Uff, I had planned on getting this published on the weekend but I forgot I had a retreat so I was gone for three days and couldn't work on this at all. Well here you have it! Did I promise cookies last chapt? Oh well, I have some anyway, you can have them casue I'm feeling very generous right now. (hands cookies to reviewers)

And I'm not even going to TALK about the evil bunnies... bothering me when I was supposed to be silent and praying grrrrr.

READ AND REVIEW!!

PLEASE!

Prowl felt himself floating in a dark void, his senses nonexistent. There was no sound, no smell, no light. His body felt light and numb. There was no cold or warmth. He was just... there.

Yet he felt content. No worries, no sense of time, where up or down were, no pain. Peaceful silence. He decided he liked this pitch black empty space. Where ever it may be. Relaxing, he leaned back in to it. He felt it's embrace, it's fortitude, and it's promise of safety.

Yet all things, even good, shall at one point come to an end.

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

The black veil suddenly lifted. His senses struck him like a truck hitting a car at full speed. At first it was too much to take in. Sounds mashed together, loud and incomprehensible. There was a powerful smell of anesthetics that burned his nose and throat. He was blinded by a powerful light that didn't give him the chance of opening them, leaving him clueless as to where he was. His body was heavy and stiff. Any movement made him uncomfortable, even if he tried to move only one finger.

"....-owl..."

He struggled through the blurry and echoing world. His senses were already stabilizing, but it was still not enough to grasp reality. He could clearly hear a voice next to him, though he wasn't sure what was being said or who it was by. A beeping echoing sound was somewhere to his left. After moments, or mere seconds (he couldn't really tell time yet), he decided that that sound was rather annoying and started to get frustrated.

He shook his head to stop the echoing ringing in his ears that were acting like an intervention between him and the real world.

"Prow...."

Finally, after one last struggle to 'awake', every thing fit into place. There were no more echoes, no more ringing, no more muffled sounds. Every noise just adjusted and he could hear the traffic on the streets far away, the rustling of the trees outside, the birds chirping, and voices coming from beyond his room and some coming from a speaker in a monotone way. His eyes were still closed as they tried to adjust to that bright light that came from his left. Whether it was artificial or natural he did not know yet.

He was confused by all the information he gained. The first detail that caught Prowl's attention was the clear knowledge that something wasn't right. First of all, even if it was very faint, he could feel a small annoyance throughout his body and he felt exhausted and with no desire whatsoever to move. The second thing, was that he just knew he wasn't in his bed, it being too big and the mattress a little too hard. That annoying beeping sound came back to him and he knew it wasn't his alarm clock. Two things clicked in that moment. One, that the room smelt like anesthetics, when it usually smelt like incense and the second thing, was that there was light pouring into his room, when it was usually so dark, even a cat would have trouble maneuvering in it. If that wasn't bad enough, the light shone right into his face. He realized that it was because of that that he felt blind. He squinted and by reflex tried to move his hand to cover his eyes only to feel it restrained and dead.

Immediately, his eyes shot open ignoring the light. He laid there for a few second trying to figure out where he was. The ceiling was white, too white for his taste. There was a large window to his right with no curtains, which explained the sudden abusive light. He could make out the outline of what he guessed were monitors. That's when he noticed his arm. It was being held by a blue band, that came down from one of the poles on the ceiling.

Blinking, he tried to sit up only to slump back down as realizing that apart from not wanting to move, and feeling exhausted, that even if he wanted to he had no strength whatsoever to do it and that any movement sent a small jolt of pain everywhere. He couldn't understand why his arm wasn't moving!

"Prowl!"

Surprised he turned his head slowly to the side and up to meet the worried gaze of a very familiar face.

"Ra- Ratchet?" He coughed various times and again was left perplexed as he heard his voice. Why was it hoarse? His throat felt as if it were on fire and it was dry. He could feel every movement the muscles there made. It wasn't a pleasant sensation. What the hell was going on?

Ratchet was standing over him with his usually brown pants, white shirt and medical coat on, a pen and a small flash light on his left pocket.

The medic let out a long, audible, tired sigh and ran one hand over his face, eyes closed. After a second, he let the hand drop to his side and leaned a little over the man on the bed. Prowl noticed the dark rings under his eyes. It was not like the medic never had them. But there was this thing with eye rings, the easy way of knowing what they signified at different times. You could always tell when the rings were there by working late, or when someone was drunk and hadn't slept thanks to the hangover that usually accompanied such state. And then there were the dark, dark rings that just let you know the person who had them had just gone through a very difficult ordeal and was emotionally tired.

Prowl frowned. The medic usually had that look when one of his patients died or when there was a disease to which he did not know the cure to. To have that look directed at him was a warning that he was not going to like at all the reason as to why it was there. And another thing that bothered him. Ratchet, was not yelling at him. Quite the contrary, he was being sensible, gentle and supportive... characteristics Prowl never imagined on the medic who usually yelled at you for being an idiot and getting yourself hurt and all that.

"Do you have any idea..." The medics soft words trailed off as his head dropped, eye contact lost. Drawing a long, deep breath that wavered at the end, Ratchet tried very hard to keep his emotions in check. He was close to a breakdown and suddenly, Prowl was scared. For Ratchet or himself was unclear.

"Ratch?" He inquired just as softly, his voice scratchy. It might not have been the best thing to do, as the condition his voice was in seemed to remind the medic of whatever it was that was troubling him.

"God, Prowl... " The medic started, voice firmer and louder, shaking his head and looking everywhere except him, as if searching for the right words.. "What the hell happened!" Anger. Pure anger and worry were hidden in his gruff and loud voice.

Prowl didn't know what to think anymore. He had no idea what was going on. He already knew he was in the hospital. Putting every piece together, the smell, the clearly hospital room, his right arm that was in a cast, he could feel the needle in his left hand feeding him with what he had no doubt had to be morphine or antibiotics or something like that, and the unusual behavior of the usual energetic and loud medic made him know, that he had been in a kind of accident and that he was probably in a very, very bad shape.

He knew it should have shocked him a bit more, but what was really bothering him is that he just could not remember what had happened! Coming to the obvious and logical conclusion that the best way to know was by asking, he cleared his throat.

"Wha- what happened?" He had to swallow many times after that simple sentence. He wanted water and he wanted it now! Too lost in his small desire, he missed the look of horror and dread cross the older medic's face.

"Prowl." He said desperately, touching the younger man's shoulder so the other would look at him. "You don't- wha- what's the last thing you remember?" Eyes wide, voice shaky, the younger man didn't know how to take it.

"I- I rememb- er that *cough**cough* I remember Jazz. And the part-*cough**cough* party. He had just been promoted. "

Ratchet took his hand off Prowl's shoulder and ran it over his face again, stopping at his mouth covering it, while his other turned into a fist. He shut his eyes tight and dragged in a sharp breath. It suddenly occurred to Prowl, that whatever accident he may have been in, there was always the possibility of him having short term memory. It was fairly common and usually presented itself in cases where the victim would hit his head. Judging by the his own appearance and the medics antics, his had been bad. He started to feel panic as he realized what this meant. One usually forgot hours, traumatized by the impact. Others could forget days... while others could forget months or even years.

"What- what happened? Wh- *cough**cough* how long have I...?"

Ratchet sighed again. Both arms falling limply to his side, setting himself straight he looked at Prowl dead in the eyes as serious as the young man had ever seen him.

He felt his blood freeze and muscles tense at the medics words. His eyes widened and suddenly, he didn't know what to do or say. He felt completely lost. "Prowl... the last thing you remember, is two months old."

O.O (ducks the bricks thrown at her) I'M SORRY!! I'LL POST ANOTHER CHAPTER SOON!! I PROMISE!! (runs away)

REVIEW PLEASE!!