Thanks to everybody who read, followed and fovourited this story. A special thanks to those who reviewed, Ninecrow, SunnySidesofBlue, iNsAnE nO bAkA and Demonsurfer - your reviews are loved and appreciated! :) Also a HUGE thanks to my beta readers - Dragondancer5150 and IAmStarscream. Appreciate you guys sooo much!
Disclaimer: I don't own them at all.
"You're releasin' him from medbay?"
Ratchet nodded briskly as he marched through the almost empty ICU towards Prowl's berth, Jazz trailing at his heals. A young, unknown medic was disconnecting the monitoring machines from Prowl and was preparing to bring him out of stasis. "Yes, the scans came out clean and his systems hasn't spiked once for the past five cycles. Everything else is within normal functioning capacity. There is no reason to keep him here."
"I remember ya saying something similar last time," Jazz intoned, "and if I remember correctly Prowl ended up back here nearly worse off than before."
Ratchet stopped and glared at Jazz. "I am well aware of what happened last time, thank-you, and I've made provision for that. I'm equipping him with a bracelet that will continue monitoring his systems. The moment anything abnormal happens I will be notified immediately."
"Thought you said there was something funny going on in his systems? Now yer releasing him without having discovered anything." Jazz said as he looked at Prowl, then at the young medic working swiftly. The young medic glanced at Jazz as he felt his gaze, quickly ducking his head and turning towards the monitors. Jazz turned his attention back to Ratchet.
Ratchet was eyeing him with raised optic ridges. "Jazz, let me make this perfectly clear. Prowl's welfare is my first concern. I would not release him from medbay if the scans showed even the slightest deviation, but they're all normal. Even the scans running for anomalies within his systems came out clear. However I am not dismissing the notion. I will be monitoring Prowl, and so will you." He said slowly as one might to a stubborn youngling not quite grasping the essence of the message.
"You want me to what Prowl?" Jazz asked incredulously.
Ratchet sighed. The little patience he had was quickly evaporating. "Frag it Jazz. Watch him! I'm not in Prowl's company during the orn, thank Primus for that, but you are. If you notice him acting strange or anything outside of the usual, emotionless pain in the aft he is, you will alert me. Got it?"
Jazz nodded as he turned to Prowl. He was disconnected from the machines now. The young white and orange medic was fidgeting around the berth looking ready to bolt in a moment's notice as he wearily eyed Ratchet. Jazz smirked.Ratchet wasn't renowned for his gentle manner with patients or medics under him. It would be a wonder if he ever found a medic that survived under him.
"Jumpstart, is everything ready?" Ratchet asked the medic. Jumpstart nodded as he moved towards Prowl's head, ready to bring him out of his medically induced stasis. He waited for Ratchet's signal. "Come on then we don't have all fragging cycle." Ratchet spat as the medic jumped. He initiated the programs that would bring Prowl back to the world of the functioning.
Prowl's hands began twitching slightly as his systems rebooted. His optics were the last to come on-line. Prowl stared at the roof of dimly lit room. In the medbay. Again. Did he have another crash? Was he injured in the battle?
Ratchet loomed over him. "You up yet ya fraggin' Pit spawn?"
Prowl cocked an optic ridge at him. "In a moment, yes." Prowl shuttered his optics briefly before forcing himself up. He ran a system diagnostic while he gained his coherency of the room. "Why am I in the medbay, or rather the ICU?"
Three pairs of optics turned on him. Jazz shook his head frowning. "Ya don't remember?"
Prowl arched his ridges at Jazz. "I am aware of the battle and that we were ordered to retreat. Beyond that I have no recollection."
"Uh-huh," a deep scowl settled over Ratchet's features. "Nothing even about your injuries? Try rebooting and accessing your most recent memory files." Ratchet suggested. They waited a moment while Prowl accessed his memory banks. Ratchet cast Jazz a weary glance as he folded his arms across his broad chest.
"My most recent memories are of the battle at the Neutral settlement and the order to retreat through Delta sector. After that my memory banks are blank." Prowl informed them.
Jazz opened his mouth to say something, but Ratchet stopped him with a small shake of his head. "Prowl, you have been in the ICU for three orns. You were wounded during the battle and evacuated. I have repaired most of the damage to your frame, but I need you to run diagnostics daily and send me the results. I'm also giving you a bracelet which you will wear. The bracelet will enable me to monitor your vitals. If you feel anything different or foreign in your systems you are to report to me immediately. You are also on medical leave until I deem you fit to return to active duty. Understood?"
Prowl glared at Ratchet, his expression remaining impassive except for his seething optics. At last he relinquished. He gave a curt nod before swinging his peds to the floor. Jazz walked towards him to assist, but Prowl shook his head and stood. "Very well Ratchet, but I hope you will not detain me from my duties for an unreasonable time span as I need to file a report on the battle and no doubt have other important matters to attend to."
"At least he sounds fine." Jazz murmured under his breath as he turned away from Prowl.
Ratchet smirked at Prowl without breaking optic contact. "Jazz, escort Prowl to his quarters. Now." He turned on his heels and marched out of the ICU.
o0o0o0o0o0
Prowl sat comfortably in his quiet quarters reading a datapad. Even though Ratchet had cleared him for light duty, he was to remain at his quarters unless refuelling or going to the medbay for a check-up. He had been confined to his quarters when Ratchet had caught him in his office, finishing the report on the battle at the Neutral camp. The medic ensured through a very verbal manner that he was less than impressed, and hence the confinement. The bracelet Ratchet had given him to keep track of his vitals still sat uncomfortably on his wrist.
A small frown tugged at his brows as he scanned the contents of the medical report, but his reverie was soon interrupted when his door whooshed open.
Prowl sighed as he placed the datapad on his desk as Jazz come swinging into his quarters holding two cubes of energon, a Cheshire grin plastered on his faceplate looking for all the world as if he owned the place. Since his release from medbay, Jazz made a habit of bringing him energon and 'checking-up' on him at least once an orn. It had become a routine, yet Prowl had to admit to himself that he liked the routine. Jazz was one of the few, if not the only bot, he allowed himself to relax with.
"Heya Prowler. How ya feelin' today?" Jazz purred as he flippantly shoved the datapads to the side and perched himself on Prowl's desk. He handed Prowl his cube, sipping his own as he regarded the tactician critically, ensuring himself that Prowl looked pretty good, he seemed healthy too.
"You ask that question every time you enter my quarters and every time my answer remains the same. I am fully functional. Why Ratchet still will not allow me to return to full active duty is illogical and a waste of resources." He leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders gears clicked into place.
"Aw Prowler, he just cares." Jazz drawled mockingly placing a hand over his spark. He looked at the datapads and frowned. "Yer working anyway aren't ya. Well, at least yer in yer room. Reports?" Jazz asked nodding towards the discarded datapad. Prowl looked towards the datapad and inclined his head, gracing Jazz with a rare, barely-there smile, accenting the handsome faceplate.
"Thought Smokescreen was watching yer back while you recovered? Or rather yer work. Think he'd gamble yer back away." Jazz grinned. Smokescreen had been assigned most of Prowl's work during his absence, constantly complaining about the amount of work he had to complete as well as the high standard of work Prowl requested. What really upset the gambling tactician was that he didn't have nearly as much time to complete his favourite past time – gambling.
"He is, but I would rather see to them myself. I have already encountered a number of grammatical errors. I would have to talk to him about that. If he is to take full responsibility for my work in my absence, then I would at least expect him to do it properly and to the correct standard."
Jazz gave a small chuckle at the thought of Smokescreen taking on Prowl's full responsibility and upping the standard even more. Companionable silence settled over them as they continued drinking their energon, each settling into their own thoughts.
Jazz cocked his head slightly and contemplated the silent tactician. Prowl sat thoughtfully sipping his energon, a small, barely visible frown settled once again across his rigid brow as he stared through Jazz.
"Thinking pretty hard there Prowl." Jazz stated softly after a few more moments of thoughtful silence, waiting for Prowl to rejoin him in the present time.
Prowl turned his head towards him and raised his optic ridges. "Hmm? My apologies Jazz, I was simply pondering the events of the battle at the Neutral settlement." He raised his energon cube indicating the datapad. "It's Ratchet's report."
"Uh" Jazz responded leaning back. They hadn't spoken about the incident on the field or what had happened after that. Jazz wasn't sure he wanted to. The whole incident didn't make sense. Prowl still didn't remember a thing, nothing had shown on the medical scans, and Jazz couldn't squish the feeling at the back of his processor that they were missing something in plain sight. It frustrated him beyond reasoning that he couldn't lay his finger on it. What frustrated him more was that he didn't know if Prowl was still in danger or not. The very thought that Prowl might still be in danger had been stealing his recharge from him night after night.
"I have read your report," Prowl said after it became clear Jazz wasn't planning on elaborating, "but since you are here, please refresh my memory."
"Refresh your memory?" Jazz asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. They both knew the orn Prowl forgot a report would be the orn Cybertron exploded. Jazz folded his arm over his chest, grabbing his chin in the other and pretended to think over the matter as if it took him an immense effort to remember. "Well, let me see," he said tapping a finger against his chin, "we were there, fighting bad-aft Decepticons, rescuing Neutrals from bad-aft Decepticons, salvaging what was left after bad-aft Decepticons left. Oh and did I forget to mention hauling our SIC's aft back to base in a less than reputable state?" he ended with a large grin splitting his faceplate, pointing a finger at Prowl.
Ah, there it was again, that gorgeous little smile Prowl charmed him with. "That much I know," that same handsome little smile vanished as the tactician drew air into his vents before letting it go "however, would you mind telling me your unofficial thoughts on exactly why that specific Neutral camp was attacked, and perhaps, more specifically why I was also left alive and uncaptured when the Decepticons had me at their mercy?" Prowl had been worried about his apparent loss of data. The information was just missing, even though there was not viable reason for it. Ratchet's report had stated the loss of data as 'possible corrupted data due to trauma', but he was concerned that he might have been compromised on the battle field. The possibility hung over him like a dark, storm cloud. He had to know every little detail.
Jazz rubbed a hand over his face, looking anywhere else rather than the tactician who sat determinedly staring at him. He knew that tone, that look. Prowl wasn't going to give until he gave a satisfactory answer. After a moment Jazz gave up and flashed a brilliant smile at the tactician that somehow evolved into a pathetic grimace.
"Nothing special about the camp 'cept for the fact that it was closer to Iacon than usual. Truth is Prowler, Ah don't know. Ah've been askin' myself the same question and just don't get an answer I like. Don't get me wrong ya nearly kicked the bucket twice, an' Ah'm..Ah'm real glad you didn't. But it was an opportunity the Decepticon's missed. And it's been…bothering with me." Jazz ended with a shrug. Prowl nodded. It had been bothering him too.
"Your report, as well as Ratchet's report stated that the Decepticons disengaged in battle shortly after the order for us to retreat. I find this behaviour strange."
"Ah know. Ah'll be honest with ya Prowl there's a couple of things been bothering me too."
Prowl stared at him, the same unblinking, emotionless stare that made it nearly impossible to read him. "Elaborate, please."
Jazz hopped off the desk and started pacing like a caged animal. The more he thought about the matter, the more the answers eluded him. They seemed to tease and taunt him, flipping away as soon as he thought he could catch them, ducking into shadows and doing a hell of a job at evasion. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't grasp it, get to the bottom of the whole slaggin affair. Slag, he wasn't head of Special Ops for nothing. "Well, for one, after you got evacuated, the battle kinda fizzled down and the Decepticons retreated. Of course they took the energon reserves with them, couldn't stop them on that count. They just took it and made a beeline back to whatever Pit they crawled from, not bothering with us at all. And that's what's botherin' me. Ah mean it was the command team fightin' for frag's sake. They had us pinned down. Ah don't get why they didn't push the attack when they obviously had the upper servo."
He fell silent as he held his back towards Prowl, staring at the blank walls of his quarters. The tactician waited patiently for Jazz to continue. He knew him well enough by this time to know he wasn't finished. Tension radiated like heat waves from Jazz's frame, and he was rarely tense about anything. So Prowl watched and waited.
Jazz swirled around and marched back to the desk, grabbing a chair and sitting down with a resigned sigh. He looked at Prowl, thankful for the visor hiding his emotions playing across his optics. He softened his voice. "Even after they got you, they didn't kill you or capture you. Either they didn't recognize ya or they thought you were dead. But Prowl, it's more than that. You were fine two orns after the attack. Ratch' patched ya up good and you were awake. Ah even escorted you to ya quarters. And then you, you relapsed or something'." Jazz looked away for a moment, recalling the memory of finding Prowl in that state. "Ratchet did tests and all that, but ya came out clean, nothin' appeared compromised. Ratch made sure of that. It's been four orns since ya were released from medbay, and ya systems are workin' fine, but there still ain't no explanation." Jazz ended. He looked at Prowl, trying to gauge the other's expression. But Prowl allowed no emotion to ghost his faceplate.
"I see. Ratchet omitted the test details from the report. I will have to enquire about it. If the only reason he has been keeping me off duty is because he hasn't found any satisfactory reason for my 'relapse', then I will need to speak to him." He stated sternly.
Jazz vented an irritated sigh, Prowl was closing down emotionally again. He leaned across the table and grabbed the tactician's hand. Prowl froze at the contact and looked enquiringly at Jazz, before hiding his emotions behind a stern façade.
"Ya nearly died Prowler, twice. And we don't have an answer for the second time. Ah'm worried about my best friend's well-being." Jazz whispered fiercely, he hesitated a moment, "Ah can lose a lot of things in this life Prowl, but I don't know if I can stand losing ya." He abruptly let go of Prowl's hand, got up, grabbed the empty cubes and left.
Prowl kept staring at the door after Jazz left. He absent-mindedly clenched his hand and brought it to his faceplate, holding it there for a moment. He gave his head a small shake and reached for the datapad.
OoOoOoO
A single console stood at the end of the dark room, throwing an eerie green glow across the room, silhouetting a hunched figure. The figure was talking softly over a secured line.
"Query: mission status?"
"In-progress. Delayed due to unforeseen complications. Subject is restricted to quarters. Need more time."
"Answer: unsatisfactory. Do not delay. You have been warned."
The figure hesitated for a split astrosecond.
"Understood."
The line went dead.
That's it for this chapter. Updates might be a bit slower in the coming from now on as the festive season starts. Also I'm going to be away from my computer for a while, but will try to do at least another chapter or two before the new year circumstances permitting.