader was not in recharge and had, most likely, been monitoring the entire conversation. /How much did you tell him… about our people, about my conflicts with processing emotions?/

/Only the most basic information about the AllSpark's function./ Optimus responded. /I did inform him that your advanced tactical and logic computers make it difficult to express emotions and that Jazz was the closest thing you had to family./

/That is all?/

A gentle chuckle rolled across the comm. line. /Yes, old friend. That is all./

/Then how…?/

Another rumble of soft amusement. /Human nature? Human intuition? Human instinct? Take your pick. There is more to them than meets the optic./

Clearly, Prowl thought, straightening to his full height before walking to the bay he had been assigned to recharge in. He grunted.

/Surely Lennox is an exception then./ It was almost, almost sarcastic.

/Captain Lennox is a fine example of the majority of humans we deal with on a daily basis./ Optimus countered.

Prowl froze, just before beginning to collapse into his alt-mode, to look over to where his Prime still rested as a Peterbuilt. /A majority?/

The Prime did not answer, well aware Prowl had heard correctly the first time. The ex-enforcer looked back to where Lennox had been waiting for him, air hissing through his vents.

Staying on earth was the right thing to do. Earth was not his home-world. That was no longer an option for any Cybertronian. But humanity deserved a chance, an opportunity to build their own future.

It was their duty to give them that chance. And, regardless of how his logic systems protested the idea, Prowl knew it was also an honor.

It might not be their planet of origin. But for now, Earth was their home.

It was enough.

This was something of a character study: my take on writing Prowl and the unique challenges he presents and also faces as an individual. I know it only scratched the surface. I know there are many other interpretations of Prowl out there, and I have enjoyed reading a lot of them.

I have chosen an interpretation where Prowl has the exact same emotions that any mech might have but he strives for control and balance partly because his logic and battle systems brutally enforce it, but also because he prefers the quiet waters of balance to the fierce and unpredictable storm of volatile emotions. I believe that blends well with his dedication to martial arts, though I did not portray that here.

On a whole, that internal conflict and the character they produce has made Prowl a very fascinating individual to portray. I know I addressed only the logic/emotion aspect of his character in this little fic. There is much more to Prowl. I may or may not expand this character study. If I do, my plan would be to graft each new facet onto the character developed in the previous chapters until the last chapter is fully fleshed out. It wound seem to be an interesting and challenging writing exercise. Some of that will depend on what feedback I get. (ie: if you liked it and want more, better let me know.)

Please let me know what you thought of this interpretation. I will likely be including Prowl in more of my stories… wherever I can. He is officially my favorite 'Bot!