Chapter 36
Finish Off (Epilogue)
I've only memories of happiness
Such pleasures we have shared
I'd do it all again.
This scenery is evergreen
As buds turn into leaves
The colors live and breathe
This scenery is evergreen
Your tears are falling silently…
They stood in the midst of a flood of color, their gazes locked on the sky, their pedestals rotated to face the same shining star that they called home for fifteen long metacycles.
The Garden of Heroes stood as a vibrant tribute to those officers that had ended their long lives in what was later called the greatest calamity since the Ark and her crew disappeared for four million stellar cycles. Pathways lined with alien vegetation, colorful flowers wove throughout the memorial; out of place on the metal world. They guided visitors throughout the park, tangling together into a single lattice that, when viewed from the window of a passing shuttle, formed a rainbow-colored Autobot insignia.
Throughout the business cycle, specially built solar lights welcomed visitors, mech and organic alike, giving the plants much needed simulated sunlight, and light for visitors to see by.
Now though, the lights had long since dimmed down to silver and cast the statues into shades of grey.
'How appropriate,' Bluestreak thought, 'it's almost like their frames had survived the trip into the sun on their funeral barge.'
He stood before the statue that was almost a mirror image of him. A simple piece of jewelry rested on the chestplate, hung from a wire around the statue's neck: filigree with a large sapphire set in the center of a '4'. The bronzed doorwings flared with watchfulness, but, Bluestreak thought, if you knew the attitudes of the model, it could be amusement, and would then match the almost twist that curled the statue's mouth into a smirk.
Prowl...
He never would have imagined that anyone would have the audacity to portray Prowl, of all mechs, as amused. In the ten vorn since the memorial had been erected, Bluestreak had never found the courage to come and visit it. In the time since the mausoleum had been launched, before it met its horrible fate, he couldn't bear to face his friends.
He regarded the statue, half-expecting it to turn to him and tell him he shouldn't be here right now.
Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised at the artist's depiction of the tactician. Only Sunstreaker would have the gall to pose Prowl in such a way. Then to place the second-in-command so close to the wall, despite the architect's protest. News feeds had touched on the struggle between artist and architect, and it had taken the 'Garden Committee' to bring that to a close, surprisingly in the artist's favor. Rumors suggested that a few key members of the Committee had been bought out by an anonymous third party. Someone who had wanted Prowl's likeness close to one of the exterior walls.
Bluestreak had reached the conclusion of that individual's identity alarmingly quickly. The humans used to have a saying about hindsight being 20/20.
He flicked his doorwings irritably, aware that he babbled in his own processor again. He still worked to break the comfortable habit. He liked to think that he'd upgraded beyond needing it.
Metal feet squealed on the other side of the wall, and Bluestreak dampened his energy signature, ducking into the shadow of the bronzed wings.
Metal clanged preternaturally loud in the darkness, voices whispering harshly at each other.
Bluestreak allowed himself a moment of surprise as he realized that he only recognized one of those voices. He braced a hand on the short base of the statue, lowering his doorwings to make himself unnoticeable for as long as possible.
More shuffling and something fell to the ground. Two bodies followed shortly after.
One of the mechs warbled, unexpected considering who Bluestreak was expecting. "Aw, slaggit, there's someone here already. We better fly."
"Like slag I'm leaving." Bluestreak instinctively hunkered down even more at the sheer fury in that voice. The speaker stalked over to Bluestreak's hiding place. "There's only one mech who'd pull a stunt like this at this time and I'm going to rip every circuit from his-"
Bluestreak looked up, not allowing his alarm to play over his face. He met the gaze of the mech that stepped around the statue.
Sideswipe stared down at him, optics wide and face stricken like that time in the med bay so long ago.
Bluestreak knew now what Sideswipe saw when he looked at him, even with his new upgrades.
The red mech regained his composure, dropping his arms to his side. "Blue? Wh-"
Bluestreak interrupted the other mech. "I don't look anything like him now." He tilted his head toward his doorwings, no longer the straight panels of an earthen vehicle, but the wedge of a Cybertronian mode.
"Yes, you do," Sideswipe replied softly, his optics dimming.
Bluestreak frowned at that. "Well, you haven't changed much. Have your hoverplates again, I see, and your armor."
"You know him?" the stranger asked before Sideswipe could answer; green optics sweeping over Bluestreak from head to toe.
"Yeah." He shook himself out of his near trance and turned to the stranger. "Boom, this is one of my former comrade-in-arms, Bluestreak. We were stationed on Earth together. Bluestreak, this is my partner, Boombox." The look Sideswipe gave the other mech (a communication device, Bluestreak realized, so he wouldn't even have an engine.) implied a double meaning to their partnership.
Boombox joined the two mechs, a grin lighting his face. "I don't get to meet many of you Earth Autobots very often." He extended a hand, fingers spread wide.
Bluestreak smiled politely and clasped the mech's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he tersely replied.
Boombox's smile dropped a little and he backed away a step. "You two probably have a lot to catch up on. Why don't I go keep watch? We don't have forever though, Swipe." Boombox eyed Bluestreak a moment before leaning over to place a kiss on the shorter mech's cheek.
Bluestreak had to choke back a derisive snort, or perhaps even a laugh, at the gesture. He didn't think the mech realized how feeble it appeared. It had been a hundred vorn since the war had ended, and longer still since he had last thought of Sideswipe like that.
Boombox moved away, leaping on top of the wall and transforming into a small receiver device.
"Is he your lookout?" Bluestreak wondered softly.
Sideswipe glanced toward his partner. "Yeah, Sunny's at a show, not that he's much help when he does come. Mostly he's just coming to look at his artwork without all the fuss of the visitors."
Bluestreak's wing panels twitched. "What are you doing here?"
"Paying my respects." Sideswipe pursed his lips, still eying Bluestreak suspiciously. "Why are you here?"
Bluestreak straightened. His optics flashed and he lifted his chin. "Any Autobot is allowed to hold a vigil at the Memorial when they're off duty."
"Oh?" Sideswipe pulled an armful of packages from his subspace, carefully setting them on the ground. "Why don't you hold your vigil somewhere else then? I want to be alone."
Bluestreak frowned. "You shouldn't even be here right now."
"I know." He turned his attention toward Prowl's statue, and casually reached up and grabbed hold of the simple amulet, taking hold of the wire with his other hand.
Bluestreak yelped, and grabbed the red arm. "Wait a tic. You can't do that! You don't know who put that-"
"I slagging know who put this here." He grunted and the wire snapped in his hands. He shook off Bluestreak's hands and tossed the amulet away. "Why the slag should I leave it?"
"That's not right! It was left for Prowl-"
Sideswipe whirled on Bluestreak, seething with sudden rage. "What the frag do you know of it? What the frag did you know about Prowl, except that he gave you orders and you followed them to the T and they would usually get you out alive and whole? You were never friends with him; you couldn't be friends with an officer. I know more about him from getting in trouble for the 15 years on Earth than you did from working with him for 200 vorn before I joined the war. I got more right to be here than the entire army combined. If you have a problem with it, then get the frag out of here. Hold your vigil somewhere else."
Bluestreak rocked back on his heels at the vehemence of the former warrior's words. He stared at Sideswipe until the red mech turned from him, his profile unchanged than the last time he'd seen him.. Bluestreak pressed his lips together and took a step toward the ex-Autobot. "We had no idea what was going on, you know."
Sideswipe stopped and turned sharply back to face the grey Autobot. "What the frag are you talking about?"
"Well, I guess that was the point, wasn't it? You quit so suddenly after the war, and took Sunny with you, and then Jazz stepped down from his position and let Sandstorm have his place. When we asked him why, all he did was say that it should have happened vorn ago. Then it came out that Prowl was having an affair with someone from the lower ranks." Bluestreak's doorwings dipped down and he glanced away, though he didn't miss the flash of the other's optics. "It really didn't take a super computer to deduce who that might have been. Well, not for me anyways."
"Jazz dared…" Sideswipe hissed. His mouth pulled into a snarl, and he turned away from Bluestreak, swooping his frame and arm down to pick up one of the packages. His motions jerked and jolted with fury. Usually when he started that someone would end up in the medbay and he would be left to rage in the brig.
"I don't know who started it. Jazz didn't comment on the rumor at all, at least not until they started saying that whoever it was had been the reason Prowl and Jazz were fighting so much. Then he only said that was absolutely wrong. He was the one coming between Prowl and…" Bluestreak censored himself. "He said that he was the one hurting Prowl, and that, because of him, Prowl had died." Bluestreak's doorwings tilted back, remembering his own shock at the words. Remembering the devastation on Jazz's face and the anguished groan of his engine as he'd spoken those words. Remembered the silence that had met that statement and Jazz's hasty retreat before anyone could react.
Sideswipe sneered, baring dental plates clenched together behind his lips. "Fragger was just plying for sympathy."
Bluestreak flashed a surprised optic at Sideswipe. "Jazz was never like that, Sides. He had done a terrible thing," monstrous, really, "and he knew it. If he wanted sympathy he wouldn't have disappeared. I don't remember the last time I'd seen him. No one's heard from him directly. Though he's been spotted around Cybertron. He doesn't talk to us, Sides." Neither do you anymore, Bluestreak added silent.
Sideswipe only glared at the Autobot before turning and pulling the package open. "How the slag did you know where to find me?" He said in an abrupt change of subject. Though Bluestreak had to admit that it was good that Sideswipe wasn't trying to get rid of him anymore.
"What makes you think-"
"I'm not stupid, Blue. Stuff your Vigil. You were obviously waiting for me." Something small and colorful flashed out from beneath the plasticene wrap. The blue optics glanced briefly toward the Autobot Officer, narrowed in thought. "First Aid," he spat with a surety that didn't surprise Bluestreak. "Slagger doesn't know when to mind his own damned business." He pulled a bundle out of the package, handling it with the care one would normally give his brother's paint. He didn't look toward Bluestreak, as he knelt in the foreign soil to plunge his fingers in and leave small holes in the dirt. "So what do you want, then?"
Flowers.
Bluestreak realized that the bundle in Sideswipe's hand was a small bouquet of flowers. They rustled in the displacement of air caused by Sideswipe's movements.
Bluestreak's mouth hung open and he belatedly closed it, watching Sideswipe open a second package and pull out another, larger bouquet. This one actually filled the crook of his elbow. Sideswipe quietly placed the bouquet in the crook of Prowl's arm, resting it against datapads the artist had placed there.
He seemed to forget Bluestreak was there. He only had optics for the statue of a mech who'd been dead for over a hundred vorn. Sideswipe stared into the blank optics of the statue, his hand lingering on the bronze arm.
Bluestreak had the distinct feeling that he was intruding on something private.
He took a step back, the proud sigils on his doorwings sinking with the panels themselves.
He had come here for answers. He had wanted to know the truth. He had wanted his suspicions confirmed, or vehemently denied.
What more answer did he need than the look on the other mech's face? What words did he need to hear that were not spoken clearly in the touch of the black hand on the statue's cheek? How could Sideswipe have phrased it better?
He thought he should be angry. He thought he should be hurt. They may have never spoken of love and devotion to each other, but he thought he should feel more than this emptiness, this pity for the mech before him.
Bluestreak took a few steps forward, and rested his hand on Sideswipe's shoulder.
Sideswipe twitched and jerked around to face Bluestreak.
"It must have been horrible for you; to lose Prowl like that and then never be able to talk with anyone but Sunny and First Aid. You even shut down for a year on Earth after it happened. None of your friends ever knew what was wrong with you. None of us." Never understood why Sideswipe had stared at him, striken, as though he'd seen a sparkghost. Or a dead frame come back to life. "Sunny never seemed very sympathetic. I always thought he would be understanding of anything that happened to you. I thought that he would be more sympathetic about whatever you had been going through at the time. But it was almost like he didn't care."
Sideswipe frowned, as he always did at any criticism of his brother, grabbing Bluestreak's hand.
Rather than let that stop him, Bluestreak continued, "Do you wanna call Boombox over, and then talk about it over some high grade? I think I'd really like to hear about Prowl again. I'd like to hear about the Prowl that I never had the chance to see."
Sideswipe relaxed, dropping his hand to his side. A smile flitted across his face, followed by relief. "Yeah, that'd be great."
So full of joy you are a child of spring
With a beauty that is pure
An innocence endures…
You flow right through me like a medicine
Bringing quiet to my soul
Without you I'm not whole…
The bells have rung, the time has come
I cannot find the words to say my last goodbye
This scenery is evergreen
You've always been so dear to me…
-Evergreen
Hyde
-Fin-
Author's End Thoughts: So, it's done. Finally. Sorry for the delay in posting. I was not happy with the ending as I had it, and between that and the work place, I wasn't ready to let go of this story yet.
When I initially started this fic, and even after writing chapter 4 'Offline', I dithered on whether I would bring Prowl back. Hopeless romantic I am, I felt positively horrible about ripping these two apart. Yet, I did call the story 'Star-crossed', and it seemed inappropriate to do anything else. It helps that I found an outlet for the 'solution' to Prowl's death. (Hint: In my head, Beast Wars/Machines ties very neatly into the Generation One story.) Hopefully, I'll be able to finish the fic that I can use my solution for.
I also will admit that the Jazz storyline leapt out of my hands and scurried around on its own. I had planned for the fic to only be 10 chapters. Literally, I sat down and wrote out the chapter titles and brief descriptionns for 10 chapters. (No, I don't recall them anymore, I lost that sheet of paper.) And then... when I was planning 'Break Off' (where Sideswipe mistakenly accuses Prowl of sleeping around with Jazz and breaks their relationship off for a time only to get back together next chapter), 'Jazz' whispered in my ear 'what if it wasn't a mistake?' It doesn't help that at that time I had been pondering spec ops among the Autobots: Vandals, thieves, and voyeurs (which is what they can be boiled down to). So, there came the entirety of the 'Break Off' and 'Jazz' Arcs. I assure you, that the length of drama was as frustrating for me as it was for the characters and for you, dear readers. I feel like I could go back and fix some/a lot of details, though I am not sure or promising any such thing. I do have other stories that require my attention; too many to even number or name.
I didn't get asked any questions (that I've seen), but I wanted to comment on those things and have for a while. Now though I think my time with this story has come to an end. I hope to see you as I continue one of the other journeys that is in desperate need of continuation.
So many stories, so many words. Not a minute to spare and write them down.
Ja!