Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Prowl/Soundwave
Rating: PG-13
Codes: Crossover, Slash, Violence
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
Notes: klik = 1 minute; breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 6.3 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles
~text~ bond/hardline talk
::text:: comm chatter
At All Costs 06: Lessons from Pain
A full decaorn of getting pummeled by various mechs on an ornly basis after a full shift in tactical had been an exceptional teacher, as least as far as Prowl was concerned. Pain, humiliation and Hook's ire did their job. Soundwave's steady presence and the vocal encouragement from the symbiots helped sooth the pain, both physical and emotional. Today he was put up against someone who knew his weaknesses intimately, but wasn't nearly the frontliner material of his usual opponents.
"Why do you want to learn to fight?" Smokescreen's tone was taunting as he fluttered his two-panel sensor wings. "You're not keeping your post because you can kill."
"You seem to believe that the matter is optional." Prowl responded, optics locked warily on his opponent as part of his processor started to pick apart the argument. "I wish to serve. And I do keep my position because I can kill, only until now I was not the one physically holding the weapon."
"So you're taking credit for the mechs on the front lines now?" the brightly colored Praxian flicked his sensor wings in a blatant dismissal and very intentional insult before darting in to test Prowl's reflexes. "The Coneheads could come up with battle plans. Go there, shoot everything."
It was more than just front line plans that crossed his desk, but there was no need for Smokescreen to know that. In a move that was close to an unconscious program now Prowl deflected the strike and slipped out of the way, prepared for the next attack, a great deal of his attention still caught up in the debate.
"They could. And for them that is a very logical battle plan. But even they must operate in context with others, and with them 'shoot everything' might well extend to those on our side very quickly."
"Fine, 'shoot everything that isn't a Con'," Smokescreen granted him. His wings twitched, tracking his slightly taller but lighter opponent. "If you want to learn to fight, you'd better try to fight and not just dodge."
Prowl didn't bother dignifying that with a response, slights against him personally meaning little to the tall Praxian. Still, he flared his wings the smallest bit, as though the taunt had bothered him, and instantly planned a defense for every direction he could predict his opponent attacking from.
A snort came from Smokescreen, a couple snickers from the side that were absently identified as Rumble and Frenzy, and suddenly Smokescreen was moving. He darted in, feinted ... a move that Prowl predicted and moved away from, and right into a move he'd never contemplated was possible.
Searing pain ripped through Prowl's processor as multiple hard spikes drove into his sensor wings and back. He only just caught what happened. Smokescreen had twisted, throwing a wing out to slam its top edge against the flat of Prowl's wings and back, then raking.
The pain alone would have knocked him completely out of the fight not so long ago, but experience and pain were harsh and unforgiving teachers. Not only did Prowl stay upright, he collected himself and was already facing his opponent again by the time Smokescreen turned.
A great deal of attention was spared for analyzing that new move, that new weapon. Prowl would certainly not be caught twice.
Most of the rest was centered on finding an exploitable weakness in his opponent and taking full advantage of it in the shortest time possible. Just because he was still standing did not mean that he was going to last long.
"You might just survive," Smokescreen seemed to muse to himself as he danced away, Prowl's energon dripping down his sensor wings where the spikes had retracted into the top strut.
Prowl filed the assessment away as currently irrelevant and evaluated his next move. He had finally concluded that his best available target was their shared weakness, the sensor panels gracing both frames.
Conclusion reached, he worked out a plan of action, circling his target, optics locked on his opponent as he upped the input from his own sensor panels. The damage pain warning was more difficult to ignore at this level, but he required the additional awareness of his surroundings his own modification granted him.
Course set, he went on the attack, striking for Smokescreen's sensor panels with the blade he had kept hidden away until now.
The smaller mech yelped and lunged backward, startled by the assault and the blade he'd missed, then hissed in pain when it caught up with his processor that Prowl had scored a hit. It wasn't deep or crippling, little more than a scratch, but Smokescreen knew well it was the first time Prowl had actually connected with an opponent.
"You are learning," Smokescreen grinned at him and shifted his stance and tactics to account for the blade. "Maybe you really are worth it. Your wings are lovely, even dripping energon."
In the background Ravage growled and Soundwave's engine rumbled a bass warning.
Whether or not Smokescreen acknowledged the warning was lost as Prowl struck again. It was a front on assault, aimed for the optics this time, and boarding on desperate. Prowl knew the moment Smokescreen grinned that he'd made a grave tactical error. Yet he had little choice; he had to end the fight or he'd go down.
Without hesitation Smokescreen brought an arm up to block, the force and angle willing to take the blade if that was what it took to save his optics. Tactically sound, as was the move when Smokescreen stepped into the attack and caught Prowl's wrist.
Then everything went weird for Prowl as Smokescreen continued forward until they were pressed close together, chassis to chassis. A hand closed around the base of one of Prowl's sensor wings and a demanding mouth was pressed against his.
Optics flared, startled and on the verge of panic as Prowl finally pieced together what was going on. He attempted to struggle, to free his knife, to break the press of the demanding lips against his own. Between the pain and the energon loss, regulators aside, he was already weak, and the pressure on his sensor joint was immobilizing.
The knife clattered to the floor when Smokescreen got his thumb against the primary control cable for Prowl's hand. Then their mouths parted and with a twisting sweep Prowl found himself on his chest, pinned with Smokescreen's weight on his lower back, knees on his wrists and Prowl's own blade at his throat.
"Yield?" Smokescreen asked smoothly from where he was straddling Prowl's back.
"I yield." Prowl confirmed quietly, frame going limp in submission. He was beaten and he knew it, and facing another visit with Hook. It was time to conserve what energy he had left for that for that.
The blade left his throat, the weight lifted and Smokescreen stood, offering Prowl a hand up.
"Work on your reaction to the unexpected," the bright blue and yellow Praxian said. "You've got the worst possible reflex there. You think too much too."
The hand up was taken gratefully, needed as Prowl locked his joints for moment to regain his balance once he was up. "I will keep that in mind."
::Want me to tear his wings?:: Ravage growled across a private comm. ::No right to kiss you, touch you like that.::
::No, he did not.:: Prowl growled in agreement, but there was no real bite in the response. ::But I was not strong enough to stop him, and to avoid Hook's wrath it might be best if you leave his wings merely scratched, as they are.::
She rumbled, displeased, but wordlessly agreed to leave the Praxian alone.
"Prowl: requires medical attention." Soundwave stated as he stepped up, separating the pair with a glare at Smokescreen that was brushed off with a smirk.
Probably not the wisest response, given the circumstances, but there were other matters at the moment. Prowl leaned on Soundwave, just remembering to hold out his hand for the energy blade Smokescreen had taken from them during their sparring session. It was handed over, the hilt placed in his palm.
Oh, he was not looking forward to his visit with Hook.
Three joors later and Prowl considered the pain, lectures, threats and downtime a side event. The real item of interest was Soundwave. The hovering, and Hook's irate tolerance of it, was not a surprise anymore. The way Hook actually edged away from Soundwave on several occasions was. By the time he was released from Hook's care Soundwave had quietly worked himself into something of a fury.
Prowl himself was quiet in the face of the fury. Fully repaired, he was still in need of some energon to finish replenishing what he had lost, and recharge. Both were critical so that he could analyze what had gone wrong, and how to avoid it in the future.
He walked silently besides the communications officer, devoting some of his attention there. It took him longer than usual to pick up where they were headed. Soundwave's quarters held energon, a private washrack, polish and many hands willing to help him look like himself again. He found himself relishing the prospect of that help, of company and peace, and finally of recharge.
It wasn't until the door closed behind them, enclosing them in the peaceful space that Soundwave spoke.
"Prowl: desires assistance cleaning and polishing?"
"That would be most welcome." Prowl answered, already looking longingly in the direction of the large private washrack. Hook did all of the repairs, and anything he had to touch was clean, but he left dried energon in places Prowl would rather it wasn't.
A large, gentle hand touched his shoulder, guiding him towards the washrack while Rumble ran ahead to turn it on. "Prowl: always welcome here. Soundwave: desires Prowl to consider this home."
Prowl hummed in response, considering and distracted as his processor started over his latest training run. If Smokescreen was willing to do that in the open, what might others attempt?
"Soundwave: apologizes," he said quietly as they stepped under the warm solvent spray and Soundwave reached for a cleaning cloth and the mild abrasive to deal with the more stubborn spots. "Soundwave: did not believe Smokescreen would attempt to act on desires."
"I did not either," Prowl admitted, no longer blind to when others were flirting with him. He braced himself against the wall, leaning into the pleasant cleaning. "I am sorry I was unable to stop him. I will do better."
"Prowl: improves every orn." Soundwave said, his large hands firm, sure and accustomed to delicate work on much smaller frames. "Soundwave: believes in Prowl."
The belief meant a lot, more than Prowl was willing to display, even here. Still, it took some of the tension from him, relaxing as skilled hands took the dirt and somehow the stress.
He didn't see Soundwave's smile, but he could feel the soft pleasure in Soundwave's field as it gently slid along Prowl's.
"Soundwave: does not want Prowl alone tonight. Soundwave: does not trust others to respect Soundwave's protection of Prowl at a distance."
Old hesitation flared, but it was weak. The truth of the matter was Prowl did not wish to be alone to recharge. Today had been an uncomfortable reminder of just how vulnerable he was, how much he still had to learn about surviving.
No words, but acceptance in the field that welcomed Soundwave's. Relief, gratitude, thanks flowed from Soundwave in response.
Smaller hands, Rumble and Frenzy, went to work on Prowl's lower frame, scrubbing and picking at dirt that hadn't been removed in metacycles, if not vorns. Prowl took good care of himself, but it was only to a functional level. These hands wanted not just to clean him, but to prepare him for the detailing of a functioning.
"Glad you're staying," Rumble spoke up. "Saves us from guarding your door."
Prowl turned just enough to get a look at the symbiot. He was honestly surprised. "You would do that?"
"We already do," Ravage told him from just outside the solvent shower. "One of us is always in sensor range, just in case, but especially around the washracks and your quarters. My claws have warned off more than a few mechs."
"So has my blaster," Frenzy grinned up at him.
"Our tails have guarded you," Buzzsaw chirred from above them, sitting on a bar near the ceiling.
"It never occurred to anyone that someone would take advantage of training to get their hands on you," Rumble added. "I mean, not even old Megs is crazy enough to cross that line."
"I can still shoot his optics out next battle," Laserbeak chirred. "No one would notice it was friendly fire."
"Smokescreen: must be punished," Soundwave said simply. "Soundwave: looses authority if behavior is accepted."
Prowl didn't comment, too sidetracked by the idea that the symbiots had been keeping him under what sounded like complete, round the clock guard. He had noticed them hanging around far more than before but hadn't thought much about it, already have been warned they planned to keep a closer optic on him. But to that degree...
"Prowl: important to Soundwave."
"So I see." Prowl murmured, still coming to terms with the idea that Soundwave was investing resources in him like that. Surely he had nothing to offer the communications mech that was worth that much.
"Prowl: important to Soundwave," the large mech repeated with as much emphasis as his vocalizer was capable of. His field skittered across Prowl's in distress at being unable to communicate well enough.
"Boss?" Rumble gave a questioning looked up.
"Prowl," Ravage's tone demanded his attention. "He loves you. Understand?"
The Praxian stared at Ravage. He understood, at least well enough to almost lock up at the idea. Out of everything that he was trying to learn, wanted to learn, that was the one thing he considered so far out of his reach as to be impossible.
He had heard descriptions of love, but not good enough that he could identify it, apparently. Prowl was sure he neither knew how to give it, or receive it, and that he couldn't learn it. His own distress started to show, the smallest quiver in his sensor panels.
~Prowl: relax. Information: delete if desired.~ Soundwave's mind was suddenly right there, right inside his processor, too distressed by Prowl's reaction to hold back.
The sudden presence was enough to knock Prowl out of loop he had fallen into, bringing him back to present. "Unnecessary." He vented sharply, struggling for control. "I just need time to process..."
His processor caught up with the rest of him, and his attention focused completely on Soundwave. Standing right next to him, but as presence inside of him as well.
The fact that Soundwave had invaded his processor thoroughly enough to speak with him was not as disturbing as the way the communications officer apparently felt towards him.
That idea was going to take him a considerable amount of time to process and decide on an appropriate course of action. Action that could wait, Prowl decided, as he forced himself to prioritize.
He wanted to be clean. He needed to recharge. And he wanted to do so safely, which he hoped was still an option. He reached for a scrub, unsure of his welcome anymore and prepared to finish the job himself. "This will take time. I am sorry. I-"
Lacked the words that he needed to say, instead allowing shame and sorrow to bleed into his field.
Desperation, concern and a deep sense of patience echoed back as Soundwave eased himself from Prowl's processors even as he returned to cleaning Prowl's frame with gentle, determined hands.
"Prowl: has time." Soundwave said firmly. "Soundwave: waited many vorns. Soundwave: will wait until Prowl is ready."
"Thank you." Prowl sighed, relaxing into the skillful cleaning once more as the events of the orn started to catch up with him.