Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Prowl/Constructicons
Rating:
Codes: Crossover,
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .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 22: Chaos
They weren't his quarters, or even their quarters, but Prowl wasn't sure he had ever been more thankful for a retreat as he let himself in the room that technically served as both now.
His entire frame slumped, struggling to remain upright. Determination, pure stubbornness, and more refined energon than was good for him had seen him through the last few orns, and Prowl was paying the price now.
It was estimated that everyone who had survived the attack had finally checked in, and as acting commander it had been up to Prowl to determine who was where and reset the chains of command among their forces appropriately. Things were still shaky, and the Praxian was thankful that the Autobots still seemed to be at least as disorganized as his own faction, with no rumor of an immediate attack coming in through the information networks.
Megatron had been recovered, severely damaged but still functioning, and even now rested under induced stasis in Hooks rather irritated, if still professional and skilled, care. The medic estimated at least several orns worth of work before he would even consider lifting the stasis, and possible several more after that before he would be willing to release the Decepticon leader.
All of that Prowl processed and stored away as his attention focused on the other occupants of the small room. His lover was finally functioning somewhat close to normal, though the flickers of distress that Prowl picked up on when in the host's presence, a place the Praxian had been far less than he wanted to be in the recent orns, were troubling.
Especially since Prowl still did not have a reason for the meltdown, a fact most troubling and one he wanted settled before attempting recharge, despite the protests of his systems at the prospect of remaining online that much longer.
"Prowl: needs recharge," Soundwave stood, shaky himself from orns of little more than energon and determination maintaining him through repairing his symbiots and struggling with his spark, coding, oaths and personal desires.
"So do you." Prowl commented quietly, crossing the room to join his lover.
"Affirmative," Soundwave murmured, gathering Prowl in his arms and holding him close. "Soundwave and Prowl: recharge together?"
Prowl nodded in agreement, taking comfort in simply being held for a moment before pulling back. "Soon. Fuel first." He pulled the energon he had brought with him from his subspace and finally looked up to meet the host's gaze. "And answers."
Soundwave seemed to deflate slightly, then gathered himself and accepted the cube, though he made some effort to keep Prowl close. "Terms: agreed to."
Content with the compliance Prowl nodded in the direction of the berth questioningly, and accepted the kiss Soundwave placed on his mouth before the host stood and walked with him to settle on the berth. Without a single word, the symbiots gathered with them. Ravage curled against Prowl's side and dropped her head on his lap. Laserbeak settled across his shoulders and pressed close. Buzzsaw and the twins snuggled close to Soundwave as the cubes of energon were shared until everyone had their fill.
"Prowl: ask questions," Soundwave prompted, holding the Praxian close.
The Praxian sighed, helm leaning against the larger mech as he tried to compose everything that had been troubling him into coherent questions.
"Why?" He whispered quietly, begging for understanding. He knew of Soundwave's functioning, of his former occupation. But wasn't the overthrow of the Prime's rule the entire reason they had been fighting? Why had Soundwave frightened him like that, been so willing to stop living? Weren't those who depended on him reason to continue living? Wasn't Prowl, whom Soundwave professed to love, reason to continue living?
"Why?"
"The Lord Prime Sentinel: not the cause of suffering. Senate, corruption: cause of suffering," Soundwave struggled to explain. "Soundwave: never anticipated The Lord Prime would perish. Soundwave: still carries full High Priest coding."
Prowl didn't understand completely, and he allowed it to show. He didn't know how to comfort Soundwave. Didn't know how he could comfort his lover. And because he didn't understand he had no idea what to do now.
"High Priests: code-bonded to the Lord Prime." Soundwave attempted to explain. "Code-bond: nearly as painful as a spark bond when broken. Disorienting. Distressing. Terrible failure. Soundwave: traitor to Soundwave's code-bonded. Soundwave: grieving. Prowl's presence: comfort."
The Praxian shuddered, fitting his frame as close as he could with a willingness to give whatever Soundwave wanted, words and actions snapping into painful clarity even if he had never experienced the true depth of a bond.
"And now?" He asked softly, afraid of the answer he was going to receive, haunted still by Soundwave's pain and hopelessness.
"Soundwave: recovering," the mech wrapped an arm around Prowl and held him close, their entwined fields mingling with pain, grief, support and gratitude. "Soundwave: mission incomplete. Soundwave: must survive. Prowl: worth surviving for."
Comfort flooded Prowl at the assurance that he was important to the host. So relieved that it took a moment for the rest of Soundwave's words to sink into to his tired processor. "Mission?"
All six members of the symbiot-host bond went still, focused on each other, on some debate Prowl was not privy to.
With a shudder, Soundwave seemed to settle something inside. "Soundwave: still High Priest."
Prowl stared at him, uncomprehending. Of course Soundwave was- it was his functioning no matter his current occupation. Just as Prowl, at his most basic level, was a servant of order and planning. Wasn't he?
With a determined flicker in his field, Soundwave tried again. ~Soundwave: still servant to the Lord Prime.~
For the second time in less than a joor the pieces snapped into place again for Prowl, throwing what little mental equilibrium he had managed to regain into chaos once more.
For several kliks it was all he could do to work through that Soundwave had just told him, the implications pushing his processor to the limit. Finally he relaxed against the larger mech, accepting even if he was still confused. ~Then why are you here?~
~Mission: incomplete,~ came first, but was almost overridden by the next thought. ~Prowl: here.~
~Mission? What mission?~ Prowl begged, distressed as his emotional turmoil started to get the better of him. He knew he needed to recharge, his control slipping faster the longer they talked.
~Shu,~ Soundwave tried to sooth him. ~Mission: discredit, disrupt, destroy the rebellion.~
~Destroy the rebellion...~ Prowl repeated, shaking as he tried to process Soundwave's part in a something that he was supposedly trying to take down. It hurt. It was confusing.
And it cast all of Prowl's own doubts in a new light.
~Prowl: trust Soundwave?~ the question came with hesitance, from a telepath that had gone to some pains not to read his lover's thoughts deeper than the surface.
~Yes.~ Prowl answered, the matching conviction of the truth there clear on all levels. A moment later he felt Soundwave move a bit deeper into his processors, entwining them firmly, before the host opened up a series of memory files for Prowl to witness.
The terror-awe the first time Soundwave saw the Lord Prime Sentinel. That it was because the Lord Prime had summoned him.
The trembling joy-shock-fear Soundwave felt when the Lord Prime bid him to rise and told him of his plans. That he wished to elevate Soundwave to the priesthood with an optic to making him the first host High Priest in remembered history.
The orn the Lord Prime Sentinel came to him with a grave expression and asked if he would do the unthinkable for his Prime. If Soundwave would publicly renounce all that had been done for him, all Soundwave had earned, and join the brewing rebellion led by the former miner, Megatron.
Terror. Denial. I can not. Understanding. Comprehension. Obedience.
All before the Lord Prime Sentinel could processes that anything was going on.
The first meeting with Megatron. The turmoil of knowing the rebel was right.
Hundreds of vorns of keeping an optic on things, of watching, waiting, recording.
The growing disgust with the type of mech Megatron was drawing to him.
The realization, long before it was apparent in his actions, that Megatron was overcharged on power and loosing his processor.
The choice to speed up the processes, then make it quietly known to select others that he was holding back the insanity, which was also true.
Prowl shook in his arms, in awe of what Soundwave had done, the strength the mech had to possess to have lasted this long and done everything he had. Respect as he was reminded once more how inferior he was to the mech who had taken such an interest in him. And a determination in Prowl to do what he could to help Soundwave see this mission through.
~There are others?~
~Yes,~ Soundwave murmured. ~Mine to command and those I was not to know of. The larger the rebellion grew, the more resources were put into dismantling it from the inside without resorting to war.~
~Only for a war to happen anyway.~ Prowl grieved, the images of the ruins of Iacon still fresh in his processor. Fueled or not, the last of his strength left him, frame going limp against the larger mech in surrender as his systems started to shut down.
"Recharge, my love," Soundwave rumbled softly, drawing Prowl against him as they shifted to recharge lying down.