Once again, straight off AO3:
So you can thank Laura but also Aard_Rinn for this chap coming out now. Laura because she's always asking for more, and Aard because they write like a speed demon and their JnP fic was like sticking a lighter near my muse's gas bottle.
Churned out a couple thousand words after being stuck on a part of this chap for weeks, finished it in less than five days. Such is the nature of my bullshit brain lol.
Not a lot of plot progression, but plenty of world building in this chap! Plus a healthy mixture of angst and fluff. No music recommendations beyond the same shit from the last chapter or so.
So yeah, enjoy!
~Death Out
Optimus hesitated at the door.
Jazz looked back at him, barely keeping his annoyance in check. He motioned his head without saying anything, but the implied 'what the slag are you stopping for just get in here' was clear.
He took a deep ventilation, resisting the urge to close his mask over his face. With every step he could feel it more acutely.
That yawning, aching void in Prowl's spark was clear as day to the Matrix, and it let him know insistently how bad it was.
Jazz had already disappeared around the partitioning screens, murmuring voices greeting him.
Optimus had no idea how they would receive him. He fully expected hostility. He believed it was entirely deserved.
/You gotta bite the bullet at some point/
He glanced over at Ratchet, who was watching him with arms folded.
Optimus wanted to retort, but he didn't have it in him to argue when the matrix itself was drawing him towards Prowl almost magnetically. He didn't understand why, but he couldn't fight it AND Ratchet AND Jazz, so he screwed up his resolve and walked around the tall screens.
At first none of them even noticed him. The pack was clustered around Prowl's berth, all in root mode. The twins leant on the head of the berth, Inferno and Trailbreaker standing at Prowl's right, Hound at the foot and Bumblebee was sat curled into Prowl's left side, clutching his servo.
Jazz stood on the left side, leant over it to press his helm to Prowl's. A careful servo straightened the cables coming from the back of his neck to make it more comfortable for him.
Optimus shuffled up beside Hound, hoping to go unnoticed. It didn't last very long, Sunstreaker's almost indigo optics flicking up to fix on his.
Oh… now he really understood what Jazz had meant when he talked about that primal fear response. It didn't show in his field, or on his face, but something deep in his coding twinged with the urge to run before he quickly dismissed it.
Sunstreaker might be on the larger side as far as Wolfmechs went, but he was still a fair bit smaller than Optimus. Although Sideswipe's matching gaze falling on him didn't give him much confidence about who would come off better…
What was he thinking? He wasn't going to FIGHT these bots. He was supposed to be here to offer support. The Matrix pulsed in an almost admonishing way at him, pulling his focus back to that piercing ache it projected insistently. It was like it was waiting for him to DO something about it.
Jazz straightened, which diverted Optimus' gaze down where it locked with the pale gold of Prowl's barely powered optics. He knew without hearing that the twins had told him he was there, but he was sure Prowl had recognised his field the moment he'd come into range.
He realised suddenly that rather than feeling open hostility from the rest of the pack, their field had already begun trying to sync with his. And his had automatically been syncing with Prowl's.
He wished more now than ever that he understood the matrix better. There was probably a lot of significance to what it was doing, and he could probably use it in some way to help… but he had no idea HOW. It didn't exactly come with a manual. All he had to go on were vague feelings he hoped steered him right.
He wasn't sure he was comfortable with the urges it sent through him. Perhaps he'd just have to get used to the idea that as a prime, he wasn't allowed the luxury of spark secrecy…
Optimus shifted, walking to stand by Jazz. He noticed Bumblebee staring up at him with wide, wary optics. Very carefully, he knelt, placing a servo on Prowl and Bumblebee's joined ones, and then opened his chestplates.
He doubted any of them realised he'd never done so with so many bots present before. He wasn't even sure if the significance of the gesture was lost on them. It was actually a little comforting to think that maybe it was normal by their standards.
Once the matrix was bared though, he didn't have much control over it. It took over doing whatever it was it had pulled him there to do, and his optic shutters drifted shut as he fell into the feelings that whirled through it and into him.
It was like sinking into another world that sat just beneath the normal perception of most sensors. Suddenly every spark nearby was like a beacon, a star map forming in his mind, colours of emotion swirling from each one. Little lines like constellations dancing and swirling and breaking between them as their fields passed or tangled.
Prowl's was by far the faintest, sitting nestled by a web of other fields of much stronger sparks. The Matrix honed in on it, reaching out through subspace and cocooning the faded light.
Prowl's E.M field responded with a shuddering flare, a hard ventilation leaving him as he was suddenly relieved of a great deal of the pain. His sensors sharpened, everything coming into much clearer focus.
The rest of the pack stood with plating and kibble flared unconsciously. The power of the matrix was… not something known to them in any way. Even Jazz, who'd had the matrix used on him by Optimus more than once, was a little shocked by the strength of it. But he didn't fail to notice its effect.
Ratchet even slipped around the screens by the wall to see what exactly what Optimus was doing. He frowned slightly, only able to tell from the light dancing off Prowl's plating that the Prime had actually opened his chestplates.
It normally made him nervous, he was glad at least that for once Optimus was doing it in the safety of the medbay. The sounds of the machines connected to Prowl was what made him shuffle closer. A quick check of the readings had his orbital ridges shooting up and jaw falling open.
He looked down at Prowl, who's optics were bright gold, staring at Optimus with intense focus.
Ratchet was suddenly gripped with worry. So the matrix could bolster his spark function by slowing the leak of spark energy into subspace… good to know, but his question was what would happen when it STOPPED doing that. What would happen when Optimus LEFT, because there was no way for him to stay there until Prowl's spark healed completely.
He knew he'd have to catch Optimus before he stopped whatever… THIS was, but for now he knew there was no chance of talking to him. He'd already learnt how unreachable he was when he fell into the matrix like this.
Ratchet simply watched carefully, waiting, as Optimus moved. His optics opened, now white rather than blue. He ducked his helm low, until it was level with Bumblebee's, and brought their helms carefully together.
Bumblebee didn't pull away, compelled to lean into the gesture and stiffening slightly when their plating made contact. He soon relaxed, ears pinning back as Optimus seemed to communicate something to him wordlessly.
It was more feelings than words, though bumblebee swore he could read glyphs in his mind. Apology, comfort, promises to do better…
Some part of him wanted to be bitter, wanted to reject it all… but he was so tired and overwhelmed and just… glad that Prowl didn't blame him that he leant into the comfort and drank it up like a mech starved.
Eventually though he knew Optimus needed to move onto the bot he really needed to be apologising to. The Prime moved his helm away, shifting to bring it into contact with Prowl's.
Those piercing golden optics followed the Prime's own unfalteringly.
The moment their plating touched, Optimus felt the fire of grief cut through him. He didn't falter, letting Prowl's emotions rush through his spark. Optimus moved the servo not already occupied to rest on Prowl's chestplates lightly.
The motion was enough to make Prowl's emotional bombardment wane, falling into a melancholic ache that had nothing to do with the physical spark damage.
Optimus offered his apology without any expectation that Prowl would accept it.
It surprised him when he did.
Prowl's anger didn't abate, but it wasn't directed at him.
All Optimus could do was offer him the spark support necessary to allow him the energy to grieve.
Optimus sipped on the cube Ratchet had shoved in his servos.
He'd never felt so drained before, and honestly he wondered if he shouldn't just cancel every appointment he had that day. Not just because of how tired he was, but because he wanted more time to ruminate over what he'd just done.
It was frustrating that he didn't know more about the functions of the matrix. Clearly it had some sort of spark-healing abilities, because even after his chestplates had closed and he'd come back to himself, Prowl's spark had remained steadier, his energy leak slower.
There was a high likelihood that his continued close proximity had something to do with it, and even though he knew he couldn't stay there indefinitely it still gave him hope that he could actively do something to help.
"So, I take it you've actually started to calibrate to the Matrix"
Optimus blinked up at Ratchet, slightly confused. The look he got in return was not encouraging.
"Sorry Ratchet… I'm not sure I follow."
Ratchet frowned at him slightly. "Don't tell me Elita turned you out into the world without explaining ANYTHING about the time it takes to attune to the matrix."
The look Optimus gave him was all the answer the medic needed. Ratchet shuttered his optics and dragged a servo over his faceplates. "Primus take me does no one around here follow any sort of common sense protocols or have they all been corrupted? I'm giving her priority tree a reboot next time she's in. Come on then, I suppose it's better you get taught something later rather than never."
Optimus frowned, sliding off the berth he'd been sitting on but hesitating to follow. "Wait, what about Prowl?"
"He'll be fine, your aura stretches further than you realise. Plus, I have all of the equipment synced to my internal pager. On top of that, I literally can't discuss anything Primehood specific in a non-private space, so, office."
Despite still being fairly confused, Optimus trusted Ratchet enough to follow without any further questioning, sitting heavily in one of the chairs across from the desk as Ratchet closed and locked the door.
The white and red bot sat at his desk, rather than in the chair directly next to him as Optimus had expected. Ratchet wasn't normally so formal when they were alone discussing his private medical issues, but then the bot leant down and started fiddling with a locked cabinet against the back wall. A moment later, he emerged, plonking a giant, old, gaudily embellished data console on the desk in front of him.
Optimus blinked at it, recognising the old cybertronian glyphs and first-age styling of the decorations, but finding himself falling deeper into confusion.
"THIS is the medical compendium of the Primes. When I was first appointed chief medic to the Prime, I was presented with this, and implanted with a code that literally stops me from speaking about private health concerns related to any living Matrix bearer. Except in the presence of the current Matrix bearer, with their consent."
Optimus gave him an alarmed look, Ratchet just nodding in understanding.
"It's a stupid, terribly antiquated system designed to keep the secrets of Primehood safe, except it poses a slew of massive health risks to you. Which you don't need to worry about, since Wheeljack already discovered the stupid code doesn't stop me letting other bots copy from this tome, so he already has it backed up safely in case you're unconscious and I can't get your consent to tell other medics what to do to fix you should I be unable to for whatever reason. "
"Wait, what does the code do to you if you DO try to discuss the… 'secrets of Primehood', with bots that aren't me?"
"Locks up my vocaliser until the Matrix-bearer releases it by command. It's not a serious problem since, again, we discovered I can just write down what I would say and it can't stop that. We assume that was never factored into the code because it was written back when a lot of bots were illiterate so they didn't consider it a risk. It's annoying, but we've done what we can to eliminate any actual safety problems it might cause."
"I see. So this is the handbook for treating Matrix bound bots hmm?" Optimus leant forward, tilting his helm to look over the large, extremely old fashioned data storage unit. "I don't think I've seen anything that old actually still functional."
"Oh it's plenty functional, trust me. More medics than I could trace have kept it in good working order, but it also isn't built as shoddily as a standard unit of its type. THIS one was made to LAST. You wouldn't know it, but it's survived at LEAST three bombings that destroyed whatever wing of the Prime compound it was being housed in. Barely a scratch on it, and the interface isn't even cracked a bit. Here-"
Optimus reeled back a bit when Ratchet picked it up and tossed it at him. He fumbled it slightly before getting a decent grip and made a slightly annoyed sound at the medic. Ratchet just laughed.
"Trust me, you're not gonna break it. You probably won't find it very useful either, but can't hurt for you to look at the pictures. The language is mostly technical, but that's what I'm here for. I'm not just your physician, I'm also your translator for that slag."
Optimus turned on the screen of the unit and made a surprised sound when it booted like it was a freshly minted data-pad. He wondered if he hadn't already known how to read old cybertronian before being made Prime whether the Matrix would have imbued him with the ability.
Fairly quickly he realised that Ratchet had been right, and the structure of the language was entirely set up for medics. Context barely existed, terminology was in full scientific terms to dispel ambiguity, and a whole lot of it was like an intense shorthand designed to give as much pertinent information as quickly as possible. Which was extremely useful to a doctor who may be trying to save a life, but utterly useless and baffling to everyone else.
"Now, I know there USED to be a tome like that for the Prime themselves to read. It was incredibly secret, I'm one of maybe three bots who are supposed to know it exists. Except it's been missing ever since Nova, and I'm fairly sure he either hid it or destroyed it. Though hid is more likely given how tough that thing is. Fragger didn't want to face the reality of being a false Prime I'm guessing."
Optimus snorted at that, turning off the tome and placing it back on the desk gently. "That does sound like a Nova thing to do. I would ask him about it, if I knew what he sounded like… assuming he's even in there given the whole false Prime thing. But I mean, I hear Sentinel occasionally, and he was also a fraud wasn't he?"
Ratchet nodded. "Yes, and Zeta, and apparently Nexus who we think was the first one to claim the Matrix without it bonding to him. I don't know, since Zeta was the one to appoint me. Zeta was most definitely not bonded to it. Nova, also can't be sure, but I can't say I'm sad he died before I met him."
"So… about the bonding… if the Prime's handbook was lost, how do you know so much about what exactly I'm supposed to be expecting from the bonding process, and why don't I know about it?"
Ratchet crossed his arms and cleared his vents in exasperation. "Elita explained a lot of it to me, since she used to be the keeper of the book. She's literally the only bot other than me and you allowed to read the thing, so she's got a fair bit memorised. So if you know nothing, it's because she failed to tell you when it was her slagging job. Lucky for you, despite the fact I never got a look at the thing, Elita passed on most of what she knew to me as well."
Optimus waved his servo impatiently. "Alright, I get it, she slacked off a bit on her duties. Can you please just tell me already what you meant when you said 'attuning' to the matrix?"
"Well, in simplified terms, It's pretty much the same as any new equipment you have installed. It's gotta go through its installation process, and then your processor has to get used to running it alongside whatever else it's already running. Except with the Matrix, your spark ends up far more involved with the process, which complicates it a bit. So I suppose it's more like a new piece of equipment that spark bonds to you and has drivers that have to install in your spark, which you then have to calibrate."
Optimus made a face at that. "Drivers installing in my spark? That sounds… unpleasant, in so many ways."
Ratchet sat back, arms crossed, and raised an orbital ridge. "It's a simile Optimus. It doesn't literally inject hard code into your spark, the bonding process is far more organic than that. We're talking about something that's made of pure primal energy, it has to ease your spark into dealing with that primal energy so it doesn't kill you on contact."
Optimus blinked at that, shifting slightly in his seat with a concerned frown. "How did it not kill the false primes if it's that volatile?"
"Easy. It didn't even try to bond with them because it knew if it did they would just die. It's also why they didn't try and force it, because they knew better…well, all except Nova, he did kill himself trying, and it was covered up as death caused by an old war wound to the spark. He didn't have any 'war wounds', he was a colonist who killed weaker organics and took their land. His main damage was that he got so far up his own tailpipe he went bonkers."
"Surely more than one of them tried it? Honestly I'm surprised it didn't intentionally try to kill them, considering what some of them did." As if to back him up, the matrix pulsed gently against his spark, the whispers of some angry false primes drowned out by the mild amusement of the ones that had been real.
Ratchet gave him a slightly stern look at that. "Careful, your renegade police chief is showing. According to the old handbook, the matrix is actually fairly impartial without a prime bonded to it. It feeds off your emotions, without a bonded Prime it doesn't really engage, it's pretty much just dormant. When it does bond, it takes some time to get used to your personality and particular spark quirks. Again, all part of the calibration stage."
"So… what I just did, with Bumblebee, and Prowl… did I… tap into the primal energy? Is that what that is, technically? Because I've just been sort of feeling this out with the matrix pushing at me to do things and trusting it. Should… Should I not be?"
Ratchet regarded him with an expression of resigned frustration. "Yes, you are accessing primal energy. Not at all to its full potential, according to a lot of things mentioned in the medical tome… but I can't really advise on whether you SHOULD, or how wise it is to follow the urgings of the matrix. I'm not, have never been and will never be a bearer. In all honesty, I haven't got a slagging clue what it must be like to be bonded to the thing. But so far… everything you've done with it has come out okay, or better than expected… so it seems you must be doing something right."
Optimus nodded with some sense of relief, even if Ratchet couldn't provide him with firm assurances. He would take what he could get. "How will I know… when I'm fully bonded to it?... Will I… will my being able to feel things... Sparks, passing… will that get stronger?"
Ratchet let out an expansive ex-vent.
"You'll KNOW when it happens. Trust me… you'll know. All this slag with you feeling deaths, feeling sparks suffering, it's all part of it. You can't control the degree to which you feel anything until you're in sync with the matrix. It will get better, but before that, it'll probably get worse. You feel sparks transitioning to the well because the matrix is a conduit tapped into primordial subspace. And even Wheeljack is reluctant about trying to tap into primordial subspace. For starters, it's HARD. REALLY hard. And it should be, because so far as we know, that's the pathway between every spark and the well of allsparks. If any concept of god exists in any real way, it's living in primordial subspace… at least partially… and probably on several other planes of existence simultaneously according to Perceptor. But yeah, you've got one of the only conduits capable of tapping into that, so you feel it when something moves through it."
Optimus' optics brightened at the revelation of exactly WHY the Matrix was so special. "…Oh… Elita wasn't kidding when she said it was the direct line to Primus…"
Ratchet snorted. "No. She was not. And I don't know that I'd call it direct, really… a consciousness on that level, being able to focus down to a porthole as small as the matrix? There's a reason you retain your own personality, rather than just being Primus' hijacked body puppet constantly. You know I'm not a terribly religious mech, but Perceptor's science is very hard to argue with. An entity on the scale of Primus, theoretically speaking, would have to pull a monumental amount of focus to actually use you as a coherent conduit and also not break you entirely. Imagine trying to manipulate a single nanite with your spark without breaking it somehow. We assume that's why he simply lends you primal energy to use as you see fit, and very, VERY rarely according to any texts, actually tries to directly speak through a prime."
"But…" Optimus' brow knitted in confusion, "He's… I know it sounds cliché, but he HAS spoken to me. I know I don't talk about it, it's hard to explain, the conversations aren't… normal, they don't work like this," he gestured between them, "-it's more concepts mingling in a space that isn't really consciousness… how is that different to taking over my frame? It makes me unresponsive to outside stimuli as it is."
"Couldn't tell you for sure, but if I had to guess, I'd say it's the difference between comm calling someone and remotely hacking them. Except the comm call requires all your bandwidth." Ratchet shrugged. "Communicating with you, specifically, when you're already tied into his subspace is probably a lot easier than him trying to move through the matrix like a portal and enter your systems directly."
Optimus blinked, with a soft 'oh'. That did make more sense.
Ratchet took the tome off his desk and locked it away again before standing and stretching. "I have the feeling any questions you want to keep asking are going to fall more into Elita's area of expertise. So you're best off filing them away for the next time you see her. For now… I wouldn't try pulling more primal energy up until you've had a good long recharge. I already had your schedule cleared for the day as medical leave, and the ISO suite just out of my office is unlocked. I suggest you recharge in there a while, keep your field around to let Prowl's spark stabilise a little more. I really don't want to test what happens if you put some distance between you right now."
Optimus nodded, placing his empty cube in the disposal as he stood to leave but pausing by the door. "Ratchet… are you CERTAIN the ability to feel other mechs gets better? Will I have some measure of control over the sensitivity?"
"Fairly sure of it… is it bothering you too much to recharge? I have a chip you can use for override-"
"I'm alright for the moment but…" He hesitated, glancing back at Ratchet before staring at the door ahead unseeingly. "He's in so much pain Ratchet. It's… it's constant, I can feel it halfway across the compound, and I don't… I can handle it, to a point. Beyond that though…"
His words tapered off, leaving a few moments of uneasy silence between them before Ratchet replied, voice soft but tight.
"I know. You won't be able to stay near him all the time… I'll do what I can for him, but… it's the nature of that kind of injury. It's going to get worse before it gets better as well. If he pulls through the recovery… he has the strongest chance of any mech I've treated, but it's going to be rough. You're not going to like what you feel, and it's not even going to match what HE'S going to be experiencing."
Optimus thunked his helm lightly on the door, peering through its little window at the screens blocking his view of the bot who's spark tugged at the matrix constantly. The matrix had never felt quite so heavy in his chest as it did now.
The next time he managed to drag himself up into full consciousness, Prowl was able to actually discern words. Some time seemed to have passed since Optimus' visit, but the only bot who he couldn't feel nearby other than the Prime was Hound. He could still feel his whole pack, and Jazz, as well as Ratchet.
"There he is. That didn't take as long as I expected, but it's probably got something to do with Optimus."
Prowl booted up his optics sluggishly, glad beneath the haze of full body ache and the feel of a black hole somewhere at his centre that doing so didn't blank out his other sensors again.
Ratchet was leaning over him, adjusting some of the cables coming out of the base of his helm. His winglets twitched weakly beneath him as he felt Ratchet run a scan of some sort.
"Can you hear and understand me yet Prowl?"
It took a moment or two to get his vocaliser to online, spitting soft static before he managed to reset it. "Hello Ratchet."
The medic gave him a broad, gentle smile, relief clear in his optics. "Hello. How are you feeling?"
Prowl gave that a little consideration, cycling his dimmed optics before answering. "Like Grimlock body slammed me into an oncoming cogboar."
The medic gave him a very sympathetic look, and he felt the twins physically flinch at the description. He felt agreement over the bond with his assessment. They of course knew exactly how he felt, since he was still too weak to shutter the bond from his end and they both continued not to do it from theirs. He sent a small wave of admonishment for it, and got back defiant affection.
"Do you feel up to me explaining some things about your condition right now, or would you prefer to wait?"
Prowl focussed back in on Ratchet, once again taking a moment to consider.
"I think… it's probably best I try to take it in now… I may need to be refreshed on some things later."
Ratchet nodded. "That's fine. I do need to ask though, even though I'm fairly sure I know the answer already… are you comfortable with your pack being here while I discuss your personal medical condition, or would you prefer some privacy?"
There was no hesitation at that question. "I want them here. They need to know."
The medic simply nodded, shifting to grab Prowl's chart from atop the machine he was plugged into.
"Alright, well. I'll cut right to the chase. Your spark is in an extremely delicate state at the moment. I don't want you trying to get up, or strain yourself in any way. And I mean ANY way. If you need something, even if it's just an itch scratched or to shift to a more comfortable position, do not hesitate to call myself, Wheeljack, FirstAid, whoever is on duty will assist. I know your pack mates will want to help, but in the interests of safety I'd ask you call one of the staff. The last thing we want is someone accidentally knocking any of your support lines loose."
Prowl forced his optics to focus in on Ratchet's face to show he was listening. He gave a weak nod to show he understood, which seemed enough for Ratchet.
"Of course, if you feel any kind of change in your spark function, any changes in your pain or malfunctions, no matter how small, let us know immediately. It's no imposition if we're busy, I've already got your monitors patched into my systems so I should be able to catch any problematic changes immediately. But sometimes things will go awry that aren't being read by the monitors, so if I'm not already making my way to your berth, call whoever is closest and let them know, alright?"
The alpha gave him a less than sure look. "I'm… I may struggle with that… I'm used to ignoring those sorts of things"
Prowl didn't really expect the look of anger-sadness-understanding that flashed across Ratchet's face as he placed a gentle servo on his arm.
"I know. It will be hard for you… for most of your pack, as well, most likely. Jazz was the same at first." He glanced up at the silver and white mech, who was stood on the opposite side of the berth, running his claws softly over a winglet. "-Wouldn't even acknowledge his injuries, HID them from me even. But I'm hoping that because you're all so tuned into each other, that even if you miss a change, one of your pack mates will notice and catch our attention for you."
The bots around the berth all nodded, every single one of them completely attentive to Ratchet. It was refreshing at least to have patients so willing to actually pay attention to his instruction.
"Good. Now… what I really need to warn you about, with an injury such as yours, is that the healing process for sparks is not like regular components. It's not entirely linear. There aren't any nanites making repairs, the spark has its own repair function which fluctuates. It's hard to explain the mechanics of it without you knowing a lot about quantum physics, but in laymech's terms it will go through active and dormant periods of repair. And those periods are not regular or predictable, they are highly affected by your mood and energy levels and a host of much smaller influences."
Prowl forced his processor to intake everything Ratchet said, trying to commit it carefully to memory. But he could also sense something coming that he knew he wasn't going to like, could feel it in Ratchet's field. Could read it in his optics as he sighed.
"I'm sorry Prowl, but there's going to be periods where you'll feel like your spark is trying to implode in on itself. It's going to be hard. It may pose a risk of destabilising you, despite your progress so far. In my personal opinion, I don't think it will, not given what you've pulled through up to this point… and accounting for your strong bonds, which are a huge assistance in keeping you stable. But when your spark goes through its repair phases, it's going to hurt, a lot."
Prowl didn't react much to that revelation beyond cycling a small sigh.
"To be honest… I do not think any pain beyond feeling them die will be able to compare…"
He knew his frame would be trembling if it had the power to, but he was acutely aware of how much it felt like nothing more than a heavy cage holding his consciousness, every part of him divorced from himself except for the hand still holding Bumblebee's and the touches on his winglet. Those two grounding forces were the only thing beating away the complete dissociation that threatened to overwhelm.
The surge of grief had Sunstreaker and Sideswipe reaching out to tilt his helm up slightly to face them, their helms dipping to press to his, their own grief echoing back.
Ratchet could feel the pain pouring off them, and had to ruthlessly supress the choking of his engine as it caused his medic coding to rear up, demanding he do something to ease his patient's suffering. He knew there was nothing to be done for this. The best he could offer was a distraction.
Ratchet moved his servo to smooth Prowl's shoulder plating, grabbing his attention again. The twins raised their helms, but stayed bent over, wanting to keep as close to him as they could without crowding him. Prowl's optics refocussed on Ratchet, slightly paler than before. "I take it there is more…"
"Beyond the problem of repair phases, you will also experience fluctuating energy levels. Some days you'll be able to walk as if nothing was wrong, other days you will hardly be able to move. As your spark gets stronger, the lethargy will become less severe, but it will most likely be a long time before you're capable of the same feats of endurance you've been used to performing up to now."
"Do you mean I will never be able to do those things again?"
There wasn't any real disappointment in Prowl's voice, mostly the sense that he just wanted to clarify. That surprised Ratchet a little, but he decided the reaction may well be from his tiredness and stress, and dismissed it.
"Not necessarily, it just may take a few vorn. There aren't many cases to draw from with this type of injury, certainly none have been as severe… but only two are known to have failed to recover their former output capacity completely. They both have enough output to function perfectly well, they just can't run marathons or drive long distances without many rest periods."
Prowl seemed relieved by that at least. "Well, since I can no longer be forced to hunt ironbears and cogboars and fight rotoraptors… I don't suppose I will mind so much."
Ratchet blinked at him, understanding suddenly why he hadn't been so bothered by the prospect of not regaining the same output levels. "A fair point. But we'll see, I'm still confident you can regain your former strength given how far you've come in such a short span. Now, beyond your spark injury, you had several physical problems I've had to fix, and some that may require further surgery. I haven't gone ahead with some procedures because they will require your spark strength to improve first."
Prowl nodded weakly again. He hadn't actually thought about his physical condition, since his spark injury was all-consuming, and any other physical discomfort was lost in the mire of pain it caused.
"I had to perform a few minor protoform grafts, since the shots at close range damaged some areas quite badly. I also finally managed to get in and replace a few of the linkages in your spinal strut around that cord damage. There were several microfractures in it still, I'm fairly sure they were caused by the strain of the hunt events back to back, not to mention the moves you had to pull to take down that rotoraptor. But the good news is, it should fully recover with you being berth-bound for a while. And it won't feel as stiff, since your old linkages were developing minor spurring from misalignment."
Prowl's optics regained some colour upon hearing that. It would be nice to flex his spine without the twinges and pressure of those components shifting against each other incorrectly.
"We ended up replacing a lot of poor quality parts that had been installed in previous repairs, mostly energon and coolant lines. Removed your modules completely and did a sweep to make sure there weren't any other hidden nasties installed that shouldn't be there. Unfortunately, the modifications in your processor will have to remain until we can get an experienced mnemosurgeon in. And considering the probable outcomes of that procedure, we'll need to wait until your spark has repaired significantly."
Prowl seemed to focus in on that, frowning very slightly. "What do you think he has locked away from me?"
Ratchet held his gaze, sighing softly. "In all honesty, we can't be sure. If I had to guess, incriminating memories. You had to have witnessed a lot of his shadier dealings, you may even have been forced to be involved in them, but there's really no point dwelling on it for now. We know at least it's likely to be stressful, when we investigate it, so we want to make sure you're ready physically AND mentally and that will take time."
Prowl nodded, optics losing the intensity of focus that had made Ratchet feel like he was being target locked. He realised it probably was a form of target lock, modified by mechalycan code. It didn't bother him overly much, he was starting to get used to the predator gaze of this caste of bots. It reminded him so much of seekers it almost felt nostalgic.
"Beyond that, we're monitoring your new parts to make sure they integrate. Some may not, you might even require some extremity replacements if your spark doesn't manage to supply enough energy to them for long periods. We're expecting it though, so don't be too alarmed if part of your plating or a servo greys out. We can usually catch it in time to stabilise the part until your spark improves."
Prowl seemed slightly perturbed by that, but still gave a nod of understanding.
"That about sums up the important stuff. Did you have any questions?"
It took the alpha a moment or so, gaze shifting down to Bumblebee where he was still curled into his hip.
"What about my pack? Are they alright? Did you find anything hidden in them?"
Ratchet shook his helm, patting the shoulder under his servo reassuringly. "We removed their modules as soon as we were done with your initial surgeries. And we did the same check on them, didn't find anything. Well, nothing done by the tyrant. Unfortunately we've come across some code modifiers that were done by Shockwave, but that wasn't just in your pack, that was across every pack we've worked on so far. We're still working our way through, but we've almost finished with module removal and basic medical assessments. I'll let you know what we find out when we get some deeper investigation done, but don't worry about it. We don't think any of it poses any threat going forward, it's all passive code mods."
Prowl frowned slightly but seemed relieved nonetheless that his pack was well. "I… I'm not sure if you can tell me, but… what was it, that happened with the Prime? When he came to see us…"
Ratchet hadn't actually been expecting that question, but he definitely noticed Bumblebee's attention focussing in on him in that target-lock way. It seemed he was also keen to understand.
"Ah, yes, that… Well, he doesn't do it very often, and I'm not sure how much more frequent it's likely to get. I'm not exactly an expert on it, but I know that in essence he's pulling his consciousness into the matrix and sort of… syncing with it, drawing up primal energy. It's the closest thing he can do to channelling Primus, even though he's told me that technically he's NOT channelling Primus. It's… well, it's how he figures out how to help bots he doesn't know how to help."
Prowl blinked at him owlishly, mouth falling partly open.
"Wait…" Ratchet turned his attention to Sideswipe as he stared ahead unseeingly, confusion clear in the cant of his audials. "That… he tries to draw on GOD to help nobodies like US?... But… Primus doesn't care about us…"
That had Ratchet's optic ridges shooting up, and Jazz shifting to look up as well, considering Sideswipe with understanding in his field. A feeling of sadness bloomed strong across Ratchet's spark, but he did his best to keep it from his field, glad when Jazz was quicker than him to answer.
"Yeah… I used t'think that. If you go sayin' that to Optimus he'll jus' do it to ya again until you start feelin' that higher consciousness leakin' through the matrix. It's… you kinda gotta feel it to understand. Primus doesn't actually give a single slag about our ranks and caste systems, they don't even factor."
Sideswipe gazed at Jazz with a groggy sort of confusion, until Sunstreaker's own confused face smoothed with some kind of realisation. Sideswipe turned to him, the two clearly having an exchange across the bond before they looked to Jazz again.
"So we're all just sparks, regardless? Right? So long as we're sentient, we're recognised? We're not… being punished for anything?" Sunstreaker spoke with an almost hopeful tone.
Jazz nodded, "Yeah pretty much. But before y'ask- and yes I know you were about to, 'cause I also asked the first time… Primus don't control us, and they don't control fate. We don't suffer based on our merit or our worth, our sparks ain't weighed against each other, so if any bot tries to tell you that whatever's happened to ya in your life is your fault somehow, tell 'em to go slag themselves. Ain't a lick of truth in it."
A tension left the twin's frames that made it seem like they'd been bowing under a massive weight. But beneath them, Prowl's expression remained closed and unconvinced. Ratchet also noticed his optics flickering, struggling to focus.
"Alright, we can leave the rest of that particular theology discussion for later. Prowl you need more rest. Remember, if you feel any change in your condition, even a minor one, let someone know."
Prowl turned his tired gaze on the medic, nodding again with a hum of acknowledgement.
"Good. Now, I know I said you all need to keep an optic on him, but you don't have to be here all the time. You should start taking it in turns to stay so you can get out and stretch your legs. I recommend going to spend some time with the other wolfmechs in the accommodation wing, keep yourselves and them in the loop. That goes for you two as well." He nodded at the twins, who gave him identical surprised looks.
"But… no. There's no way we're going further than the washracks here, we can't- "
Ratchet held up a hand placatingly, and Sunstreaker fell silent.
"I'm not saying you both have to leave at the same time, in fact to begin with I recommend you take turns. But it's not healthy for either of you to spend all of your time here. And your own sparks will have a better time supporting your carrier if they have some time to recuperate. The strain of supporting an injured spark through a bond is high, especially a creation bond given the nature of it. If you don't take time to recuperate your own sparks, you'll start to negatively affect his recovery."
That information made the twins baulk, both suddenly nodding their compliance with his request. Ratchet gave them a lopsided grin. "I don't doubt many of the other wolfmechs will try to mob you when you show up, so you might want to call Hound for an escort to give you something of a buffer. He'd be more than happy, I swear he's adopted the lot of you the way he's been pestering me about you lot."
"He's a good bot… please thank him for me"
Prowl's words were extremely quiet, the bot clearly half offline already.
Jazz just grinned softly beside him, putting a servo on his chestplates and ever so gently pulsing his magnetics. "Yeah mech, we will. Rest."
It was late when Jazz was roused. He'd stayed even when Optimus had left, organising a few more chairs to go around Prowl's berth so the rest of his pack could sit close by if they wanted. The twins had ended up going back to the berth that had become theirs, exhausted by the effects of the bond.
Inferno and Trailbreaker had taken up the chairs by the foot of the bed and chatted for a while, Bumblebee falling into recharge at Prowl's side.
Jazz had drawn up the stool he'd brought over so he could sit next to Prowl, and had ended up dozing by the alpha's shoulder. He would have been there for cycles if FirstAid hadn't come over and gently poked him awake.
"Hey, uh, hi Jazz. Sorry, Ratchet told me to come and give Prowl some maintenance. Do you mind just moving up around near the head of the berth?"
"No, no problem, s'all good Aid." He murmured groggily, wheeling himself around to settle nearer Prowl's head, rubbing his face to clear the sleep lag.
He was a little surprised when he removed his servos and found FirstAid proffering a cube to him with a cheery tilt to his helm. "Ratchet said you probably forgot to fuel before you came and that you should drink this."
Jazz snorted, taking the cube with a murmured thanks and downing half in one go. "Ratch knows me way to slaggin' well at this point."
Inferno chuckled at that, he and Trailbreaker having turned their attention to the young medic when he came over. They didn't at all hide their curiosity around him, neither of them having considered the possibility that a wolfmech even COULD be a medic. Of course, the youngling vibes he gave off did a lot for their programming's interest, since the both of them were fairly broody at the best of times.
Before either of them could ask anything about where he'd come from, the sound of approaching, clawed pedes caught their attention.
"Ah… did I miss him being awake? Oh, slag. Hound told me I should have just come when he did. I suppose he was right."
"Hey Red. Got too stuck in ya work again huh?" Jazz gave him a groggy half-grin as he pet Prowl's helm gently, the bot not even stirring. On the berth to his left though, he noticed twitching plating that told him the twins weren't recharging anymore.
RedAlert sighed, wandering over to stand by Inferno, brushing their plating in greeting. "Mmmm. There's a lot to get done, I've been looking at how we're going to give everyone access to the grid- oop!"
RedAlert's faceplates nearly matched his paint when Inferno slid his arms around the smaller bot's waist and dragged him to sit in his lap. Tellingly though, Red didn't object, and his tail could be heard thumping against Inferno's armour.
Trailbreaker snorted. "Very smooth 'Ferno."
"Wasssthegrid?"
Sideswipe's voice was barely intelligible, but RedAlert seemed to understand him just fine.
"It's the digital network that regular cybertronians use for everything they can't do physically. I've been getting acquainted with it ever since Jazz freed me, and let me tell you… it's BIG. And complex. And terrifying if you've never used anything like it before, so everyone's only going to get non-immersive access to start with."
Sunstreaker rolled over and stretched, practically on top of Sideswipe, his brother grumbling and batting at him. "What's non-immersive access entail?"
RedAlert settled against Inferno a little more comfortably before explaining. "There's three levels of access to the grid. Non-immersive, Partial-immersive and Full-immersive. Usually it's abbreviated to N.I, P.I and F.I. N.I is just console access, browsing via a terminal the same way you would most data. P.I is plugging into the terminal, and being able to experience a sort of… virtual view of the grid without being IN it. F.I, I've not tried yet. Jazz says a lot of mechs don't even bother with it, it can be disorientating, it's basically full virtual reality, you enter the grid system as an avatar and move through it like it was a physical space, but it doesn't adhere to the same physics and laws as physical space. Honestly just thinking about it gives me a bit of a processor ache."
By the time he was done explaining, both twins were peering at him with great interest.
"Well, I mean, I HAVE to try that full immersion thing. Jazz, how long before I can try the full immersion thing?" Sideswipe looked over at him keenly.
Jazz snorted, helm resting on his arm. "Trust me Sides, even if you were ready for the grid, it ain't ready for you yet. Take some pity on the rest of Cybertron and give it some time, I'm sure you'll get the hang quick but y'gotta start small. Ah don't wanna have grid admin up my aft cause ya crash the servers somehow".
Sideswipe pouted and mirred, giving Jazz the big, pleading optics. Jazz just chuckled softly. "Sorry Sides, ain't gonna work on me. Trust me, goin' slow is for the best. The Grid is a nightmare if you've never been on it before. And you KNOW Prowl would have my aft if I let you traumatise y'selves."
"NO fun allowed, is all I'm hearing. Where's the freedom Jazz? Where is it?" Sunstreaker said airily, his tone obviously facetious.
"Sorry mech, jus' the same restrictions everyone else gets. Don't worry, y'won't be restricted as long as sparklings usually are, y'old enough n pretty enough to pick it up quick, you'll be diving deeper as soon as you learn how to do it safely. Also we gotta give you proper firewalls first."
"Yes, And I'm still working on those." RedAlert sighed, tail still klinking against Inferno's armour as the bigger bot pet at his hip.
"Oh, hey, Aid, you don't have to do that, we can handle that stuff-"
Trailbreaker piped up, looking ready to get up and take the cloth from the smaller bot's servo as he started wiping down Prowl's plating.
"Oh, I know you normally would, but please sit. It's not just normal cleaning it's specialised detergent. Plus I'm doing the usual checks, I've done it more times than I can remember, on all of you actually." Aid explained, a reassuring flare of his field having Trailbreaker settle back in his chair, even if he looked concerned.
"Oh… wait… what?"
"Ah, you didn't hear about?… I was Shockwave's medical assistant. Jazz, Mirage and Hound got me and my siblings out of his labs. Y'know, the ones you were always taken to for maintenance- although actually you probably DON'T know since you had a sedation order on your whole pack… anyway, yes, I know you, but you won't know me. I've done this pre and post op for almost every Wolfmech who's here."
"Oh… wait, what ARE the usual checks pre and post op?" Inferno asked curiously, noticing that FirstAid was sliding his digits carefully between armour plates before following with his cleaning tools, which were doused in the solution he'd spoken of.
"Making sure you're clear of things like rust infections, rust mites, lead scale, fire scale, all those sorts of things. The solution clears away any rust spores or mite nanites and provides protection against them."
"I didn't realised we were super susceptible to any of those things? Do you often find anything?" Sunstreaker asked, genuinely surprised.
"Oh yes definitely. The worst case I ever saw, some bot brought in their singular wolfmech. I have no idea who the poor bot was, he was absolutely COVERED in rust mange, the mites had gotten in deep, there was a LOT of corrosion damage, AND he was severely malnourished. His vocaliser wasn't even working anymore and he couldn't transform, I had to perform the biggest, fastest overhaul on him I've ever done. I didn't even get time to try and match him to the database when I was done, we were so busy that Shockwave just had me fix him up and send him back with strict instructions he actually be FED. The moron who'd bought him wasn't a noble, and he thought he could just let him hunt his own food and that was it! Can you believe that? I don't know if I've ever been angrier at another bot than I was then. Took Hotspot a LONG TIME to calm me down."
"Can… can we not actually just survive on hunting alone?" Sideswipe asked quietly, as if worried he'd be admonished for not knowing.
FirstAid glanced up at him with some surprise, but his tone was light. "Oh primus no, we don't have the same metabolisms as true cyberwolves. We don't even have anything like their natural resistance to pests and diseases, we're… well… we're bots with some wolf code, we need what normal cybertronians need. Decent energon first and foremost and a good hygiene routine. Ah, speaking of the energon bit…"
FirstAid's servos slowed in their work as he tilted his helm and got a far-off look for a few moments. "Good, Groove is on her way up. I'm going to get her to assess all your mineral requirements. I shouldn't be surprised you don't know about the dietary thing, you're all malnourished to a degree as well."
"We are?" Inferno blinked at Aid, then up at Red. "But… my plating was shiny enough to woo Red, and I feel fine-"
"You shut-"
Inferno giggled as RedAlert squirmed in his lap and bapped him on the helm, face heating up again.
FirstAid snorted, carefully shifting the still recharging Bumblebee to get at Prowl's side before shrugging and starting to clean Bee as well. "You feel 'fine' because you've been malnourished so long you don't actually have a good baseline for proper nourishment anymore. And trust me, I'm pretty slagged off about the fact it was deliberate, and I knew about it for a LONG time and couldn't DO anything. You have no idea how incessant medic's coding is about this kind of stuff."
"So… how exactly was that fraglord keeping us malnourished? I always thought he just gave us bland tasting energon to keep us in our place." Sunstreaker murmured, him and Sideswipe both frowning in displeasure at the revelation.
"Well, you were given just enough to keep your performances adequate, and then you were pushed to make the most of whatever you were given. Your systems have been altered by the long term denial of high-energy fuel, so you can do a lot on very little, but it runs your systems on the knife edge of safety parameters. It wasn't done to punish you… it was done to control you. Bots fed on poor energon with just enough minerals to do what they're required to do don't have excess energy or mineral resources to use on things like formulating escape plans and staging break-outs… or planning elaborate attacks on their jailers." Aid explained almost matter-of-factly.
The twins now wore identical looks of shock, glancing at one another and then to Inferno and Trailbreaker, who were also entirely caught off guard.
"…So he… he EXPECTED us to try and run off so he kept us under control by feeding us slag?" Sunstreaker sounded affronted, but internally he couldn't say he was surprised. Really it just made him wish even more that he'd had the chance to rip out Thunderwing's throat.
"Preeeetty much. Which is why Groove is here to get a read on what minerals you're most deficient in, so I can put together some cubes tailored to your needs." Aid nodded at the privacy screen, and a moment later a wolfmech no bigger than Bumblebee trotted around it and wandered over to Aid's side, putting her forepaws up on the side of the berth.
"Hi! That's me!"
The twins didn't even have to look at Inferno and Trailbreaker to know the expressions they'd find there.
"Ah, so you're one of Aid's siblings?" Inferno asked, trying not to sound too excited and failing. If Groove noticed, she didn't make it obvious.
"Yep! I have a whoooole bunch of inbuilt sensors to find out mineral content and I can do geo-scans too! It's WAY more interesting doing it here than in the lab. Most of the time I was just having to lick rocks and spit out energon percentage readings."
Trailbreaker tilted his helm. "You lick rocks to find out how much energon is in them?"
"Yeah I lick everything to find out what it's made of, that's where my sensors are concentrated."
Sideswipe blinked at the smaller wolfmech. "Did… did Shockwave install it like that for a reason?"
"Oh Shockwave didn't install it, it's not a mod, I came out like that. That's what Aid says anyway, couldn't find a trace of Shockwave's usual modifications on those sensors, they're aaall natural." Groove's tail wagged serenely as she explained.
"So it's a Sigma ability?"
FirstAid actually jumped slightly when Bumblebee spoke up, not having realised he'd woken up. "SLAG your systems are quiet… sorry I woke you Bee, I just needed to get at all of Prowl's plating and thought I might as well give you a check over too since you're here."
Bee gave him a mildly amused look. "It's fine, sorry."
"To answer your question… yyyyesss? We think so? Shockwave never confirmed, and we don't know a lot about sigma abilities but it might be?" Groove shrugged her hackles. "Here, want me to find out your deficiencies?"
Bumblebee, still looking mildly amused, reached out an arm to the other small wolfmech. Groove hopped up onto the berth and stretched out her neck, drawing a long, slow lick up Bee's arm before retracting her glossa. She paused a moment before taking another smaller lick and blinked.
"Oh you need a lot more silicone and magnesium, some carbon and lithium too, and gold. Definitely need some gold in there. But you also need a frame upgrade, and you're gonna be put on really mineral dense supplements for that anyway."
Bee's orbital ridges shot up, and he gave Groove a very impressed look. "You found out all that just from licking me?"
Groove shrugged her hackles again. "Well, the mineral bits, Aid just told me you'd be needing a frame upgrade, I can't tell with that stuff I'm not actually a medic."
"Do me next!" Sideswipe quipped, holding an arm out over the side of the berth.
Groove hopped over Prowl's legs and off the berth to reach him, giving his arm the same sort of lick as she had Bumblebee's. "Mmmm. Same, you need a lot of the processor specific minerals, but also a LOT more carbon and titanium. Like, a LOT. Your armour is sitting two grades lower than it's supposed to be, if you were properly fed you'd be maybe two grades lower than the Prime's armour and that stuff is REALLY tough."
Sunstreaker flopped over Sideswipe, making him whuff and growl, batting at his brother again who ignored him. The golden twin held his arm out, grinning with an intrigued light in his optics. "Seriously? You telling me that when we're fed up properly we're going to be able to shrug off hits from cogboars and stuff?"
FirstAid made a tutting noise as Groove licked Sunstreaker's arm a little more than she had Sideswipe's, mirring slightly before pulling back. "That polish doesn't taste great, but I do like how shiny it makes you. Also yeah your armour is the same, but you need less iron than your brother. I'm guessing he had to do more running around at that event?"
"Yeah, Sunny won the aesthetics, I had to do the athletics." Sideswipe snickered. "Bit of extra running, not much."
"I did way more athletics than you" Bee murmured from the berth.
"Well, it was enough to make your nanites use up more iron stocks to repair stress areas in your protoform." Groove explained, trotting over to Trailbreaker and licking the proffered arm.
Trailbreaker tried very hard not to giggle or pull away, his forearms a bit more sensitive than the rest of them.
"Oh, WOW, have you been shorted on energon recently? You need SO MUCH of the heavy metals, more than you do the refined ones."
Trailbreaker's expression turned more solemn, as did Inferno's beside him. "Ah… yeah that was… I was giving more of my rations to Prowl for the… for the bitlets." He murmured.
The atmosphere of the group sobered extremely fast with that revelation. RedAlert reached out to put a servo on Trailbreaker's shoulder.
Groove looked stricken. "Oh… I'm sorry-"
"No, don't be, please. It's not your fault." Trailbreaker reached out and gave Groove a reassuring scritch on the neck. The smaller bot leant into the touch, not used to such attention from other wolfmechs but finding very suddenly that she liked it immensely.
Aid made a small grumbling noise where he was still working his way over Prowl's frame. "I cannot slagging BELIEVE he was cruel enough not to provide enough extra energon for a bot who was carrying. Primus knows he had Prowl bear enough sparklings in the past he SHOULD have known BETTER."
"He did give him extra, just… not enough extra." Trailbreaker sighed, not objecting in the least as Groove climbed up onto his lap, leaning even more into the petting.
"Yes, but… exactly! Why short him! Why short ANY of you when he was ALREADY feeding you garbage, it just... it BOILS my coolant!" Aid huffed.
As Aid spoke, Groove reached across the gap from Trailbreaker's lap and licked Inferno's arm before pausing and licking RedAlert as well.
"Hmm. You were giving him some energon too I guess? You need the same stuff as Trailbreaker but you're not AS low. Red you just need some more magnesium but you're pretty good actually."
"Mmm. Shame, I'm not really a fan of the taste, but thankyou Groove." Red couldn't help but quirk a small smile as Inferno started petting Groove as well. The smaller bot soon became a melted, purring puddle on Trailbreaker's lap.
FirstAid made a small, odd noise and stopped what he was doing. "Groove… I can't work when you project that, c'mon, at least finish your job, you haven't done Prowl's levels."
Sunstreaker chuckled as Groove reluctantly stepped off Trailbreaker's lap and back onto Prowl's berth, licking his shin armour. "'Breaker and Inferno give the best pets, it's a hard ask."
Groove nodded fervently as she squinted while her sensors finished up their readings. "Mmmmmm he needs a lot of everything. His systems were probably already being pushed from carrying, but the running around stuff probably didn't help. He is particularly deficient in processor supporting minerals. He could do with straight up chewing on a gold bar and some silicon chips."
As if hearing the diagnosis, Prowl's systems cycled up sluggishly and the golden optics lit up dimly.
"I don't… think I remember what gold even tastes like" he murmured, vocaliser crackly with static.
Jazz, who had fallen into a light doze with a servo on Prowl's helm, perked up immediately, stroking along the white crest. "Heeey Prowl. Don't worry, I'll get you some of the goodies from the kitchens here. They make the best gold and silicon jellies."
"Actually yes, suspension in a gel medium will deliver the minerals faster, that's a good idea Jazz" FirstAid nodded, hands not having faltered at all.
RedAlert slipped off Inferno's lap to wander up on Prowl's left, drawing the alpha's attention. "Hello Prowl… didn't think I'd get to catch you awake."
Prowl's field reached out weakly to brush with Red's, genuinely glad to see another familiar face. "Hello… you came out from your injuries alright?"
"Oh yes, Ratchet had me patched up in no time, I just couldn't go anywhere until my gyros got used to the new hackles. I looked a right idiot staggering around before they were done."
Prowl gave a soft chuff of amusement at that, but his expression was carefully stony, field betraying the pain he was trying to hide. RedAlert didn't call it out, instead simply putting a servo on the alpha's shoulder and giving him an understanding look.
"This is nice, y'know. We've never really been able to hang out with bots outside our gestalt like this before." Groove had already hopped back into Trailbreaker's lap, the larger bot automatically resuming petting.
Prowl blinked, glancing over and realising he didn't actually recognise the field of the bot who spoke, or the one currently wiping down his frame. He could barely actually feel the frame work, which didn't help with the dissociation. "I'm sorry… I don't… think we've met?"
"Oh, sorry Prowl ah shoulda thought to do introductions," Jazz stood so Prowl could better see him, gesturing to the two bots. "This is FirstAid, and that's Groove. They're two o' the five sibling bots we got outta Shockwave's lab. I think ah mentioned them to you briefly, but not by name."
Something seemed to click, Prowl's wings twitching and optics brightening slightly. "Oh… yes, in the stables when… you did yes. Hello."
FirstAid gave him a kind look and pulsed his field in greeting. "It was very weird, having some strangers bust into our containment cells and then super-spy extract us. It was exciting, in a sort of awful way. But it's MUCH nicer on the outside. Ratchet is also a much better teacher, he's already shown me how to throw wrenches at bots that are mostly okay but won't behave."
"That doesn't sound very professional of him" RedAlert murmured with a slightly worried frown.
"Oh no, it's MUCH more humane than the things Shockwave had me doing!" FirstAid replied cheerily. That only made Red Alert's frown deepen.
"If you like hanging around with us you're more than welcome to, any time. We've been cut off from most other packs for so long, it feels like a treat every time another new bot comes along to be honest." Trailbreaker rumbled, Groove now flopped completely over his legs, mirring contentedly.
"Aiiiid did you hear that? They said we can keep theeem!"
Aid snorted softly, turning his visor back to Prowl. "Well, technically it's your call, being the Alpha. Do we have permission to adopt you?"
Prowl blinked, optic ridges twitching up slightly. "Considering your youth… I feel like we're the ones who would be doing the adopting… though honestly, I'm not… sure that packs will continue to be a thing for much longer. It may become a moot point."
That had Red and Aid both looking at him with mild confusion.
"Wh- hangon… you're saying you think the packs will all just… dissolve? And we'll be exactly like regular mechs?" RedAlert cocked his helm, the concept clearly not having occurred to him until Prowl mentioned it.
Prowl made a soft sound of disagreement. "No, not really… but I think the current ones will change… bots are free to roam now, they can pick who they want to be with. There's no one forcing individuals together. Alphas may change or become unnecessary."
"You realise that- oh, wait, no you wouldn't, you haven't been… well, most of the other alphas here still consider you the leader, Prowl. I don't think any of them have actually thought far enough ahead to consider that point, they'll probably want to come and discuss it with you when you're well enough." Red explained gently.
Prowl frowned slightly at that. "No, that… I was only meant to lead for the event, I'm not… I'm not the ambassador of our caste, we'd need a proper vote for that, not just an alpha nomination made under duress."
"I dunno Prowl… ah get the feelin' they're all keen for ya to carry on when you're well enough. N' honestly, ah think ya right about the culture shift. Be kinda interesting to watch up close, but ah don't think you'll lose alphas. Think the pack as a concept will jus' get bigger and maybe more family oriented" Jazz said softly, still stroking his helm.
Prowl went quiet, clearly contemplating Red's revelation and Jazz's theory.
RedAlert gave him a fond sort of smile. "They're all still anxious as pit about you, I know that much. I've had Chromia ask me five or six times now when she can come visit. I did tell her any time, but she insists on talking to you, which, y'know… had to wait until you were well enough to be awake. She's not going to be pleased I talked to you and didn't call her, but I figured you could use a little more time to rest before dealing with more bots."
Prowl made a noise of agreement, face twitching at the same time the twins gave stifled hisses of pain.
"Mmm, yes, I'd tell them to ask in with us first before trying to visit. Apart from the fact he needs a lot of stasis time, we don't want to crowd him. There needs to be a limit on the amount of bots coming to see him that aren't pack or pack affiliated." Aid explained gently, finishing up his maintenance and beckoning Bumblebee to sit on the edge of the berth nearest him.
Jazz rubbed behind Prowl's audials soothingly, sitting back down on his stool and wheeling around to where Prowl could more easily see him. The golden optics followed his movements.
"I don't suppose all the alphas will change… bots who are already suitable leaders are who the others will look to for leadership."
"Yeah. And the leaders are lookin' to you for their guidance. I mean, y'sure as slag proved yourself." Jazz grinned, smoothing an audial.
Prowl didn't comment on that, helm shifting slightly into the contact as he glanced down at Bumblebee, who seemed rather relaxed by his clean and check-up. He couldn't see any hint of injuries, which was a relief. But it did remind him of something.
"Jazz… is your sister alright? Where is she?"
That had Jazz's face falling slightly, the silver and white mech letting out a heavy sigh.
"Wish ah could tell ya. I KNOW she's nearby… c'n feel that much. Beyond that, she's got me blocked."
Prowl frowned slightly. "But... her injuries?"
"Oh, she'll have patched herself. One o' the pilots here reported a ransacking on his shuttle, medkit got taken, that woulda been her. The idiot might end up passed out if the damage is too much, at which point Optimus will do to her what he did to me." A grin split Jazz's face at that, which confused Prowl even more.
"Dare I ask?"
"Ah mean, I got slagged up by a drug lord in Rodion pretty good. Passed out under a bridge, woke up locked in a room with Ratchet. Rest is history."
"Oh… so you think Optimus will find her and lock her up in here?"
Jazz chuckled at that. "Lock her in an ISO room here, yeah. Ain't leavin' her to climb the walls in here, she might do damage to you or somebot else flippin' her lid. But if Ratch managed to get my feral aft under control, he can do it to her too."
Prowl made a soft noise of amusement at that.
"Hard to imagine you going feral like a klikat to be honest" Sideswipe quipped, having traded places with Sunstreaker so he was now the one sprawled over his disgruntled twin.
Jazz tilted his helm at the red bot. "I dunno… Hound would tell ya otherwise. Went a bit feral durin' that pairs hunt. Lotta knives got thrown."
"You threw knives at Ratchet?" Sunstreaker asked, voice slightly muffled by Sideswipe's arm.
"Yeah, but to be fair, he deflected them with wrenches and then threw the WRENCHES at me. AND he's got slaggin' accurate aim."
Prowl let their voices wash over him, darkness pulling at the edges of his vision again. This time he didn't willingly fall back into it. He wanted this… wanted the comfort of other fields, familiar and new, wanted to hear what had been happening, be a part of the conversation… but another aching pulse of his spark muted his sensors once more. He would have to be patient even as frustrating as it was.
At least he knew they were all there, waiting patiently with him.