Many thanks to Nikkie2011 for beta reading it, and encouragement during all stages of writing this.
Chapter 3
Jazz puttered down the hallway to his class, optics bright as he looked around the sea of younglings bustling about. A gentle breeze wove through the hallway, warm and smelling of the outdoors.
Jazz paused briefly by an open window to gaze wistfully outside, the sunlight tickling his armor, before he turned away as a shout from another student caught his attention. A quick glance in that direction revealed who he was looking for. Prowl's twitching doorwings were just adjacent to him, that constant movement effectively kept others at a slight distance as they shifted to avoid them. Prowl was getting his datapad out of his locker. Jazz leapt into action without warning, dancing between the other students, giggling, as he made his way to Prowl's side.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" An older student called out angrily as his haphazard armload of data pads slid toward the floor.
"Sorry!" Jazz yelled back, pausing to watch the ruckus before turning to Prowl with a wicked smile.
"You did that intentionally," Prowl narrowed his optics at him before turning back to close his locker. The lockers reflected the bright sunlight from windows behind him, but Prowl's dull black and white paint job did not even gleam in the light, a sharp contrast to the bright paint of their classmates. Jazz could easily see the shadows of a few new dents and scratches.
Gently, even for such a hyper youth, Jazz placed his hand lightly on his friend's shoulder, feeling a shallow dent under his digits. Prowl looked up, into Jazz's optics, and the dim blue light shone brighter for a klick. A faint, not quite pleasant odor came from the other youngling, as if he had not washed with cleanser recently. A state that did not fit with his friend's meticulous nature at all.
"Good orn, Jazz." a faint smile graced his usually stoic features.
"Good orn, Prowl." Jazz let his hand fall as Prowl stepped away and they ambled together toward their classroom. Jazz worriedly hovered close to Prowl's side. He was quick to grab Prowl's elbow to steady him when another student bumped into them. Prowl recovered quickly as they continued.
"Clumsy aft," Jazz muttered, glaring after the mechling. "Did ya remember your lunch today?" Jazz asked loudly so he could be heard over several other conversations, following his calmer friend through the morning rush.
Prowl looked over at Jazz, a crease between his eyebrows. "No. And watch your language," he scolded gently.
"Hmm." Jazz's optics brightened as he saw their teacher, Miss Coral, standing in the hallway ahead of them, serenely watching the mayhem unfolding before her.
"Miss Coral!" Jazz yipped when they were beside her, waving to get her attention.
"Good orn, Jazz, Prowl," her warm smile faded a little as she compared the two younglings before her.
"Prowl forgot his lunch again, Miss Coral." Jazz stated, pausing directly in front of her.
Prowl frowned at him. "Jazz!" He snapped as his doorwings shot up to frame his helm.
Carefully, Coral extended her field to brush lightly against Prowl's, and teeked his embarrassment. Thoughtfully, she looked the young Praxian over, her sharp optics did not miss the dull paint or trembling doorwings.
"He's never brought a lunch!" Jazz continued, despite Prowl's warning glare.
"I'm fine, Jazz. I'm used to it." Prowls scowl deepened as he looked from his friend to teacher.
"Hmm." As she stepped aside so the two could enter, Coral winked at Jazz, bending down to speak only to him. "I'll see what I can do, ok?" Coral allowed a frown to deepen her faceplates as she turned away. Sparklings as young as Jazz and Prowl needed three meals a day. Their young systems just couldn't process even low grade as efficiently as an adult. Routinely missing a meal was not good for their health.
Jazz beamed at her as he walked away, right on Prowl's heels.
Venting softly, she turned slightly to watch the two walk to their desks. Jazz almost seemed to bounce with each step, his thin youngling armour shiny, visor bright. He talked animatedly with his hands, gestures almost knocking data pads off his classmates desks, much to their dismay. Prowl… Prowl walked. His doorwings trembled and hung low. Optics dull and downcast… armor ill-kept. His movements were almost calculated. To conserve energy? Or just his personality. She couldn't tell.
Coral paused in the doorway of the lunchroom, the sweet scent of low grade, combined with the rumble of 45 younglings of various ages all conversing at once in a confined space made her smile. She scanned the packed room carefully, finally locating the two she sought as she wound her careful way over to them. Jazz sat in his usual spot, sipping his energon, looking around at the other students. Prowl sat in a warm sunbeam beside him, looking at his hands, which were folded neatly in his lap. His doorwings hung limp on his back.
"Here, Prowl." She spoke softly, trying not to startle him… but he still flinched to one side, looking up at her, his optics widening. She could just see the sliver of fear before his optics cleared.
"Miss Coral," He replied respectively. Jazz looked up at her, smiling, "Hi Miss Coral!" He chirped. Coral watched as Prowl's optics drifted down to her hands… and the cube of low grade she held. Unconsciously, he licked his lips.
"Go on, Prowl. Drink the cube." she said firmly as she set it down in front of him, her field brushed reassuringly against his. Prowl's optics followed the cube, and he reached out for it, before he hesitated and looked questioningly up at her again.
"For me?"
Coral leaned forward, seeing Prowl's lips move, barely able to hear him over the din of the other students.
"Yes, Prowl, enjoy." her smile warmed Prowl's spark as she nodded her helm firmly at him. He hesitantly took it, and sipped. Her spark ached for him, but she carefully kept her field pulled close as he looked up quickly at her, not wanting him to pick up any emotions from her that he could even possibly misconstrue. Still smiling, she nodded encouragingly. The little black and white youngling wasted no time gulping down the rest of the cube.
Seeing Prowl finish, Jazz bounced to his pedes. "Let's go out to play!"
Smiling at his friend, Prowl rose as well. Turning to look shyly up at his teacher before his gaze dropped, "Thank you." He whispered softly, optics on her pedes.
"You're welcome, Prowl. Go have fun, class will start again soon." She admonished them. A slight smile graced her face as she watched them scamper away.
Clouds passed over the sun, casting drifting shadows down on the yard, gently pushed by the soft breeze. Prowl slowly followed Jazz around the play equipment to where a small group of students milled. Some were in the class with them, others from different classes. Jazz waved Prowl closer.
"Prowler an' I'll play too." Jazz said to them as he bounced on his pede tips in the bright afternoon sun, his shadow intertwining with the others. Prowl stood awkwardly apart, watching.
A black mechling with purple highlights cycled his optics. "He's on your team, then." He snorted as he tossed their ball onto the ground and kicked it to a teammate. Jazz raced off after the ball with a horde of other younglings, all pushing and shoving each other to get control of it. The bright sun shone down on them, sparkling off their light armour and blinding Prowl. He hesitated, raising a hand to his optics.
At first he only watched as they raced around, his doorwings flicking on his back. The fuel he'd drank raised his energy levels higher than they had been in orns, and he really, really, didn't want to waste it running around. He watched as they swarmed over the yard, calculating when he could intercept the ball, and moved there. Prowl kicked the ball in a random direction, the swarm tripping over itself in its haste to change direction. Several younglings fell over their playmates.
"Hey!" hollered one of them, "You kicked it in the wrong direction!" He started laughing as his team intercepted the ball and kicked it into a goal. "Thanks!"
Confused, Prowl just stood in the middle of the field as the others untangled themselves, their shadows casting dark patterns on the ground.
Jazz, one of those who had fallen, yelled, "Our goal is tha' way!" as he pointed behind Prowl from where he sprawled on the ground at Prowl's pedes.
Growling and sending him disgusted looks, several other younglings shot off again, the lot of them off chasing the ball in a mindless horde. Prowl stood still for a few klicks, watching them before he turned to walk off the field. But before he could get far, they were back. The ball they were chasing about hit his leg, rebounding back toward the other younglings and he squealed in surprise, shying away.
"Kick it!" Yelled the same black youngling as before. "You're useless." He snapped as he slid on the ground before Prowl, glaring at him before he collected himself and raced off.
Prowl stared after the other younglings, his doorwings shuddering. As he turned to continue his treck back to the building, he could hear them shouting encouragement or insults to each other, the game continuing on without him. He trudged past the playground, optics lowered, as the other younglings screeched and romped without a care.
He stopped to stand beside a wall near the entrance to the school, in the shadow of the school. The cool wall leached the heat of the sun's warmth from his armour where he leaned his shoulder against it. His helm lowered, and brow creased as thoughts rolled in an endless loop though his processor. Running pedesteps had him raising his helm quickly, but it was only Jazz. He returned to contemplate his pedes, his shoulder still pressed firmly against the wall.
"Hey, don' cha want to play?" Jazz chirped, cocking his helm to one side as he bounced from one pede to the other, venting heavily from his run from the field to Prowl's side.
"I can watch from here." Prowl replied sturdily, his doorwings flaring out with his words, his back still turned to his friend.
Jazz just stared at him, lips pursed as he bounced on his pede tips.
"Hey, Jazz!" a voice shouted from the field. Jazz turned to wave at the other youngling, then leaned casually on the cool wall of the building behind Prowl.
"Aren't you playing with them?" Prowl inquired, a slight frown graced his lips as he shifted to rest his back against the wall.
"Nah, tired of it." Jazz smiled over at him, and they stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the others run about in the bright sunlight.
"Jazz?" Prowl asked suddenly, as he blinked at the confusing mass of screaming sparklings running all around, still enjoying the bright sun and fresh air, before they returned to their classes, and had to sit still.
.
"Yeah, Prowler?" Jazz bounced a little, a perpetual bundle of energy ready to explode in all directions. A cheerful grin split his faceplates as he watched his quiet friend.
"Would you miss me if I were gone?" Prowl asked, staring at Jazz, his back pressed into the cool wall of the school rising high above them, cutting the sun's warm rays off and chilling his frame.
"What'cha mean?" Jazz stopped bouncing and just stared at Prowl, visor bight. He shivered a little, crossing his arms and rubbing his hands on his upper arms as the afternoon light dimmed, clouds drifting over the sun, hiding the sun's dancing light.
"If I didn't come back, ever, would you miss me?" Prowl pressed, straightening as his doorwings flared out to frame his helm, his optics locked on Jazz.
Jazz looked at him oddly, "Course I would Prowl! You're my friend." His frown deepened, worry creasing his faceplates.
They stood staring at each other, a yawning chasm grew between them, and the worlds they inhabited. Prowl was still silent when the bell rang, ending recess. He waited until the others had rushed in, before he commenced his stately trek to their class. Jazz trailed behind Prowl, the two the last to return.
Miss Coral smiled warmly at them as they entered, Prowl calm, and Jazz oddly subdued. She frowned slightly, wondering what could have happened over recess. She had looked out at them once, and seen them talking by the school playgrounds. Shaking her helm to clear her thoughts, she waved the two to their seats and began the lessons for the afternoon.
As Coral made her rounds of the classroom, quietly offering assistance or encouragement as needed, she stopped by Prowl's desk. He sat quietly looking out the window, watching the clouds drift by. As usual, he had finished his work early.
She leaned close so only he could hear, "Prowl, can you please stay back for a moment when class is over?"
Prowl stared at her, before he nodded, once. Jazz looked questioningly at them, barely restraining himself from speaking.
"Jazz, pay attention to your work, please." She admonished him.
Quickly his optics dropped down, but not before he flicked a concerned look at his friend.
As her rowdy class exited the room for the day, Jazz and Prowl approached her desk hesitantly. Pursing her lips at Jazz's obvious worry, she waved gently to the young Praxian to come closer. "Go on Jazz, Prowl will be done soon." She nodded toward the classroom door and watched the youngling hesitantly leave his friend, only to hover just outside the closed door before turning to the black and white Praxian youngling standing tensely in front of her desk.
"You're not in trouble, Prowl." she said gently to the nervous youngling with a reassuring smile. "I have an exciting offer for you. One we don't make often." Her optics lit with her excitement.
"I've noticed how quickly you get done with your work," she went on. "And it is always very well done. But it's not very challenging, is it?" She asked.
"It's ok," Prowl whispered, looking down at her desk, not wanting to agree with her. His doorwings danced nervously on his back, and he licked his lips as he fidgeted with his data pad.
"Now Prowl, I've spoken to the director and I think you'd find the work in the next class much more challenging." She smiled eagerly at him, but his forehead creased in puzzlement and he frowned slightly at her.
"What do you think of moving to the next grade level?" she asked him directly, with a proud smile.
Prowl stood quietly before her desk, his wings drooping until they were almost flat against his back. He cast a quick look to the closed door, knowing Jazz was hovering outside, waiting for him to join him.
"Can Jazz come?" He finally asked Miss Coral, looking back at her. He knew the answer would be no, before she even said anything. Slowly she shook her helm, optics sad. "No my dear, Jazz is in the right grade, he would not do well in a more advanced class." She replied gently. "You would still see him at lunch time and recess, however."
Prowl frowned slightly in disappointment. "No thank you." He finally said, looking down at his data pad.
"No?" Miss Coral inclined her helm to one side and then nodded slowly. "Very well. But please continue to not distract the others when you are finished, I really do appreciate that. And, I do have something for you." With a small flourish and a smile she pulled out a data pad and handed it to him.
Prowl took it carefully, as if afraid it would bite him. Lifting her chin she stated, "Have your creator sign it, and return it. Then you can be on the free meal program we have here." Prowl jerked his helm up and stared at her, even his doorwings frozen.
"I don't have to pay for my energon?" He asked, optics wide.
"Nope. Just have him sign that and return it to me. I'll do the rest." She smiled gently at his dumbfounded look. "It's ok, Prowl. The program is here for families who need it." And you most definitely do. "Have a good rest of your orn," she finished, dismissing him with a kind smile as she reached for one of the data pads to grade.
Prowl clutched the data pad to his chest, optics hopeful as he turned to go, "Good orn." He said, before pausing by the door. He turned back to her, door wings held high. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Prowl." Coral smiled at him as he carefully stepped out of the classroom, and laughed a little, as Jazz's voice drifted in through the open door as he grilled his friend.
Outside the classroom, Jazz was bouncing on his pedes. Twenty-million questions falling from his lips as he lead the way down the hall, to the outer doors where he would meet his carrier, dancing the whole way beside his companion who was walking carefully behind him. There was no skip, no dance in Prowl's step just slow and deliberate, but almost light now. And he carefully held the data pad tight to his chest, watchful to make sure his rambunctious friend didn't knock into it.
Prowl drove to the apartment building and tiredly transformed. He staggered slightly, then caught himself before he fell. He walked to the apartment entrance, no longer noticing the scent of mech fluid and garbage that permeated this part of his world now. His processor clocked over time, as he waited for the elevator, trying to think of a way to get Slipknot to sign the note.
The elevator lumbered painfully to a stop on his floor, Prowl quickly hopped out, the thought of being caught in it for another trip was unbearable. He entered his apartment, shutting the door as quietly as possible and looked around. But Slip wasn't home yet, his usual spot by the refrigerator was empty. Prowl paused to consider the ancient appliance. His tanks were still settled from the cube Miss Coral had given him, and his fuel level was at 50% - low enough other younglings would be yammering for a cube. But Prowl knew he could let his levels drop even farther before he needed to fuel. He would wait. He didn't really want to consume the mid grade just yet. It upset his tanks so badly. And it was so hard for his systems to process it… Yes, he would wait until he had to fuel.
Prowl quietly went to his room. He picked up a history data pad, but the light hung from the ceiling cast little light for him to read by. Pursing his lips, Prowl looked around his tiny room thoughtfully. Hesitantly, he walked to the living room and stood before the heavy curtain that tried to block all light from entering the room. The moment he moved the heavy fabric out of his way, a dense cloud of dust billowed up and he coughed violently to clear his vents.
Prowl settled on the small window ledge, the heavy curtains falling close behind him, his vents still stuttering occasionally from the dank odor coming from the curtains. The cheerful sunlight lit his data pad as he read, hidden.
Prowl was deep into his book file when he heard Slipknot enter the apartment, grumbling. "Fragging idiots. Stubborn aft hole." Not sure what had set his guardian off, Prowl froze in place, listening. Prowl heard the refrigerator wheeze pathetically as Slipknot opened it, and thump when he let the door fall shut as he left the kitchen. Slipknot banged on Prowl's bedroom door before flinging it open, as usual. There was a long silence. Prowl held his hands over his mouth as to keep completely quiet.
"Where the frag is that brat?" Slipknot muttered as he entered the washracks and slammed the door shut.
Prowl quickly tucked his bookfile into his subspace along with the data pad from Miss Coral, and slipped soundlessly from his perch, the musty curtain falling heavily back to its original position. He tiptoed down the short hallway and slipped into his room. But before he could close the door, Slipknot left the washracks.
The older mech froze in the doorway, then jerked farther back into the room, his optics widening. His armour flared slightly, and Prowl felt his surprise flick across his field.
"What the frag?" Slip looked confused. "Where the pit have you been?"
Prowl smiled slightly, lowering his optics to study his pedes. "I've been here the whole time." He replied quietly.
"Whatever." Slipknot cycled his optics, shaking his helm, then he spun on his heel and strode to the door, pushing Prowl out of his way. "Come on, I've got some errands to run for the boss." He grunted.
Grinning from audio to audio Prowl trotted after him as they left the dingy apartment.
Bouncing in Slipknot's cab as his foster creator lurched over the rough road, Prowl watched out the windows, his quick wash had only smeared them instead of cleaning them off, making it even harder to see out.
The storefronts, covered with bars to keep robbers from breaking in, the life slowly draining from them, transitioned into decrepit buildings, long abandoned and condemned by the city. Sunlight shone through the broken glass and holes in the buildings, cleansing the empty rooms within. A few blocks past the last abandoned apartment building, crumbling slowly to the ground, an old dilapidated structure squatted in an empty lot.
Prowl couldn't help but smile slightly at the greying sign, picture long since faded. The pocketed words were hard to read, but he knew what it said: 16 West. In better days, the venue may have been a nice restaurant or bar… But that was long ago. Now, the walls still stood, even if they leaned tiredly in, and the roof didn't leak too badly, just sagged sadly under the weight of its years.
Slipknot stopped at the curb and Prowl jumped out before the older mech could push him out. A slight breeze took away the rotting stench of this dreary section of Iacon, leaving only a fresh, clean scent behind. The youngling was quickly at the heavy door where a large mech waited, holding it open for him, before Slipknot even finished transforming. The bouncer smiled slightly down at the little youngling, his armour relaxed. Even though he sported several deep scars in his heavy armor, he looked less threatening to Prowl than many other mechs he'd met. "Git ya to th' bar. Keeps lookin' for ya." his sharp red optics hardening to steel as he glared at the adult following Prowl, and stepped back into the dark room behind him allowing the door to fall shut. He grinned widely, flashing sharp teeth as the heavy door slammed shut in Slipknot's faceplates, leaving him to curse outside.
Slipknot threw the door open and snarled his engine at the bouncer, careful not to appear too threatening, as he followed Prowl into the bar. He paused for a click, as his optics adjusted to the dimly light room. Prowl had already trotted to the bar and fearlessly crawled up into a tall chair, his little doorwings flaring to help his balance. Beside him sat a dark purple, almost black mech in the dim lighting, scarred armour and hard red optics which speared Slipknot before turning back to the youngling. Slipknot snorted as he walked to the barstool beside Prowl.
"Gimme some high grade," he said, sneering down at the youngling. The large mass of the other patron shifted a tiny bit as he ran his optics over Slipknots frame, before completely disregarding him. The bartender lurched over, handing Slipknot a cube full of hazy high grade.
His lip lifted into a sneer as he took it, and turned to walk into the darkness beyond, completely disregarding the youngling.
"Afthole." The bar keeper growled as he shoved a cube of low grade at Prowl, sparkling in the dim lighting.
Prowl smiled up at him, taking the cube in both hands. "Thank you." he replied politely, as he sipped it. The lovely scent of fresh low grade filled his nasal sensors. A slight frown graced his lips as his brow furrowed, his processor yanked back to the problem of getting Slipknot to sign anything.
The other patron, sitting quietly next to him ran his red optics over the slight frame of the little black and white Praxian seated next to him. The dents and scrapes on the lightweight armour pulled close, his dull paint did not reflect even the dim light in the bar as a healthy youngling's armour would.
He shot a look at the bar keeper as he took a sip of his high grade. The old mech jerked his helm with a sharp nod. "He just showed up one day." He grunted. "With him in tow." He looked over at Prowl, who was frowning as he played with his cube, watching the pretty fluid roll around.
"What's bothering ya?" The bar keeper carefully cleaned a used energon cube, wiping it down with one towel before switching to a soft, clean towel for a final wipe down before putting it with others on a shelf under the bar.
Prowl's doorwings trembled, sinking low on his back. "The school gave me something for Slipknot to sign, but I don't think he will." He replied, optics lowering to the scuffed but clean bar top. He traced a particularly deep scratch in the bar the a digit tip, briefly wondering what had caused it.
"What is it for?" The strange mech sitting beside him rumbled, softening his field as he brushed it gently against the youngling.
Prowl shuffled his cube around in his hands and he looked up to meet the stranger's red optics before quickly dropping them again. "It's… um.. A free cube at lunch at school." He mumbled.
"Hmmm." The stranger shared a glance with the bar keeper. "Tell you what, you fill in all the important parts, and I'll sign it for him."
Prowl jerked his helm up to stare at mech beside him, doorwings flaring up and out, waving, "But that's not right!"
Snickering into his cube of high grade, the stranger waved for Prowl to get moving. Frowning, Prowl pulled the data pad from his subspace and turned it out. The dark purple mech leaned back with a sharp vent. Scowling even more, he ran a light scan over the youngling.
Feeling an odd tingling, Prowl looked up, only to see the older mech scowling darkly at him. He cringed back, quickly looking down to his hands, as his doorwings fell. "I'm sorry." he whispered.
"Why?" the mech carefully modulated his voice as the youngling cringed before him.
"I'm not mad at you," he said, extending his field once again to encompass the youngling, optics still dark with the disapproval that he did not allow to enter his field.
"Prowl," the lilting tones of the femme startled them both.
"Good evening, Vibes," the Praxian youngling replied politely, looking up at the brightly colored femme who settled on his other side, a sharp blade to protect him from other customers of the bar as they filed in.
The mech beside Prowl inspected the brightly colored femme. She caught his optic and smiled flirtatiously. "I take it you two know each other?" he rumbled
"We're neighbors - " Prowl began, before a heavy hand on his shoulder interrupted him. Startled, Prowl leaned back, into the purple mech's side. Vibes growled slightly at the intruder who pushed his way in between them.
"Slipknot wants you," the new mech stated, before ordering high grade, his yellow plating dark in the dim lighting.
Prowl carefully placed the finished data pad on the bar and resealed his cube of low grade. Swiftly he slipped away and disappeared into the darkness beyond, followed by the yellow mech.
Vibes casually slid over, settling her hip on Prowl's chair and smiled at the stranger as she picked up Prowl's cube, sealing it further by placing her thumb over the cover.
"Come here often?" She purred at the mech, smiling warmly at him.
"Often enough," he answered, his optics warming as he studied her… and changed to approving as his optics drifted down to her hand. Waving at the bar keeper, he ordered them both another drink. Vibes smiled and leaned forward to take the cube of high grade with her free hand, Prowl's cube of low grade pulled close to her side.
Several klicks later Prowl slipped up beside Vibes and looked up at her, doorwings raised questioningly. She smiled down at him, and stepped away from his seat, setting his cube down carefully beside his data pad.
"What's that?" She asked, nodding at it.
"It's to sign me up for a free cube at school lunch," Prowl replied as the dark purple mech picked it up and scrolled to the bottom.
"What's your sire's designation?" he queried.
Prowl scowled deeply at his words. "He's not my sire." He snapped with a dark glare at the older mech, "Slipknots my guardian." His scowl deepened as he considered the mech in the limited lighting of the bar.
Humming softly to himself, he picked up the data pad and signed Slipknot's name glyph before he handed the pad back to Prowl with a flourish.
Prowl inspected it before subtly slipping it back into his subspace. The stranger narrowed his optics, drawing in a sharp vent as he pretended not to see.
Prowl had just looked up, startled by the soft sound beside him to lock optics with the stranger as Vibes leaned in from the other side, oblivious to their silent communication when a loud crunch followed by a dark chuckle came from behind them.
Prowl immediately tensed, leaning into the soothing field beside him.
"That's disgusting." Vibes commented drily, as she turned to scowl at the smirking bouncer.
The bar keeper passed a pan over the bar, "That's another one for you," he said.
"Nuh uh." shaking his helm at him, the huge scarred grey mech carefully scraped the glitch mouse off his pede and floor. "Eleven."
"Now how do you figure that?" the bar keeper snarked. "There's not enough left there for there to be eleven."
The purple almost black mech beside Prowl snorted and said, "Looks like only one."
"Glitch mice are always carrying. I got 11 with one step."
Vibes rolled her optics. "Primus," she groaned, disgust lacing her field.
Prowl just stared at the two arguing mechs, his lips pursed and a crease on his forehead. His doorwings, which had frozen were now flicking again. He felt the amusement laced field beside him, and when Vibes leaned back away from the remains, he could feel her disgust mirroring his.
Slipknot staggered up then from his lair deep in the belly of the bar, snarling, "We're leaving," as he jerked his helm toward the door where one of his associates, the yellow mech named Swindle, lounged against the wall.
A heavy hand pressed into Prowl's thin shoulder plating, pinning him in his chair.
"You're overcharged." stated the other mech. "You're in no shape to be transporting a youngling." His hand effectively kept Prowl in place.
Prowl whimpered and tried to wiggle free, his optics warily watching his unstable guardian.
"Wha' do you expect me to do with him, then?" snapped Slipknot. "I guess he can walk home then." he shrugged in dismissal and turned to leave, disregarding the disapproval from the others.
Prowl unconsciously whimpered as Slipknot left him behind without a backward glance.
Venting heavily, the big mech stared darkly after him for a click, before turning to Vibes and handed her a credstick.
"Is this enough?" He queried.
She cycled her optics at the amount. "To do what?" she asked suspiciously as she raised her chin and frowned at him, her other fist planted on her hip.
"Take the youngling home. Put him to bed, and stay home. Get off the street for the night. Get him to school on time tomorrow."
She stared. "Yes." she finally answered, quietly. "But what do you want?"
"Nothing."
Her optics flashed, her scowl deepened. Prowl looked from one to the other, optics wide.
"Vibes."
She turned her helm to the old bar keeper, where he leaned casually on the bar in front of them.
"It's ok. I know what he is. You can trust him."
Vibes gave them both a long, intense stare. "Come on, Prowl." she waggled the credstick at him. "We're leaving now. If I'm getting the night off, I'm going to make the most of it."
Prowl's little doorwings framed his helm with shock as he slid from his chair. "But, why?"
"Don't ask," Vibes interrupted. "Just say thank you and let's go." She held out her hand to take his and led him from the bar.
Check background, mech designation Slipknot.
He's been picked up, driving while intoxicated… keeping him overnight.
Good. Check youngling, designation Prowl. Guardian: Slipknot. Attending school in the area. Link to file, Slipknot.
Description?
Black and white, Praxian frame type. Notify Youngling Protective Services. Observed use of subspace.
Frag me. In a youngling?!
Affirmative. Locate and detain. Shield and protect, he is in danger.
Understood. Out.
The big mech remained stationary for several more clicks, his vents ghosting in the crisp air of the night. He finally drove away, back into the bright lights of the rowdy city. He had work to do.
