Getting used to Earth grew less and less difficult with each week he was on-line. Prowl found that despite the humans' sometimes illogical behavior, their disregard for certain rules and regulations, they weren't so different from his past friends, his team, his people. Well, they were different, but not badly so.

He spent a long time watching the military unit, studying their tactics and strategies. He was a good observer, so he did that: observe. When Captain Epps finally approached him with the question if he wanted to just gawk or join in, he had taken the offer gladly. New tactics were developed and Prowl found he adapted some of his techniques to the humans', and vice versa. He was pleased to note how fast they learned and how quickly they incorporated new things.

That humans were fundamentally different was another matter. They were organic, didn't live the same span as his own kind, were smaller, had a completely different culture… it was driving Prowl crazy now and then.

But he adjusted.

He had to.

Prime had given him small tasks in the beginning and by and by it grew more. Ratchet still checked him weekly, commended him on his energon levels, but always told him not to disregard them now. He might be back and feel great, but that didn't mean he was one hundred percent.

Prowl knew he wasn't. Chunks were missing.

Jazz was the same pain as he always had been, but the easy, laid-back mech helped him immensely. He pulled him out of his wandering mind, he pushed him to new limits, he roused his temper. It all worked.

Barricade was a shadow he couldn't catch. He seemed to move in and out of the base unseen and whenever Prowl thought he had him, there was nothing. It was a game of cat and mouse, though the mouse was vicious and sneaky and devious-minded. Jazz just grinned at him.

Contact with Sideswipe had been withheld until Ratchet had given Prowl the all-clear, that he had healed. As much as he could heal anyway. The memory chunks that were missing were gone permanently. No repair could bring them back. He had to live with that and he would. The alternative was not really a viable one.

Optimus Prime had allowed Sideswipe to return to the base, but only under guard from Ironhide and Arcee. He wouldn't take a single step without supervision and he was almost docile. Prowl watched his arrival from a corner of the main hangar, curious to see his old team mate again, but the knowledge that he had no information about his twin was sitting heavily on him.

But he wanted this. He had asked to be the one to tell Sideswipe. He had been the team leader. He had been responsible.

Sideswipe was led to the room that had been chosen for the two Autobots to meet. Alone. Prowl wanted to be alone with the other and no one was to listen in. This was a very private and personal moment.

Optimus Prime had understood and while Ironhide had grumbled, he had relented.

Following the three mechs, Prowl reached the chosen room just as the door closed after Sideswipe. He nodded at Arcee and Ironhide, then hesitated one last second. Finally he steeled his nerves and walked inside.

Blue optics, alive with hope and filled with dread at the same time, fixed on Prowl's own.

"Prowl," Sideswipe stuttered.

Prowl read even more in the twin's stance. Pain, loss, hope, terror, need…

"Hello, Sideswipe," he said softly.

The silver mech fidgeted.

"I know what happened," the strategist added, anticipating that question already. "And I'm not angry. I understand your reasons."

"I never wanted to cause harm," Sideswipe said in a small voice.

"You wanted to know."

A nod.

Prowl gazed at the younger mech, remembering him and his twin. Those two could be a pain in the aft. They could go on your nerves, wreck your processor, and they drove you over the edge. Their pranks had been every commander's horror, but in the battle field they were professionals. Warriors of a high caliber, fast, furious, a force to be reckoned with. Prowl couldn't see one without the other.

Now there was only one and he would have had the clue to Sunstreaker's fate, but he didn't know. He no longer knew.

"I can't remember, Sideswipe."

The optics widened, blue light flaring in disbelief and horror. For a moment the face was young, young and innocent and so shocked. Hope bled out of every line and turned into something far more vicious.

"The damage I took was too great. My memory circuits were partially erased. What I can remember is our assignment, you and Sunstreaker… But that's where it ends. I'm sorry."

Sideswipe made a frightened little noise. He shook his head, whole body trembling.

"No…" he protested. "No, no, no…."

"I wish I could remember what happened to Sunstreaker. I can't. I tried and Ratchet checked my processor. There is nothing. I went as far as having Sam scan me. Nothing at all."

"Cybertron, no… You were with him, Prowl! When we were separated his last communication was that he was with you!"

"Sideswipe… I'm very, very sorry."

There was a moment of utter stillness, then the silver mech fell to his knees, emitting a soft, keening noise of mourning. Prowl was torn, unable to give in to either motion: go to Sideswipe or leave the grieving mech alone. When haunted optics looked up, filled with despair, he finally walked over to his former team member, placing a heavy hand on one shoulder. Prowl went down on his knees, meeting the flickering optics of the suffering mech.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Sideswipe dimmed his optics. "He's alive," he managed. "He has to be."

Prowl didn't want to argue. He had survived. Sideswipe had survived. It was entirely possible; just like death was possible. Maybe Sideswipe's twinned spark could feel his brother's continued existence. What if Sunstreaker was out there? What if he had managed to escape and gone into the same deep stasis as Prowl? What if he was lost in the vastness of space? What if the enemy had him, keeping him alive just for the sports of it? What if the one they might one day find was nothing but a shell of the Sunstreaker he remembered?

He said nothing of his thoughts. Sideswipe must have had them, too. From inside his sleek, silver form came low moans. A mind haunted by his brother's unknown fate. Prowl wished he could have given Sideswipe peace, one way or the other, but it wasn't to be.

Prowl just waited, feeling the other mech calm down. Sideswipe sat back, heaving a rattling sigh. The two mechs regarded each other, unspoken words passing between them. Both damaged, both having lost something very close and personal. In Prowl's case it was forever. Sideswipe had hope.

It fused them together in a way. That and their past relationship as team mates and friends. Prowl rested his forehead against Sideswipe's.

"You're not alone, Sides," he said softly.

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Sam had kept a technopathic eye on their newest addition and he was happy to note that Prowl was getting better. His self-confidence grew and with it the unrest. He needed something to do, to be useful, and his mind was regaining its orderly, logical thinking.

So disorderly, illogic, irrational and quite frankly human behavior confused him sometimes. Sam watched it with a smile and the knowledge that it got better every day, too.

Ratchet had told him to take it easy.

He did. Sam didn't plan on permanent headaches. Neither did Bumblebee.

What worried Sam was Sideswipe. The silver mech had been strangely silent and withdrawn ever since his private conversation with Prowl. Sam felt waves of darker emotions coming from him and sometimes it hurt. He was torn between ignoring it all because it was a private matter, and simply going to Sideswipe and see if he could help.

He didn't have the connection to the mech as he had to others. He had been a new addition, like Hot Rod or Arcee, but also someone who kept to himself. Sometimes his more boisterous nature broke though and Bumblebee had told his partner a few things about Sideswipe. The Sideswipe of before.

Sam sighed softly.

::You can't help everyone, Sam::

::I know, Bee.::

Sam ran a hand over the smooth yellow fender of the Camaro parked next to him. ::I just feel like I'm the only one who notices::

::You're not. Prowl knows what this did to Sideswipe and they were on the same team. They both lost and both need to work through it.::

::And I wouldn't be helping::

::Prowl trusted you for this one task. Leave them to heal on their own now::

Sam nodded to himself.

Two weeks later Sideswipe left for the east coast again. He would meet up with Maxx Racing once more and stay with the racing team. Prime hadn't objected.

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Meeting the best-kept secret of the Autobots and their allies had been something high on Prowl's list, but he had yet to get a chance to introduce himself to Will Lennox. Of course the human knew him; Ratchet had told Prowl of Lennox's assistance in repairing his protoform. Still, no formal introduction had been made.

"He's well-protected," he remarked toward Prime.

"For a reason."

"The files claim he isn't the Allspark."

"And he isn't," the Autobot leader confirmed. "But others might think so. Soundwave tried to take him and it was a close call. It was also a warning we heed. We still don't know much about him, aside from what each evolutionary step shows us. No one can foretell what will happen in the future."

"Because you can't scan him."

Prime nodded. "That and other reasons. Will is always evolving, with or without outside influence. We protect him. We help him."

Prowl let his optics sweep over the main floor. He stood proud and tall, sure of his place among these allied troops. Prime had yet to assign him anything specific, but just being here was reassurance enough. Prowl had spent time reviewing strategies, had checked on Ironhide's security network and been soundly impressed, and he had learned about the humans' military that was assigned to the base.

There was a lack of coordination and he had brought it up already, especially now that the Ark was in her finishing stages. More plans had been made to position early warning stations throughout this solar system and Prowl itched to put in his ideas. What he needed was the last bit of information, about Will Lennox, his capabilities, the dangers, his powers.

Optimus looked at him, a knowing expression in his optics, then invited him to follow.

"You'll never know everything about him," the taller mech said as they walked.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

Prowl considered the question. "We never understood the Allspark."

"He isn't the Allspark, Prowl."

He nodded. "But he seems to harbor some of its power. I don't believe the Allspark can ever be destroyed, Prime. Its energy was dispersed and some found its way into new shapes."

Blue optics regarded him steadily. "Neither of the ones touched by the Allspark have its power, alone or combined."

"They preserve something eternal, Prime."

Optimus was silent, never breaking his stride. "I believe so, too, Prowl," he murmured after a moment. "I believe so, too."

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Knowing what he would see, reading about the accident that had changed a normal human into a kind of hybrid, was one thing. Looking at the 6'4" tall organic was something completely different.

Prowl's optics were fixed on the string of runes moving over the soft skin, the ancient glyphs of cosmic code, and his mind flashed back to the one time he had stood in the presence of the Allspark. It had been awe-inspiring, humbling, showing him infinity and power beyond his wildest imaginations.

The Allspark was gone, but this human had somehow merged with a shard of it and had become… something else.

He had actually taken a step back in rising fear as the old code showed more and more.

Will Lennox appeared like a normal male of his kind, with the addition of the glyphs, but there was something about his energy field. It was strong, dense… condensed. It was ancient. His sensors picked it up, compared it to the sensation of the Allspark, and came up negative. Lennox carried himself with an air of command, his military heritage, and he wasn't afraid to face mechs several times his size.

"Prowl?" Optimus Prime said softly.

He blinked, stunned optics falling on his leader.

"I… don't know," he stammered.

His reaction was extreme, he knew it, and he blamed his still recovering spark for it. But there was fear, coupled with respect, and the fear disturbed him.

This was the one to be protected, the one Soundwave had been after because he had believed and maybe still did that the hybrid could revive dead shells. Ratchet had firmly told him that there was no indication Will could.

As an Autobot Prowl respected all sentient life, would protect the humans -- on their team, allied to them, or innocents. But two were special. Will Lennox and Sam Witwicky.

Ironhide made an impatient noise, coupled with a warning. "You gonna freak, get it over with."
Prowl pulled himself together and inclined his head. "I apologize, Will," he said formally.

It got him a careless shrug. "You're not the first. It apparently gets to everyone."

And to you, Prowl thought.

It was in the file. A file so well-protected no one had any outside access to it, which was why Soundwave hadn't been able to gather the intel he had needed to pull off the kidnapping.

"You'll get used to it," the human added.

Prowl was certain that something was connecting Lennox to Ironhide, especially after he had seen the weapons expert's name etched into the human's wrist. Like a permanent tattoo, a bracelet, where all the other runes moved. Since Ironhide was the last mech to talk openly about anything personal and since relationships between humans, well, Allspark-changed humans, and his kind were apparently extraordinary, Prowl let the matter rest.

"You're staring again," Jazz stage-whispered, elbowing him hard.

Prowl shot him a dark look.

Lennox smiled. "That's usually the, very long, first reaction. The second is something I want to prevent. I'm not the Allspark, Prowl."

"I've been told. I know," he answered stiffly.

"Good. Whatever you think, it's not even close. I'm not a circus act either, so if you want to know more, ask Jazz or Ratchet. Or Optimus. No demonstrations unless you volunteer for a training exercise."

Prowl nodded, accepting the words. He wouldn't pin any kind of label on this human. "The reason I wanted to meet you, Will, was to thank you. You helped save my spark."

Lennox shook his head. "No. Ratchet did. You did it yourself because you didn't give up. I merely welded some tubes together."

"You still have my gratitude."

The hybrid shrugged once more, smiling as he met the serious optics. "If you think so. You're welcome."

Prowl gazed into eyes that had seen so much more than he probably ever would, counting millennia of civil war. Will Lennox had no official rank among the human military. He had no rank concerning the allied forces. He had no rank among the Autobots. But his presence was commanding. His own kind listened to him; he was called to advise, even to command a mission. Prime respected him deeply, as did the others. Not because of his forced hybrid status; not because of the glyphs. Because he had proven himself.

"I'm looking forward to getting to know you, Will Lennox," he said softly.

"Likewise, Prowl."

The smile was open and real. Prowl answered it with a cautious one of his own.

He still couldn't shake the deep-set awe, the respect, the slight fear. This was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg and there would be more. Prowl was sure of it.

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Tom Banachek looked at the black and white mech that had arrived with the latest transport flight from Nellis to the Arctic base, noting the clear line between black body and white armor. He had been kept up to date in the weeks it had taken Ratchet to bring the dying protoform back among the living, and he had been pleasantly surprised to hear that one, Prowl had survived and two, he was one of the higher officers.

He looked proud, standing tall and almost to attention, a clear contrast to the mechs Banachek had met before. Here was a military officer, one who took his duties very seriously.

Prime had suggested that Prowl, as their tactician and military strategist, work with Banachek at Project. Project handled all kinds of liaisons, was the core unit of the human military that would both prepare the world for the day the mechs would be known and also obscure their presence until then. Prowl had expressed his interest and who was Banachek to refuse?

"Welcome to Project, Prowl," he greeted the newcomer. "I'm looking forward to our cooperation."

People walked around him and only Banachek's aid had been present for the introductions, then the woman had been called away.

"As am I, Mr. Banachek," Prowl replied, sounding formal and just a little bit stiff. "I've reviewed your organization, the way it handles Autobot matters, the reconstruction of the Ark, and the insertion of Cybertronian technology into the human world. I believe I can offer some new ideas and assessments."

Banachek smiled. He had been given a quick run-down on what to expect from Prowl by Jazz. The first lieutenant had made it quite clear that Prowl was, for all his laid-back manner, his patience and his adherence to logic, rather uptight and socially inept when facing others. He would thaw after a while, but one had to suffer through this first.

"I'm all ears," Banachek only replied.

And he was, among other things. Like the interest he felt rising at what Prowl's permanent status at the Arctic base would change for them all. Banachek was also looking forward to the meeting between Prowl and Tony Stark, who had a meeting scheduled over the development of the Stark Industries satellites to help surround Earth with a defensive network. Banachek didn't know if Stark would drive Prowl insane first, or if the mech could keep an upper hand against the industrialist billionaire.

Yes, it would be fun. And matters at the base would be far from quiet in the future.

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The End for this fic.