Upon entering his quarters, Prowl waited until the door was completely closed before relaxing. He lingered in the doorway, basking in the tranquil environment that only his private quarters could offer. Through careful maneuvering he'd managed to make it to his quarters without further incident. Now he could enjoy that soothing recharge he'd been thinking about since medbay.
"So you didn't kill him. I was wondering what would happen."
Alarmed by the unknown intruder in his quarters, Prowl whirled around to find Jazz standing in the corner closest to his berth. "What are you doing here?" demanded Prowl, his sharp tone belying his exhaustion. He wasn't in the mood for one of Jazz's games.
"I'm waiting for Blaster so we can go clubbing," Jazz replied in a sardonic voice. "I wanted to talk to you and I figured this was the only place you'd come where Ratchet, Prime, Sideswipe, or Megatron couldn't interrupt us."
"You do recall that the last time you decided to wait for me by hiding in my quarters, we were interrupted by Megatron? Now that I think it, I'm surprised I wasn't tackled this time." Prowl gave Jazz a pointed look.
"Megatron's been beat, and so have you. Ratchet would strangle me if I did much more than cause your pistons to pump faster. Judging by how you practically jumped just now, I'm figuring that me saying hi in your own quarters was enough to achieve those kind of results."
"Well you succeeded, so you can leave now."
"You're wrong if you think that was all I'm after." Almost predatorily, Jazz stepped out of the corner and closer to Prowl, an intense look emitting from his visor.
Instinctively Prowl took a step back and almost collided with the door as he fought to suppress the nervous feeling that Jazz's actions were creating. "How did you know I was even out of medbay? I didn't notify you, Ratchet hadn't informed you by the time I left, and the only mech I saw was Sideswipe. If Ratchet had told you about my departure after I left then you shouldn't have been able to finish whatever you were doing and arrive here before me."
"Well you're right about one thing – Ratchet didn't hail me. I hailed him – and for the hundredth time, I swear. After he was able to stabilize your systems, he wasn't interested in putting up with me anymore, so he had Wheeljack stand guard with some freaky-looking toy. About three breems ago I hailed him again to ask if you were finally free and he said that you were, but I was to leave you alone. Apparently you had some suffering to do on your own?" Jazz paraphrased Ratchet's earlier comment, completely confused by the medic's choice in words.
At Prowl's faint doorwing twitch, a sign of annoyance among Praxians, Jazz decided to continue on without asking for an explanation. There would be time for that later. "I was on my way to spread some of my disappointment onto Sideswipe, but I saw the two of you talking. I figured I'd let you two hash it out so I could beat you here."
"I see. Sideswipe mentioned that you were going out of your way to make his life miserable."
"Yeah, well I had to do something during the couple of joors between being kicked out and when I finally found out you were released." The intensity in Jazz's expression softened somewhat as he thought back to that moment of relief when Ratchet kicked him out, ending the torturous joors of not knowing if his close friend was dying.
"I waited outside of medbay while you were being operated on. I didn't know what had happened to you, let alone had a clue what the outcome would be. After Ratchet told me that you were fine I asked if he could tell me what happened, but he refused. I figure whatever happened was more than a typical crash or even a system failure. It's not like Ratchet to pull doctor-patient confidentiality for every bump, scratch, and dent."
"No, I suppose not." The tired SIC resisted sighing. It made sense that Jazz would realize the severity of an issue if Ratchet would actually refuse to rant to others about it. Usually Ratchet used injured mechs as a warning to others. "I'm sorry for the trouble it caused you. Perhaps later I will elaborate some, if you are still concerned by then."
"No, I won't be concerned later. Mainly because I've run out of patience and I'm not going to wait until later to find out." The intensity in Jazz's voice returned, leaving no doubt that the strong-willed mech would not leave the issue alone. His posture said just as much.
"Lately it seems like waiting has given me nothing but trouble and missed opportunities, and I'm tired of the chase," the annoyed Porsche stated. "I waited before the attack only to be interrupted by said Decepticon attack. I blew off talking about the attack when we were in medbay together, and then I didn't see you again for several orns – where we were interrupted by Sideswipe and you crashed. As far as I'm concerned, there is no later; there's only now."
Still feeling tired, Jazz's confrontational words and demeanor only spurred an angry response from Prowl. "You may think that demanding to speak to me without considering my opinion would cause the effect you want, but I am too worn out to put up with this. Leave or I will have security escort you out."
"Slag security and slag your nap!" snapped the short-tempered Jazz, taking Prowl by surprise. Taking a few more steps forward to close most of the gap between the two, Jazz glared into Prowl's optics. "You have no idea what was running through my head when we alone in your office and you were bleeding on the floor with almost no response! Nor do you have any concept of what kind of ideas were running through my head when you were in medbay!
"Do you know what the end result of the last time I saw something like that happen was? An officer I knew once keeled over like you did and he died. Some of the other officers claimed that his deactivation was caused by a strained processor, and depending on how you look at it, they're right. Because of all the strain he put his processor through it wasn't able to register a nasty Decepticon virus before it stopped his energon pump. I'm not gonna let this go, no matter how unhappy you are about it because I don't ever want to go through that again." Jazz's visor flared up as a sign of his determination.
Unaware about Jazz's past experience, Prowl immediately felt guilty and apologized for the panic he put his friend through. "I'm sorry, I had no idea that you went through something like that before with an unfortunate end."
"I know you didn't. I didn't tell you because I figured you'd blow it off, telling me that you had precautions installed or whatever. Did you ever wonder why I was so damn adamant about you taking all those breaks? It wasn't just because I wanted to spend time with you, but because I could see you heading down that same path." Jazz closed the remaining gap between them and reached out to grasp Prowl's arm, giving him a firm but friendly squeeze. "Even if the Decepticons never get their hands on the materials needed to create another virus like that one, there's plenty of other ways to be deactivated – more if you aren't operating at your best."
Prowl looked down at Jazz's hand before glancing back at the saboteur's frown, the kindness in his friend's touch almost undermined the intensity burning from Jazz's visor. Prowl spoke as the memory was brought up from the familiar sight. "It seems like we're beginning to head down the same path again, the one from before Megatron's attack. You held onto my arm while confronting me on a matter that bothered you. It's strange to think that wasn't too long ago, with everything that's happened. It seems like a lifetime ago, but it was hardly two Earth months."
"I remember," murmured Jazz. "We were cut off after I asked you if you didn't really trust me enough to talk about what was bothering you. You said that you had been open with me, but I've thought about that moment since then. Maybe you consider our conversation to be open, but you've been so closed off for such a long time that I think you don't quite know what being open or vulnerable really is anymore. Telling me about the orns that Sideswipe makes you want to put his head through a wall or when you find it difficult to be around an exceptionally-needy Bluestreak may be something you consider vulnerable because you don't want anyone else to hear it, but that's not being vulnerable.
"Being vulnerable means telling someone about your fears and dreams. It also means talking things through to deal with pain no matter how much crap you've got. Prowl, I want you to talk to me. You haven't talked to anyone about all the stuff that's happened to you in these past few decaorns and it has to be eating you up inside."
Carefully Prowl looked into Jazz's glowing visor as he considered his once-estranged friend's words. There was a lot on his mind about what had happened over the past several decaorns and sometimes he felt like his life was being drained away. The pain hadn't stopped despite his best efforts and Prowl was at a loss how to handle even the most rudimentary items for him, including that report his logic center generated after the attack. That report still weighed heavily on his mind because it was a reminder that he might falter should he let anyone past his guard, especially some like Jazz, who had an effect on him. His personal sense of security relied very heavily on him minimizing unnecessary situations, like non-work-related interaction.
"I'll be fine, Jazz. As the saying goes, time heals all wounds." Prowl casually responded as he pulled away and walked towards his simple living room.
"You and I both know that saying is crap." Despite Prowl's detached demeanor, Jazz followed the tactician until the stoic mech sat down in one of his soft chairs. Jazz moved around the short, plain metallic table in favor of sitting on the arm of the chair beside the Datsun. Prowl could not ignore him at this proximity. "Being in a war as long as we have, we've seen mechs with wounds on top of the scar tissue of other wounds. I bet you know a great example or two proving that from your own past," Jazz pointed out as he nudged Prowl's leg with his ped.
Ignoring the annoyed expression on Prowl's face, Jazz prepared himself to say what was on his mind, knowing that Prowl would disagree and even resist. "Prowl, you need to let someone in so that maybe your own scar tissue will stop growing. I want you to be able to talk to me about whatever, whenever. And not just about the little stuff but the stuff that makes you want to rip out your own chevron. Keeping everything inside does put a strain on you even if you don't believe it because you feel fine. The perpetually sick forget what it feels like to be healthy, and you're no different. You need to take time out and relax if you want a chance in the world to undo all the damage from the crap you've been through. I would never tell the other troops what's bothering you and you know that. It's why you talked to me in the past."
Prowl listened carefully to Jazz's request that Prowl talk about his problems instead of hide them. However, rather than feeling happy at the offer as the Third-in-Command was probably hoping for, Prowl felt more like distancing himself from the saboteur. Unfortunately for him, Prowl knew that Jazz wouldn't easily settle for anything less than what he wanted. "Jazz, this isn't something where I can suddenly be a different mech and open up to you like Bluestreak can."
"I wasn't expecting that much, Prowl. I'm sure you don't want to talk about what's happened over the past few orns, but maybe you could tell me more about that Decepticon we met? He seemed to know you." Jazz knew that asking a direct question about what had happened to Prowl would push the stubborn mech away. Undoubtedly, Prowl would tell Jazz the least-personal things about that Decepticon, but Jazz could work with that.
Thinking back to those orns when he knew Conex – or ConAir, as he had referred to himself as – Prowl took a few moments to ponder what he should tell Jazz. Did Jazz even remember the name of the mech he'd mentioned in the Praxian park back when they were practically just sparklings? After some length of time Prowl finally spoke. "Do you remember that orn when you found me in the park back in Praxus? Do you recall the conversation we had?"
"Yeah, a mech was bothering you because he didn't like who you. He wanted you to change. I think he was pretty mean about it too." Jazz fumbled a bit while he searched through his memory for that very old conversation.
"Did I ever tell you his name?"
"Uh, no?" Jazz tried keeping the uncertainty out of his voice. No name came to mind, but there would undoubtedly be holes in his memory of a very old conversation.
"Well that was him – or at least that Decepticon we met was sparked from him."
Jazz's optics widened behind his visor. "Wait, I think you did tell me his name. Borex? Corex? No, umm… Conex! I remember now. That was him in the cavern? What happened? It never sounded as if things ended bad enough to put your life in danger, but maybe I missed something?" Worried that he might have overlooked something critical, Jazz wanted to reach over and give Prowl's hand a squeeze but he refrained. He knew he was already pushing Prowl to his limits of personal interaction, and physical contact might make Prowl uncomfortable.
"No, you didn't miss anything, Jazz. Apparently he was involved in a secret program, which was actually controlled by Decepticons, and it led to his insanity. What you saw there was a violent magnification of what it was really like so long ago."
"Oh." After Jazz realized that was all Prowl planned to say about the matter, he decided to be more direct. "What was it like, running into him again, especially after he changed so much?"
"It was painful." Although Prowl intended to leave it at his cavalier comment, he looked into his companion's optics and found them somehow radiating concern beneath that visor. It wasn't a reaction he was used to and it left Prowl feeling uneasy. "It was very painful, both during and after the attack." Prowl added, his admission barely audible. He turned his face away as his discomfort rose.
When Prowl spoke the first time Jazz nearly snapped back at the mech for giving him an insulting answer, but when his friend spoke again Jazz realized that Prowl meant more than the physical trauma. "What did he say to you?"
'He mocked my life, reminding me that I was weak and how I never had anyone to depend on, leaving me alone most of my life.' Prowl silently answered. Despite knowing the answer to Jazz's question, Prowl just could bring himself to say it out load completely. "He behaved almost possessively while displaying a lot of aggression when it came to his questions regarding my opinions on mechs like him."
"Was he always possessive?"
"Not to the extreme you saw, but yes."
"Why did you put up with that?"
"Jazz…" Prowl began as the anxiety from before returned. "I was being honest before when I said I felt secure around you, but there are some things that I don't want to revisit."
"Yeah, and I told you that I wasn't going to go away regardless how difficult things get. I won't let you suffer through this alone. If you never deal with what's bothering you, then you'll never make it right. Time doesn't always heal wounds or make the memories hurt any less." Jazz wanted Prowl to know how sincere he was but the only idea his processor came up with was to slide into Prowl's chair and hold him. Although his spark fluttered at the idea, Jazz wasn't sure what he wanted with Prowl, at least not explicitly. Instead, he decided to indulge himself by taking Prowl's hand and giving it a loose squeeze.
"Why do you care so much?" No one had ever pushed Prowl this hard to be allowed into his inner-most thoughts, not even his own family.
"Because I care about you." Jazz set Prowl's hand back down and his fingers brushed lightly past Prowl's palm, causing the sensors in his hand to almost resonate. "I don't want to see you hurting and I know that's what's happening. I'm not going away because I want to help you find some peace, whatever it may be. I told you I would be your friend forever back in the park, and I meant it. I don't take friendship lightly.
"Prowl, if you think I'll judge you because of something you're ashamed or angry about, you're wrong. During the time that I've known you, I've learned that one of the greatest mistakes is to judge. You have far too many layers to you – way more layers than most of the mechs here! Only an idiot would be quick to form an opinion. So please tell me." Jazz pleaded, trying to be somewhat open himself so that Prowl might follow suit.
His attempt to encourage Prowl into talking more openly about something unpleasant succeeded as the distressed tactician considered Jazz's words. With great difficulty, Prowl answered Jazz's question about his past life. "I was alone during those orns, before the academy. I didn't make many friends and my family had expectations of me that I found… frustrating. I didn't know what to do about them so I pushed others away to keep from slipping up. Conex was the first mech who appeared to have a genuine interest in me. It was the first time I ever did anything that you might describe as 'fun.'" A faint smile appeared on Prowl's face as the memories of the early times in that relationship flashed by. During his struggles to remake his identity after they moved, Prowl had found what he thought was acceptance in Conex's companionship.
"But as time went on, he started to act differently. He started to treat me differently. He said things that hurt, and sometimes did things that hurt as well. I would ask him to stop and he would after apologizing. We spent a lot of time together, either alone or with his friends. Despite having its rough patches, it was the first time that I felt as if I fit somewhere, as if I had a place.
"But as time went on, he didn't stop the callous remarks, no matter what I said. I tried doing things that would bring back the mech I fell for, but I wasn't successful. We stopped seeing each other after a particularly bad fight. Later I found out that I had lost all my friends by breaking up with him because everyone I had befriended preferred spending time with him. He could be charismatic and spontaneous, whereas I could not. I was alone again after all of my friends sided with him. Some of them even painted me out as a crazy mech when they told others about what had happened. All of my friendships, my identity, even the things I took pleasure in were shattered and I'd realized how foolish I'd been."
Taken back by Prowl's honesty about something so painful, Jazz's fury erupted and burned his circuits. Ideas poured into Jazz's mind of what he should've done to make that Decepticon suffer. However, Jazz managed to squash his fury for the sake of the mech before him. "Primus, Prowl, I'm so sorry." Pressed by an urge to show Prowl companionship, Jazz leaned forward and wrapped his hands tightly around Prowl's. "You weren't foolish; you were young and you were already hurting by the time you met the first mech that genuinely seemed to care for you. Why didn't you tell me? If I had known…"
"You wouldn't have. The majority of this happened when you returned to Polyhex to prepare for the academy. Conex had been the only mech I confided in before our careers and he threw it all back in my face." Prowl pulled away from Jazz, remembering the sting of the betrayal from the first mech he'd ever trusted.
Determined to prove to Prowl that he could be trusted, Jazz slid off his chair and into the arm of Prowl's chair as he reached for Prowl. "Hey, I will never do that." Gently placing his hand on the side of Prowl's face, Jazz tugged it back towards his direction. "I'll never tell another soul and I won't ever use it against you. I could never forgive myself if I caused the pain in your optics."
The tension in Prowl's doorwings and shoulder struts immediately disintegrated upon hearing Jazz's assuring words. Without the tension building in his frame, Prowl was suddenly very aware of Jazz's proximity as well as his own tiredness. Weary from his earlier crash and the stress of saying aloud what he never could before, Prowl leaned forward and rested his helm against Jazz's. Between the contact and Jazz's light caress on his hand, along with the Porsche's support, Prowl's strained mind felt more at peace than it had in a long time.
Meanwhile, having been caught off guard by the unexpected contact from Prowl, Jazz's spark was fluttering almost uncontrollably. Both stayed still as they silently enjoyed the closeness of each other. As Jazz squeezed Prowl's hand a familiar smell drifted into his olfactory. "What's that scent?" he asked softly.
"What?" Prowl asked as he tried to keep from falling asleep.
"I can smell something really faint coming from your armor. It smells like the park from that orn?" Jazz tried figuring out what that scent was from, remembering how that same question from when he held Prowl after the attack had bothered him, but no ideas came to him.
"Oh that. It's the smell of the crystal plants from Praxus, among a few other plants native to my home city. Its part of the polish I was given just prior to the city's destruction, so I've diluted it with standard military polish to preserve what little I have."
"Oh that's why I thought it was familiar. Was it pretty standard polish in Praxus?"
"Why?"
"I remember the smell, I just don't remember where. I know I've smelled it several times after Praxus was destroyed." Jazz knew he had come across it before. Belatedly, he realized he should have put more thought into his query as Prowl's head abruptly pulled away, his optics glowing oddly.
"What are you talking about? You and I have never been physically close long enough for you to be aware of it, aside from our recent time on Earth. The only way you could have smelled it was if you were around someone whom my carrier gave it to, and she stopped doing that well before the destruction of Praxus. In fact, the only reason I have what I do now was because she made it one more time when I was promoted to SIC. Even Bluestreak and Smokescreen don't have any left. It was a very unique blend and it had been her family's secret mixture and neither my brothers nor I ever figured out how to make it. She was deactivated before she could teach us."
"Huh. Uh, maybe she gave it to some one else? Its not I haven't met or worked with a lot of others mechs."
"True, but she almost never left Praxus, so it would have to be a Praxian. Plus, for you to actually still remember it, you would've known the mech and probably spent quite a bit of time around him." As Prowl pointed out the connection between the polish and Jazz's memory his optics narrowed.
"In fact, I think she just about stopped making it all together when we moved while I was still a sparkling. She only made it afterwards when one of her sparklings went to the academy and then when we received promotions. You would have to have met a surviving Praxian mech or femme that my carrier knew prior to my first major upgrade. I don't need my logic center's assistance to know that statistically there's very few Praxians who would even have it in their possession after the destruction of Praxus, and no one can recreate it since the necessary ingredients were virtually all destroyed. In fact, given how hard it was to make, it would have to be very important to someone to manage to keep it around for longer than a vorn."
'Oh, shit.' Jazz cursed himself as the memories came to him from when he and Blacksmoke were pinned practically right on top of each other in a collapsed building for almost an orn. How was he to explain that his memories of the scent came from being once trapped with Prowl's sparker? Especially since their predicament had been caused by one of Prowl's plans falling apart, nearly resulting in their permanent deactivations? "Uh well, I worked with a few Praxians after the city's destruction. Perhaps your creator gave it to a special friend as a gift and they've recreated enough batches before Praxus was destroyed to make it last?"
"I doubt it. After one of her friends tried to do exactly what you just said she stopped giving it out as a gift to anyone outside of the family. So like I said before – there is statically onlya few mechs or femmes that could've even had it to begin with, and given how few of the Praxians survived our city's destruction, there isn't enough mechs for you to have been frequently around but not longer remember. In fact, the possibilities are even less because at least half of my carrier's coworkers were killed in an attack just prior to the war and prior to our move. Statistically, the odds are overwhelmingly small and I can only think of maybe three mechs that might have known her and be out of the city when it was destroyed. Who had it, Jazz?" Prowl demanded. When the empty expression on Jazz's face didn't change, Prowl's suspicion turned to anger and his doorwings flared back and his optics furthered narrowed. "I'm not kidding. I want to know who had that polish and I want you to tell me now."
If you don't recall, there was an attack on the Charger's work place when she took Prowl to work, causing a ton of Cybertronians to die and practically level the building.