Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Prowl/Soundwave
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Codes: Crossover, Slash, Violence
Summary: Korrës begins teaching Prowl how to function through pain.
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 18: Painful Lessons
A full vorn.
One full vorn under Korrës' tutilage and Prowl felt confident he could handle himself respectably in battle, be it in the halls or on the field. He still wasn't a skilled warrior by any stretch, but he was no longer prey.
While Prowl had yet to come close to actually landing a hit on Metallikato master, his master was far superior to any opponent he was likely to encounter on a daily basis. It had reached the point that Prowl actually looked forward to his lessons, finding satisfaction in how drained he was at the end of each session.
The last one had ended with Korrës pronouncing Prowl fit for combat duty and done with the basic lessons.
"Prowl: begins advanced training now," Soundwave said quietly, a flicker of concern in his field for his lover. Concern that Ravage apparently shared, if the feline's presence at Prowl's side was any indication.
"I thought this was the goal." Prowl commented, looking from one to the other. He was certainly not expecting the training to be easy, but surely there was no reason for the level of concern he was picking up from both of them.
"Affirmative," Soundwave agreed. "Soundwave: knows what 'advanced training' consists of. Prowl: will be hurt."
Sensor panels twitched in a shrug, not dismissive but practical. "I have been hurt before, and better here, when no one is trying to offline me, than out there were everyone is." He pointed out quietly.
"Affirmative," Soundwave replied. He wasn't even going to try to explain what it did to him to know Prowl was damaged.
Prowl opened the training room door in silence and took in the changes. There were weapons out for the first time; small blades, a shock rod and a simple beam and chain construct that when taken in context looked particularly unpleasant in its implications. There were also datapads on the table.
What hadn't changed was the focal point of calm in the room; Korrës meditating.
As he had grown accustomed to, Prowl walked to the platform and knelt before Korrës, matching the master's pose and trying to match his calm while Soundwave made himself comftorable in the corner.
"Are you prepared to face pain and master it?" Korrës' deep red visor lit and locked onto Prowl's golden optics.
Changes tucked away in his mind, Prowl took an extra moment to sweep the room for any changes that were not visible on the surface, and then to consider his answer.
He did not have to rush, so he did not. Pain, he had faced before and learned to fight his way through it as best as he could. His current knowledge led him to doubt that it could be mastered, but the mech before him had yet to lie or deceive him. So if he said it was possible then the possibility existed, and if he was presenting the option to Prowl then he most likely believed that Prowl could succeed.
And Prowl wanted it.
"I am."
"Good," Korrës nodded faintly. "What will you most likely be required to do while in pain?"
"Fight." Prowl responded instantly, sure of that answer. The times he had found himself injured and in pain were few and far between when he was not involved in some form of combat, and he needed to be able to defend himself and others.
"Think." He added a moment later, also sure of that answer. He was a tactician, a thinker even more than a fighter. He needed to be able to think while in pain, to find solutions and make plans.
"Focus." And divide his focus as needed between fighting and thinking.
The small smile that crossed Korrës' face was all the indication Prowl needed to know his master agreed and approved.
"We will begin in reverse order," Korrës said as he stood. "Focus is required to achieve the rest." He looked at Soundwave. "And you will not tell him any of the answers."
"Soundwave: will not help Prowl," the host responded unhappily.
"It'll do him more good in the long run," Korrës said. "Stand up, Prowl. Spread your wings fully, as unprotected as they get by your frame."
Prowl stood and did as he was ordered, sensor panels flared full and wide despite everything that screamed at him that it was a bad idea. He was vulnerable now, open to any sort of attack and the rest of him went on high alert.
"The rules of this lesson are as simple as they are difficult to master," Korrës said as he walked over to pick up the shock baton. "One: hold your frame exactly as it is now. Two: make no sound. Three: do whatever is required to accomplish the first two rules. Failure is to begin again. Understood?"
Prowl nodded once and waited, still and resisting the urge to turn and look. Whatever was coming, he had already agreed to it.
A burst of electrical chaos that his systems interpreted as intense pain erupted against the back of his knee, though there was very little pressure to go with it.
A brief flinch despite the fact that Prowl knew the rules, and he caught himself quickly. This was bearable, if uncomfortable in the extreme. So was the second burst in the same location. His HUD recommended shifting his weight off his right leg. His battle computer recommended any of a dozen reactions he was not to follow.
The next burst was at his left hip from behind, strong enough to shock his valve.
The jerk was visible that time, Prowl choosing to clamp down on the cry of pain that threatened to escape him, choosing some victory over none as ripples of pain a spread through his entire frame.
A low hum sounded behind him as he forced his frame back to its original position, but he couldn't tell what the sound meant. He'd barely managed to recover when the next shock hit, this time directly against his valve cover.
He didn't fall, but it was a near thing as his entire frame shook and a whimper of pain escaped him. The pain pleasure pain was too much to fight this time.
He was half-aware that Korrës stepped back, waiting for him to collect himself and process what had happened in silence.
He was trying to fight his way through the pain like he had before. But before there had always been something else that had demanded his attention right away, something that forced him to put the pain on hold or to route it somewhere else where it was less distracting.
Rerouting. Prowl straightened, forcing his frame back into the required stance as he grabbed on to that thought and inspected it, processor working furiously.
He was given time. Korrës was good at knowing when he was processing a lesson and when he was in idle mode.
Finally the thought tension drained from Prowl. He wasn't sure of the adjustments to his sensory input routing, but it was a start, and hopefully the right direction.
The next strike crackled down his entire spinal strut from right below his wing's sensor suite to his aft.
There was pain from this strike, stronger than the ones before, but this time Prowl only swayed. It hurt like the pit, but it didn't lay him out.
Considering that, Prowl tweaked the programming again, determination growing simply because he was still standing.
"Impressive," he heard murmured as Korrës moved, raking the shock baton across both sensor wings from tip to tip.
What should have been excruciating, utterly incapacitating, was now merely painful. Prowl's entire frame clenched as he refused to move his sensor wings away from the torture, already planning more alterations through the pain. He was given a moment, then a second raking going the other direction, this time pausing to send three intense pulses directly into the sensor suite between his wings.
Even his current modifications weren't enough to counter that, to keep him from crying out in pain, each pulse causing his wings to flinch and twitch since Prowl refused to move away.
Korrës stepped away again, allowing Prowl to recover and adapt.
The next strike to Prowl's wings was a pale shadow of the pain from the last blow, barely drawing a reaction from him, his last modifications only allowing the sensation of the pressure he still wanted and refused to move away from to come through. He recognized that the input was becoming scrambled, but there was nothing he could do about it. That was physical damage; burned out sensors and replays.
Then Korrës was in front of him, visor locked on his optics as the shock baton discharged a full-power burst directly against his codpiece.
Pressure, and warnings enough that Prowl knew as soon as he allowed his protocols to shift back to their proper network paths he was going to be in extreme pain if he did not get to Hook first.
But he didn't flinch. Didn't move. Offered no sound even as he fought the damage to his frame, stubborn determination filling in the gaps in his still imperfect alterations until he could streamline them to full effectiveness.
He was designed to learn, and given the chance learn quickly. He had the chance. And he was going to learn. Quickly.
He could feel the approval and pleasure at his speed in adapting radiate from his master. He felt it from Soundwave too, though it was mixed with distress at his damage and the pain that would come.
This time Prowl saw the strike coming, was meant to see it coming, as Korrës lifted the shock baton to his throat, pausing to let the implications sink in, and set the charge off.
Pain ripped through him, bypassing all of his alterations as Prowl's processors stuttered, the energy scrambling his pathways and abilities. His frame locked and then gave way, the Praxian sinking to his knees as he struggled to not fall completely. Refused to fall completely.
Intake and primary energon lines to his helm closed off. His secondary vents struggling to keep up with his needs. Yet Prowl managed to divert enough energy to reestablish some function the moment the baton was pulled back. His frame still refused to move, but he had enough power to record for later analysis.
When his optics came back on, Prowl became aware that Korrës had stepped away again, this time towards the weapon table where the shock baton was now resting.
Entire frame trembling, Prowl had just enough control to watch and wait, unsure if his lesson was at an end because he had failed, or if there was more to come.
"I'm impressed," Korrës said absently as he played with one of the daggers. "You've never had this training before?"
"No." Even the short admission made Prowl's vocalizer crackle with static as he watched the blade, already preparing for what was to come and stubbornly determined to see it through. He knew nothing would happen until he got to his pedes again, which gave him a conflicting goal. To manage to stand quickly and move on, but also to remain on his knees, down, until he'd recovered fully.
After a vorn he knew Korrës would give him that choice without comment either way.