Disclaimer: Transformers; do not own. His Dark Materials/Golden Compass; do not own.
Summary: Semi-crossover; oneshot series. Miles; Sam and Mikaela are incredibly wary of Prowl, and Miles knows that it is because of their dæmons' intense hatred and fear of Barricade.
After
Miles
It had been a couple of months since Mission City. There was still a government frenzy going on in the background, covering up the fact that they were not alone in the universe, and there were still plenty of questions and too little answers. Things were starting to get exciting. Prowl's group, which consisted of Red Alert, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bluestreak, and Prowl himself, had recently arrived on Earth.
The humans were very curious to see the twins. From what Jazz had told them, it was among the closest things that Autobots had to humans and their dæmons.
None of the humans saw the forced cheer at which Jazz said the words. They would have asked him about it, but how could he have told them about the half-sparks?
But soon, curiosity turned to exasperation and something that bordered disgust. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe weren't friendly towards the humans; none of the Autobots, even Optimus, expected them to be at first. But they were surprised at the degree of almost hostility they showed. Sideswipe had taken on Sunstreaker's usual surly countenance when the humans entered the room with their dæmons always by their side, and Sunstreaker attained a whole new level of don't-come-near-me-or-I-will-squish-you.
However, the humans weren't concerning themselves over the twins. It was mutual indifference; they would act as though the twins were not in the room, and the twins would act likewise. It was tense, but peaceful, as long no one in either party had to talk to one another.
Not exactly an ideal relationship, but where the twins were concerned, you kind of had to be happy with what you got.
No, all the humans, right down to Miles, weren't happy with the twins, but it was Prowl who had, somehow, earned their collective wariness, and Mikaela's downright hatred.
Miles couldn't really approve of her hatred, but Delaney couldn't blame her. Not after a certain run-in with a certain 'con.
In Miles' opinion, the situation was further worsened by the fact that the Autobots refused to talk to them about it.
They were in the Autobot rec room. Miles, Sam, Mikaela, and Bumblebee were present. They had just spent a good five minutes of tense silence as Prowl came in for a break in-between shifts, drinking his energon cube slowly while reviewing data pads. He probably got the idea that he wasn't welcome, because he excused himself and then went away.
Miles hated to admit it, but, as he watched the stoic tactician go, he kind of felt relieved…and ashamed. He held Delaney tighter to his heart, and she smoothed out his shirt comfortingly.
"So…" Sam said to Bumblebee. He was sitting down on the table before his guardian, somewhere near his arm, with Tristanne's head and forepaws on his knee and Mikaela sitting beside him. Though Sam had spoken in an easy-going, casual tone, Miles noticed that Tristanne was not purring. On the contrary, her muscles were tensed, and her fur was raised, and she kept getting out of her position, walking in a tight circle around Sam and Mikaela and Adair, looking around, before settling in again.
Mikaela wasn't looking up. She was saying something softly to her dæmon, who was hiding his tension just a little bit better than Tristanne. He mirrored Tristanne's pose, with his head and forepaws on the knee of his human, but he remained in that position while Tristanne paced anxiously, coming up to him every so often to give him a comforting lick before returning to Sam. His eyes were half-closed, and he was doing that low-growly thing that he did when Mikaela really felt like hitting something.
"Yes, Sam?" Bumblebee said in the same light tone, though he had doubtless noticed his charges' distress.
"Ah…well…" Tristanne rubbed her head against his thigh, and he put a hand on her tawny head. With his other hand, he made a nervous gesture in the air.
"You said that twins were rare in Cybertron, right?" Mikaela said tightly, looking up at Bumblebee. Her arms were clamped around her dæmon, and Adair's growl became a little bit more audible.
"He better not lie to them," Miles muttered. He was on the same table that Bumblebee was sitting at, but a little to the side, making a show of trying to put together…something. He and Delaney didn't quite know what they were putting together, but that they would know the exact moment when it was finished.
"If he does, he'll make things worse," Delaney said in his arms.
"Yes. Complete spark-splitting is a rare occurrence," Bumblebee answered.
"Complete?" Delaney repeated, catching onto the word. But none of the other dæmons noticed Bumblebee's strange specificity.
"Well…"
Miles sighed, and Delaney made a quiet sound of frustration. "They're never going to ask," Delaney told him. "We better do it."
"Is Prowl a twin?" Miles asked loudly. He blushed, and Delaney turned her face away, when all eyes and optics in the room turned to him. "Sorry," Miles said quietly. "That came out a lot louder than I wanted it to."
There was a pause. "No." Bumlbebee said finally. Sam and Mikaela clung to their dæmons, whose distress had reached a peak level. Miles looked away.
"Big mistake," Miles muttered to Delaney.
"But he probably wanted to protect Prowl."
"Just makes us even more nervous. If he told the truth, then at least it's out in the open. No more of this skulking behind the shadows thing."
"Just wish he'd spit it out."
Then Delaney tensed, seeing something, and Miles knew that Prowl was just outside the rec room door.
"He heard everything," Delaney said quietly.
"Probably," Miles whispered back. "But there's nothing we can do about that."
Miles and Sam were going to do a movie marathon that night. Since Mikaela's parents were out on a second honeymoon, her house was pretty empty, and she asked to join them. Bumblebee was supposed to join them too, but then he came up to them later that day and told them that Prowl was assigned as their temporary guardian until Bumblebee could join them. Apparently, Bumblebee had been called away on a scouting mission.
By the way that Tristanne was rubbing herself anxiously against Sam and the way that Adair was growling in Mikaela's arms again, Miles knew that Sam and Mikaela weren't buying the lie. He tried to keep Delaney still, so that at least one of them would give off an impression of calm.
However, even though they had their unreasonable misgivings, all three of them knew that it was Bumblebee's silent plea for them all to get along.
Later that night, Sam and Mikaela were asleep, curled up on Miles' couch with the television still tuned into a bad monster flick. Miles was resting against Sam's other side. On the floor in front of the couch, their dæmons were lying with one another. Delaney was sandwiched between the forepaws of the cougar and the jaguar dæmon.
Prowl was outside, in Miles' driveway, taking a temporary form of a civilian Saleen. He'd turn back to his cruiser form once he delivered them to Bumblebee in the morning.
"It's not fair," Miles said.
"No. But there are reasons," Delaney said. "After all, it wasn't me under Barricade's claw."
Miles had nothing to say to that. Mikaela would have been wary of Prowl already, but the fact that Barricade just—just—did that to Adair…It was too sick to think about.
"Sam's a good guy," Miles said, and Delaney gently stroked Tristanne's fur. "And I'm sure that he'd give Prowl a chance, even if Barricade scares the hell out of him…for Bumblebee, at least. Just that, he's stuck in between loyalties here."
"So I guess it's up to good old us to play peacemaker."
"Yep."
"It must be painful," Delaney said after awhile.
"It must be like your own dæmon hating you," Miles answered. He shuddered, and she wriggled herself free from her companions and crawled into his lap. "Must be lonely," he said absently.
She looked at him, leaped off, and scampered to the door. He followed.
"Good evening," Prowl said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Why are you not recharging?"
"Because…I…kinda wanted to talk to you," Miles said, rushing the last few words. Delaney jumped into his arms.
"About?"
Here was his opportunity. Still, he couldn't come right out and say it. He had to segue smoothly into it.
"Are you and Barricade twins?"
Whoops.
Prowl was silent. Delaney started to whimper.
"I'm sorry," Miles muttered, going red. "I'll just—just—" he turned to go inside the house.
"Yes," Prowl said quietly. So quietly that Miles nearly didn't hear him. "Yes, we are."
"Oh." That was all he could say.
"You…are able to sense the bond between us?" Prowl asked carefully.
"Yeah…yeah, we all can. We can sense it through our dæmons. It's kind of like sensing the bond between a person and his dæmon. It's something that is, you know?"
Prowl was silent.
"It's kind of the reason why we've been avoiding you," he confessed. Delaney clung tightly to him, and both of them could feel each other's distress at what Miles was going to say—what he needed to say. "It's 'cuz we—and our dæmons, especially—can sense Barricade in you."
"I am not my brother," Prowl said firmly.
"No," Miles said, and Delaney whimpered in pity for this being. "No, you're not."
"Why are you telling me this?" Prowl asked, and Miles detected a hint of curiosity—and perhaps hope—in his tone.
"Just to tell you…to tell you that I'm not afraid anymore," Miles said, surprised by the boldness in his words. Delaney straightened in his arms.
"Thank-you, Miles," Prowl said finally.
Miles coughed uncomfortably, and Delaney jumped on his shoulder, wrapping her tail around his neck. He sat down on the front steps, regarding the Autobot in his driveway.
"Why a Saleen Mustang though?" he asked, hoping that Prowl didn't take it the wrong way. "I mean, of all the alt-forms…do you know that you scared the hell out of Sam when you first drove into the Autobot base? I swear, his dæmon jumped fifteen feet in the air…"
"It is the official model for police cruisers in Tranquility," Prowl answered. "To choose another form would draw too much attention." There was a pause, and then he said, "I did not realize that Barricade had chosen the same form…I apologize if the form is unsettling to you and to your companions."
"Nah, I'm good, and they'll get over it," Miles said easily. "Still, it would be more people-friendly if you chose another form, you know?"
"Could you give me an example?"
"Like a segway—you know, like at the mall." Delaney gave a nod of approval.
There was a pause, and the boy and his dæmon looked around curiously, because for some odd reason, there a faint noise of whirs and clicks and clangs pervaded the air.
"I do not think so, Miles," Prowl said evenly as the noises subsided.
Miles and Delaney looked at each other, and shrugged. Maybe the noises meant nothing.
"Why not? Authority, combined with friendliness, with a smidgen of hilarity. I think it'd make you more approachable-looking."
"Well," Prowl said, and the noises started again. Miles and Delaney looked around confusedly. "There are many things unacceptable with that form. Firstly, it cannot accommodate my size—"
"You can be a fifty-story tall one," Miles pointed out, quite adamant about the idea.
"Even though, I must—" The noises increased deafeningly now, and stopped abruptly.
"What was that?" Miles asked, looking at Delaney.
"Don't know," Delaney answered. "But it sounded like something was in great pain."
"Prowl? Prowl?" Miles asked, trying to get the now silent Autobot's attention.
Silence.
Miles and Delaney could feel each other's nervousness. She jumped off of Miles and approached Prowl.
Prowl didn't move.
"I think we might have broken his brain," Delaney whispered.
Quietly, Miles picked up his dæmon and went inside the house to call Ratchet.