A/N: Welcome back old readers of Shadowblade-tara and greetings new readers. I read this story, instantly loved it, and asked to pick it up. Hopefully I meet all your expectations and don't fail to impress.

Fallen Angel

part 1

"Fix him."

"No."

A sigh. "Ratchet, it's a patch job for now. Just don't let him –"

"I said no!"

" – bleed out before we can figure out what to do with him."

Caustic laughter. "How about shoot him in the helm?"

He onlined his optics. The Autobot med bay came into focus – or at least, the ceiling did. He recognized Prime and Ratchet's voices immediately, discussing his future. He couldn't seem to get his processor going – couldn't focus on anything other than the ceiling and the voices. What was going on with him? There were no error messages coming from his systems, but judging from the voices, he was pretty slagged up.

His wings were numb.

The doors hissed open, and two new mechs entered. He tried to turn his head to see who it was, but nothing responded. With an internal sigh, he shuttered his optics. Let the newcomers think he was still out. Maybe he could actually learn something – like why he was paralyzed when he couldn't remember what could have caused it.

"Boss, Megatron's called retreat." Definitely Jazz. "Looks like they ain't comin' back fer him."

No, of course not.

Jazz's voice continued. "So, what're we gonna do with him?" he asked, sounding a bit confused. "Can't jus' let him bleed out, can we?"

"That's exactly what I want to do." Ratchet growled.

"That wouldn't be right." another voice said, and he felt his energon freeze. It couldn't be – why would he be in here now?

Ratchet exploded. "This is Starscream, in case you've forgotten!" he snarled. "The same Decepticon that tried to kill you not three weeks ago? You telling me we should just forget about that and make peace with him?"

Starscream could almost hear Prowl's frown as he spoke. "One: Starscream was not trying to kill me. I told you that already. Two: We are Autobots. Peace is what we are striving for. If that means playing nice with someone on the off-chance that they'll play nice back, I'm willing to take that risk." he said firmly. With every word, his voice got closer.

His wings tried to twitch.

Prowl was leaning over him, but Starscream refused to online his optics. He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, then it was gone. "Ratchet, I'm requesting that you fix him. He's not beyond repair." Prowl said quietly.

Ratchet sighed. "Oh, all right. But if he ups and kills us all – "

"Then you can blame me." came the dry response.

Prowl walked away.

Starscream slept.

/-/

Jazz frowned as he studied Prowl. They were back in the SIC's quarters, Prowl pacing while Jazz sat on the berth. "What's got yer wirin' in a bunch, Prowler?" he asked, finally breaking the silence. "Ain' like Screamer's gonna up an' kill us all or somethin' no matter how much the Hatchet wants him ta."

Prowl hesitated a moment before continuing his pacing. "I know."

"So what's eatin' ya?" Jazz demanded. "C'mon, I'm yer pal, ain't I? Let me help ya."

Prowl sighed but continued to pace. "Did you see his wings?"

"Yeah. Yer point?"

"I doubt he can feel them. Probably a mercy, all things considered." Prowl mused, still basically ignoring Jazz. "They should heal fine on their own, but until then, he's going to be jumpy. No Seeker likes being grounded."

"Oi!" Jazz snapped, drawing Prowl's attention abruptly back to him. "What's this about? It's Screamer we're talkin' about!"

Prowl sighed and sat down on the berth beside Jazz. "No. It's Star."

Jazz's visor flashed. "Star? Yer friend from the Academy Star?"

Prowl nodded. "My only friend at the Academy." he murmured.

Jazz hesitated, then wrapped Prowl in a warm embrace. He didn't say a word to Prowl – he couldn't. Prowl had told him so many stories about his friend Star – good stories; Star had been the kind of friend Jazz had always tried to be to everyone, and to find that someone could attach themselves so easily to Prowl made Jazz like this Star even more. He had always had the impression that Star had died when the Academy had fallen in the beginning of the war.

Well, in a sense, he must have – Starscream was nothing like this mysterious friend of Prowl's.

A small sigh escaped him. Ratchet would fix Starscream, but it was going to be up to Jazz to make sure the slagger didn't try to kill them all.

He wasn't sure Prowl could be trusted to do it.