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 15: From the Front Lines
Prowl flinched as another wave of input struck his already damaged sensory panels. His shooting skills were rated excellent, honed by joors of practice and a large amount of program enabled talent. His close combat skills had finally, and grudgingly, been rated as acceptable. All of which added up to the fact the Megatron had declared it time that he prove his usefulness as an officer on the battlefield.
Unfortunately, Prowl was discovering little of that training had prepared him for being in the middle of an actual full-scale combat setting. As much as it had annoyed Hook to patch him back up after a round with Skywarp, the mech had given him the closest experience to what he now faced. Now instead of just one he had multiple bots aiming at him with the intent of extinguishing his spark if they could and doing as much damage as possible if they could not.
The Praxian centered his pistol on a target, diverting a small amount of his attention until the mech would come into range of the smaller weapon. Things had been going well until a blast has scrambled part of his comm system and Prowl had been separated from the mech he was working with. Now, stranded away from the main fighting force, he was hoping to either hear the order to retreat- with his analysis of the direction of the current battle he was estimating the order to come in less than half a joor- or for a long enough lull in the fighting that he could make his way back to the others.
Two more Autobots focused on him, both light frontliners, mechs built for killing speed rather than a slow unstoppable march. Gold and silver ... Prowl's spark nearly froze and he was sure the energon in his lines did as his battle computer spat out their designations and cadre.
Sunstreaker. Sideswipe. Bladebrothers.
Three of the five in that cadre could take on and drive Megatron away. Any one of them was more than a match for Prowl.
He targeted one of them, his battle computer informing him that the odds of him managing to take both of them out, even as good of a shot as he was, was very low. Second hand knowledge also told him that eliminating one of them would exponentially increase the aggression level of the remaining brother, lowering even his small chance of survival.
Still, Prowl was not planning on going down without a fight. There was a very small chance that luck would favor him, and he was going to take it.
Course of action determined, he waited for optimal target position. It wasn't long in coming, and while it was the silver one that came in range first, Prowl remained locked on the golden frame. Sideswipe was known for quick, clean kills. Sunstreaker preferred to mangle those who angered him, drawing the deactivation out for breems of pure pain.
At least those were their reputations.
He squeezed the trigger, focus remaining on Sunstreaker as the golden armor was charged and melted over his chest, dropping the mech into immediate stasis. The howling keen of pain-outrage exploded from the silver mech that was now charging him.
Satisfied that the golden mech was not going to be getting up any time soon Prowl re-focused, trying to get a bead on the silver mech as well. He got the shot in, but the silver mech, even in berserker mode, anticipated it and Prowl missed when the mech went almost went horizontal.
Then the world devolved into sharp pain and a spinning visual feed laced with static as he went flying.
Impact.
Darkness.
The few last struggles of his processor as awareness faded.
Regret and sorrow for everything that he was leaving unresolved. Soundwave. The symbiots. Jazz. All that they had come to mean to him in a very short time.
And relief that the personal turmoil and doubt in his spark was something that he would no longer have to deal with.
And Chance laughing at him when it pointed out that his final evaluation had been correct. Sideswipe's strike had been quick and clean.
Then nothing.
Pain as his processor started to function once more.
Protocols that he had rarely used kicked in, booting his system in a still unfamiliar order, one geared for survival.
Still, a small part of his processor that operated even beyond those protocols seemed to think that it was helpful to point out that since he hadn't expected to ever boot up again the pain was probably a good sign.
The presence of another functioning individual was the first thing registered. Then the realization that he was restrained. And all of that before his optics finally cycled and focused enough for him to evaluate his surroundings.
The mech hovering over him, working on him, was unfamiliar. Black, dark green and dark red. Spiky. Green visor. Hard face. Optics scanned for an insignia even as damaged systems tried to ping for an ID, or at least a faction.
"Won't find one," the rough voice growled at him. "It's Top Notch."
Memory files supplied the rest. Autobot. SpecOps. Top ranked. Did everything.
An internal flinch. He was in trouble now, and part of him wished that the silver mech, the last thing he really recalled before blacking out, had been more thorough.
He was captured, and that was the last place he wanted to be. Megatron was not going to forgive this easily, provided he managed to make it back to his side at all.
"Anybody told you how much of a pain wings are to stop bleeding?" Top Notch grumbled as Prowl realized the battle was still raging in the distance. "Have to give you credit though, not many would take out Sunny first when Sides is closer. Smart move, I guess."
"I am intimately familiar with the difficulties of having wings." Prowl hissed as his processor started to accept other input, including the actual condition of his sensor wings. He took a moment and considered his current position. "Thank you."
Top Notch grunted. "You're a lot more valuable to me alive than torn in two." He paused, seeming to check his work. "Still sharing Soundwave's berth?"
Prowl didn't answer right away, battle computer running an evaluation. Either way he was potential leverage, but his answer would most likely affect how the leverage was applied.
Finally he sighed. "Yes."
Top Notch just nodded. "Got enough motor control to walk?"
"Yes."
"Then come on. Hook can finish fixing you."
Prowl froze momentarily as he processed that. "You're returning me?"
The rough looking, dark mech smirked and helped the still-restrained mech to his pedes. "Yap. You're worth more to me as a favor owed by Soundwave than you are a prisoner."
The Praxian swayed, the damage to his sensor wings wreaking havoc with his balance as his processor struggled to compensate. Finally somewhat steady he was tempted to resist, but considering the fact that he was barely functioning escape was not an option and resistance a futile gesture. So he allowed Top Notch to support the majority of his weight, compensate for his faulty balance, and lead him across the edge of the battlefield.
Prowl saw Ravage before Top Notch seemed to, but the feline symbiot seemed reluctant to pounce.
Instead she shadowed them, agitated, and Prowl avoided looking at her too much. While he was very familiar with the symbiots, how they acted in battle situations was not something he understood well with his lack of combat experience.
Regardless, Ravage's presence meant that Soundwave was now fully aware of Prowl's situation and location. Whether he would come to rescue or negotiate, Prowl was certain he would come.
Behind an upturned street that created a shelter of sorts, Top Notch paused, then shifted his weight to settle in and watch.
"Top Notch: price for Prowl?" Soundwave's voice greeted them as the giant stepped into view from around a shattered building, Rumble and Frenzy by his pedes.
"You owe me, or my master, whoever asks first," the SpecOps mech said simply. "It won't be cheep."
Soundwave stared at the pair, at Prowl and the situation for a lingering klik.
"Soundwave: agrees to Top Notch's price."
Outwardly calm, Prowl cringed on the inside as Soundwave agreed. It was far to high, open ended and dangerous, even though Prowl was not surprised at that the host had accepted. It was, beyond anything Soundwave could say in private, proof of how much Prowl meant to him. It was comforting and embarrassing all at once.
"Then he's all yours," Top Notch said cheerfully and let Prowl go, slipping the restrains off in a single motion before he sauntered off towards the main battle.
Soundwave had to move quickly to catch Prowl before the Praxian lost his balance at the sudden loss of his physical support, but he did.
Prowl collapsed against him, relief flooding through him, quickly replaced with guilt and sorrow. "You shouldn't have done that."
"Soundwave: will not regret deal to have Prowl returned," he said firmly. "Prowl: needs to be repaired." He added as he picked the Praxian up, careful of the damaged senor wings.
In too much pain, and honestly too weak and tired to protest, Prowl settled in to being carried. He relaxed against Soundwave, drawing comfort and a sense of safety from being in the mech's strong hold.
Instead he looked for something else to focus on. "Comm's messed up. What happened?"
"Battle: going poorly. Retreat: to be called soon. Megatron: stubborn." Soundwave paused. "Megatron: will be pleased with Prowl."
"You mean as long as we don't tell him I got myself captured?" Prowl asked, comfortable enough with Soundwave to be a little sarcastic. It did not help matters that he was rating his own performance very poor.
"Correct," Soundwave didn't hide the smile in his voice. "Prowl: survived attack by both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Incapacitated Sunstreaker. Prowl: will see many more battle front lines."
The Praxian groaned softly. He was not looking forward to battle, no matter how pleased Megatron was potentially going to be with him.
The fact the Soundwave was pleased with him made him happy, but he did wish even that could be under different circumstances. "I doubt that surviving Sideswipe was my own doing."
"Prowl: correct. Top Notch ordered Sideswipe to take Sunstreaker to medical care. Prowl: does not need to fight for Soundwave to be proud." A large tentacle slid from Soundwave's spinal strut to caress Prowl. "Prowl: shut down. Soundwave: will care for Prowl."
Safe and trusting completely that everything would be all right, Prowl did as told, shutting down to conserve and escape the constant, steady throb of battle damaging eating into his small reserves.
Pain. Ghost pain.
Prowl muted the groan that wanted to escape him. If all he was getting was ghost pain it meant that the repairs, whatever he had suffered, were complete. It also meant that he was likely in Hook's repair bay and at the most a breem or so away from another lecture. It was a familiar routine.
"I heard your systems come online, so unless there is something not processing correctly you might as well finish cycling up."
Make that breem less than a klik.
Reluctantly Prowl powered up, optics coming online last to take the very familiar location, and the very familiar mech associated with that location. "My processor is working correctly."
"Good. Then you can tell me just what possessed you to take on those Pit-forsaken Twins?" Hook snarled, his distress radiating through his field for Prowl to feel.
"I didn't ask for them to target me." Prowl replied, certain that he was the source of that distress, even if there was nothing he could do about it. "I didn't even know they were there until they were coming at me."
"And the common sense response is to transform and bolt," Hook growled.
"Taking them on and surviving is the brave response, and proof I selected well," Megatron's deep, resonant voice carried over the bay as he walked towards the smaller mechs.
Prowl nodded his head respectfully, weary even with the compliment since the memory of this same mech beating him to the point of stasis was still fresh in his processor. "Sir."
"Continue to train and perform this well and you'll change my processor about how effective Praxians can be," the silver giant grinned at him before leaving.
A small shiver ran through Prowl, the statement and the expression disturbing. He vented softly, saving it all and adding it to the list of things he needed to consider when he had the time to just think.
"Good luck with that," Hook said quietly when he was sure they were alone again. "He's as easy to figure out as why Primus allows so much imperfection to exist on his chassis."
A twitch as Prowl had to admit that Hook was right. Pushing troubling thoughts aside he focused on his sensor wings, moving them slowly. "How bad was it this time?"
"Skywarp did worse," he admitted grudgingly. "Sideswipe wanted to kill you. Skywarp was out to mangle you. You have to learn not to be separated from your backup. No matter what Megatron may think, you were lucky."
"Agreed." Prowl was not sure how much of his 'luck' was common knowledge, and he wasn't about to try and find out from Hook. "May I go?"
"Yes," the Constructicon stepped back. "Just don't grace my medbay after every battle."
"I shall attempt not to." Prowl replied sincerely as he departed in search of energon, company, and peace.
Prowl had abandoned reading in favor of watching Soundwave repair the extensive damage Buzzsaw had taken in the battle. He had always been aware, at least peripherally, that Soundwave performed all the repairs and maintenance on his symbiots. He hadn't realized until then just how broad and skilled that knowledge base ran. Buzzsaw had lost an entire wing, half the other one, and taken blaster to the chest. Yet none of them even thought about taking him to Hook. Even this level of surgery was Soundwave's to do, and do well.
"He built all our frames, he knows how to repair them better than anyone," Ravage spoke up with a soothing purr from Prowl's leg.
"I can believe it." Prowl replied, there being little the host could not manage he was discovering, especially when it came to those who were dependent on him. He reached down, hand coming into contact with Ravage's head in a return gesture of his own. "Still, I find it comforting that repair to injuries this extensive is not something I have had to witness often."
"Affirmative," Soundwave said without shifting his attention. "Prowl: fully recovered from battle?"
"Recovered enough. The connectors for my sensor panels have not yet finished recalibrating. They should be fine after recharge."
"He meant your meta too," Ravage said quietly, rubbing her head against his hand. "First battles are hard, first personal kills are hard, almost extinguishing is hard, being captured is hard. You went through a lot Prowl. He's seen each of us through those, but not all at once."
A flick of his sensor panels, face expressionless as she spoke. Everything that he had avoided considering coming back all at once as his processor began to play the battle for him in detail.
Battle, as inevitable as it was, Prowl was now sure he hated. Killing ... he handled that much better. He did not kill to kill - he killed to protect. To defend. It made it little easier, but it made it bearable.
Almost extinguishing, as she had phrased it, his feelings on that he held close. Irrationally he had already wished that Top Notch had not stopped the frontliner. That instead he had allowed the silver mech to finish him, as he had so obviously wished.
His capture still weighed heavily on his processor as well. Not for himself, but at the price now hovering over Soundwave for his return. Emotions ran through him, his entire frame quivering as he struggled to control them, to not distract Soundwave from his work.
"Prowl: control comes from understanding. Emotions: must be understood to be mastered. Soundwave: not distracted by emotions."
That was a relief, though a small one as Prowl pulled back from Ravage. He wanted the physical contact, the comfort that he had become so accustomed to having here, but he also did not want to force his distress on anyone else.
"I shall have to learn to understand then." He replied, voice shaky despite his best efforts.
He found Ravage's front paws on his upper leg as she butted his hand to be petted. Laserbeak flew over to his shoulder to nuzzle him. Even the twins were quiet, which was as close as either came to being emotionally supportive.
"Family: supports each other," Soundwave said simply. "Prowl: not alone."
"Thank you." Prowl ran his hand over Ravage's head, methodical and slow as the contact soothed his stress, shifting his wings to allow Laserbeak to settle in better.
He turned his attention back to watching Soundwave work on Buzzsaw. It was soothing in a completely different way, and gradually Prowl realized that Soundwave possessed the skills to repair him ... if need be.
"Affirmative," Soundwave said as he finished attaching Buzzsaw's new wing. "Advantage: few mechs realize Soundwave's full skill set. Prowl: more difficult to repair. Soundwave: did not design or construct Prowl."
"Don't let him fool you," Laserbeak trilled quietly, as if by whispering Soundwave wouldn't overhear. "The idea of operating on you freaks him out bad."
Prowl reached up, offering a hand and similar affection to Laserbeak and found the avian immediately nuzzling into his hand. "My systems are that different?"
"Negative," Soundwave responded as he went to work on Buzzsaw's other wing. "Prowl: Less emotional distance from Soundwave."
That floored him as he tried to work through that, as he looked down at Ravage. "I trust you." He said quietly, not sure if it was the correct reassurance, but it was the truth.
He actually saw a small tremor pass through Soundwave's frame, though the mech had prepared for it by removing his tool from Buzzsaw. A wash of relief-gratitude-affection-desire rolled over him from the telepath. Laserbeak and Ravage both sent their approval-affection through their fields.
Prowl saw no need for words as he allowed his field to spread out once more, touching them with his own affection and thanks, and peace that ran spark deep.