Author: gatekat and femme4jack on LJ
Pairing: Jazz/Prowl/Miles Lancaster
Rating: PG-13
Codes: Slash, Xeno (Transformer/Human)
Summary: Jazz and Prowl have a serious fight, plus Jazz fesses up and Miles has to decide what is more important to him.
Notes: Written in the Point of View fanverse (community .livejournal .com/tf_matrix)
"text" translated Cybertronian.
Hunting Pleasure 17: Fallout and Recovery
In a corridor of the officer barracks, Ironhide paused, his attention caught by the extremely unusual sound of Prowl's voice raised in honest anger, and Jazz's snarled response nearly unintelligible because he'd slipped so deep into his accent and lingual patterns so old that even the ancient warrior didn't know them well.
The bulky weapons specialist was not normally one to eavesdrop. He valued his own privacy far too much not to grant others the same. But something in Jazz's tone chilled him to the spark. He could not fathom the mech actually harming his bonded, but he has also never forgotten that Prime's SIC and head of Special Operations was also a former 'Con, one of the deadliest of the time. He respected him, but still did not always fully trust him. After an internal debate that only took a few nanokliks, he opted to stay where he was to make certain the situation didn't deteriorate to a point that intervention was needed.
"I can not believe you programmed him to self-destruct under any conditions," Prowl's rage was evident in both his tone and volume. "You are an Autobot!"
"Du give meh t'at slag," Jazz snapped back. "Gut yar 'motions out'a way 'n ya know 'xac'ly why ah did. Ya woul'ove too 'n wah both 'ow it."
"The fact remains that I did not and you did," Prowl responded. "Your agents know they are getting into a dangerous job even if they don't know what you program into them. Miles did not have even that much forewarning."
Ironhide felt his systems go cold with fury and his cannons whirl as his weapons systems come online. It was all too obvious what the two were arguing about. Jazz had programmed the nanites that claimed the young civilian, Miles, with spec-ops kill protocols. Every senior officer knew that the agents had them, and why ... but to do so to his own socket, who was no older the Samuel!
He almost stormed in, but stopped himself. Prowl was handling the situation. As Jazz's bonded who had also claimed the young human, it was his business to deal with his mate. He cycled his vents, put his weapons system on standby, and waited to hear if he was needed.
"Will ya stop quoting Lv'Prim 'ready?"
"Would you prefer I quote Megatron?" Prowl snarled, something that gathered a moment of silence from his bonded. "Yes, as a tactician I understand and agree with what you did, in all but one way. You had no right to do that without asking. Even if you withheld the full extent of the programming, he had a right to agree to it or not."
"Weh've fought this 'ready. If 'e knew, 'e'd fi 'n ah har'deth," Jazz sounded more frustrated than angry now.
Even in the corridor, Ironhide could almost feel Prowl's tactical computer kick into high gear.
"Is that what I felt?" Prowl's voice lowered in volume. "When you saw him? Was that what took you out of mission mode?"
Utter silence greeted the question, or if there was a response, it was too quiet to be heard outside their quarters.
Ironhide felt his own systems calming, and he fully deactivated his weapons. He was still furious with what Jazz had done without is socket's consent. As much as was possible, Hide treated Will as an equal, a warrior in his own right, a fearless and courageous leader of his troops. Sarah, as Will's mate, was due the same respect. He could understand the need to prevent a socket from divulging dangerous information under duress, but he would never dream of doing such a thing without their knowledge or consent. Yet, what Jazz said was absolutely true. Knowledge that kill protocols were about to activate could lead to a horrible, prolonged and agonizing death.
He nearly moved on, confident now that Jazz was calm enough for Prowl to reason with, but something held his pedes in place and turned his audio receptors to full gain to catch the more normal conversational tones inside.
"Yea," Jazz nearly snarled, frustrated and angry. "Ya."
Ironhide could hear Prowl move closer to the door, and the sound of him pulling his bonded against him. "You're going to have to tell him. What you did and why you're so upset."
Jazz snarled again, inarticulate, and the scrape of metal on metal as he pulled away was harsh on Ironhide's audios. A sudden scrabble of both mechs, a clash of one hard chassis against another and the heavy thud of both hitting the floor as Jazz hissed in anger.
Hide listened carefully, alert that the altercation between the bonded pair had turned physical, though he was well aware that the sounds he heard could be the prelude to a particularly difficult spark merge to share what could not be said aloud. It was at that moment that Will walked up, somewhat out of breath.
~Something's up. I could feel you, old man.~ Will, as always, kept a physical distance in public out of respect for the sensibilities those who served under him. He instead reached out with affection and concern through the newly forming bond between the warriors.
~I was monitoring a particularly nasty argument between Prime's SIC and TIC. I believe the worst is over, but I will remain here to monitor the situation until I am certain.~
~Optimus shared a bit about that when we briefed each other this morning. I don't envy anyone involved. For my part, I can completely understand why Jazz did what he did. If it were me, I would have done the same. What we do here is far too important to risk on misplaced sentimentality.~
~I would never have done this to you without your consent, Will.~
~Hide, if you did this to me, which in all honesty you probably should, I wouldn't want to know. I was trained to take suicide pills under certain situations when I was in black ops. I'd much rather not have to be the one to do it if it had to be done. Jazz's way seems far more kind.~
~Miles isn't black ops, Will.~
~Doesn't matter. He is far too close to two of the most important mechs in this fight.~
Ironhide, not for the first time, found himself amazed that the good natured human could be so ruthless. But then again, considering that he, as one of the toughest frontliners in the history of the cause, was also enamored by paired organics and their offspring, such dichotomies should not be surprising.
He brushed against Will's mind with affection, and continued guarding the door and monitoring the room inside.
For as long as he'd known the mechs inside and their quiet but stormy relationship going from enemies, prisoners, friends, lovers and finally bonded, he'd witnessed his share of manipulation from them both. The bits and pieces he got from inside were no different. Even after this long as an Autobot, and being the one who pursued Prowl, sometimes force and a spark were all Jazz understood or respected.
~Who's the silver one?~ Will abruptly asked after several minutes, mentally indicating a slender, chrome-finish mech a bit shorter than Jazz with a natural grace evident even standing still.
Ironhide almost missed the question at the distinctive sound of chest plates parting behind the door. The weapons specialist could clearly identify the femme through Will's impressions, but he looked down the corridor nonetheless. ~One of Jazz's elite, Silver Shadow. I'm honestly surprised to see her visible and without her bondmate.~
While Hide had some measure of respect for most of those who worked under Jazz, he could not shake his own distaste with their methods, which if he were pressed, he would admit he found dishonorable but necessary. He'd take a good clean fight, evenly matched any day over the work they did in secret. Prime needed them and used them, but they did not fully belong to him in terms of loyalty. Jazz had built the division up on his own over long vorns and without question they belonged to him, not Prime. Ironhide could see their use, even their importance, but it did not mean he trusted a single one. He regarded the femme openly.
"Silver Shadow," he said simply by way of a greeting now that it was clear he had noticed her.
"Ironhide," she greeted him in turn, now making it very clear that she was staking the room out much as he was. She seemed to be relaxed against the wall, her optics drifting slowly back and forth along the corridor. "Major Lennox," she nodded to the human.
The relaxed look and pleasantries didn't fool Ironhide for a moment. She was there to protect her CO if he needed it, just as he was there to protect Prime's most important tactician.
They waited there in tense, silence, pretending to be at ease, for longer than Will could stay. A joor later and she was suddenly moving, walking towards her quarters with all her enticing natural grace that was both unconscious and very much intentionally crafted.
Ironhide took her cue and made his escape, not wanting to be caught by either officer outside their door after what had gone down.
Inside, Prowl held his bonded lover close as Jazz clutched him and shivered with his optic band off. They were both on the floor, the fight to sort out Jazz's reactions had left him as stunned as it had left Jazz upset. Despite how angry he was that Jazz hadn't asked Miles' permission and couldn't see the need to, he couldn't remain angry when his bonded was in this state.
~Is it really so terrible?~ Prowl brushed against Jazz's spark, trying to sooth it against the terror that gripped it so completely.
~When ya're me,~ he pressed against the larger mech. ~Ah can't afford that. Bad enough with you, bu'a human?~
~It happened,~ Prowl pressed his lips against the center of Jazz's helm. ~Take the pleasure, accept the pain, live to enjoy another day. You taught me that.~
~Smart aft,~ Jazz grumbled as he pulled himself together.
~Anything that works,~ Prowl chuckled fondly and placed a long, slow, tender kiss on his bonded's mouth, only to pull away when the response came.
Jazz growled at him.
~Skyfire is coming in to land,~ Prowl hushed him as they stood, only to draw Jazz into his arms again. ~If we want to see Miles before Ratchet is done with him, and Prime as well, it will be now.~
Jazz sighed and nodded, drawing away reluctantly as he put his cheerful public facade on. "Let's go."
At some point on the flight, Miles had nodded off and ended up wrapped in his polishing cloth/blanket, curled up on Ratchet's lap much the same way Jazz had found him with Prowl the day the mechs claimed him. The youth had slept very little during his captivity, and it was catching up with him. Ratchet's voice, far more gentle than his normal patients were accustomed to, woke him up after what felt like far too short a nap.
"We've arrived, Miles."
Miles, looking far younger at the moment than his 20 years, rubbed his eyes and stretched. He wrapped the cloth more tightly around himself as Ratchet picked him up and followed Prime onto the tarmac.
No one was surprised to see Jazz and Prowl there, or the hesitation in Jazz's step with how close Prime was to Miles. Prowl, though, had no such reservations and moved swiftly to Ratchet.
"It is good to see you again, Miles," the white mech reached to touch him, though he paid careful attention to make sure his touch was acceptable.
If Miles noticed the hesitancy, he didn't say anything. He simply reached out almost like a child to wrap his arms around the hand that touched him, making it very clear he was not letting go and expected a change of rides.
"My vacation kind of sucked, dude."
"I am sorry I could not be there," Prowl spoke softly as he gathered Miles from Ratchet, not caring that the medic glared at him.
"We both are," Jazz added, sounding as honestly apologetic as any mech there had heard him. "I'm sorry I left you. I could have stopped him if I'd been with you."
"It ain't your fault. You can't be around to protect me all the time.. And the shitty vacation might very well have been worth it considering the stuff we found out, huh?" Miles gave a half smile."
"Yes, well, once Ratchet has cleared you from medbay, we have a few things to discuss with you," Prowl's voice wavered slightly and Jazz looked down. "I am very ... pleased ... that you survived as well as you did."
"Miles, I need to do a complete physical now that we are back, to be certain there aren't any surprises left over from your time in captivity."
"No" Miles answer was quick and certain, digging in like a teenager.
"I'm afraid I must insist on it," Optimus interjected, moving closer.
"Look ... I've just spent the last several days doing stuff that someone else insisted on. I want to see Jazz and Prowl. You had the whole flight to do whatever it is you needed to do. I'm home now, and I want to be home. You can do my physical later. If Skywarp left any nasty surprises, I'm sure my guys can handle it."
Jazz seemed almost willing to back down, but Prowl closed both hands around his socket and faced his Prime with ramrod strait posture. "Sir, if he was infected with anything, our systems are better capable of containing it than even Ratchet's." The heavy tension that existed between Ratchet, Prime, and Prowl was obvious to anyone, including the human in the tactician's hands.
Nearly instantaneous communication passed between CMO and Prime. ::I don't like it, Optimus, but the boy is right. He has lost enough autonomy the past few days, not to mention what Jazz has done to him. His obvious emotional distress about the rape actually has made me more confident about his mental health and his ability to make an autonomous decision regarding Jazz.::
::I agree, and he may very well need more psychological help once Jazz and Prowl have spoken with him. I, for one want to speak with him after to make my own judgment as to the soundness of his decision making abilities. It is far too easy for organics to lose themselves in these claims and fail to make decisions in their own best interests.::
::Is that why you refuse to claim another? We can talk about that excuse later. Can you trust Jazz not to do anything more?::
::Sharing Sam is sufficient.:: It was clear that Optimus was not interested in that line of conversation continuing. ::Right now, no, I don't trust Jazz, but I do trust Prowl not to allow it. Jazz is as subdued as I have ever seen him. I only wish that we weren't sending Miles from emotional trauma to yet more emotional trauma. He is so very young for his species.::
Only seconds later Ratchet spoke.
"I understand your need to reconnect with Prowl and Jazz after what you have gone through, Miles, and they are well able to contain anything that may be lingering. I would still like to do a full physical, but it can wait a few hours."
Prime quickly commed his senior officers, ::You have two hours, and Prowl is to be present the entire time, including in any connection. Then I want him in medbay to speak with Ratchet and myself alone.::
Prime hated to give the order. He had never before seen a need to intervene in the relationship between any of his officers and their claimed sockets, and it felt horrible to do so now. But he felt little choice knowing just how very manipulative his SIC could be. It was one of those moments when he wished his base programming allowed him a bit more leverage when it came to the rights of organics. His Autobots and the sentients they protected could ill afford to lose Jazz or Prowl.
::Understood,:: Jazz responded first.
If Prime didn't know his SIC as well as he did, he'd have missed the combination of reflexive bristling at the order and the unique sound of a mech who'd accepted their fate. It left him wondering just what Prowl had done to put him in that state.
::Understood, sir,:: Prowl responded. He was less than pleased with the time limit, but it was enough. "Let us go home," he spoke softly to Miles as he turned to walk back to their quarters.
Miles' relief at being back in their quarters was palpable. Though he had only shared it with them for less than a week before his disastrous vacation, it was home now, perhaps more than any place he'd known. His relief, however, was tempered by the obvious fact that something was off with Jazz ... very off. He couldn't help but notice the contrast between the nearly giddy mech who had spoken with him through the newly formed bond as Miles' had talked with Skywarp, and the subdued one who had not even touched him since he had landed.
He tentatively reached out the way that had worked so well on the Nemesis. ~Dude, what's wrong? Has something happened?~
~A lot,~ Jazz responded, almost shying away from the contact. ~All my fault. Answered Prowl too honestly.~
"He does that occasionally, forgetting that I tend to report things to Prime, who frequently does not understand," Prowl added as he paused in the middle of the room. "I know you wish to share, to reconnect with us, but you may not want to after what needs to be said."
Miles eyes went wide and anxiety gripped his gut. This was not what he expected to come back to. He pursed his lips, then looked at Jazz hesitantly.
"I don't understand," he finally said to them both, his voice shaking. "What the hell could possibly make me not want to share with you? It is the only thing that kept me from freaking out the last few days ... knowing that somehow I wasn't alone, that somehow whatever you put in me kept me connected with you in some way, even if it was simply in my imagination."
Prowl shot a look at Jazz, who steadied himself and relaxed a bit.
"My nanites are programmed with a few extra surprises if my socket gets captured," the words came fairly smoothly, Jazz relaxing more as he spoke the easier of the two things he expected he had to admit to. "The one everyone's pissed at me about is the SpecOps kill protocols. A quick, clean death if you're about to break and turn on us."
Miles blinked several times, shock both at what Jazz said and the ease at which he said it leaving him without any emotion other than bewilderment.
"You programmed your nanites to kill me?" was all he could finally say, his voice reflecting his confusion.
"If you were about to betray us, yes," Jazz nodded, feeling almost like himself. "It's standard, at least for everyone I spend any close time with. Never occurred to me not to."
Shock quickly gave way to a sick sense of betrayal and an anger stronger than any he'd ever felt toward anyone save his dad.
His normally laid-back, friendly voice started out like ice but quickly turned to fire. "You asked me if I wanted to be claimed by you ... and it never occurred to you to let me know that involved putting something in me that could kill me? So did you program Prowl with kill protocols when you bonded? He spends a lot of close time with you!"
"I was important enough by then to have it installed already," Prowl answered.
"But yes, I would have," Jazz answered.
Miles felt his anger deflate at that, though not the bewilderment. He simply stared at Jazz from where he was still held by Prowl, unable to speak for several moments as he settled down and got a grip. When he did respond, it was soft, full of obvious hurt.
"Couldn't you have told me? At least explained why it was important and given me a choice? If I understood ... knew how important it was I probably would have agreed, you know. I mean, it's not like it hasn't occurred to me the last couple of days what a risk I am to you guys."
"It never occurred to me," Jazz repeated with a helpless shrug. "It just didn't. It's something that happens to everyone that gets that close to me. Mostly my agents, and none of them find out until they're senior officers. If you know it's coming, it's reflex to fight. If you fight, it's bad way to go. You remain aware when it takes you apart at the cellular level, shredding everything of potential value. If you don't see it coming, consciousness is the first thing to go and it's quick, clean and painless."
Miles just gaped at him, having no idea what to feel, think or say about any of it. Finally he settled on the obvious.
"Dude, this is so fucked up."
"This is war," Jazz pointed out. "Fucked up is inherent in the situation."
"I am unsure whether it will make you feel better or not, but until two days ago, I was unaware he was doing so," Prowl said. "Despite all our spark merges, I never noticed. Protecting us in such a manner that inherent in him."
Miles finally turned to look up at Prowl.
"And how do you feel about this? Do you agree with it being necessary? With him not asking me first?" Miles question wasn't heated. He honestly wanted to know because he had absolutely no idea how to feel. Jazz didn't seem malicious or cold, just absolutely ... clueless wasn't even the right word for it. The idea that it would never have occurred to Jazz to get consent for what he was did was chilling and fucked up and scary ... but it was also war. And Jazz had been at war for longer than Miles' brain could even begin to understand. Miles was a 20 year old kid whose first taste of war was finding out about Mission City after the fact. Even working at Diego Garcia, the first time the reality of war had ever hit him was when he was captured by Skywarp.
"I do find it prudent," Prowl said honestly. "I do not agree with not asking. Even if the exact details were withheld to make the activation clean, you should have been given the choice to have the protocols be active in your body. Jazz's agents are aware they are entering a dangerous profession in which many facts will be withheld from them and they must withhold them from others. It is the society they exist in. Treating you under the same assumptions is wrong."
Jazz bristled slightly and glared at his bonded. "Hypocrites, the lot of you." He shifted attention to Miles. "I'm not as different as they'd like you to think. Prime ordered me to add extra programs to the nanites while I was up there. Things that could get you killed by the Cons if they noticed. He ordered me to leave you so you'd infect them, I did it, again without cluing you in, and it was a good tactic, but I am not the only officer that will use any tactic they view as valid."
Miles closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Ok ... so let me see if I've got this. You put something in the nanites that would kill me if I was going to betray you, and didn't tell me. And Prime and Prowl are pissed at you for not telling me. But Prime sent you to the Nemesis to put something else in the nanites that could infect the 'Cons. And ordered you not to tell me. Which was probably a good idea because if you had told me and Skywarp had found out about it, he wouldn't have needed to kill me. The stuff you put in me would have done the job."
He shook his head, and started laughing incredulously at the insanity of it all. "I don't think I could ever have imagined something this fucked up on my own. And you know what beats it all? I really just wish you hadn't even fucking told me, any of it. Because now I don't trust you and every time I'm with you I'll be wondering what the hell you are doing to me now? But it doesn't matter, because now I know, and I feel like a fucking tool."
"Everyone is," Jazz shrugged. "After you get back from Prime and Ratchet making sure I didn't do anything else to use they didn't authorize, I can make the info go away if you want."
Prowl vented a small sigh, but didn't actually object.
Miles balked at Jazz's nonchalance. "Everyone is a tool, huh? Is that what sockets are, too? Cause feeling like a tool was why I wouldn't even share with Sunny. And now you offer to wipe it all out of my brain, so I can go back to being a blissfully ignorant tool. Is that it?"
"You said you'd rather have not been told," Jazz scowled. "I just offered to make what you wanted happen."
"Miles, he does mean everyone is a tool," Prowl said gently. "You, me, him, Prime, Megatron, Skywarp ... everyone. Just because I'm a tool of Prime's agenda, of Primus' will, of Jazz desires, dose not mean Jazz loves me any less. The spark-bond wouldn't have taken if he was less than completely dedicated to me. He can care a great deal for someone and still recognize their place in the greater scheme of things."
~Will you stop trying to make me sound more noble than I am?~ Jazz snarled across the bond, only to flinch away at the hurt he felt from Prowl.
Miles just glared. "So do you? Care about me, that is? Because the feeling I get right now is that you couldn't care less. And if you really couldn't care less about me, then frankly I don't want to forget and I certainly don't want to spend the next thousand years feeding your ice-cold spark no matter how good it feels."
He had a fraction a second to realize that lashing out at Jazz while being held by Prowl might not be the best idea. The larger mech's fingers twitched, curling inward in an unconscious response to the threat to his bonded. It was more than enough to completely drive home the point that Skywarp had taught him; mechs were big, powerful and inherently dangerous to such small life forms.
Jazz shifted to take a step back when Prowl focused his full attention on the smaller mech, his anger evident as clearly to the human in his hands as to the mech he was bonded with.
"Jazz..." Prowl grated out a warning usually reserved for the Terror Twins at their worst.
Miles froze, suddenly every bit as afraid as he had been the day with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. He was angry and hurt as he had ever been, was trying to understand, but Jazz's complete unrepentant nonchalance kept reinforcing how hurt and lost he felt, and he had finally lost it. And now he could feel Prowl physically holding back his own anger...and Jazz...
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his tone betraying his fear, hurt, and heartbreak. Shaking uncontrollably, the youth started to sob. "I didn't mean that, not all of it. It's just been too much. The whole thing with Skywarp and getting raped and coming back to this. It's just too much. I can't handle it."
"Jazz!" Prowl suddenly snapped, his voice rising almost as much as in their earlier fight. "Do not dare push him away because you are afraid. He doesn't deserve that."
The silver mech looked away sharply, his optic band all but completely powered down.
"It is not better for him," Prowl actually growled, reinforcing the statement through their bond. "You've never been a coward. Not in your entire life. Don't give in now because it will hurt less. You knew bonding to me would be far worse in the end."
Jazz's optic band flickered as he looked up at Prowl and steeled himself.
"Yes," he said the single word like it was nearly a death sentence.
Miles was shaking, sobbing, looking on with bewildered confusion, not sure he understood what Prowl was angry about or what Jazz was so upset about.
"Yes?" Miles asked between sobs. "As in you do care about me ... and that is a horrible thing?"
"I care too much about you," Jazz couldn't back down, not with the threat of his bonded thinking he was a coward. "Yes, that's a horrible thing. It's a weakness, a big one, that's going to be exploited the first time somebody works it out. I'm Ops. We can't get kicked out of mission mode because of anything or anyone. It gets a lot of good mechs killed." Now that he was talking, it was nearly impossible to stop. "I thought I was fine until I saw you in that cell. Then all my training, all my programming, everything went out the window and all I could think about was getting you home safe. Screw the mission, my orders, the consequences. Do you have any idea what can happen if the Cons find out I have that kind of weakness? Pit, do you have any idea what my own agents will do if they find out?"
Miles sat very still, for what felt to him like a long time, just thinking, trying to figure out the most confusing set of emotions he'd ever had to deal with. His mom and sister had been a cakewalk compared to this. But something finally seemed to click about Jazz's anger and fear and even his seeming indifference.
When he finally spoke, it was soft, almost gentle. "I don't ... I don't have any idea, Jazz, what they would do. I guess ... I assume that the 'Cons would try to use me against you, and the Skywarp thing would only be the beginning. And I suppose your own agents would probably take me out if it meant keeping you safe. I knew I was a risk to you ... I knew that as soon as Skywarp took me. I didn't understand how much of a risk."
Miles curled in on himself, looking down at his own hands.
"I don't want to be a risk to you. To either of you. What do you need to do so I'm not?"
Jazz drew a deep drought of air into his systems and expelled it slowly to steady himself. "Since you can't be dangerous enough on your own to be more trouble than it's worth, which is what Prowl did, I need to act like you aren't any more important to me than previous sockets. You need to do whatever you have to, leave us or come up with an act, for when word gets around and various mechs that like to think they have higher moral standards start to push. Too many already know about the kill code. It's going to piss a lot of mechs off when it filters around to the rest of the crew. They'll come after me, they'll tell you and expect you to be as horrified and angry as you first were. When it gets around that you know and if you're still with me, they'll start to try and find out why."
"More importantly, no matter what you say, they aren't going to believe it's the truth," Prowl said quietly. "Jazz is far too well known to be the master manipulator he is for anyone to believe he's not lying to you. Even I still get the periodic questioning about how I can trust him."
"It really comes down to acting like you normally do, but don't let it out how much I resisted telling you," Jazz added softly. "The smoother they think delivery was, the less they'll believe it. Hard for you, good for both our survival. I'm the one who has to figure out how to walk away if I need to for the good of the mission."
Miles gave a weak smile. "We have to do it in a way that I don't have to lie. It's too easy to scan vitals and hormones and stuff and know, and that is just going to lead to a whole bunch of questions and could make things even riskier. If I tell people I was angry at first, but agreed to it because you said how much you cared about me, it wouldn't be a lie and they'd think you were manipulating me. And it won't keep them from being pissed at you about it or trying to convince me otherwise, but I can just act dead sure that you love me and they'll just think you have me wrapped around your claw and eventually give it up."
He paused for a minute, and then looked at Jazz with a challenge in his eyes.
"But how do I know I'm not just being manipulated now? Prove it, dude. Show me. 'Cause then I can be totally honest, and they'll all just be convinced that you've done what you're best at."
"What would you have me do?" Jazz asked uneasily, his processors instantly going to what he'd demand, even though Miles was incapable of taking advantage of such access, even if he was willing to give it.
~You really wouldn't?~ Prowl looked at him.
~No. It's still better if he walks away,~ Jazz kept his optics on Miles. ~That jab about bonding was unfair, you know.~
~But true,~ Prowl pointed out. ~Losing me will hurt you a great deal more than losing Miles.~
~I'm not going to lose you,~ Jazz nearly snarled, though he kept it off his expression. ~I came back from the Pit for you. I'm not going to lose you to time.~
~Love, you know I wasn't built to last.~
~Stop it!~ Jazz raged silently. ~Just stop it,~ he stilled almost completely inside. ~Let me deal with that when it happens and not a moment before.~
~Very well,~ Prowl tried to offer his support and found himself blocked from such an active effort. At one time he would have pressed, asked to know why he was being partially shut out. It wasn't something he bothered with anymore. He would find out if his calculations were correct soon enough.
Miles sat, thinking hard about what Jazz had asked. What did he want Jazz to do? He finally looked up.
"I don't know, Jazz. I guess there's nothing you can do. I don't have the ways of knowing and seeing things that you guys have. Humans can't ever really know. We just have to take it on faith and hope for the best. You could plug in and show me exactly what I want to see ... and it could still be manipulation and a lie. I'll never know for sure."
Miles closed is eyes and his body radiated tension. Then he sighed and looked at Jazz again.
"I love both of you. You were what kept me from panicking on the Nemesis and doing something really stupid that would get me killed. I never once felt alone. And when you told me you were really there, I felt like there was nothing I couldn't face because you had come to me and promised me that if things got really bad, you'd get me out. It gave me the guts to try to get Skywarp to open up, and look where that led. I felt like I was part of something that's really important, that's a lot bigger than me. I guess I'd rather spend my life believing that you care about me and die not ever knowing if I was wrong. And you obviously are all tied up in knots about something. So I'm just going to have do what humans do ... choose to believe or choose not to."
He watched as Jazz seemed to relax a bit.
"Ya have common sense," Jazz chuckled weakly.
Prowl glanced at his bonded, then focused on Miles. "He's had a few very painful reminders lately about how much of his existence he doesn't control anymore. I am pleased you wish to stay with us," he said honestly, gently brushing the human's side with a digit. "I hope you can give him the time it will take to accept his new weakness and it's risks."
Miles leaned into Prowl's touch like someone who was starving. "What else can I do? That's what you do when you love people. You put up with all of their shit."
"I will attempt to be less of a burden than your family," Prowl said with a formality that was so natural to him it was comforting in it's own way. "What would you like to do, until you must report to Ratchet?"
"Not a burden," Miles grinned, relaxing and leaning back against the strange combination of lover and father figure that was Prowl. "I want to show you guys all of it. I mean ... I don't know how long you were there, Jazz, but there is some really amazing stuff. Like Skywarp...in his own messed up way he really did care about the organics there. He even brought a live deer in for his avian to hunt, and then Thundercracker took it out flying. And Flitfire, this little Insecticon that Skywarp ordered to share with me was so blown away that he snuck back in the middle of the night, but then he freaked out and left when I tried to convince him to come back with me. And the feline, Radfire ... he was totally amazing, even if the dude raped me. It wasn't his fault, and it could have been so much worse."
Miles was babbling and he knew it. He was just so relieved that the tension was broken that he couldn't really stop himself.
"I was there for that," Jazz trembled in remembered rage he had somehow kept in check enough to remain hidden. "Why don't we sit down," he motioned to the couch rather than the berthroom. "I can show you a bit of what I was up to in retaliation."