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The Autobot Files

File #014 - Incomplete

Ratchet tried hard to concentrate. He was working on Cliffjumper's shoulder joint. It was a delicate process and the fact that his patient was one of the smallest Autobots was not making the situation easier. So it really didn't help that he could feel a presence hovering over him the entire time.

"Is this a really pressing matter, Smokescreen?" Ratchet said without looking up. "Because I'm busy right now and I don't need someone looming over my shoulder the entire time."

"I just had a quick question," the blue Datsun responded, ignoring the request to wait his turn. "I've noticed that Prowl's had...a high aversion to me lately."

"That's cuz he doesn't like you, Smokescreen," Cliffjumper smirked at him. "I thought you would have noticed by now."

"Well yeah, but we always got along on a professional level. Prowl doesn't let anything personal interfere with his job. But lately I've noticed he's been getting angrier at me. Like he's..." Smokescreen rubbed the back of his helmet. "Holding a grudge."

Ratchet spared him a glance. "Is he?"

Smokescreen looked away, the very picture of guilt.

By then, Cliffjumper's procedure was finished and Ratchet sent him on his way. Then the medic sat himself down to give Smokescreen is full attention.

"So what exactly is your question for me?"

Smokescreen shifted. "I was just wondering—Prowl's battle computer—has he had any problems with it lately?"

"It's been on the fritz. It's going to go completely offline eventually."

Smokescreen actually balked at the news. "Can't you fix it, Doc?"

"I told Prowl I wasn't going to. He doesn't need it."

"I see."

Was it just Ratchet's imagination, or did Smokescreen look worried?

The blue Datsun shrugged it of and replaced it with his usual cheeky grin. "Well, just get the med bay ready in case they have to carry me through the door in pieces."

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "May I suggest staying out of his way and behaving yourself?"

Smokescreen had the good sense to look chastised. "I'll give it a try. But no promises."

"Just try it for a little while. The battle computer gradually breaking down which gives Prowl a chance to slowly get used to not having it. But it's still going to be hard for him for a while when it does."

Smokescreen looked a little smaller as he moved to leave the room. "Thanks, Doc. I'll keep that in mind."


.

Prowl woke up from recharge in confusion. The berth didn't look familiar to him. It was a different, newer style than he was used to. For a moment, he panicked. What if someone was playing a prank on him? What if he had been injured and dragged to some strange med bay? What if he had been captured by enemies?

It would take a few moments, but then Prowl remembered and everything would fell into place. The recharge berths weren't new. In fact, they were old designs themselves by now. And he wasn't on Cybertron, he was on Earth. It was a strange feeling to wake up in the past and then have the present rush in on you. But that was what he had been doing for several weeks now.

Prowl lifted the lid of the berth and sat up, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as if it would help his thoughts and memories find a proper merger. It was the battle computer's fault. Week by week it was failing a little bit more in doing the job it had done for a very long time. All the old memories it had been blocking were slowly leaking out. Memories that his processor was not used to remembering. It was having a hard time trying to figure out where to file them. Hence, during recharge, they would run through his mind as if he had just lived them and when he would wake, he felt stuck back in that time. He would give it a few minutes and then his filing system would put everything in the right chronological order and he could continue the day in the present without too much distraction from past memories.

The emotions connected to those memories, however, were harder to deal with. Despite what some may have thought of him, Prowl had never lived without emotions. Even with his battle computer at full strength. What the device allowed him to do was stand apart from them so he could control them instead of the other way around. He could feel anything from joy to anger just as much as the next Autobot, but his computer allowed him to identify the emotion and decide whether it should be put away or experienced.

At first, he used it to block the traumatic emotions just so he could function. Then, he used it to block out the inconvenient emotions as well such as worry, irritation, and doubt. Then, it was just so much easier to block them all out. With his computer automatically filing them all away, it was easier to work without distraction. Soon it came to the point where he had to make a conscious decision to feel if he wanted to emotionally react to something. This worked for him for many, many years.

But it couldn't last forever. Emotions were leaking out randomly now. Some connected with past memories, some responses to present events. So far he was still staying on top of it. When one would surface for what seemed like no reason, Prowl would stop and analyze it. If it was a past emotion, he would put it in his memory banks where it belonged. If it was related to what was going on around him, he would deal with it the best he could. He was controlling it, but just barely. He kept telling himself, as long as the battle computer continued at this speed, he would be able to handle it.

He slid off the berth and readied himself for another day. As Prowl stepped purposefully out of the recharge room, he almost ran right into a smaller figure walking by.

"Oh, Prowl!" Crystal put on the breaks just in time, clutching the supplies she had in her arms tightly to her chest. Their bodies had touched, but not enough to collide with each other and, no doubt, send Crystal's smaller form to the ground. "Excuse me, I wasn't paying attention."

"I also should have been more aware," Prowl said. He caught himself staring at her and remaining near her. He quickly side stepped and looked away.

Crystal was both the easiest and the hardest thing about his ordeal with the battle computer. Her presence simplified his time confusion. Because unlike everyone else at the Ark, she was not in his life before he left Cybertron. Seeing her kept him grounded in the present. If she was there, it felt like everything would be fine and the phantoms of his past had no grasp on him while he was in the here and now.

To see Crystal first thing after recharge, however, was very difficult. He still had not organized and shelved all his wandering emotions from their rampant excursions during his recharge. And to his dismay, he had already trained his programming to close down the emotion inhibitor when he saw her.

It was a practice that stemmed from the very first time he met her. A human Crystal had bent down and looked his smaller form in the face and expected nothing to be held back from her. That was the price of her loyalty and her affection, and Prowl had no choice but to pay it. With his small size and his comrades missing, he needed her more than he wanted to admit. So he gave of himself when she asked for it and could not hold back when she looked at him like she expected nothing less.

When he was his own size again, she didn't look at him any different. When she spoke to him so open and bluntly, he could do nothing but respond in kind. It was the same when she was given her robot body. She still looked at him the same and he had no choice but to continue to drop his inhibitors and face whatever he was feeling when he was with her.

Programs learn over time when used routinely. It got to the point where the inhibitor shut down at the mere sight of her. When he realized this, Prowl thought it a step in the right direction as far as Crystal was concerned. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly shut her out after making her go through so much. So he made no steps to correct the behavior.

Now he was paying for it. To see her while he was still trying to get a handle on himself opened the flood gates at full force. For a while, he had a hard time just seeing in front of him.

"Prowl?" Crystal touched him on the arm and was surprised when he actually jumped at the contact. "What's the matter? And don't tell me it's nothing."

There she went again, asking and looking at him like he better not hold back on her.

Prowl looked away again, glancing back to the recharge berths. "It's hard to explain."

"Bad dreams?" Crystal guessed.

Prowl was about to say no, but it wasn't quite out of the ball park.

"In a way."

Whatever was in her arms went to the floor. It wasn't as important as he was. She stood on her toes and hugged him around the neck.

"You'll figure it out, I know you will."

Prowl was about to gently protest and pull away, but he experienced something surprising. Her embraced stopped it all. She hugged him and the emotional turmoil quieted and fell away. All that was left was peace. It was a relief to feel that serenity inside him and he just stood there, too stupefied to move.

Crystal pulled back, hands still on his shoulders. "You know you can always come see me if you're having trouble with nightmares." She smiled and then suddenly remembered. "Uh, not in THAT way, you know. But just, if you wanted to talk or something. I'm always around."

It had been one of many slip ups lately after Crystal realized her behavior around them had been grossly inappropriate sometimes. She was still getting used to treating them like what they were instead of some novel beings that just happened to be able to converse with her

The side of Prowl's mouth ticked up and he opened his mouth to say something. But the warning beep on his personal radio stopped all thoughts in their tracks.

"Decepticons," Prowl said as he looked at his communicator. "I have to go." He started quickly down the hall.

"Hey Prowl," Crystal called to him.

He paused and turned to look at her.

"Be careful, okay?" She directed two fingers to her optics. "Stay focused, alright?"

He smiled, nodded, and ran down the hall.


.

Once alone, Crystal gathered the discarded items she dropped on the floor. Prowl didn't have a chance to ask her about them. It was probably for the best. This was her project and she liked to do her projects alone.

It had been over a month since she had been caught writing on the walls in the artillery closet. Smokescreen and Wheeljack had spent time there with their experiments, practically pushing her out. More like Smokescreen pushed her out. She wouldn't have minded sharing space with Wheeljack. He would have made it fun. But as long as Smokescreen had interest in it, she stayed away.

With a lack of results and other things such as that concert for Red Alert's singer friend going on, he may have forgotten it by now. Hopefully Crystal would now get her turn at it again.

Poking her head into the area, she didn't see anyone around. As long as she could get inside without being spotted she would be safe to continue without being bothered. She tip-toed to the door, hoping the Dinobots wouldn't spot her. She loved them, but if they saw her she'd have to come back and try again another day.

Luckily, no one was about and she made it inside. Once the door was closed, she spread her arm load of odds and ends on the floor.

The door opened and Smokescreen stepped in.

"Oh, come ON!" Crystal barked at him. "Why can't you leave me alone? Don't you have to go fight Decepticons?"

Smokescreen grinned. "Not my shift for battle. I'm on stand by."

"Fine," she huffed as she gathered up her things again. "Have the room. Live in here for all I care. I'm sick of playing this game."

"No, wait. Wait, wait," Smokescreen insisted. He knelt next to her, trying to stop her from packing up. "I need you here."

"Oh you need me now, do you? Suddenly I'm not so useless?"

"Yeah," was all he said to that. "Look, I don't know why, but I can't get anything to happen by myself. I've sat in this room for hours and nothing. But apparently it won't shut up if you're in the room alone. Why is that?"

"I don't know. Maybe we have something in common?"

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

She looked him in the optics. "We both died once."

Smokescreen pressed his mouth in a firm line. "Okay, fine. So what's your plan?"

Crystal began organizing the supplies she brought. She set out two cards made of thin sheet metal with Cybertronian script on them. One card said 'yes' the other said 'no'. Then she picked up a crystal pendant she had tied to a string.

"As near as I can tell, the apparition is mostly residual. I can't see him, but the voice always comes from the same spot. And while he seems to react to my presence, the things he says are repeated over and over like a recording."

"So you're saying all those things he yelled at you..."

"May not have been at me. They were possibly just his last words repeated over and over. I'm going to see if I can break the cycle. I'll try to get his attention and see if there's any intelligence left in there."

Smokescreen was intrigued. "How do you know about this stuff?"

"My mother," she said with almost a sigh. "She had a very acute sixth sense about these things. She taught me some of the basic knowledge, but nothing too much. I'm afraid it wasn't something that interested me at the time so I didn't learn quite as much as I could have. Plus I never had that unique connection she had."

"Alright, well, let's see if this works!" Smokescreen was grinning in excitement now. His face looked younger. He looked a lot like Bluestreak just then.

Crystal's thoughts wandered back to what the grey Datsun once told her about Cybertronians and their aging process. Was it Smokescreen's tireless curiosity that kept him young after living for so long?

"Since you're here, I guess you can help me," Crystal admitted as she sat down and crossed her legs. "You know Cybertronian, I don't."

"I can do that." Smokescreen made himself comfortable next to her.

"Okay, when I say a question, I want you to translate it out loud for me, alright?"

"Can I ask any of my own?" Smokesreen asked. His door panels were quivering in excitement. He was suddenly like a little kid.

"If we can get a response, you can. But only yes or no questions for right now. The goal for today is to get the entity to respond directly to us. We may hear voices, but what I really want is for it to direct its energy through this crystal to indicate which card is the answer. Understand?"

Smokescreen nodded.

"Okay," Crystal held out her hand to him. "Let's join our energies to help draw it to us."

Smokescreen looked at her hand. He hesitated to touch her, but finally let her put her hand in his larger one.

"Now open yourself up. Shut off your optics if that helps. This spirit is lost, trapped in a loop. Consumed by its own last moments. We need to be a beacon, something bright to gain its attention. Something strong to help it focus its energies on us."

Smokescreen concentrated as much as he could. He really wanted this to work. He was dying to know.

"Is anyone here?" Crystal asked calmly. "Is there anyone here that wants to talk with us?"

Smokescreen was surprised she didn't raise her voice like she was calling out. He tried to mirror the tone as he translated each question into Cybertronian.

Crystal raised the pendant she had made over the "yes" card and let it dangle.

"If you are here, let us know of your presence. Concentrate on this crystal. Use it to amplify your power. Listen to my voice." She paused for a while to let the words sink in. "If you are there and you wish to communicate, let us know. Is there anyone there?"

She had her optics off during it all. Smokescreen did not. He stared intently at the crystal pendant, waiting for the slightest thing to happen. He wasn't really sure what to expect. Was it going to make noise? Glow? He was making sure he didn't miss a thing.

"Is there anyone in this room with us who wishes to communicate?" Crystal asked again.

Before Smokescreen could finish translating, the crystal pendant began to swing all on its own over the "yes" card. The blue Autobot was ecstatic. He tried to compose himself as Crystal stayed extremely collected. She grabbed the pendant to keep it still and then started again.

"Do you know who you are?"

When Smokescreen translated, Crystal moved the pendant slowly from the "No" card to the "yes" card. When it hovered over the "yes" card, it began to swing again. Crystal stilled it.

"Do you know where you are?"

She moved the pendant from card to card, but no answer came for either. Smokescreen looked at her questioningly. He didn't know what that meant.

"Maybe it's gone," Crystal suggested. "Let's try another question."

Smokescreen asked one in Cybertronian before Crystal could say anything. The pendant started swinging over the "yes" card.

"What did you ask?"

"If he was a Decepticon," Smokescreen responded gravely.

"Looks like you called it."

"Looks like. So how do I figure out what he's still doing here? There's gotta be a reason his spark hasn't gone back to the matrix yet."

Crystal smirked at him. "Is that what's been getting your chips in a twist over this? You just want to know what he's doing here?"

Smokescreen shrugged and smiled. "I like knowing the answers. It's what I do."

"I see. To get that answer we may have to try a different approach unless you like 20 questions. But we need to do this in baby steps. The entity doesn't spend a lot of time living in the present. Ask him if he remembers what happened."

When it was asked, the pendant didn't stir. Then it started to go around in circles in between the two cards.

"I'll take that as a sort of," Crystal said. "Ask him if he knows that he's...dead, or offline, or whatever term you use."

Smokescreen asked as the pendant instantly started swinging over the yes card. The blue Autobot's optics lit up and he asked another question before Crystal could suggest anything. At being asked if the Decepticon still had a mission to fulfill, the answer was again, yes.

Smokescreen pulled back to meditate on that. What task could be so important that it kept the spirit of a Decepticon hanging around all this time? Maybe 20 questions were in order after all.


.

The Decepticons had been sneaky. Megatron sent his seekers to very publicly attack a hydroelectric plant near the coast while he and the rest of his followers very quietly ransacked a completely different one. Being Oregon's top resource for power, they were Megatron's favorite targets and to Optimus Prime's consternation, Megaton was getting better and better at stealing from them.

Prowl was the one who found the seeker's act suspicious and began to hone in on other Decepticon signatures at a different plant. Optimus left Jazz with a team to take care of the seekers while he and Prowl led the remaining Autobots to foil Megatron's plan at the other plant.

As it appeared on the horizon, it still looked in tact. Megatron wasn't as careless with such things as he as he had been during the first few years on Earth. He got out of the habit of leveling the fountains from which he drank when he had to start traveling further and further from the base for energy. Humans couldn't rebuild exploded power plants as quickly as Cybertronians could. It really put a strain on his resources to send his troops all over the planet when his immediate sources of energy were all gone without anyone to blame but himself.

It may have taken longer, but even Megatron learned to adapt to this planet and the culture of its life forms. The war on Cybertron was about power. Taking or spoiling the enemy's fuel while keeping what he could for his Decepticons. But here, destroying sources of power did not set back the Autobots at all. The world's governments donated it to them in a myriad of different ways. Megatron was only limiting his options by blowing up everything he could see.

Especially with his own army's resources dangerously low, Megatron was trodding carefully and getting sneakier about how he procured new energy. It made Prowl's job harder. At least that's what everyone else thought. To Prowl, it made the job more challenging and thus, more exciting.

Optimus Prime may have been the only one that could match Megatron blow for blow on the battlefield, but Prowl took a certain thrill at trying to guess each step of not only Megatron, but all who advised him. To out think the combined efforts of Megatron, Soundwave, and Starscream gave him a sense of personal satisfaction nothing else could match. And with his battle computer going down and his emotional inhibitions fading, Prowl was finding it exceptionally fulfilling that day as they neared the hydroelectric plant.

But as soon as they were in firing range, Megatron proved he also expected his plans to be found out. The entire Stunticon team came out of hiding and fired on the Autobots full force. The convoy scattered and swerved away from the fire.

"Well Prowl," Tracks said to him as he dodged the fire. "You got us here, now what?"

Everyone was taking cover where they could behind buildings or boulders or hills.

"There's more of us," Prowl reasoned. "With the Stunticons, we may just have to smash our way though. Mirage, sneak up on them from behind while we keep their attention from the front."

"On it," Mirage saluted before disappearing.

Prowl turned to his leader. "Do you mind having a few passengers? We're going to use Trailbreaker's force shield and you'll be the battering ram to get us in there."

Optimus Prime was definitely a peace loving Autobot, but he also seemed to have a certain sentiment towards brute force. He gave a thumbs up to his second.

"Sounds like a plan to me!"


.

Figuratively, Smokescreen was on the edge of his seat. He never experienced something like this before. Communication with a spark who's body had gone offline millions of years ago. Though the conversation had gone slow with the limit of only yes or no questions he was still refusing to give up.

"So this mission you had, was it important?" he asked to the silent room.

The pendant indicated yes.

"Worth even putting aside returning to the Matrix for?"

Yes.

"What kind of mission is worth that much?"

No response.

"He's got no way to answer that," Crystal reminded him.

"Right, right. I forgot." Smokescreen sat back and pondered over his next questions. "So...you know that you've been here for millions of years, right? So this mission you went on, it's got to be obsolete by now."

It wasn't quite a question, but the answer was a definitive "No".

"So this mission you can't let go of, still has validity in this time?"

Yes.

Smokescreen's face grew grave. "Will this mission cause the Decepticons to win the war?"

There was no response.

"Can this guy lie to us?" Smokescreen asked Crystal in a whisper. Then he felt stupid, acting like he was trying to stop a spirit from hearing him.

She shrugged in return. "My experience has been the spirit is prompted to answer the question as long as they know or feel strongly about the answer. When you don't get at answer, it usually means the spirit has either left or they don't know how to answer. Try wording it differently."

"Okay, uh...if you were to finish your mission, would it devastate the Autobot forces?"

Still no response.

"Maybe he left?"

"He's still here," Crystal insisted as she held the pendant in her hand. "I can feel it. He's waiting for you to ask the right question."

"Okay..." Smokescreen rubbed his palms together as he tried to think.

"Ask him if his mission is related to something that hasn't happened yet," Crystal suggested.

Smokescreen asked. The answer was yes.

"Something that hasn't happened yet..." the blue Autobot scratched his chin as he went through his many, many millennium of gathered information.

"Ask him if he's trying to prevent something bad from happening," Crystal said in a serious tone.

The answer was yes.

Smokescreen frowned. "Is something bad going to happen to Cybertron?"

The pendant was still for a moment. Then a chill filled the room as the pendant indicated "Yes".


.

The battle was in full force now. Prowl's plan had worked. With several Autobots hitching a ride to either side of Optimus Prime's trailer and Trailbreaker's force field, they made quite an efficient battering ram and managed to force their way past the Stunticon's initial front. But the gestalt team didn't seem to be too disheartened about it. In fact, their spirits lifted at the chance for a full contact melee.

The biggest problem was they all had their own personal force shields which made them, when they were in car mode, practically invincible when they crashed into something. And crashing head long into Autobots was one of their favorite past times.

Though the Autobots were quite sturdy themselves, such a physically taxing onslaught was taking its toll. Optimus Prime had tried to lead his troops to force their way all the way through to the plant, but Motor Master now had the Autobot leader occupied. That left Prowl to figure a better way of tackling the remaining Stunticons.

Their alt mode force fields were quite a hassle, but certain energy weapons could pierce what physical force could not. And the Stunticons couldn't shoot back unless they were root mode. Prowl took full advantage of this fact. He quickly organized his Autobots, putting those with proper energy weapons on the front lines to pierce the force shields and those without on the back lines to take shots when the Stunticons transformed to fight back.

Progress was slow, but present. The Autobots were slowly pushing forward, hopefully before Megatron and whomever else he had in the plant could get away with too much. Prowl had been so preoccupied with the aggressive Stunticons, he had completely forgotten there was one who wasn't as frantically addicted to violence, but still just as deadly. He was reminded of that fact seconds too late. The black and white Autobot didn't even see it coming. All he felt was something collide with his back, then a rush of information and then everything shut down.


.

Dead End observed the battle before him with a certain bleakness that was unique only to him. Why his brothers fought so foolhardy and full of zeal was beyond him. They would all end up in the scrap heap one day anyway. What was the point of trying to race each other there?

"Hey, Wheels, whatcha doing?" Rumble asked as he approached the melancholy Decepticon. Soundwave had sent him and Frenzy out to join the fray while they finished loading the energon cubes into Astrotrain.

"This ain't no tea party. If you ain't gonna fight, then why the slag we bring ya?"

"C'mon, Frenzy. Let him mope," Rumble tugged at his brother. "We got cans ta kick!"

Dead End watched the two cassettes run off to the battle and heaved a long suffering sigh.

"Might as well do something I suppose," he told himself. "Drove out here and all."

He raised his weapon and aimed for the first thing that caught his optics. Unfortunately for the poor Autobot in his sights, Dead End's calm demeanor gave him dead aim. He pulled the trigger once and he did not miss. The white and black Autobot never saw it coming. The shot went right through his back and he was down.


.

Smokescreen was crouched and concentrating. His optics never left the pendant as it almost seemed to glow with an unnatural light.

"Is there anyway," he said lowly. "That you can tell me–show me– what would it mean if you could not prevent this thing from happening?"

The pendant almost seemed to shiver in Crystal's hand. Then it began to spin. Faster and faster until it was just a blur, it flew from Crystal's hand and shattered against the wall. The two living beings in the room stared at it, optics wide.

"That definitely looks like this guy thinks something bad is going to happen," Smokescreen quipped.

Crystal didn't say anything. She couldn't shake the feeling that something bad had happened already.


.

The klaxon had sounded that the battle was over and the warriors were coming home with injured. During these occasions Crystal would be in the med bay if she could. She had left Smokescreen behind despite his instance to keep asking questions in the artillery closet. She just wasn't interested anymore. There were more important things to do now than talk to a ghost.

This time, the back of the medical bay had to be opened up. They were larger doors that led directly outside. This was necessary so Optimus Prime could back his trailer right in and whatever he was carrying within. The doors open and Crystal covered her mouth as Mirage and Bluestreak stepped out, Prowl's lifeless form dangling between them. He wasn't leaking fluids, but his optics were dark and there was no sign of life from the white and black Autobot.

He looked dead and it scared her. Even more so when they passed by and she saw the gaping hole in his back. She wanted to cry out, but Ratchet put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's probably not as bad as it looks," he told her with confidence. Then to the Autobots carrying his patient. "Hold him up. We're going to have to put him on his front. I've got to get some of that armor off so we can lay him down."

Bluestreak and Mirage did what they were told while Ratched grabbed some tools. He and Perceptor worked on removing the bulk of Prowl's front armor. Once most of the nose of his alt form had been removed from his chest, Ratchet looked inside.

"Looks like his spark chamber is in tact, lucky bot," Ratchet observed.

Every model was different. If Prowl had been designed with his spark chamber in the center of his chest, he would have been done for. But Prowl's design, as well as the other Datsuns, all had their chambers lower and to the left. Back in the Golden Age, all designs were the same with the spark chambers right in the middle of the chest. When the war broke out, that was where soldiers knew to attack each other to make a killing shot. In order to trick the enemy, designs began to change where the spark chamber was kept. This little trick definitely saved Prowl's life that day.

Crystal was still in shock, her hands over her mouth in fear as Prowl's body was hefted onto the examining table face down under Ratchet's direction. The medic then barked out orders for who could stay and who needed to leave his med bay before returning his attention back to his most serious patient.

He examined the large burn in the center of Prowl's back. It cut through the glass without shattering it. It was a very concentrated energy beam. That was actually a good thing. While it would sear completely through anything it hit, the damage would not scatter more than a Cybertronian-sized inch or two. Ratchet slid the glass out of its place so he could look deeper. He poked his fingers around, trying to figure out why Prowl was completely offline despite having his spark chamber unharmed.

"Ah ha!"

Crystal jumped when Ratchet announced his find. He smiled at her and beckoned her forward. "Here, come look at this."

As she inched forward, Ratchet reached in and pulled out a scorched piece of equipment. Crystal wasn't familiar with it. She still wasn't sure all was well.

"What's that?"

"This little beauty," Ratchet explained. "Is what remains of Prowl's old battle computer."

She stepped even closer, hands no longer on her mouth, but still hovering there. "Can we get him a new one?"

"He doesn't need it, actually. I've been trying to get him to agree to remove it for a while now."

Crystal wasn't convinced yet. "Then why is he just laying there? If he doesn't need it, what happened to him?"

Ratchet smiled and tossed her the piece of totaled equipment. She caught it clumsily, her system still in shock from her worry.

"These old time battle computers are a bit complex. Prowl wasn't created with it, he had it installed later in his life, which is why I know he doesn't need it to function. They're installed deep in the personality core and help regulate things like memories and emotions while boosting battle prowess. In order to safely remove and uninstall a program like this, a medic would need to shut down all processing systems before taking it out.

"What happened to Prowl here is that when his battle computer was hit, it went down while his systems were still online. Pretty much it felt to him like a really rude jolt. And it upset his systems so much it immediately shut down. So Prowl isn't in any mortal danger, his systems just locked up on him from the shock."

Crystal looked Prowl's body over. A small hand went up to lay it on a door panel, as if trying to feel the life still beating through the contact.

"So...what do we have to do for him?"

"You can help me with the hardware repairs and then we'll have Perceptor look over his internal programming to make sure there wasn't any damage as a result of the shutdown."

"What happens if there is damage?" Crystal asked in a small voice. Her hand had now drifted to his back, itching to help him with his wound.

Ratchet understood. He didn't see Crystal with Prowl much, but he understood there was a friendship there. The two had discovered a mutual trust and affection for each other several months before she ever came to live in the Ark.

"There shouldn't be any lasting damage. The computer was old and only running at about fifty percent or lower. A proper reboot should fix his systems just fine. But if we do find anything, we'll worry about that then and see what Perceptor says. For right now, let's get Prowl put back together."

"Yes, let's," she agreed.

The two got to work and Crystal was extremely happy with not only repairing a dear friend, but seeing Ratchet at work with a deep, internal wound. She didn't get to see many of those and she soaked up everything she learned from it. The shot had gone all the way through Prowl's back and went out through the upper part of his hood. The two started at the entrance of the wound and began to repair back to front.

After going as deep as they could, they replaced a new pane of glass on his back and turned the hefty Autobot over to work on the small wound in his chest. Ratchet did most of the work, explaining what he did while he was doing it. Crystal observed for the most part, handing him tools or helping when he needed smaller fingers.

When Ratchet was nearly done with the front, Crystal pulled back to look at the patient. Prowl looked so different with the brunt of his large chest armor missing. Instead of stark, smooth white, the were gaping black wires and exposed circuits. Despite how much she knew about them, how much she knew they were different from her, she sometimes forgot what they were made of on the inside. It was interesting, almost strange to see.

"I'm going to get Perceptor," Ratchet announced as he finished the last of the repairs. "I don't know if he wants us to keep the rest of the armor off for the tests or if we can close him up. Stay with him, I'll be right back."

Crystal nodded and pulled up a stool to the examining table. She rested on her elbows as she watched Prowl's inert face. She never liked it when their optics were black like that. It's not like they had eyelids to close, but it looked too much like death not to see light in them.

Scooting closer, she put her head on his shoulder as she watched his face. Poor Prowl. She imagined he wasn't going to like missing time by being offline for so long. She hated it herself and she didn't have nearly such a full schedule. Idly, she touched his cheek with a finger, as if expecting him to stir. When he didn't, she ran the tip down the line of his face. He stayed motionless, but serene. She liked that face. She liked it when he looked at her, especially when he gave her that smile that wasn't really a smile. She had known people like him who had trouble expressing themselves. She knew genuine attempts at affection when she saw it and it didn't go unappreciated.

Secretly, she always wondered what a full, uninhibited smile from him would look like. Jazz's was absolutely contagious. Prowl's probably wouldn't be quite like that, but she decided it was probably beautiful. Her optics wandered unbidden to his mouth.

Crystal touched her own mouth as she remembered a few weeks ago when Sideswipe had suddenly kissed her right on Valentine's Day. It was clearly a joke, but she had to wonder if the red Autobot was just mimicking something he saw other humans do or if it was a practice in Cybertronian culture as well.

She had not been aware she had been leaning over him on her elbows until Ratchet and Perceptor rounded the corner. Crystal immediately sat herself back on her stool and tried to look like she hadn't let her mind wander.

"Okay," Ratchet told her, not seeming to have noticed. "Grab a corner. Let's wheel him over and hook him up."

Without attaching the missing chest armor, Perceptor plugged in a few wires to what Crystal recognized where some important processing systems. Most went into the chest, one plugged neatly into the side of his helmet without having to remove anything. The screen instantly relayed pages upon pages of information that looked like nothing but gibberish to Crystal. Perceptor, however, scrolled through them extremely fast and seemed to get all the information he was looking for.

"Everything looks in tact for the most part," Perceptor relayed his findings. "I see a few odd palpitations here and there, but that is most likely his internal systems offset by the shock. The best way to fix that is to reboot his systems and bring him online. We will let him recalibrate his internal clocks and processors on his own."

"Alright," Ratchet agreed as he helped Perceptor unplug the monitor from Prowl's systems. "Let's keep him open just in case."

"Hey, Crys," Sunstreaker called as he wandered in rotating his arm. "This joint is giving me some problems. If you're done with Prowl, can you take a look at it?

Crystal glanced back in Prowl's direction. Ratchet and Perceptor were close to rebooting his system. Everything looked good and they didn't need her help.

"Yeah, I can look at it. Hop up here." She patted the table.

Sunstreaker jumped up and Crystal instantly saw her mistake. As tall as he was, plus him sitting on the table, his shoulder was well above her head and he was grinning.

"Alright Sunshine, change of plans." She pulled up Ratchet's chair he used at his desk and patted the seat.

Sunstreaker moved down and it was just the right height to work on his shoulder. Crystal grabbed the proper tools and then set about opening the protective armor covering the shoulder joint.

"You know, Crys, I like it when you do the detail work," Sunstreaker informed her. "You're careful not to chip my paint, unlike other medics."

She smiled to herself. "Ratchet is just trying to keep you humble, that's all."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Humility, what's that good for?"

Crystal smirked and got to work. She angled herself so she could keep an eye on what was going on with Prowl while she did the repairs. Ratchet was rebooting his systems while Perceptor observed. There was the familiar deep whir and clicks of the Autobot's system it powered on. Optics flickered on and it seemed almost as breath was inhaled into the body. But then, Crystal clearly saw it out of the corner of her optics, Prowl's entire body suddenly bowed off the examining table and then began to spasm.

She immediately stopped what she was doing and her tools clattered to the floor. Prowl let out an almost primal noise. It was filled with horror and a pain that went deeper than physical.

In a maddened state, he lashed out at the nearest thing. Ratchet, used to hardened warriors being jolted back into consciousness, dodged the attack and pulled a startled Perceptor out of the way. But when Prowl tried to make a dash off the bed, Ratchet had no choice but to put his personal safety on the line.

"Grab his other side!" he barked at Perceptor. "Try to hold him back!"

At the same time, Ratchet hit the emergency button above him on the wall. "I need help over here!"

Prowl's struggling was almost too much for both the Autobots trying to hold him down. Prowl wasn't the biggest Autobot, but he was quite strong and he clearly had a lot of energy running through him in his panic. Sunstreaker rushed from his seat to aid them. But even three Autobots were having a rough time of it. Ratchet kept trying to get a hold of the table restraints but Prowl was having none of that.

Crystal could only watch on in complete horror. She was frozen to her spot, listening to Prowl scream out in a voice that didn't even sound like his. All his cries were in Cybertronian. She had no idea what he was saying and she was terrified for him.

"What happened?" Ratchet called to Perceptor. "You said he was stable!"

"I thought he was!" Peceptor dodged a deadly swipe to his head and continued to try to hold Prowl's arm down. "How long has he been living with that battle computer?"

"Since early on in the war."

"A few millennia?!" Perceptor screeched over Prowl's cries. "Why didn't you tell me!?"

"Why didn't you ask?!" Ratchet snarled back. "How was I supposed to know the amount of time mattered?"

"That computer has been repressing emotions and memories for millions of years! Now it's hitting him all at once! It's too much for him! How could you not know about this? Where is your research!?"

"I've been on another planet!"

At this time, Wheeljack and Brawn rushed in help hold down the flailing Prowl enough so he could be restrained. He was still screaming. The sight made Crystal's legs weak, yet she couldn't tear her gaze from him. Not until something tall and yellow stood in her way.

Crystal grabbed his arms and immediately tried to move him, but Sunstreaker held her back.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." He tried to steer her for the door.

"No," she protested. "I can't just leave!"

Sunstreaker grabbed her shoulders to make her look at him instead of the shocking scene behind him.

"Prowl wouldn't want you to see him this way. You're shaking. You need to leave." His tone was forceful and Crystal couldn't muster the strength to fight against it. Her heavy feet dragged over the floor, but Sunstreaker easily managed to get her out of the med bay.

Her body grew weaker the further they walked down the hall. The noise was still coming from behind. Since she couldn't be with him, all she wanted to do was block it out. It was killing her on the inside, even from there.

Optimus Prime was now running down the hall with Jazz at his tail. The Autobot leader raced past them to the med bay without slowing down. Jazz skidded on one foot as he went by when he saw Crystal. But Sunstreaker looked like he had things under control. Jazz would check on her later. Right now he had to be there for his friend.

Crystal couldn't remember how long it took her, but Sunstreaker had somehow steered her back to her room and led her inside. That was where he took her shoulders again and turned her to look her in the face.

"Hey, you okay?" Her blank expression worried him. "Primus, you are shaking so bad. Crys, talk to me. How do you feel?"

She forced herself to focus. "I...I think I'm alright, but I can't stop it." She folded her arms around herself in attempt to stop shivering, but it seemed to fill her whole body and she couldn't will it to be still.

"Come here, just sit for a while." Sunstreaker sat himself next to the open door way and pulled Crystal into his lap. She almost objected to the treatment, but the yellow Autobot drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around her, caging her in with his limbs and pulling her close. He held her tight against his chest as if trying to physically stop the shaking himself.

Once Crystal felt that strong pulse of his spark radiating through his chest, all resistance fell from her and she melted against it. She didn't know where her obsession with sparks came from, but something called her to them. The few exposed sparks she had seen in the med bay had mesmerized her. Even covered, she had a hard time staying away from them. Any Autobot unfortunate enough to be unconscious in the med bay got Crystal's attention. She would press her head to any chest given the opportunity.

She didn't know why, but it was as if her body craved the contact. Maybe it was her own lack of a steady beating in her body. She had a fuel pump, but it wasn't the same. Her body was used to feeling its own heart beat within itself and now, everyone else had something similar but her. Even without contact, she could feel them sometimes. It made he feel dead in contrast. She wanted to be next to that life power. Her whole being hungered for it.

When Sunstreaker gave her the opportunity to be held against his for as long as she wanted, she didn't waste it. Every spark sounded slightly different. Sunstreaker's had a powerful, deep signature with a high pitched, impatient undertone. Crystal pressed her audial into the yellow chest and let that relaxing rhythm radiate through her whole body, calming her down. The shaking slowly began to subside and her optics flickered off as she was engulfed in the frequency.

Sunstreaker remained where he was, keeping a vigilant eye out the door to see if he could glean any information from what was going on down the next hallway.

Several minutes later, Sideswipe came into the room. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He stepped over Sideswipe's legs and sat himself next to his brother, leaning against his shoulder. Sunstreaker gave him a quick glance before returning his vigil to the hall. He felt Crystal relax against him, possibly even drifting off to sleep. That was probably good for her. He continued to wait patiently where he was for any further news from the med bay.


.

It was finally quiet in the now crowded med bay, but no one was relaxing. Brawn still looked like he didn't dare remove his hands from Prowl even though the second in command had quit thrashing and was now as still as if he were back in stasis lock.

Unfortunately for him, however, stasis lock was not a luxury Prowl's condition could afford. Stasis would end his suffering, but it would also stop his systems from finishing the full reboot to recalibrate without his old battle computer. His systems had to stay online if they were to recover from this ordeal. Which meant Prowl had no choice but to suffer through all the backlash and no one could help him through it.

The only thing that could be done for him was to turn off all his motor relays so he couldn't accidentally hurt himself. Ratchet and Perceptor were in agreement. The best way to approach this was to put Prowl in a kind of semi sleep where his systems could still run their course but he was only partially conscious. While he still had to emotionally work through his past memories, he wouldn't be a physical danger to himself or others.

"So he's gonna be okay, right?" Jazz worried as he looked over his friend. Prowl's body was still, but his face was tense. "I can't do this job without him. Prowl's like my main man."

"Prowl's tougher than this," Ratchet nodded. "He'll get through it. But depending on how this reboot affects him and what exactly has been repressed in his memories, it may take him a bit of time. Right now, he feels stuck in that time before his battle computer. But when he wakes up, his internal clock will kick in and he was start placing all his memories back in the past and be able to put some distance between himself and those bombarding emotions."

"I suggest giving him a day or two off no matter the results," Perceptor joined in. "Prowl is very good at hiding his personal problems in order to tend to his responsibilities. Knowing him, he will insist he is stable enough to return to his position whether he is or not."

"Agreed," Optimus Prime said. "After seeing this display, Prowl isn't going to convince me otherwise. I'm giving him three day's leave when he wakes up. Jazz, I'm going to rely on you to help me enforce that."

Jazz grinned and saluted. "I'll do my best, Boss."

"Well, he's fine for now," Ratchet said, his voice slowing turning to that 'you can leave my med bay now' tone. "He just needs his own time to get used to it. I'll keep you informed, Prime, when he wakes up and what his current condition is. But right now, all we can do is wait until then."

Optimus nodded as Wheeljack and Brawn were already leaving.

"Can you let me know when he's close to coming out of it?" Jazz asked the medic. "I wanna be here, just in case something happens."

"That's a good idea. I'll radio you when it looks like he's almost finished recalibrating."

Satisfied, Jazz and Optimus left as well. The latter went back to what he had been supervising previously while Jazz took a detour to a small room down another hall.

He poked his head through the open door of Crystal's quarters to find both Lamborghini twins inside with Crystal still in Sunstreaker's protective hold. At his appearance, the brothers looked up at Jazz as if expecting some orders. But all he did was give them the "OK" signal and a smile and went on his way. They had done good. Jazz didn't have to worry about anything here.


.

Outside the Ark, angry clouds gathered in the sky to release one of the many spring rainstorms Oregon routinely received. On a grassy hill overlooking the Ark, Smokescreen sat as he cleaned his energy weapon. He made no notice of the storm only minutes away as he worked over his task. An Autobot as gray as the clouds climbed the hill toward him and Smokescreen paid no mind to him either.

"Hey," Bluestreak greeted as he sat down next to the blue Datsun.

He got hardly more than a grunt in response. Smokescreen was busy assembling the newly cleaned parts of his rifle.

"Did you hear about Prowl?" Bluestreak continued conversationally. "He almost got his spark fried, but it was just his battle computer that got the hit. I heard he had a hard time with it when it was removed, but Ratchet says he should wake up soon."

"I know," was the short response.

Bluestreak waited for more. When it never came, he spoke again.

"Do you want to go by the med bay later and see how he's doing?"

No response.

"Ratchet says he still might be out for a while, but I think he would appreciate it if we came by to check on him. Maybe he'll even wake up while—"

"Bluestreak," Smokescreen interrupted with an authoritive voice. "If I were you, I'd get my gray aft off this hill right now before the storm hits. You don't want to be caught in the middle of it."

Bluestreak paused for a second and then looked skyward. "Yeah, it looks like it might be a bad one. We should both go in. Don't want to get caught in that mess."

Smokescreen slid the last piece of his weapon in place before leveling a look at the other Autobot.

"That's not the storm I'm talking about. And you'll want to get far away from me when it happens."

Bluestreak stared owlishly at him. "Why? What's going to happen?"

Smokescreen stared seriously at the entrance to the Ark.

"I'm going to get what's been coming to me for a long time."


.

The med bay was quiet, save for a few clicks from equipment here and there and the shuffling of Ratchet in the back corner as he organized his tools after a long day. Prowl's body was still as he lay on the examining table. His optics were on, but they glowed faintly as if he were trapped in some trance. He hadn't moved for over an hour and Ratchet had estimated another two hours at least before he would show signs of life. That was why, when Prowl's fingers started to twitch, Ratchet wasn't around to notice.

It was only by chance the medic went looking in search of some items that he happened upon the examining table where his patient was supposed to be resting. Somehow, Prowl had managed to get out of the safety straps without a sound. The second in command was gone.


.

Still nestled by the doorway inside Crystal's room, Sunstreaker gazed lazily out in the hall. Normally, he got a little antsy if he was stuck in one place for too long. But it was warm and comfortable. Crystal was curled up on his lap, her audial practically glued to his chest. She hadn't stirred for quite some time. He assumed she was sleeping. Sideswipe was dead weight against his shoulder. His brother had slipped into light recharge without anything else to do.

Sunstreaker was fading himself. His optics flickered in and out before he finally succumbed and let his systems switch off.

"Prowl?"

It was Crystal's voice and Sunstreaker stirred as she wriggled out of his arms and crawled toward the door. Apparently she hadn't been sleeping after all. She peered down the hall on hands and knees, but there was nothing there.

"What's up, Crys?" Sunstreaker asked lethargically. He shifted and stretched, causing Sideswipe to fall over. His head hit the floor, waking him up.

"I thought I saw Prowl pass by," Crystal said as she got to her feet. "But he went by so fast."

Sunstreaker didn't look too keen on getting up. "You were probably sleeping and just imagined it."

"I'm going down to the med bay just in case."

"Hold on." Sunstreaker lunged to his knees and grabbed her wrist to stop her from going. After what happened earlier, he wanted to make sure all was well in the med bay before he let Crystal loose. "Let me radio down there first to see what's going on."

"Ratchet here," came an instant, but slightly agitated response.

"Hey, it's Sunstreaker. Just wanted to check, how's Prowl doing?"

"At this point, your guess is as good as mine. The slagger's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?!"

Crystal yanked herself from his grip and ran off in the direction she thought he went.

"Crys! Wait!" Sunstreaker called, but she wasn't listening. "Great," he grumbled as he got to his feet.

Sideswipe was now curled up on the floor, oblivious to what was going on. Sunstreaker grabbed the frame behind his neck and pulled him to his feet. Sideswipe looked at him sluggishly, his systems still trying to get back to full speed.

"Wuh...? Streak?"

Sunstreaker slightly slapped him on the cheek to get his attention. "Wake up, Swipe. We've got a situation."


.

Prowl had always been an overachiever. It was in his nature. And he certainly wasn't interested in waiting on Ratchet's time table to be up and about. He had things to do.

While in his sleep-like state, Prowl had been trapped in a rush of memories and emotions. All the difficult times in his past that he had tried to put behind him for so long. For a while, he felt overwhelmed by the fear and grief and desperation that came with his early war experiences. But there was one emotion shoved deep down that now fought to push past all the others. It was that emotion that forced his systems into consciousness. Now Prowl remembered what he had forgotten for so long.

He had forgotten that he was really, really pissed off.

The second he came online, he knew exactly where to direct his anger and he stalked after a particular energy signature with barely suppressed rage. Swiftly and silently, Prowl followed the trail outside. Thunder rolled as he stepped onto the grass and his burning optics swept over the landscape. He moved forward and an energy weapon fired at his feet, forbidding his advance.

"Stay right there, Prowl," Smokescreen warned from his place at the hilltop. "You're not thinking clearly. You need to calm down."

Prowl scowled in return. He was still missing his chest armor. All the black, exposed wires made him a grotesque sight. Above them, the thunder snapped and a light drizzle of rain fell upon the two brothers.

"No, Smokescreen, for the first time I am seeing very clearly," Prowl growled back. "And you have a lot to answer for."

"I don't owe you explanations, Prowl. Everything I did was for your benefit."

Lightning cracked in the distance.

"You expect me to believe that?" Prowl shot back as he took a step forward. "After you've left me in the dark for so long? It was more convenient for you just to let me forget, wasn't it?"

"You needed that battle computer!" Smokescreen brandished his weapon as Prowl tried to approach, but didn't fire. "You couldn't function without it!"

By that time, Crystal had run out of the base with the twins at her heels. She paused when she noticed Prowl's back. Sunstreaker noticed him, too, but he also noticed Smokescreen with a rifle in his hands. He grabbed her before she could run towards the danger.

"Hold on Crys, we don't know what's going on. Stay here."

"And who's fault was it that I couldn't function after what you put me through?" Prowl shouted back. "My first waking moments of life were filled with fire and violence. And then you drag me all over creation searching for...monsters and phantoms!"

"Don't you say that was wrong! Our creator was out there! Just because you never met him—"

"And you let Nightshade die," Prowl growled.

Smokescreen lowered his weapon, a mirthless smirk on his face. "There it is. That's the real issue, isn't it? Stop pretending it's all these other things."

"You told her to get on that ship." Prowl stalked slowly up the hill. "It's your fault she's dead. You should have stopped her."

"It's what she wanted." Smokescreen circled the hillside, staying out of Prowl's reach. He still had his weapon, but it stayed at his side. "What do you know about it, Prowl? You weren't even there."

"That's because you didn't tell me!" Prowl's engine roared with his voice. "If I had known I would have gone with her! I would have protected her! And if anyone had hurt her I would have made them pay. But you." His voice became full of disgust. "You didn't even pay your respects before you were off again. You didn't care at all."

A shutter of sudden anger went through Smokescreen's body and he lifted his rifle to his shoulder.

"She wasn't yours, you stupid, self-righteous glitch-head! She was mine to protect! Mine to mourn! And mine to take vengeance for! You need to let it go!"

Prowl ignored the weapon aimed right at him. His voice was low and dangerous. "How can I when you won't do any of those things? You could have at least left me with her memory, but you robbed me of even that."

Prowl looked like he would spring and Smokescreen fired another warning shot to keep him back. This one nearly grazed the side of his helmet, but Prowl didn't even flinch. His anger left him beyond caring at this point.

"You left me no choice, Prowl," Smokescreen growled behind the rifle. "I had to do something. You let her death consume you. I couldn't let you throw your future away. I was thinking of you."

Prowl's sneer etched itself deeper on his face. "All you think about is yourself."

The rifle lowered in bafflement, then anger swept in. "Alright, that's it, Prowl!" Smokescreen threw his weapon far behind him and beckoned his brother. "If you're spoiling to fight, then let's have it. Come get a piece of me, if you can."

The rain was coming down harder now, making the slope slippery. Without the chest piece of his alt mode, Prowl couldn't transform. But that didn't stop him from making short work of the hill and practically launching himself at his older brother. Smokescreen caught the assault and both rolled down the other slide of the slope, tearing up the ground as they went.

Crystal's gasp was drowned in another clap of thunder when she saw the two Autobots explode at each other.

"Prowl!" It wasn't her voice, but Bluestreak's as he tore out of the Ark to join the fight.

"Swipe! Grab him!" Sunstreaker ordered.

With his longer legs, Sideswipe caught Bluestreak before he could transform and tackled him to the ground.

"Let go, Sideswipe! I have to help!" the gray Autobot complained.

"Sorry Blue, you don't want to get in the middle of that, trust me," Sideswipe said.

Crystal watched the fight dumbly. Sunstreaker had an arm over the front of her shoulders, but she wasn't trying to get away. She knew better than to get in the middle of that. She had seen many fights in her life, but they had always been inside a ring. This was something completely different.

This was an anger-driven melee. There was no prize to win. Each Autobot was only bent on pummeling their frustrations out of the other. That was all. As bad as it looked with the two punching and kicking at each other and rolling around in the mud, there weren't any lives on the line. Smokescreen could have ended it easily with Prowl's open chest. All he had to do was reach in and start yanking wires and Prowl would be down. But that wasn't the point of this match. There was something deeper going on.

Prowl managed to roll on top and jabbed his knee into Smokescreen's side before landing punch after punch to his face.

"You made me forget so you wouldn't have to deal with me and your own guilt!" he accused.

Smokescreen snarled and kicked him off, sending Prowl sliding several feet.

"I had to make you forget so you could do your job! You had the potential to become a top ranking Autobot. I knew no one could save more lives than you could. You know it, too. You're just too angry to admit it because no matter what you did, no matter how much better than me you thought you were, she chose me over you and you couldn't handle it."

Prowl was shaking in rage down to his door tips. "You didn't love her!"

Murder suddenly flashed in Smokescreen's optics. He let out a feral cry and charged. Prowl was ready, usually rage driven charges like this were easy to get the best of. But Smokescreen was quicker this time. After all, Prowl had to learn his fighting prowess from somewhere. He was on his back before he realized it. His optics were wide in shock as Smokescreen's fingers closed around his neck. He had never heard his brother's voice so emotionally charged, so dangerous before.

"Don't you tell me what I don't love," he growled.

Before another blow could take place, both Autobots were forcefully yanked off the ground and away from each other. Prowl dangled from Optimus Prime's grip while Grimlock had Smokescreen. Though the two were so covered in mud it was hard to tell which one was which.

"I think you two are quite finished," Optimus Prime barked at them. He did not sound pleased at all. He tossed Prowl at Snarl and pointed towards the Ark. "Put them in the brig. In separate cells. I will have a talk with them later."

"Humph, me Grimlock think that best fight me see all year."

"In the brig, Grimlock."

"Fine. Me go."

Neither Datsun put up a fight. Smokescreen looked weary, engine still growling from exertion, but didn't try anything more. Prowl's body had lost all its fight. He just stood there, almost like he would flop to the floor at any moment. Whether it was from the fight or as a result of all he had been through that day, he was done.

All the other Autobots who had wandered outside due to the sounds of the tussle gave them a wide berth as the Dinobots ceremoniously escorted the two offending Autobots inside.

Optimus Prime walked out to retrieve Smokescreen's discarded energy rifle before trudging in himself.

"I trust no one else was hurt or involved?" he asked the loitering crowd.

Everyone shook their heads.

"Good. Everyone back to work. It's over now."

Crystal was actually one of the first to march back inside and attend to her own business.


.

Down in the brig, Smokescreen and Prowl were left alone in cells next to each other with bars on the front and thick concrete walls between them. Smokescreen sat silently, dripping mud from every part of him, staring at the floor. Prowl was doing the same for all he knew. He couldn't hear a sound coming from the cell next to his. The wall prevented him seeing anything his younger brother was doing.

It was quiet in there. So quiet. Smokescreen usually liked it that way. But now, it was ringing in his optics, eating him alive. He had to say something.

"You know Prowl," he called out into the stillness. "It wasn't my goal to try to make you forget. I knew that wasn't fair. But you couldn't get a grip on anything after Nightshade was gone. I slaved my aft off trying to keep you in that Academy. I thought it would only be for a while until you could get yourself back together. But then...I got transferred."

He stamped his foot on the ground. "Those quack medics told me they'd take it out after a few solar cycles! But by the time I found out, you still had it in there. It was just easier to leave it that way."

Silence. Then...

"That's what you do, isn't it?" came the bitter response. "You always look for the easy way out."

Smokescreen smirked to himself. "Believe me Prowl, nothing about being related to you is easy."

There was no response from the other cell.

Smokescreen sighed. "I'm just sorry it took this long to get it out. Nightshade...I know she meant something to ya. It wasn't fair to take away the opportunity to remember her properly."

More silence.

Smokescreen shifted and leaned his head back to look at the ceiling. Maybe Prowl still wanted to lay into him some more. Maybe this would never end. It was then he noticed one of his optics had been split. It still worked, but there was a crack all the way through it. He reached up to touch it and then scowled when he smeared mud all over it instead, rendering the optic useless.

"I already miss that computer," came a soft voice.

Smokescreen leaned forward to hear it.

"Even before everything that happened, from my first day of life, I felt...incomplete. Like something important was missing. I always had this burn to seek out what I was missing, until that computer was installed. Then I didn't feel the urge to look for it any more. I felt more whole when I had it. And now...there's that hollowness inside me again."

Smokescreen smirked to himself as he leaned against the wall. "I've got news for you, Prowl. Everyone feels like that. We all feel like something's missing. That's life."

"I see."

"But you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. That's how I know He exists."

There was shifting from Prowl's cell. He must have moved closer to the bars because his voice was clearer now.

"He?"

"Primus, of course. Xion is our creator, no doubt. But he isn't the only one. He may have built our bodies, but Primus," Smokescreen slapped his own muddy chest, "He makes what's in here, our sparks. And the fact that we come online with that hollow feeling is how I know Primus is really out there."

"I don't follow," said Prowl's voice.

"You know how meticulous about perfection Xion was, Prowl? He was even worse than you. He would slave and slave over everything he created until it was above and beyond the last thing he built. Everything he made had to be perfect and yet, look at us. Look at how we turned out.

"But that's how I know Primus is out there. If Xion had his way, our sparks would be beyond perfection. We would never want for anything. But Primus makes us incomplete on purpose. He gives us life with that hollowness so we will have the drive to search out and fill it up. When I have that urge to go out and find whatever it is he wants us to search for, I feel closer to Him and I know He's up there."


.

From his own cell, Prowl was quiet. Who would have guessed Smokescreen had the ability to wax so eloquent. Or so thought provoking.

"Can I ask you something personal, Prowl?"

Prowl steeled himself. He usually didn't like the question when Smokescreen gave him prior notice.

"What?"

"That human. I know you were the one who ordered it. I know you started getting back your memories that night. Is that why you made her into one of us? You didn't want to do it all again?"

Prowl felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his injuries. "I don't know. I want to say that's not the reason, but..."

"It's okay if it is, you know. You saved her life, Prowl. Life is always the right choice."

"But if I did it just to make myself feel better..."

"That's scrap and you know it, Prowl. I can't think of a single thing you've done for just yourself. Hell, if you could save lives working in a slag pit I know you'd be the first one in there. That's who you are. Believe me, I know. I've had to deal with that annoying quirk of yours my entire life."

Prowl did not respond.

"So...do you forgive me?" Smokescreen then asked. "What happened on that ship wasn't anybody's fault. It was just...war. These things happen."

"I know," Prowl said softly. "I'm sorry I made so much trouble for you. And I'm sorry you lost her."

There was a heavy sigh that seemed to echo through the brig. "We both lost her, kid."

Smokescreen hadn't called him "kid" since Bluestreak came around. It certainly brought back memories. He was about to say something when there was a sudden whooshing sound from the next cell accompanied with much sputtering and swearing from Smokescreen.

When Prowl walked up to the bars to see what was going on, he got his turn to be blasted with a high power hose. He sputtered and stumbled back a few steps before the onslaught ceased.

Red Alert stood there, unimpressed with a dripping hose as the muddy water flowed down the drain in the middle of the floor.

"Now that you're somewhat presentable, Optimus Prime has ordered you go to the med bay, Prowl, to get put back together. After that, you will report back to the brig to wait out an as of yet undetermined length of time."

Prowl shook his shoulders, flicking water off his door panels. "Understood."

"And what about me?" Smokescreen asked as he stepped up to the bars.

"You shall have your turn in the med bay after Prowl," Red Alert replied. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was very displeased with both of them. "I will come back for you."

Prowl was paraded by the arm to the med bay. It made him feel like he was a misbehaving child being pulled along by the slightly shorter and much younger Red Alert. It was definitely a humbling experience all on its own. Once there, Ratchet gave him a similar disapproving look as he inspected Prowl's gaping chest. Prowl took it silently, knowing he deserved it.

"All this needs to be cleaned before we can put you back together," Ratchet informed him. Prowl still had muck caking much of his internal systems. "Go sit by the drain. Crystal!"

Prowl's optics widened a bit. "Perhaps that wouldn't be-"

"I said go sit," Ratchet barked, jabbing his finger in the direction of the drain in the floor.

Prowl reluctantly did was he was told and pulled up a stool.

Crystal poked her head in and reported directly to the head medic.

"Prowl's systems look a mess," Ratchet told her as he handed her a data pad. "Clean them up and report any injuries to me. Fix what you can and then come get me and we'll get his armor reattached."

"Yes, sir!"

Prowl avoided optic contact as Crystal came up to him and bent over to get a good look at the current state of his chest.

"Looks like someone already gave you a shower," she commented as she grabbed a few cleaning supplies. "I'm afraid you're going to need another when I'm done. There's still a lot of gunk in here."

Prowl just nodded a bit, but didn't say anything and made no attempt to meet her gaze. Smokescreen's question played itself over in his head.

Crystal grabbed a bottle of solvent and began to systematically clean each circuit and wire. Prowl took the personal treatment with a slight air of discomfort, but suffered through it. She either didn't notice or chose to ignore it.

"So, you feel better now?" she asked after a while. "Now that you got a few good punches in?"

She was looking at his chest, not his face, but Prowl still looked away. He was ashamed he had let himself get so far out of control. No matter how long he had been holding those feelings in, it was no excuse to act that way. Especially for an Autobot of his status.

"I know I would feel better after getting a few good punches in on that Smokescreen," she added.

Prowl looked up at her and she smirked.

"Who wouldn't, right?"

Prowl relaxed a bit. "Who indeed."

"And hopefully, now that you two boys got that out of your system, we won't have this problem again."

Prowl looked down once more. Even she had to put in a word or two to chastise his behavior. He deserved it.

Crystal went back to her work, flooding the soiled circuits with solvent bit by bit to clean them out and inspect them. It began to dribble down his front and onto the floor. He would indeed need to wash up after this.

"Looks good so far," Crystal told his open chest. "Looks like the two of you just wanted to get a few good face punches in. I don't see any damage."

Prowl was not sitting at the best height to do this job. Crystal had to keep alternating from standing to squatting to get the angle she wanted. Neither were preferred. Standing she was too tall and had to bend over. Squatting she was too short and had to reach up. But she did the best she could, secretly feeling grateful she didn't have back muscles that could get sore from it all.

Prowl sat in quiet reflection. It was the first time he was able to pick through all his past memories without being emotionally charged from it. The entire revelation of what he had remembered had hit him hard, but in a way, he had been remembering it since October when his battle computer first began to fritz.

Smokescreen was right. That night on Halloween when Ratchet had brought him back online after being reprogrammed by humans, his battle computer began to fail. When he came online, he had forgotten where and when he was and, for a moment, was trapped in a past that he had been forced to forget.

That night, during one of the biggest decisions he had ever had to make, Prowl let his emotions get the best of him. There was a femme in his past that had paid the ultimate price and he had not been there to help her. And he had loved her, whether she returned his affection or not.

He couldn't let someone else he cared about suffer the same fate when he was right there. He hadn't been able to protect Crystal that night when that bullet passed through her skull. He should have accepted it, but he refused to. No matter what Smokescreen said, it was his own selfishness that made him take her human body back to the Ark and demand a transplant.

It was his fault she was this way and if any unhappiness came of it, that was his fault as well.

Crystal make a surprised sound as she was suddenly pulled down to sit on his thigh. She looked at him for a moment, but then found the practicality of it.

"Oh, this is much better. Thanks."

She could easily clean out the mud now without having to stoop or crouch. But when she went to squirt more solvent on the soiled hardware, Prowl gently took the bottle from her hand, causing her to meet his optics. He looked at her as if he had never really taken a good look before. Maybe he hadn't been afforded that capability with the battle computer in play.

"Are you...happy here?" he asked her quietly.

Crystal broke his gaze so she could think seriously about the question.

"I am sometimes. But on the whole I feel...without direction. Unfulfilled. I mean, I try to keep myself busy and I feel I am being useful, but...I don't know, really."

Prowl nodded. He found it a bit difficult to hear that she was not completely happy, but that was what he liked about his relationship with her. Their mutual respect for each other that always demanded a truthful answer. As long as he had the truth, he could work with it.

"I'm sorry. I wish I knew what more to do for you. I wish you to be happy, but..."

Crystal put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. This right here is temporary. I have a new body coming and there will be new opportunities on Cybertron. I'm fine until then."

Pain laced Prowl's features as he pulled her in tighter and surprised Crystal by pressing his face to her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her metal skin. "I'm sorry you are stuck in this life. It's my fault. I lost someone...very dear to me once. That night you got hurt, that memory came back to me so vividly, I couldn't bear it again. But, I fear I have not done anything good for you."

Crystal sat there in silence for a while. She had been there during the fight. She had heard what both of them had said out in the rain. She didn't plan on tell him how his revelations had made her feel if he wasn't going to ask.

After he had a moment, she pulled back and smiled at him.

"It's okay. Life, any life, isn't easy. But I'm treated well here and I love you, many of you, very much. Right now life might not be perfect, but we can work on that. And, if it's okay with you, I really didn't plan on going anywhere without you."

There was a pull on the side of Prowl's mouth. A full smile was working its way in. Not a tight, guarded smile. A real one. Crystal was surprised to see it. She liked it very much.

"Yes," Prowl replied. He looked as though he had just had a giant weight lifted of his shoulders. "That would be okay with me."

Close File #014 Incomplete: Prowl