Chapter 27

Prowl and I meet almost nobody as we walk to the shower. It's so early in the morning that the sun isn't even close to up, and there are almost bots out and also no humans. It feels a little weird being out so, so early, but nobody bothers us, so that works out nicely.

Then we get to the showers and go in to be surprised. Sunstreaker is there, warm water raining down on his half-naked frame. He's still in the process of stripping his armor off, and he glances over at us idly.

I stop and look at him, astonished because I never see him this early in the morning. Prowl has also stopped. Prowl is also looking at him.

"What are you doing in here?" Prowl says like Sunstreaker has no rightful business in the public showers. But Sunstreaker belongs here as much as the next bot.

"Washing," Sunstreaker says like Prowl has no rightful business asking him anything. "And you?" He's being sarcastic, I think. He continues removing armor.

"Verra funny," Prowl says, but he doesn't sound amused at all. He sounds… mildly accusatory? "Everyone on this base knows you are not a morning bot."

Oh, I am slow. I was surprised at finding Sunstreaker here at this hour, but Prowl? Prowl is suspicious.

"And everyone on this base knows you ain't set a pede outta medbay in two weeks," Sunstreaker replies to Prowl, coolly and also mirroring Prowl's tone to certain degree. The slight drawl lets me know that something is up. Is he trying to provoke Prowl? Also, it's been two weeks?

"That-" Prowl starts to say, but I interrupt him (perilous, I know, but necessary).

"Never mind," I say deliberately and coaxingly. "Sunstreaker, I think Prowl just thinks it's weird to find you up so early in the morning, so if you'll just explain briefly why you're up so early, I'm sure he'll logically settle down. We don't need a skirmish over nothing." I hope all that was the right things to say.

"Mmmkay," Sunstreaker says, loosening his after-plating. "I lost track of time and haven't been to sleep yet. It's not early for me." He puts his after-plating in the tub of soapy water by his shower. "It's late. Any more questions?" he asks, going for his codpiece now.

Prowl looks just slightly skeptical but shakes his helm.

I nudge Prowl to get him moving toward a faucet, and he moves, and I'm grateful for that. Sunstreaker makes a motion with his loose codpiece before his puts it in the soapy water, and I only see the motion from the edge of one optic, but I think it might have been a deliberately rude motion. But maybe not. Okay, probably, but I'm just glad Prowl didn't notice. I think Prowl would have taken it the wrong way with the sort of mood he is in right now. And I don't need him and Sunstreaker fighting.

::Be good,:: I intercom Sunstreaker without thinking about it.

::what the frag:: Sunstreaker replies. I don't know if he means it as a statement or a question. He didn't put a question mark on it, but it still could be a question. He leaves off punctuation when he's in a difficult mood. I'm pretty sure he's in a difficult mood.

::You're antagonizing Prowl,:: I clarify.

::yeah:: Again without any helpful punctuation marks.

Prowl is struggling a little at getting his shoulder armor off, and I can't do too many things at one time right now, so I give up intercomming with Sunstreaker and turn my focus to Prowl.

"Let me help with that," I say. I use my medic's assistant tone, the calm firm tone with just a hint of authority, and I put my hand on the back part his shoulder where he can't reach easily. I can tell he's displeased with this, but he's logical enough to realize that he'll just struggle and fail if he tries to do it himself, so he tolerates me doing it. He keeps perfectly still, and I remove his shoulder armor and then his back armor down to his waist.

::you dont owe him that:: Sunstreaker intercoms me when I take a soft scrubby and run warm water onto it.

I put soap on the scrubby and move back over to where Prowl is working at removing some more armor. He gives me a look that says I've interrupted his personal space.

::hes not going to do anything for you:: Sunstreaker intercoms. He's in worse than a difficult mood, I think.

"It's okay," I tell Prowl calmingly. "You know you won't be able to scrub your back very well. Maybe once you've gotten your hands stronger with physical therapy, you can," I say, and he tolerates me as I start to scrub his back, starting at his shoulders.

::He's my friend as well as my patient,:: I intercom Sunstreaker. ::I'll do anything for him.::

::hes not your friend::

Prowl's back tenses in displeasure as I near his wing-connectors with the scrubby. I've done this so many times, but Prowl is acting like I've never done it before. I scrub gently but firmly, same as always.

::Well, I'm still his friend,:: I tell Sunstreaker.

::youre glitched::

::We already knew that,:: I reply. But I do feel a little provoked. There's no reason for Sunstreaker to be this mean to me. Or, no reason that I know of. And that unfairness hurts just a bit. And Prowl's unfairness hurts, too.

::more glitched than previously logged:: Sunstreaker says.

::Stop it,:: I tell him. I send a frown in his direction, but he's not even looking my way.

::make me::

I don't reply. I know I can't make Sunstreaker do anything, or not do something. He's just being a brat right now.

I get a soft cloth to use on Prowl's wings. Prowl also doesn't like this either, but he doesn't have a choice (unless he wants to go with unwashed wings), so he lets me wash his wings. I make sure the water isn't too warm or too cool, and I use the mild soap. I make sure it's just like he's always liked it.

"It's okay," I sooth when Prowl's wing flinches at my touch. "I've done this many times, you know."

::frag those wings::

Sunstreaker!

I feel a burn of some sort of fury. I want to lash out at Sunstreaker and demand to know what his problem is. But I keep still. Very still. And I think. He's not usually this bad. Never this bad since I was new.

::also, frag you::

I do not intercom him.

I intercom Ironhide. ::Please come assist. Need urgent. Sunstreaker is set on starting a fight in showers. Please hurry.::

::On my way, hurrying:: Ironhide replies almost instantly, and relief washes over me, taking away half of my worry.

"Is something wrong?" Prowl inquires, having noticed that I'm just standing there frozen with a dripping cloth in my hand and not wiping his wing.

"Don't fraggin' act like you care, Prowl," Sunstreaker sneers, stepping away from his shower to pick up a scrubby cloth from the nearby bench.

Prowl shifts, turning slowly on his pedes to face and look over at Sunstreaker, perfectly cool and unreadable.

::plz hry faster:: I intercom Ironhide, feeling a panic rising.

"As an Enforcer, it is my duty to show care," Prowl states. He seems all calm, but, standing to the side of him, I can see the tenseness in his bare back, the tightness of muscle cords.

"Uh-huh," Sunstreaker says, stepping away from the bench. The step is in Prowl's direction instead of his shower's direction, and that isn't good. "And where was your duty when the Con was taking Auri?"

Prowl makes the tiniest hissing sound, tiny enough that Sunstreaker can't hear it. I hear it only because I'm right next to Prowl.

"I'd like t'know," Sunstreaker prompts casually. It's that false casual that leads up to something quite deliberately.

"Sunstreaker," I say, trying to distract him and delay whatever he's trying to get at. "Now isn't the time for this. You need to finish washing and then get some good restful sleep, and Prowl needs-"

"Prowl needs to answer," Sunstreaker says, interrupting very smoothly, keeping his tone idle. I realize belatedly that he's closer than he was before, that he must have taken a step very slowly.

Prowl waits a few seconds, and so does Sunstreaker. It's like one of those cowboy Star Wars scenes where two people are looking at each other and intending to shoot each other, and they're waiting for the right moment to see who can whip out a weapon first.

Sunstreaker takes another step in our direction, seeming to wander slowly. He's closing in on prey, though, I think. That's how I feel, anyway, even though I'm not his target. Prowl is.

"Does he like handing femmes off to the Cons after he's had a little fun with them…?" Sunstreaker inquires.

This is a horrible thing to say. Words choke in my vocs, and I can't get them out, so I start toward Sunstreaker.

Prowl puts a hand in front of my face, stopping me. Most bots put a hand on your chest when they want to stop you, as if they can hold you back. But Prowl does this hand-in-front-of-the-face thing because it disrupts things visually. It's very effective for me. I stand still, and my processor has to rethink. It's distracted. Prowl hasn't moved a hand toward me in weeks, hasn't touched or hugged me in weeks. Now his hand is just there in front of me, a palm's-width away from my face. I don't know why, but I lean in just a little and put my face against his hand and find comfort in the press of it.

For a second.

"Gonna hand Praxus off to them once you've had some fun with him?"

I-

Prowl is holding me tightly now, his frame pressed against my side. One hand clamped over my mouth, his arm crooked under mine so I can't elbow him off. And the other arm is over my other shoulder, that hand of his gripping my wrist. It's a little uncomfortable, but not terribly uncomfortable, and this is Prowl. I trust him, and I relax.

"Back off, Sunstreaker," Prowl says quietly, firmly, and warningly.

"Frag off, Prowl," Sunstreaker says coolly, challengingly, and infuriatingly.

I don't want Prowl to go after him (since that would turn into a fight, I'm pretty sure), so I struggle against Prowl's grip just enough to make him think that I am trying to go after Sunstreaker instead. This works. Prowl shifts his attention back to me and holds me more tightly.

"Take it easy," Prowl says to me, calmly, firmly. "You stand down, too. Sunstreaker is somewhat off his processor right now. He needs sleep. You know he would not ordinarily say such things."

I know. I know perfectly well. I still struggle against Prowl just a little, though, trying to buy time for Ironhide to get here. Prowl needs to stay focused on me until Ironhide gets here. Then Ironhide will take care of everything.

"Yeah, I'm never biting and sarcastic, that's for sure," Sunstreaker says. "I usually just sugar-coat slag, don't I."

The door to the showers opens, and Ironhide comes in, and relief washes through me. I relax so fast that I have to lean on Prowl for a moment, and he tolerates it.

"Okay," Ironhide says, sounding easy-going but also like nobody should ever mess with him. "That's enough of whatever was going on."

Sunstreaker glances sideways at Ironhide, and Prowl loosens his hold me just slightly, like he's not sure if he should. I stop leaning on him, and he lets me step away. I step in a direction that it not toward Sunstreaker.

"Thank you for your prompt response time," Prowl says to Ironhide like he's a robot with prerecorded script lines.

"Praxus intercommed me first," Ironhide says. I suspect he didn't like Prowl speaking to him like that. "I was already on the way." He motions at Sunstreaker. "Back to your shower."

"I'm waiting for an answer from Prowl," Sunstreaker says calmly, not budging. I definitely wouldn't talk back to Ironhide like that, especially if I wasn't wearing any armor, but Sunstreaker is very different. "I'll go back when I'm satisfied."

Ironhide looks at Prowl. "Was it a reasonable question?" he asks.

Prowl seems to weigh this in his processor. "It… it was not unreasonable," he says slowly. "But his manner is unreasonable. I…" he trails off, looking for words.

Ironhide waits. We all wait.

"I will answer Sunstreaker once he has had a healthy amount of sleep and is no longer bellicose," Prowl says finally. I look at him because I don't know that last word.

"So you mean never?" Sunstreaker says. So I guess he knows what "bellicose" means.

Prowl makes a tiny motion with his wings. "I mean, no longer more bellicose than usual," he clarifies.

"Is that like 'belligerent'?" I ask since that's a word I do know and it seems to have a similar root.

"Yes," Prowl says at the same time Sunstreaker says, "uh-huh."

"Alright then," Ironhide says easily yet firmly. "Sunstreaker, those are Prowl's terms. He'll answer once you've had a good sleep and aren't actively trying to start a fight. I think that's reasonable, so you'll just have to accept that. Prowl…" He trails off and hesitates. "Anything you want add?"

"Yes," Prowl says. "I am placing a week-long order of curfew upon Sunstreaker from 10pm to 10am wherein he shall stay within his quarters and not go out unless specifically directed by a ranking officer and accompanied by an acceptable escort-"

"Will a Praxian whore do for escort?" Sunstreaker asks. Does he mean me? Or … maybe Prowl (somehow)?

"Revising that to a two-week-long order of curfew," Prowl says. "Furthermore, any additional harassment directed toward Praxus-"

"By 'Praxian whore,' I meant you, Prowl," Sunstreaker says. "Praxus didn't choose to-"

"That's enough," Ironhide cuts in so sternly that his tone makes me dip my wings even though I'm not the one in trouble. "Go finish your shower. And not another word unless you're asking for assistance or making a sincere apology. I'll remain here and then escort you back to your quarters once you're done here, as it's only 5:02, and you're definitely going in that curfew."

Sunstreaker shrugs and goes back to his shower.

"Thank you," Prowl says to Ironhide, looking up at him for a moment. "And you," he says to me, meeting my optics for a moment before moving away to continue his washing. I watch him go and step under his shower to rinse away the soap from his wings and back while he starts stripping the rest of his armor.

"You okay?" Ironhide asks me softly and gently. He touches my shoulder, and I look up at him to see his concern.

I nod. I think I am. On second thought, though, I do feel a little shaky, and I feel the sting of Sunstreaker's words as he tore at me to get to Prowl.

"Maybe not," I revise. He kneels and hugs me. I snuggle, taking refuge against him. I'll be okay. "I'll be okay," I tell him. "Sunstreaker was really mean while trying to provoke Prowl so he could fight him, but… I… I know he is just in a bad mood and needs some sleep to get his processor back in order."

Ironhide rubs my helm, and I like that, but I need to get a move on.

I slip away from Ironhide, and he lets me go and rises.

"I have to wash up," I explain. "Prowl has plans for the day."

"Okay," Ironhide says, glancing toward Prowl. Then I go and get my own shower going while he wanders away to stand closer to Sunstreaker and guard him.

I go to the shower next to Prowl's and strip my armor, setting it in a tub to soak. My fingers shake a little during the process, but I remind myself that I'm okay. I'm okay. I move under the water, letting it splash and play and wash away the fine grime of earth dust. I soap up a scrubby. I wash.

I get to my wings, and Prowl doesn't help me with my wings at all like he used to. I'm very out of practice because he always helped my every single time, so it feels like I don't even know how to use this long-handled scrubby thing. It's annoying and awkward, and I glance over at Prowl, but he looks like he will be rude if I ask for help.

I don't like this, but I don't say anything. Just think complaining thoughts to myself and work on figuring out the method for using this scrubby on my wings.

The Ironhide moves just enough to catch my attention, and I look. Sunstreaker, wrapped with a towel now, has also moved, but I guess I hadn't noticed. I watch as Sunstreaker makes a "stand down, it's okay" motion at Ironhide, and Ironhide watched as Sunstreaker comes over to me.

I hold the long-handled scrubby and eye him with some skepticism.

Maybe I don't want to engage him, so I look away. But I'm stuck trying to figure out how to use this-

"Hey," Sunstreaker says quietly, sounding subdued and like he has a giant helm-ache incoming. "I…"

I spare him a glance, and he looks apologetic. Or at least like he regrets a few things in general.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Well…" I say mildly, "Don't do that again."

He does a half-smile, half-grimace sort of expression. "No guarantees," he says, which is completely honest of him, and I appreciate that.

"Mm-hm," I say, trying to sound like I'll contemplate forgiving him eventually, but I know I've pretty much already forgiven him. I don't know if I'm even capable of holding a personal grudge. I can have an involuntary complete panic if I see the wrong color in the wrong place, but that's not the same as a personal grudge.

"Um," Sunstreaker says, and I glance at him again because he sounds awkward and not confident like he usually does. He lifts a hand in my direction. "Uh… Let me help you with that…?"

I guess this is one of the last things I was expecting, but I play it calm because this is Sunstreaker.

"Okay," I say, adding a slight shrug that makes him laugh for some reason. Both Prowl and Ironhide look at him instantly.

"What scrubby you want?" he asks me in an idle tone and like he hasn't noticed the two sets of blue optics fixed on him.

I hand him my preferred soft cloth for my wings, and he takes like he's never held a washcloth before, even though I've seen him use a washcloth many times to clean stuff in his studio. I turn a wing toward him, and he doesn't do anything for a couple seconds. I guess he's either staring at the cloth or my wing, or shifting between both, but I'm patient and wait with trust in my spark.

After another second, Sunstreaker puts a supportive steadying hand on the lower outer corner of my wing.

"That's right," I tell him, figuring he could use some positive feedback, and besides he is doing it correctly. "Now wash with the other hand," I prompt.

I glance covertly at Prowl, and for just a tiny second I think he's going to stalk over and take the cloth away from Sunstreaker, but he doesn't. His expression goes back to unreadable, and he goes back to washing himself.

Sunstreaker snorts slightly, but then he carefully runs the washcloth up the outside edge of my wing. Up and then down. That's okay. It's not my preferred way of getting my wing washed, but it's okay. I am not about to say a word of complaint at Sunstreaker doing something with nice intent. Then he runs the washcloth up again, and then across to the inside edge and then back to the outside edge. What is he doing?

He pauses. If he wipes diagonally next, I will have to try really hard to not turn my helm and look skeptically at him over my shoulder. The pause grows longer. Long enough that I almost look at him over my shoulder anyway.

Then he moves the washcloth back to the top outer corner and starts a good little circular scrubbing motion that's just right, moving the circle little by little along toward the inside edge. This is also just right, and I lean into it comfortably, letting my body language tell him that he's doing well since I think he probably doesn't want me to say anything.

He doesn't say anything himself as he washes my wing. He finishes washing that wing and then washes the other one, and my wing-connectors and the middle of my back where I can't reach. It doesn't feel uncomfortable, but it does feel a little odd, Sunstreaker washing me when he's (basically) shown no inclination to touch, like ever.

"Okay?" he says, handing me the washcloth.

I nod, accepting the cloth. "You did great," I say. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Ironhide explained the method," he says. Right. He still hates any praise.

"Well… you didn't have to listen to him," I say, but that's not exactly what I mean, and he snorts at me and then wanders off because, of course, he had to listen to Ironhide. I guess what I meant was that he could have followed Ironhide's direction but not done it very well. Then again, Sunstreaker always does something the best he knows how, so… I sigh at myself and go on with my washing.

I finish washing just a little before Prowl does, even though he started first because he's slower, hands not as nimble. I start drying off, and Ironhide comes over. Sunstreaker is looking drowsy and argumentative by the door.

"We're heading out now," Ironhide says as Prowl comes over and picks up his towel.

Prowl nods in acknowledgement.

"Play nice, okay?" Ironhide says, looking at Prowl. I look at Prowl, too.

Prowl glances up at Ironhide for a second before he starts toweling himself and says, "I will be devoting my time to my duties and have no intention of engaging in-"

"Prowl," Ironhide sighs.

Prowl glances up at Ironhide, frowning because he's been interrupted. Maybe also because he's a little confused. Then he says "oh," almost silently. "You meant that figuratively."

"Yes, I meant that figuratively," Ironhide says drily but also gently.

"Understood," Prowls says, going back to his toweling. And if you think about it, just saying "understood" is not an actual agreement to play nice, so Prowl has in no way verbally bound himself to playing nice. I think about it. Ironhide looks at Prowl for another few moments, so I suspect he's thinking that as well.

"Just…" Ironhide hesitates, looking for words. "Please cut everyone a little slack and go easy on them. We're all… dealing with grief right now, and you demanding reports exactly on time isn't going to help anything."

Prowl frowns and then tilts a wing slightly. "I will tolerate a four-hour delay on reports," he says begrudgingly.

Ironhide eyes him like it's too early in the morning to deal with this sort of thing, whatever it is.

"Well, intercom me if you need anything," he says finally.

Prowl nods once like he's ready for Ironhide to clear out already.

"That goes for you, too," Ironhide says to me, his tone a little different. It's hard to say what the difference is, but I think he knows that I won't hesitate to intercom him. Whereas Prowl wouldn't intercom except as a last resort.

"I will," I say, meaning it completely.

Then Ironhide goes and gently wakes Sunstreaker and guides him out of the showers.

I watch, and then I turn to help Prowl dry his wings, and he puts up a hand to stop me. Like last time, I move to put my face on his hand, but this time he pulls his hand back.

"Stop that," he orders. "Tend your own wings."

"No," I say. I think for a couple seconds because I need to argue effectively. "Prowl, it's much more efficient if we help each other with our wings."

He looks to the side a little bit because he can't argue against that.

"You need to learn to manage on your own," he says. Glitchy-helm. "And we have plenty of time."

"I can already manage on my own," I say. "I did that the past two weeks and many years before. Now stop arguing with me so we can finish up and get breakfast."

He shakes his helm slightly and starts to move away.

"Prowl," I growl at him. "Stop your nonsense and come dry my wings like you always have. There is no reason to start acting so differently."

"'No reason'?" Prowl sounds like he can't believe that I've just said that. "Do you not comprehend that Auri is gone because of me?"

I can't comprehend that because that idea had never occurred to me. It doesn't even make sense. Even if it were his fault that Auri isn't here right now, that's no reason to treat me differently. No reason…

"I see you do not," he says, sounding tired.

I shift my wings. "Of course I don't. Because that's also nonsense."

For a few moments, I think he's going to give up arguing with me, but then he shifts a little.

"I will explain later," he says. "For now, please respect my wishes to have some space."

Well, I can't argue with that. Not really. My wings tilt and shift a little because I still want to be stubborn and have my way, but I know I need to listen to Prowl and not be a steamroller.

"Okay," I murmur, a little sulky and not pretending to be mature about it.

"Thank you," Prowl says almost as impersonally as if I was some stranger who'd handed him a stylus that he'd dropped.

I dry my own wings and the rest of myself and sulk a little more while I do so. Then, as I'm drying and putting on my armor, I tell myself that I'd better try to cheer up and get my gears together. I'm pretty sure it's going to be a challenging day, and it will probably go better if I have a positive attitude. I must try…

Then I notice that Prowl isn't putting on his regular everyday armor that he had one before. He's putting it away in a box, and he's putting on his heavier, sturdier armor that he would wear for battle practice.

I think of how Sunstreaker had wanted to get into a fight with him. And something in my spark says very quietly, "oh, no," because I know Prowl doesn't do things on a whim.

A/N: I used to get like 8, 9, 10, even 15 and 20 reviews per chapter on my previous stories... but these days, I get 1, 2, 3, maybe 4 if I'm lucky. I don't know if people are just tired and don't feel like writing even a small response, or... if people don't like my writing anymore, or what. Was it a bad choice to write in present tense? First person? I don't know. It makes me sad. Shout out to Bumblebee4ever for not abandoning me.