(Edit: Completely missed that the lyrics weren't on that file. Sigh.)
Off Hand
This scenery is evergreen
It sorrows at the sight of seeing you so sad
This scenery is evergreen
I wish that I could dry your tears…
Sideswipe traipsed the hallways of Autobot City, a sour frown on his face. He nodded at mechs he hadn't seen for over five metacycles. They hesitated before they nodded back, and he could hear their murmurs after he walked past.
'Was that Sideswipe or Sunstreaker."
He couldn't even smirk, his mood soured by the unexpected summons not just back to Earth but now to Ultra Magnus' office.
The same office that Prowl would have filled with books of law and countless datapads. Ones that held enormous amount of strategies for Prowl to access; each would have been categorized and carefully placed for easy reference. The same office that Prowl was intended to have spent countless cycles in. It would have practically been a second quarters for the tactician.
Sideswipe had managed to avoid the office for so long.
Rodimus had personally doled out the punishment and lectures after Sideswipe had attacked the various officers around the base, ending his bout of savage anger with the assault upon Jazz that had landed him and his brother the new assignment to an offworld station in an outlying sector.
He chimed for the City Commander's attention and the door compliantly opened.
The briefest of moments Sideswipe had to reset his optics. He had the flash of a vision of a black and white mech watching the door, hands clasped before him and doorwings stiff and lifted high in anger.
Except Ultra Magnus sat there instead, his large shoulder struts standing out like the doorwings in Sideswipe's memory, his hands clasped on the desk before him.
Sideswipe gasped for air to cool systems that suddenly surged with emotion long pent-up.
"Come inside and sit down Sideswipe, you're not in trouble." 'Yet' hung in the air, tensing every cable in Sideswipe's body.
"I'd rather stand if you don't mind, sir. Prime asked for me to come after I was done here."
Prime, not just little Roddy-all-grown-up.
Optimus Prime.
Returned from the dead.
Sideswipe had never had a chance to trace the funeral barge that had carried away the bodies of the former command staff. Though he had requested a shuttle, the request had been denied on account of his unstable behavior at the time.
Ultra Magnus' oversized optics tilted, but his face remained inscrutable; a near perfect study of the emotionless mask Prowl could call down almost without thinking about it. "Very well then, this shouldn't take terribly long."
Sideswipe approached the desk at Ultra Magnus' beckoning hand. He noticed, then, that his other hand held a container, black and covered in the strangest, most intricate designs.
"As you are surely aware, it's regulation to go through any departed's accoutrements when they have no bonded to entrust them to. While sorting through Second-in-Command Prowl's we found this." He turned his hand, letting the light play over the swirls and spikes decorating the metal. "With you going into forced stasis and then your assaults on the officers, it got lost in the shuffle."
Sideswipe's processor spiked and he jerked forward a step when he noticed three distinct chevrons and a rounded hump in the midst of the tangle of lines. He snapped a geometrical coding program online and suddenly the tangle broke down into an ordered mess of the secret code Prowl had concocted to arrange meetings time.
"Sideswipe? Do you recognize this?"
The room swam as Sideswipe numbly shook his head. "I've never seen that before."
Ultra Magnus (or one of them in Sideswipe's disoriented view) hummed, his fingers tightening around the box almost imperceptibly. "Prowl has always studiously kept a list of his belongings on hand. He also had compiled a list of who exactly should receive what." The large optics narrowed at the red warrior. "Why would an officer leave anything for you?"
Sideswipe huffed, but he itched to get his hands on that box. "Frag me? He probably wants to get me back for all the pranks I pulled while he was here?"
Ultra Magnus' fingers clenched around the rectangular box in his hands. His lips pulled down, clearly not believing Sideswipe's flimsy reasoning. Inexplicably, he set his dental plates squealing, wrought with grief. His vocalizer glitched for a moment. "Prowl was a good… friend. He taught me how to be more than a soldier. He showed me that there is more to this existence than senseless war. It is a lesson I have tried my hardest not to forget. It's one I don't think I could ever have taught him." There was no mistaking the movement of the blue fingers, the emotion that pulled at the City Commander's face. "I have always wished that he could find that same comfort, even if it wasn't with me." The large optics lifted from their examination of the box to meet Sideswipe's own eyes, and the grief suddenly dissipated, to simmer deep within the large blue lights.
Sideswipe stiffened under the wordless scrutiny, not even relaxing when offered the box. He stared at Ultra Magnus, slowly reaching out and sliding the box out of the large hand.
Ultra Magnus suddenly snatched Sideswipe's wrist, pulling the smaller mech closer, nearly onto the desk. "I know that he had a good reason for leaving anything for a single soldier when he had so many to care for."
They stared at each other for a long time, before Sideswipe jerked his chin down once in a nod.
The hand released and pulled away, though the two mechs continued to stare at each other. Words surged through his vocalizer, but none of them he could say without compromising his deepest held secret. Sideswipe finally took a step back, clutching the box to his chest.
"Aren't you going to open it?" Ultra Magnus' tone conveyed just how little of a question, much less a request, it was.
Sideswipe glared at the City Commander, but obligingly opened the box. Snakes leapt out of the box, jaw's snapping at the apex of their spring before falling.
Sideswipe stared utterly dumbfounded by the long coils wrapped in cloth that draped over his arms. Was this really from Prowl? Black velvet lined the bottom, and suddenly he realized the interior of the box didn't match the dimensions of the exterior. He forced a half smile. "Heh. Finally getting me back for all those pranks I pulled."
Ultra Magnus pressed his lips together in an obvious attempt to keep from smirking. "He would wait until he was dead. Too dignified otherwise." Ultra Magnus wiggled his fingers, hand held out expectantly.
Sideswipe hesitated, but understood how suspect it was to have an officer leave anything for a subordinate. Sideswipe handed the open box to the commander. Ultra Magnus turned the box, peering inside and then examining the outer casing. Sideswipe flinched internally, any mech with half a processor would realize that they didn't match.
Yet Sideswipe found the box offered back to him.
"You should go see, Prime. Don't want to make him wait."
Sideswipe stared in shock, taking the small gag toy back.
Ultra Magnus pointedly turned to his datapads, sending an imperious look toward Sideswipe when the warrior continued to linger.
Sideswipe shook off his shock and turned, walking out with the box held to his chest. He turned down the next corridor, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. He made short work of the lining, and out of the box tumbled a smaller box, its casing gleaming and glittering with tiny bits of shiny metal set within traditional latticework.
"Primus..."
A spark box.
Prowl had left him a spark box. He thought Jazz had received it already- just like most everything else- while Sideswipe had been in the medbay.
Emotion coursed through his systems like energon. His engine chuttered and he brought the box up to rub the delicate wiring against his cheek. He stood there for a good breem, the box hidden in his hand as he pressed it against his face; vision glitching with static and fans working.
Prowl really had thought of everything...
"Fraggit Sides, where are you? You're supposed to be here already!"
Sideswipe jolted out of his daydream and subspaced the box. He would open it later, somewhere much more private.
Hurried steps carried him down the hallways of Autobot City, and Sunstreaker waited outside the closed door. He slapped Sideswipe upside the back of his head as he came up. "Congratulations, genius, Prime called in someone else instead of waiting for you. You'll never guess who. Slagger's in there right now talking to Prime. Start trouble and I'll make what Trypticon did to you look like a cruise down the street after we kick the retrograde's aft."
Sideswipe tilted his head at his brother, and then every cable tensed as he caught Sunstreaker's meaning. Sunstreaker headed for his duty shift, leaving Sideswipe to wait outside of Prime's office like a spring coiled too tightly. He waited for five breems before the door opened.
Jazz stepped out, tensing slightly under the red twin's angry glare. The saboteur gritted his dental plates and approached Sideswipe. They stared at each other, until Jazz reached out, hand hovering just above Sideswipe's shoulder strut. If he moved a micron closer, Sideswipe would rip out his arm, maybe that damned visor, too.
"I... always thought Prowl had told Sunny. You should just fess up. Ain't no good t' hide it anymore. Prowl's gone, ya can't get in trouble anymore."
Sideswipe stared at the saboteur. "You told him. You fragger, after all that slag you told Prime anyways!'"
Jazz held out his hands in a placating manner. "Hey man, Prime can't do nothin' now. It happened. And you should come clean, too. It's what Prowl would want."
Jazz easily caught the fist thrown toward his face, scowl marring his normally pleasant face.
"Don't talk about Prowl like you knew or even cared what he wanted."
Sideswipe shoved past the officer and entered the office.
"I was wondering if you were going to come in."
Prime sat at his desk like he'd never left it. A blue hand lifted, gesturing toward the empty chair. Sideswipe took the offered seat, trepidation churning his fuel tank. The office looked like it did when Sideswipe had last been here, receiving his assignment (and lecture) from Rodimus. Datapads cluttered the desk a little more than at the time, likely Optimus was making an effort to catch up on everything that had happened while he was dead.
As happy as it made him to see Prime again, it hurt that there hadn't been any reports about any of the others coming back. Hadn't they been on that same barge? Fought alongside him throughout this war? Defended him when politicians tried to destroy his career? Brought him back from near death countless times? Did the impossible at his command? Weren't they worth bringing back just as much?
"I read that your trouble-making took a turn for the worse and forced the command staff to reassign you. They weren't sure if they were dealing with you, or your brother." Prime tilted his head. "I never thought you would assault any of the officers for no reason. What brought this anger on?"
Sideswipe shrugged. "Guess I was just fritzed at what the Decepticons did."
"Sideswipe," Optimus vented in frustration, "I want to hear the truth from your vocalizer. Jazz has given me a very disturbing account."
Sideswipe's chin sagged down and he thought of all the effort Prowl had made to hide their affair. The time spent waiting in anticipation of their next meeting. The cycles spent poring over various ways to arrange a rendezvous. All blown because of one slagging nosy saboteur.
"What the slag can I say that Jazz hasn't already, sir? What do you want me to tell you? Yeah, fine. Prowl and I went off and blew each other's circuits whenever we could. He'd cuff me and chain me up and then have his way with me until I was screaming for overload. There, happy? Is that what you wanted to know?"
"Sideswipe sit down, this is not an inquiry. Simply a straightening of the facts. Now tell me, seriously this time, what happened between you and Prowl?"
Sideswipe sat down, only then realizing that he'd stood and tried to loom over the much taller mech. Over Optimus Prime. He clapped his hands to his head, rubbing at his audio horns. "I don't even know where to start," he muttered.
"The beginning is a normally good place."
Sideswipe glanced at Prime from between his wrists. "It was back on Cybertron."
Prime sat back, shocked into silence.
How did you pinpoint when a fondness turned into love? "Probably started after you stopped Prowl from playing Firestorm with me." Sideswipe sagged in the chair.
"You let him take advantage of his position that lo-"
Sideswipe snapped up straight in his seat. "He wasn't taking advantage of me!" Anger scraped over his tone, roughening his voice. He jabbed a finger at the commander. "Prowl would never take advantage of his position. I loved him, and the feeling was mutual." Something in him seemed to break, and his ventilators hitched, catching his intake. The word had tumbled out without thought and struck something as it passed through his vocalizer. He pressed his lips together, curling into himself, unable to help the surges that shook his frame.
"And Jazz? What was his part?"
The gentle tone, and the powerful voice compelled Sideswipe to answer. "Slagger was blackmailing Prowl into sleeping with him. Didn't he tell you?" Half snarl, half static sob, Sideswipe glared up at the Autobot Commander. "He found out about us accidentally, and threatened to tell you if Prowl didn't give him what he wanted." Sideswipe's shoulders sagged even further if that was possible. It felt like his systems were powering down. "I didn't find out about it until a fragging year later, and then you went off to Cybertron."
"Jazz told me. I couldn't believe it was true. Is there anymore I should know?"
"The frag more do you want? He's gone, okay. He's dead!"
Optimus sighed, his optics dim. "This is exactly what I was trying to prevent, what I never wanted anyone to go through. We have a war to fight, and no time to waste on scandals in the ranks. I'm very disappointed in all of you."
Sideswipe's fingers twitched with the urge to strike something, anything. "Disappointed? Is that all you fragging have to say? That you're disappointed?"
Optimus tilted his head, immutable expression giving away nothing of his supposed disappointment. "What would you have me say, Sideswipe? My most trusted officers have been lying to me: one for far too many millennia to count and the other using his training against his fellow Autobots."
A sneer pulled at Sideswipe's lip. "So what? Are you going to dish out punishment now?" Sideswipe twitched his chin up, stiffening his shoulders. "I'll take whatever punishment you want to dish out, Prime. Just so long as you rip something from his aft too."
Prime shifted, his brow ridge lifting. "And you speak for Prowl as well?"
Sideswipe jerked back, optics wide. "What are you saying?"
"Prowl was wrong to take advantage of you- don't interrupt me." Optimus glared at Sideswipe until the warrior subsided from the objection buzzing through his vocalizer. "He used his position to coerce you into thinking it was okay. I trusted him to always lead the crew by example, and do the right thing. He lied to me, Sideswipe. As have you. How can I trust you anymore?" The blue head tilted, optics narrowed. "I couldn't punish Jazz without also taking away from Prowl. You would want me to do that to him."
Sideswipe exploded to his feet, his hands slamming down on the desk and rattling the stacks of datapads. ""But Jazz blackmailed him! HE RAPED PROWL AND YOU'RE GOING TO LET HIM GET AWAY WITH IT!"
"Do not take that tone with me!" Optimus suddenly loomed over the warrior, reminding Sideswipe that he hadn't lost any of his considerable height. "Not when you and Prowl have both been hiding this for so lo-"
"No, Prime! Don't you feed me this cold slag." Sideswipe couldn't loom over such a big mech, but he didn't shrink back from the Autobot Commander, and his black finger jammed at the windshield. "This would never have happened if it hadn't been for you and that stupid slagging rule. Jazz would never have been able to use this against Prowl; we wouldn't have even needed to hide-"
"Those rules are there for a reason. Do you think it pleases me having to split apart lovers and bonded? Do you think I like having to dole out punishment because mechs can't help who they develop feelings for? These laws have kept this army running at the efficiency that's allowed us to-"
"Oh, so you're saying that Rodimus blew up all our chances at winning this war, is that it? Sunny was blowing First Aid's fuses on a pretty regular basis before we were reassigned, and they both functioned perfectly fine when they needed to." Pain that Sideswipe long since had thought to be eased clutched at his spark. "I watched them and I see what it could have been like for Prowl and I and... and... I hate you for keeping us apart." Sideswipe plopped back down in the chair, his limbs heavy and systems spent; drained from the outburst.
Sorrow tightened Optimus' face, and he sat as though pressed down by an enormous weight. "I am not saying that what Jazz did was any better than your and Prowl's deception. I simply cannot outright demote Jazz without explaining why, and not without also demoting Prowl. Is that what you want to happen, Sideswipe? Don't you think that Prowl's been hurt enough?"
Sideswipe snarled, air hissing between his clenched dental plates. "If Prowl were alive-"
"All three of you would have been lucky just to be thrown in the brig." Optimus leaned forward, the light of his optics softening. "Thank you for telling me the truth about what was going on. You said it yourself he's dead. The truth is that we simply can't run the base like he's still alive."
A thought had Sideswipe sitting up again, hope pulsing through his spark. "Unless you think you can bring him, and the others back?" He didn't bother to hide the petulance that strung his voice a few octaves higher than it was intended to go.
"I'm sorry, Sideswipe, but the barge was destroyed. Their bodies were on board. There's no recovering them anymore."
Sideswipe clenched his hands on his thigh, looking anywhere but at his commanding officer. "No way huh?" He suddenly wanted nothing more than to retreat to his temporary quarters and curl up and disappear into the blankness of recharge. "Are we done here, sir?"
"There is one last thing. Jazz didn't think that you were aware of the situation when Prowl left for Moon Base 2."
Sideswipe leveled his most neutral gaze on Optimus. "What about it?"
Rather than call Sideswipe on his tone, Optimus continued as though he hadn't spoken. "I noticed that the tension seemed to have eased between them. He confirmed that they had straightened things out. Jazz had apologized for what he'd done, and Prowl had accepted it. Now you should, too."
Blue optics narrowed and the warrior grumbled almost to himself. "He says. But I never got the chance to find out, did I?" Sideswipe stood and turned to go, but the Autobot Commander softly calling his name had him drag himself back around.
"I am sorry for your loss, Sideswipe."
Sideswipe dimmed his optics, unable to command his vocalizer online. He turned and left Optimus Prime's office.
Sideswipe collapsed on the bottom berth, not really caring that Sunstreaker would likely be angry at having his bunk occupied. He pounded both fists against the padding, seeking release for the nameless emotion that coursed through his circuits and clenched his bearings tight. His vision blitzed out in static, and his vocalizers hitched, unable to draw in air. He wanted to scream and throw things. He thought he'd been through all this already, but pain still shot through him, and his diagnostics could find no cause.
:Error. Error.: they told him, :Malfunction not found. Code all clear. Sensors read nominal.:
His spark cried otherwise. It sparked across his wires and ached in his joints.
He had nothing to grieve over, nowhere to go now. No way to say a final goodbye...
A thought occurred to him and he accessed his subspace, pulling out the small box that Ultra Magnus had given him. He rubbed his thumb over the glittering surface, feeling the texture of the inlaid metals. Surges trembled through his fingers, as he realized that he held this last little piece from Prowl. Something of his own that he'd never have to share.
He dimmed his optics, trying to clear the static from his vision, trying to quell the tension in his joints. Fingers shaking, he lifted the lid.
A memory chip lay nestled in the soft gel lining the box. Next to a folded piece of cloth.
Sideswipe stared at them uncomprehending for a long time, then he stood, leaving the box on the padding, and fumbled about the room, opening drawers and doors without noticing where he was. He didn't stop until he returned to the berth with a datapad.
Carefully he plucked the chip out of the lining and inserted it into the datapad.
Every system seemed to stall, even his visual processor stopped refreshing.
A document appeared on the screen, silently requesting a password. Sideswipe dimmed his optics; they had an extensive list of passwords to cycle through. With great trepidation Sideswipe entered the first one that came to mind. It came as no surprise that it didn't work and he tried one after another. As none of them worked, he pondered what clues Prowl had left. The box, containing their rendezvous codes. His fingers stilled, and he cycled air in anticipation. He tried again, this time using the Cybertronian date for their first arranged meeting.
The screen went blank and then filled with words.
A letter?
From Prowl?
After he said not to leave any evidence?
"You slagger..." Sideswipe couldn't help but whisper, shoulders shaking, unable to focus on the words for a long breem. "You couldn't even follow your own orders."
He swallowed great droughts of air, trying to cool his systems, and force his optics to focus on the precise lines printed on the page.
'My Dearest…
It is with great trepidation that I write this. I need not say your name, for you know it yourself, still I wish to refer to you by some appellation besides a nauseatingly sweet endearment. Unfortunately, I cannot concoct one that is guaranteed to annoy you as much as you annoy me with 'sparkles.' So I return your 'sparkles' with one of my own, sparkles. Therefore, allow me to restart this letter more appropriately addressing you...
My Dearest Sparkles,
I wish you to know that after writing that one line, I had to wait a full breem for my logic programs to restart. I know that this will amuse you, and I am certain that if you are reading this, then you are in need of a little levity.
For if you are reading this, I have quite likely been terminated.
Truthfully, I never calculated myself expiring first. Logically, as a frontliner one would think that it would be you terminating first, though it pains me how easily I can process that. I have always thought of myself as more capable of handling your termination than you would be mine. You are so much more emotional than I am and grief from someone close to you being terminated might be more than you can handle. This is not a lack of anything on your part, 'sparkles,' rather it is because when you give yourself to someone, you give wholly of yourself. Indeed, if there is any lack, it is within me and my inability to contemplate my emotion.
Looking back at that last paragraph, I notice how I avoid using the most dreaded of words that is so normal for mechs in our professions.
Dead.
If you are reading this, I am quite likely dead.
I would hope by now that you have perhaps had a chance to recover from my death. Though I am cannot presume that this isn't opening old welds if you have.
Certainly I can extrapolate that you are wondering at my reasoning for this letter when I specified no evidence should be left. However, if I am... dead than it should not matter who finds out.
Yes, I had to take another break right there for my processors to work that out.
I write this, for it seems highly inappropriate to simply leave a sparkbox, not knowing when the last time we would have a chance to speak to each other as lovers.
I realize that I am not nearly as verbal with my affection as you would like, sparkles. Yet I hope that I do not need to reassure you of the feelings that I can't express.
Even now words fail me.
If I am to die before you, then know that your happiness is of the utmost importance in my processor. If you would give me anything, it is to know that you live your life to the fullest.
I'll look for you in the Matrix. May this guide your way.
Till All Are One,
Prowl
Addendum: Make sure Sunstreaker stays out of trouble.'
He shook; hands rattling against the datapad as surges swept through his systems.
Sideswipe read the letter over and over again. Algorithmic programs examined the precise blocking of each letter, his internal decoder running the wording through its complex codes in the hopes to draw all he could out of the paragraphs.
'May this guide your way.'
Sideswipe froze. May what guide your way? Prowl wouldn't assume a simple heartfelt letter to form any connection to another mech.
But a cloth?
Something in the cloth?
Finally Sideswipe set the datapad down, picking the box out to scoop out the simple black cloth. He detected an ovular shape, hard and ridged with edges, within its folds. Optics wide, he floundered about with the folds until the object within spilled into his hand.
Rays of light pierced through his fingers as he uncurled them.
A berenzyte crystal.
A piece of spark.
It sparkled and shone with its own light. A tiny fragment of stone from a distant moon long since destroyed for these very jewels. Valued for their likeness to a Cybertronian spark, they were often left as a sign of deepest devotion when a bond hadn't been plausible or possible.
A sob racked his ventilator, the cough of an engine with a faulty transmission. He pulled his hand close to his chestplate, fingers curled protectively around the crystal.
He curled into himself, curled over this last piece of Prowl, a berenzyte crystal dipped in the light and energy of a spark.
He would have given up the finest of high grade, and pulled duty for a vorn if only he could have a chance to hold Prowl again, to speak to him and kiss his lips one last time.
"I miss you," the words squeaked out of a glitched sob. "Primus, I miss you so much." He sobbed in sputtering rumbles of his engine and staticked bursts of wordless sound. "I'll never forget you. I love you, Prowl." He couldn't find the words for it, to whisper into this last shard of a time gone.
He held this small piece, and after far too long, he finally felt whole.
This scenery is evergreen
I need you far too much, I long to feel your touch.
This scenery is evergreen
You've always been so dear to me…
Author's Note: Another chapter done and one left to post. That one needs work. I have a few issues with this one, if I ever come back and edit the earlier parts of the fic, maybe I'll remember to fix them.
I'm debating if I should even ramble much at the end of the next chapter. (Edit: I'll ramble at least a bit. I deserve it, right?)
Wow… One more chapter…