The Ties That Bind 4
As he made his way to the rec room, Prowl considered what he'd learned about both the disability of the girl sitting in his right hand, and the girl herself. He'd easily noticed the differences in the way in which the girl moved without her cane versus the hesitancy and caution when she didn't have it. He thought that her use of the cane was an excellent adaptation, and silently applauded her for it. He was almost certain that a bot with an unrepairable condition like that might choose to be offlined rather than face the difficulties that everyday life would present, but this human had apparently chosen to meet that challenge head on. To him, it indicated a type of mental strength that he could easily respect.
Prowl knew almost nothing about Stephanie, except that she had been crippled, her family killed in the crossfire of a battle amongst Cybertronians, and that she'd been ill when Jazz had brought her to the base. It was at once obvious to Prowl that Jazz had been responsible for setting up the necessities for the girl to share their quarters. He wasn't certain of the saboteur's motives, but he was sure that Jazz intended to help the girl in some way.
Although he held no immediate objections to the girl's presence that could be considered valid at that time, he still would have preferred to be asked. If Stephanie were to become a somewhat permanent addition to their quarters, then Prowl would have to ensure that certain measures were taken for her safety. The only real problem that would have to be taken into account was the fact that Jazz had already made the arrangements, and moved the girl in. Prowl knew that any objection he voiced now, would be instantly seen as a rejection of Stephanie, and would most likely cause further problems to his already damaged relationship with Jazz.
Prowl knew that the normally easygoing mech felt truly horrible about what Prowl had experienced upon his death. That guilt only added fuel to the melancholy fire that Jazz was currently going through. Prowl knew that Jazz didn't regret what he'd done in that final fight, but he also knew that Jazz was now feeling horrendous levels of guilt for being brought back when so many other deserving bots hadn't been. The horrendous depths of the pain that filled the spark of the notoriously happy mech was something that Prowl alone truly knew.
Suddenly, Prowl's logic processors hitched and nearly stopped functioning for a moment as a very unwelcome thought occurred to him. Stephanie was a surviving victim of the very same battle in which Jazz had been killed. Did Jazz want to help the girl in an effort to assuage the guilt that he was feeling? It was a likely scenario, and one that had a high probability of being accurate. Certain that he now understood the reasoning behind Stephanie's presence in their quarters, Prowl decided to let the matter rest for the most part, except that he did intend to have Jazz ask before any more such decisions were made.
Seeing that the rec room was currently empty, Prowl claimed the table nearest to the entrance. Even though he'd finally taken Ratchet's advice and took the day off, he still wanted to be readily available in case of an emergency. The tactician sat down at the table and placed his right hand on the table just on the other side of the human sized furniture so Stephanie could sit facing him.
"My hand is directly on the table. If you'll turn to your left when you stand on the table, you'll find that the table and chairs in your size are located three feet in front of you." Prowl instructed her.
Stephanie scooted forward until she felt the edge of the mech's hand. Getting to her feet, she put her right hand in front of her as she followed the directions. She easily found both the chair and the table right where Prowl had told her it would be. As she sat down, she couldn't help but wonder why the mechs were so nice and helpful to her. First Jazz, then Ratchet, and now Prowl; all them had given her help of some kind. To her, it didn't matter that most of the assistance was simply directions; it was still more help than she'd received from anyone except Old Miss Connors or her therapist since she'd left the hospital.
"How do I find out what's on the menu?" She asked curiously.
Prowl's doorwings stiffened slightly as he realized that the girl was unable to read the menu displayed on the wall. That was when he understood that there would be a number of things that she would require assistance with. He wondered if Jazz had any realistic idea of what exactly he had gotten the two of them into.
"Since there are quite a number of items on the menu, perhaps I should give you the categories first, so that we can eliminate those items that you do not want." Prowl finally suggested.
"Okay, that sounds like a good idea." Stephanie answered politely.
"There are a number of plate dinners, sandwich meals, and a few soups. Which category appeals to you?"
"Soups! My Mommy always said that soup is what you need when you're sick." Stephanie exclaimed eagerly.
"I seem to recall having heard something to that effect myself. There are three soups available. Beef vegetable, and chicken noodle with vegetables are served daily, and the soup of the day is chili." Prowl responded.
"Chicken noodle! That's what Mommy always gave us! I'd like a great big bowl of that with lots of crackers, a huge glass of milk and a cup of coffee, please." Stephanie said happily.
A stern looking frown crossed Prowl's face as he looked down at the girl seated at the miniature table in front of him. "I may be mistaken, but I would think that coffee is a beverage which is normally consumed by adults. I believe you are somewhat young to be drinking such."
"But... but Ratchet said I could. He said I could have two cups and that's it. I only had one with my breakfast, so that means I can have a second cup now, right?" Stephanie reasoned hopefully.
Prowl considered contacting Ratchet for confirmation of the girl's orders, but then decided otherwise. For one thing, she had to know that such a fact would be far too easily confirmed or denied, and considering that she had quoted the medic directly made for one more reason to believe her. Another reason that he didn't immediately contact the CMO was that he had given his word to Optimus to take a day off and have absolutely nothing to do with responsibility except in case of emergency. This obviously didn't constitute any type of emergency, so Prowl let the matter rest.
"I suppose that will be acceptable. However, should Ratchet state that he instructed otherwise, you will not be allowed any more coffee until such time as you are of legal age. Is that agreeable?" Prowl countered in an attempt to verify the story.
Stephanie nodded her head quickly. "Mrs. Lennox and Jazz even heard him say it. If I can only have two cups a day, then I want one with breakfast and the other with lunch."
"Very well." Prowl acquiesced as he placed the order for her food along with his own request of a container of mid grade energon, and a few sticks of mineral ore.
While waiting for their orders to be brought out, Prowl decided to spend the time getting to know more about this girl that Jazz had apparently decided to make their new room mate.
"Tell me about yourself, Stephanie. Where were you living before Jazz brought you here, and why shouldn't you be there now?" Prowl asked her.
Stephanie lowered her head in dejection. She knew that the way she'd been living was nothing to brag about, but at the same time, she was stubbornly proud of the fact that she had accomplished as much as she had.
"I've been living on my own. I ran away from the foster home because they didn't want me there, and made jokes about ways they could get me hurt. So I've been hiding and living in the sewers for over four years now. Jazz promised me that he wouldn't tell on me and send me back to the foster home." Stephanie said uncertain as to how much she could say without getting into trouble.
"I'm not certain that Jazz should have made such a promise to you. There are a large number of laws regarding the care and welfare of one as young as you are. Can you tell me why he would have made such a promise?" Prowl asked curiously.
"I didn't know who he was. I didn't even know what he was, so I didn't know if I could trust him or not. I had this weird feeling that I could trust him for some reason, but I'm still not sure where it came from. I just know that if he hadn't made me that promise, I never would have gotten into that car." Stephanie answered.
Prowl's doorwings rose slightly as he considered the girl's response. "Didn't you state that Ratchet said you would have died if Jazz hadn't brought you here?"
Stephanie nodded her head. "Even after I got puking sick, I still didn't know for sure if he was really going to help me or if he was going to sell me to a drug dealer. So I didn't know for sure if I could trust him. I mean something told me that I could, but I didn't really know for sure."
"You were wise to heed whatever that feeling was, Stephanie. Jazz rarely gives his word on things, but he never does so unless he truly means it. I cannot condone the promise that was made to you though. The law states that you are not allowed to live on your own or make decisions regarding your welfare until you are eighteen years of age. That law was written for the protection of yourself and others like you. What are doing?" Prowl asked when Stephanie got out of her chair and began backing away from it.
"I'm... I'm not going back there. I'll run away again. The others will just try to kill me, or get me hurt even worse than I already am, so if I live long enough, I'll just leave. I don't want to be killed or end up in a wheel chair and blind too!" Stephanie exclaimed bitterly as she shook her head while backing away from the table.
"Stephanie, I need you to sit back down. First of all, Ratchet obviously approves of your presence here. I know for a fact that when it comes to someone of your age that he would have been among the first to notify the proper authorities. Given the amount of time that you have been on base, Ratchet would have had ample opportunity to notify those authorities. If he hasn't done so, then there is apparently a valid reason for that. Another factor that must be considered is your obviously genuine fear in returning to the foster care system from which you have already fled. Both your fear and your comments have made it clear that the environment was not only unsuitable, but unhealthy as well. Therefore, I too will hold my silence in this case until I have been given a valid reason not to." Prowl lectured.
"You're not going to send me back?" Stephanie asked a little confused.
"Not at this time, no. First, there is your health to consider. Second, you are the sole survivor of a heinous crime, and thus the only witness. Third, the nature of your injuries are such that human physicians will not be adequately able to deal with them, and because they were caused by Cybertronian weapons, it means that we need to be held accountable for reparations in dealing with those injuries. Therefore, I believe that it would be best for you to remain here for the time being." Prowl answered.
"So... so I can stay?" Stephanie asked uncertainly. "You... you won't turn me in?"
"For now, no. Not unless circumstances warrant that particular action. Since it is apparent that you are quite willing to flee any environment that you deem unsuitable, and that you will receive proper care and supervision while you are here, it would seem that this is the best available location for you at this time." Prowl stated calmly.
"Besides, you seem to find this base preferable to your previous environment." Prowl added as an after thought.
"Well, I didn't like it when Ratchet yelled at me when I didn't deserve it, but he let me take a good hot shower and even loaned me a scrub brush. Plus, I get plenty to eat here, so I guess it is better so far." Stephanie said honestly. "At least no one makes jokes about tripping me. Mrs. Lennox said that Ratchet burned my clothes, but he gave me these instead, so no one's stealing what little I have either."
"On Cybertron, the sewers are used to dispose of waste material. It has been my understanding that your sewers are used for the same purpose here. Is that not the case?" Prowl asked interestedly.
"Yeah... I mean. Yes Sir. The sewers are filled with poo-doo, and they stink. I'm surprised that Jazz let me in the car... His car... Him? How does that work?" Stephanie finally asked in confusion.
Prowl very nearly smiled at the question since it wasn't one he'd encountered very often. "The car was Jazz's alt mode, and he is that car. Just as all of us can, he is able to transform from one to the other. Being able to look like one of the cars from this world allows us to blend in and move about unnoticed." He explained.
"Okay, that makes sense. Anyway, I'm surprised that Jazz let me in him as bad as I stunk, because I've been living in the sewers, and usually eating out of the dumpsters. Sometimes there would be some vegetables or fruit left in the bins behind a grocery store, but I was usually too late to get those. I hardly ever got to take a bath though, and I think that's why Ratchet burned the clothes I was wearing." Stephanie said ruefully.
"That does not sound like an enjoyable way of living, Stephanie. Why would you choose to live like that, when there are obviously much better places?" Prowl asked as his door wings rose in indignation.
"If you mean places like that foster home, forget it! They stole almost everything I had, and that wasn't much either! Then they made jokes about how they could trip me or slide something at my feet while I was at the top of the stairs. Even when I told on them, the foster parents didn't want to hear about it unless one of them actually did something. I knew if I waited that long it would be too late. So, I left. I know all about places that are better. I had a home. I had a Mommy and Daddy, and a little sister. I had my own bed, and my own toys. I got new clothes when I needed them, and I don't have any of that anymore. The... the only thing I have left is my life, and I'm not going to stay someplace where they hate me, don't want me there, and just want to have fun by getting me hurt or killed." Stephanie said sadly.
"I can understand you not wanting to endure such an environment Stephanie. I believe that you will find that you will not be treated in such a callus fashion while you are here." Prowl told her.
"I hope not. I don't like living the way I do, but I don't want to be around people who hate me either." Stephanie said honestly.
"There will be those who dislike you anyplace you go, Stephanie. This base for example. There are bots here that will most certainly not like you. It won't be because of your injuries, or because of who you are. They will not like you simply because they do not make friends easily. That is how they are, and you will need to learn to accept that. It is a part of life that not everyone will like you." Prowl informed her.
"I can handle that. I just don't want to be someplace where everyone hates me." Stephanie clarified.
"That is a sentiment that I can easily understand. There are actually very few bots among the Autobots who would call me their friend, most do not like me, nor do they appreciate me being here. It is a condition that I am familiar with, and one that I accept." Prowl told her factually.
That caught Stephanie's attention instantly. "Why don't you have many friends?" She asked curiously.
Prowl studied the young girl for several minutes as he considered her question. He knew that his processor configuration was radically different from most other mechs, and that he usually kept his emotion processors shut down because of the havoc his emotions caused him. That was why he only activated his emotion processors in private, so that he wouldn't be embarrassed by overwhelming emotional breakdowns in public. It was not information that he was willing to share with others, because it was a private matter. Although Jazz knew of his processor condition, Prowl preferred that no one else learn of it.
"Most bots do not like me because they believe me to be cold and emotionless." Prowl told her.
Stephanie didn't know what to say to that since she knew that she could hear the feelings in Prowl's voice. Her thoughts on the subject were brought to an abrupt halt by the arrival of Prowl's order of a container of energon, and six bars of ore for him along with the food for her.
"The sustenance you requested has arrived. Are you certain that it will be sufficient for your needs?" Prowl asked curiously when he saw that there was only two types of food in the order.
"Sure! I'm going to enjoy this." Stephanie said excitedly as she picked up a few of the crackers and began crushing them in her right hand before dropping them in her soup.
Prowl watched this process with interest, since it was something he hadn't seen before. Once all of the wafer material had been crushed and added to the soup, the girl wiped her hand on her napkin. Then she used her spoon to mix the wafers in thoroughly. The expression of anticipation instantly changed to one of near blissful delight as the girl took her first bite of the soup. The tactician likened the situation to that of a bot trying high grade for the first time, because the expressions displayed in both cases were far more similar than most would tend to believe.
"It would appear that your food is acceptable." Prowl commented as he sampled one of the bars of mineral ore.
"It's better than that!" Stephanie said after swallowing her first bite. "This is good!" She continued. She didn't mention or even want to think about when or where she'd last had a similar meal, because it would have brought up memories that were too painful, and would have started her crying again.
"It is well that you are enjoying it then." Prowl commented as he continued to relax.
The tactician knew that there were numerous reports waiting to be reviewed, and some that required a thorough after action analysis, but he had given Optimus his word, that he would in fact take the full day off. Upon thinking about it, Prowl decided that it was most likely fortunate that he'd done so. After all, finding out about having Stephanie as a new roommate after a full shift of tedious reports, and a set of prankster twins would have been far more than his processors could properly handle.
Prowl had been considering the girl with his sub-processors when his logic programs identified an incongruity. Stephanie had agreed that the concept of using a cane to determine immediate surroundings had been a good idea by someone. That meant that not only was the concept not originally hers, but that she also didn't know who had originally conceived the idea. So why was she not using a specifically manufactured version, instead of something that was obviously improvised? The only way that he could obtain that answer would be to ask.
"May I inquire as to why you are using an obviously improvised rod to navigate your surroundings? I would think that there would be a more durable manufactured version available, or is that not correct?" Prowl asked after deciding that there was really no polite way to phrase such questions.
"At first, I did have a regular cane, but someone stole it after I ran away from the foster home. Then Old Miss Connors found me, and sort of took me in for a while. She got me an old fishing rod that couldn't be used anymore because the loops were broke off and the tip was a little split. It wasn't any good for fishing anymore, but it worked great for how I used it. I was using that for a long time, but it got broke when Jazz accidentally stopped on it when he was stopping someone from robbing me. I know he didn't mean to break it, and he got me the one you have to replace it. He says that he has a friend making a better one with some sort of sensor in it. He told me some sort of strange name, but I don't remember it." Stephanie answered in between bites of her soup.
"Since you are able to recall Ratchet's designation without difficulty, I would assume that the individual in question would be Wheeljack, since he is our resident inventor, and the only other mech who would be involved in such an endeavor." Prowl stated.
"That's it! Wheeljack! That's the name Jazz told me." Stephanie exclaimed.
"I am curious as to why he would ask Wheeljack to create such a device, but given that Jazz has explained that your replacement would include some manner of sensors, that alone explains it. I am curious though as to how you regard the one you currently have." Prowl replied.
Stephanie frowned as she paused in her eating. She couldn't tell if Prowl was asking about her new cane to get Jazz in trouble or not. "It's just as good as my old one, and it's not cracked or broke, so that makes it even better. Besides, Jazz could have left after he stopped that guy from robbing me, but he didn't. He wanted to make sure I was okay, and when I got sick, he brought me here. Jazz saved me from getting robbed, saved my life, got me here so I can have clean clothes, have a shower, and even got me a new cane! He didn't have to do any of that, but he did! He hasn't done anything wrong!" Stephanie protested with a fierce vehemence.
Prowl's door wings rose a bit, even as his optics narrowed slightly beneath his visor. Obviously, the girl had mistaken the intent behind his question, and had taken it as a slight against Jazz. He was more than a little surprised that she would be staunchly defiant in her defense of the mech. He was more than a little curious as to why that would be, but then he realized that she had already provided an explanation.
A life debt was considered a very serious matter among Cybertronians. It was something that was rife with both obligations, and responsibilities. Prowl did know that while most humans didn't tend to view, or take a life debt as seriously as a typical Cybertronian would, there were those who would try to repay that debt in some fashion, and Prowl was beginning to think that Stephanie was going to be one of them.
"I believe you misunderstand me, Stephanie. I was not maligning Jazz in any way, but was simply asking if there were something else available that might better serve your purpose." Prowl clarified.
"Oh... Sorry. Um... well, the only difference between the one Jazz gave me, and the first one I had, is that the first one was white with a red tip so people would know that it's being used by a blind person, and it would fold up. Other than that, the one Jazz gave me is just as good, and it's just as good as the one that got broke, except this one's new, and isn't cracked or anything." Stephanie answered quietly.
As she resumed eating, she thought about Jazz. She was sure that, giant robot from another world or not, Jazz was still a good person. If he weren't, then he wouldn't have bothered to help her. For more than four years, Stephanie had had it proven to her that most people could not be trusted, but then, in just a short time, by her reckoning, Jazz had shown her otherwise. Not only had he come to her rescue, but he'd also given his word, and he'd kept it. That more than anything meant a lot to her. Suddenly Stephanie stiffened as her eyes widened in surprise when she realized that Jazz hadn't just helped her out, and gotten her a replacement cane, but that he'd also moved her into his own home!
It was such a stunning revelation that she would have fallen down had she not already been sitting. She didn't know why Jazz would do such a thing since he didn't know any more about her, than she really knew him. Probably less she supposed, since Prowl had told her a little about him, but that was beside the point. Jazz couldn't be doing this just to be done with it, but what she didn't know was, why. Stephanie had just started eating again, when a second thought struck her. Prowl lived there too, he'd even told her as much!
"Prowl... are you mad at Jazz?" Stephanie asked hesitantly.
Prowl looked at the girl curiously. "No. Why would I be angry at him?"
"Because he had to be the one who moved me into your home... so I thought you might be mad at him for that. I can live somewhere else if I need to." Stephanie said in a rush.
"That will not be necessary. I have been spark mated to Jazz for several million of your years, and in that time, I have learned that when Jazz does something like this, he invariably has a valid explanation for his actions. Now, let me ask you something. If you were to leave now, where exactly would you go to live?" Prowl replied.
"I... I'd go back to the sewers. I have a safe place to sleep there, and no one can find me either." She answered.
"Your answer merely provides an additional reason for you to live with Jazz and I. The sewers are not a suitable environment, nor would proper supervision be possible. That does not take into account any measure of safety, security, or proper nutrition, which is necessary for one as young as you are. Therefore, it is immediately obvious to me that Jazz provided living quarters for you in a place where he could ensure those things. Additionally, whether you are aware of it or not, your injury makes it obvious that you are the victim of a Cybertronian crime in which the culprit has yet to be determined, which is merely another reason that Jazz would seek to provide for your welfare." Prowl explained.
"So... you want me to stay too?" Stephanie asked referring to the last statement.
"Yes, I do. I will admit to having some personal motives for this in addition to those I've already stated, but as I said, they are personal, and I do not wish to reveal them at this time." Prowl told her candidly.
Stephanie thought about what Prowl had just told her and frowned in confusion. "How does my injury make it obvious that I'm a victim of a Cyber… tronian crime?" She asked hesitating slightly over the name of the robotic race.
"There is a minute but clear and obvious energy signature that remains in the tissue of the scar that covers a large portion of your body. That energy signature is a result of weapons technology that cannot be duplicated by human technological levels at this time, and is not likely to be developed for several centuries without our influence. Therefore, the only possible cause of your injury is that of a Cybertronian weapon." Prowl answered.
"Do Jazz and Ratchet know about it?"
"I would have to say that the answer to that is yes, definitively. For one thing, Ratchet's scanners are far more sensitive than mine are, and he would have scanned you several times while treating your illness as part of your diagnosis and treatment. Jazz would also have discovered that signature the moment he scanned you. We tend to utilize our scanners in much the same way that a human like yourself would pick something up to examine it more closely. Our scanners are like an additional set of eyes that provide more detailed information about any given object. Jazz could have scanned you for any number of reasons, and would have scanned you at least once. That single scan would have shown him or any other Cybertronian the same energy signature that I discovered when I scanned you for the first time." Prowl elaborated.
"So... I might as well be wearing some kind of sign or something huh?" Stephanie asked morosely.
"Only insofar as a Cybertronian is concerned, Stephanie. Humans do not have the technological ability to detect that energy signature, and therefore will not know of it, unless they are told of its existence." Prowl informed her.
"Oh." Stephanie answered being unable to think of any other questions at that moment, she decided to finish eating.
Having finished her soup and the glass of milk, Stephanie was sipping her coffee and savoring it, which was something she hadn't often been able to do while living on the streets. Prowl had ordered a second container of energon, and was slowly consuming that while his company enjoyed her own beverage.
Stephanie turned her head towards the sounds of loud thumps as something neared the doorway to the rec room. Then she winced as the sound of shrieking metal was clearly heard.
"Steph! There ya are! I been lookin all over for ya!" Jazz called out as he nearly slid past the doorway in his rush to find the girl.
"Jazz! Hi. I've been right here; eating lunch, and now I'm just drinking some coffee." Stephanie replied a little confused, but happy nonetheless.
"When ya weren't in bed I thought ya might have wandered off and maybe gotten lost or somethin. Ratchet's even been lookin for ya. How'd ya get here?" Jazz asked immediately not paying any attention to anything else.
"Well, I don't know how to get back where I was, but I'm right here with Prowl." Stephanie answered.
That was when the saboteur noticed the presence of the black and white tactician and froze. "Oh... Hey ya Prowler babe! How ya doin? Uh... I'd introduce ya to my new friend here, but I uh… guess you two already met." Jazz asked in surprise.
Prowl's doorwings rose and he almost smiled at this particular image. He knew that he would laugh heartily over it later, but for now, he merely took in the fact that the normally imperturbable saboteur was now not only nearly speechless, but also struggling to think of an explanation quickly.
"Yes. Stephanie and I have enjoyed refueling together, as well as a rather pleasant conversation." Prowl stated simply.
"So, uh... Where'd you find her anyway?" Jazz asked not entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer.
"I 'found' her as you put it, exactly where you left her; sleeping soundly in her bed. My entrance caused her to awaken. She queried as to whether I was you or Ratchet. I then introduced myself, and queried her as to why she had been unable to determine the rather obvious differences between our three frames. That was when she informed me of her unusual injury. It was at that point that we began our conversation. Although it has not been for lack of effort on her part, she has been unable to explain her presence in our quarters. I am quite certain that you should be able to adequately elaborate on that for me." Prowl explained while not hesitating to take advantage of the situation to gain the upper hand.
Jazz felt the energon in his lines run cold. He couldn't tell from Prowl's vocal patterns if the mech was objecting to the girl's presence or not, and he'd fully intended to explain everything prior to the end of Prowl's shift. Now he realized that he was too late on that score, because Prowl had already found the girl in their quarters.
"Look, Prowler. I was gonna tell ya about this, but it just sorta happened okay? I planned on tellin ya today in fact, but things just kinda went a little glitchy." Jazz said quickly.
"You should have approached me about this prior to moving her in." Prowl stated readily.
Stephanie heard the whole conversation, and if Prowl hadn't told her that he wanted her to stay with them, and that he wasn't angry at Jazz, she would have sworn that a fight was about to start.
"Yeah, you're right Prowl. I just... I don't know... but I couldn't just leave her in the med bay." Jazz replied.
"In that you are correct. The med bay is not a suitable environment for her. In the meantime however, I will require a copy of your memories from the battle in Mission City." Prowl responded.
"Huh? Why do ya need those?" Jazz demanded in surprise.
"I need to determine exactly which bot was responsible for causing the injuries that Stephanie has been forced to endure. Your data files will compose a part of my investigation into the matter." Prowl stated.
Once again, Jazz froze in shock. He looked down at the table where the subject of the conversation was obviously listening to every word while sipping at her coffee. It was then that Jazz realized that she somehow knew that his race had been responsible for crippling her and killing her family. It was not a welcome realization.
"Steph... I... I'm... I'm sorry... I didn't know how ta tell ya about this, but..." Jazz began not knowing what to say, or even how to say it.
"You have nothing to apologize for Jazz. I have already explained the situation to her." Prowl stated clearly.
"Ya don't know what happened!" Jazz began angrily.
"Yes he does. He knows... He told me what happened, how some Megatron person was going to try to kill everyone, and how you got killed trying to stop him. He even knows how my family got killed, and I got hurt. He even said he's gonna try to find out who did it too." Stephanie interrupted quickly.
"Steph... Maybe ya don't blame me for your family gettin killed, but how do ya know ya shouldn't? If we hadn't brought the war here..."
"Then it is very likely that a far more disastrous result would have occurred, and there would have been even more innocent victims. Megatron was already here, as was the Allspark. Regardless of what precautions were being taken, you know as well as I that Megatron would have recovered eventually. If that had happened without an opposing Autobot presence, the entire human population of this planet would likely have been eliminated or enslaved, and Megatron would have created an assault force that would have then destroyed the Autobots as well. While it is for the best that the battle took place when it did, it would have been preferable had it not involved innocent lives. The past can not be changed, nor can Stephanie's family be returned to her..." Prowl said firmly.
"Are ya honestly tryin ta tell me that she don't have a slaggin good reason ta blame us for what's happened to her?" Jazz demanded angrily as he cut the tactician off before anything more could be said.
"No, Jazz, I am not. The fact is that Stephanie does have sufficient cause to blame us for her injuries, and the deaths of her family, because we are responsible!" Prowl stated in a clear and firm tone.
"All of Cybertron is to blame for the damage to this world and the humans who inhabit it. Had we governed ourselves more judiciously, with more attention to equality, fairness, and justice; then this war might never have occurred. I will grant you that the actions of The Fallen would still have taken place, and that the Harvester would still have been located on this world, but its people, the humans, would not have been placed in further jeopardy. There are many things that could have been prevented if our world had been governed by the very same principles that we fight for, the same principles I might add, that you died for! The very greed, corruption, and lust for personal power that Megatron was guilty of, is exactly what has led to the destruction of our world, and quite possibly the extinction of our race. All we can do now, is to try to live by the principles that we believe in, and attempt to rectify the damage that we, as a race have already caused, while preventing any similar damage from happening in the future. I am aware that there are those who now wonder what the point of this war is, now that our world is no longer inhabitable. My response is that we must continue our struggle to ensure that there will be no more innocent victims like Stephanie." Prowl stated as he continued and told Jazz in no uncertain terms.
Stephanie had been listening to every word, and she was finding it really difficult to believe what she was hearing. Blame Jazz? How could she blame Jazz when Prowl had even said that he didn't have a strong enough weapon to do it? She knew that she'd gotten sick right after meeting Jazz, and that Ratchet had said that Jazz had even saved her life by bringing her here, so why should she blame Jazz?
"Why should I blame Jazz when he tried to help?" Stephanie protested plaintively.
"Steph, I didn't..."
"Yes, Jazz, you did. So did many others who were there. You were only one of many, and you were not the only soldier who died that day. There were many human soldiers who also died as a result of the Decepticon assault for the All Spark. You can not be held any more responsible for those deaths than Stephanie can. The fact that you tried to stop what was happening can not be disputed Jazz. Because you were killed for your effort! Stephanie realizes that. I've also informed her that the weapon that caused her injuries was far more powerful than the one you have." Prowl stated in a stern tone.
"You can't know that, Prowl!" Jazz retorted hotly.
"Look Prowler, it don't even matter if Megatron was tha one that did it. Steph lost her family cause of us! Because of our war! That ain't something we can make right, because there ain't nothing that can give them back to her! She's a sparklin, and she didn't deserve ta be a part o that!" Jazz protested again.
"Your rather passionate argument is actually logical, Jazz. And you are correct. Stephanie did not deserve to be caught up in the repercussions of Cybertron's war, and in that light; all of us are responsible for her loss and her injuries..." Prowl began.
"That's not fair!" Stephanie interrupted strongly. "That's like... That's like blaming me because some kid in Mexico doesn't have any shoes or something... I don't know, but it's not fair! If he didn't do it, then Jazz shouldn't get blamed for it!"
"I believe that you misunderstand, Stephanie. I am not 'blaming' Jazz. In reality, I am not certain where the final blame should rest. But the fact remains, that your world, and therefore you, were involved, and affected when you shouldn't have been. We can not alter the past, so we must try to improve the future. Providing you with a location to live that you are willing to consider to be safe and to stay in, is a respectable beginning." Prowl replied easily.
"So... what? Are ya sayin that Steph can stay in our quarters with us?" Jazz asked in complete confusion.
"That is exactly what I am saying. Stephanie does not currently have an adult to supervise her activities, or provide a properly structured environment. It is obvious that the two of you have established a form of either trust or friendship; therefore, you are currently the most suitable mech available. After all, it is essential for a sparkling's development that there be no animosity or hostility between the sparkling, and the potential caretaker. Had such existed, then you would obviously not have chosen to locate her in our quarters, but instead, would have left her in the med bay under Ratchet's care." Prowl reasoned easily.
"Um... I woulda thought ya wouldn't be too happy about it..." Jazz mumbled in confusion.
"Not only do I have no objections to her presence, I must also add some insistence that she remain with us. Not only do I need to find out which bot is responsible for her current situation, but I also feel that Stephanie requires an environment where she can be properly supervised, and supplied with the correct levels of nutrition that she will need at her age. There is also the fact that she will most likely require further care from Ratchet. In addition, I have also found her to be quite pleasant to hold a conversation with. Besides, you seem to have taken a liking to her as well. I believe that those five reasons should be sufficient to convince you that I am not merely accepting an intolerable situation, and that I actually think that her presence would be beneficial to all of three of us. Therefore, I see no reason to object to Stephanie's presence. With the sole exception of the waste removal facility that was installed for her, the necessary living quarters that have been established make excellent use of an area that we do not tend to utilize. I believe that it was an excellent idea to place her bed and dresser beneath our berth. Stephanie is young, but polite nonetheless, and in spite of having only recently learned of our existence, she appears to have adjusted to that fact very well. She is also in need of proper supervision, which the two of us working together, should be able to adequately provide." Prowl replied calmly.
"However, it would be appreciated if you could at least consult with me on such important decisions in the future." Prowl added with a quirked brow ridge.
Stephanie didn't say anything, because she felt that this was something between Jazz and Prowl.
"Ya might be right on that Prowler, but there was no way that I could leave her in the medbay." Jazz explained.
"In that, you are correct. For now, however, I think you should join us, since Stephanie has not finished her coffee, and I could use a second serving of energon, it would provide us both with those opportunities and allow you to refuel while providing us with your company." Prowl suggested easily.
"Sounds good ta me! What do ya say Steph? Ya mind if I join ya?" Jazz replied.
"That's gotta be a joke, Jazz. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't even be here, so have a seat. There is a chair you can sit in… isn't there?" Stephanie finished skeptically.
"Yep! Sure is." Jazz answered as he sat down next to Prowl and faced his new roommate.
"Is this a private party, or is there room for a couple more to join in?" Asked a voice somewhere off to Stephanie's right.
Stephanie quickly recognized the voice of Mrs. Lennox, and given how high the voice originated from, Stephanie was sure that she was sitting on Ratchet's shoulder. "You'll have to ask Prowl and Jazz about that one, because it's their party. I'm just a tag along."
Prowl's door wings instantly rose from indignation. "That is not an acceptable answer, Stephanie! I will admit that I did require a small amount of fuel, but I could easily have obtained it in my quarters, and because Jazz was searching for you, it becomes immediately obvious that you are the reason that we are here."
"Wow. That joke was killed so fast that it didn't even get a chance to crash and burn." Stephanie said ruefully.
Jazz started snickering at that comment as Sarah began to laugh, and there was a single snort of laughter from Ratchet, as the medic made his presence known.
"That's one thing Prowler's really good at Steph! He can kill a joke faster than you can tell it." Jazz snickered.
"Yeah, I guess I need to think up a better one next time." Stephanie muttered.
"Good luck on that one Stephanie. To my knowledge, no one has ever heard Prowl laugh at a joke. Jazz might have heard it, but he has repeatedly refused to say one way or the other." Ratchet told her quickly.
"If the two of you would like to join us, I have no objections." Prowl said clearly as he indicated empty seats at both tables.
"Yeah, come on an have a seat! The bigger the party, the better it gets!" Jazz quipped cheerfully.
"I will ask you again Stephanie; do you have any objections to their joining us?" Prowl asked in a serious tone.
"Why would I say no? I like Mrs. Lennox, and I kind of like Ratchet too, at least when he isn't yelling at me for no reason." Stephanie answered honestly.
"Well, I promise that he won't yell at you unless you deserve it. Is that fair enough?" Sarah said reasonably.
Ratchet turned his head to give the woman on his shoulder a confused look, while Stephanie simply nodded her head in acceptance of the proposal. The medic moved over to the table, and placed Sarah down on it, so she could sit at the human sized version that was on top of it, before taking his own seat.
"So, you've had lunch I see. What'd you have?" Sarah asked casually as she sat down next to Stephanie on the girl's left.
"Well, Prowl figured out a easy way to tell me the menu, and I picked out a chicken noodle soup with lots of crackers, a glass of milk, and a cup of coffee." Stephanie answered brightly.
"And just how many cups of that coffee have you had?" Ratchet demanded instantly.
"This is my first cup since breakfast, and I've barely touched it!" Stephanie said defensively.
Ratchet shot a glance at Prowl, who said nothing, but was observing the discussion closely. "I told you that you were allowed no more than two cups of coffee. That was at breakfast. You may have two then, and two at lunch. However, if you do have a total of four cups of coffee between those two meals, you may not have any caffeinated soft drinks! Is that clear? You do not need that much caffeine at your age!" He said firmly.
To Ratchet's complete surprise, Stephanie grinned widely. He had been expecting some type of vehement argument from the girl.
"I haven't had a soda in a long time, so I don't care about missing those. As long as I can have coffee at breakfast and lunch, I'm happy. I wouldn't say no to a hot chocolate every now and then though." Stephanie replied.
"Make sure that you drink it at least an hour before bed, and I'll have no objections on that, but again… no more than two cups!" Ratchet intoned.
"Now, how did I know that was coming?" Stephanie asked with a shake of her head.
Sarah burst out laughing. "Ratchet's only trying to look out for you Stephanie. He has a strange way of showing it sometimes, but he really does care. Speaking of caring… what do you think of Jazz and Prowl?" She finished a little seriously.
"I like both of them, and Prowl is really nice. He… he even told me how my family got killed, and that… that he'd try to find out who did it." Stephanie replied sadly.
"Is that even possible? Prowl, how would you be able to find that out after all this time?" Sarah asked in disbelief as she looked up at the mech.
"There is a distinct possibility that I may not be able to discover the identity of the culprit, but the possibility exists that one of the Autobots involved in that battle may have seen who fired the shot that killed Stephanie's family and caused her injuries. Even if the identity of the guilty party remains unknown, Stephanie will at least know the cause of her losses." Prowl responded. "Whether I am successful or not will remain to be seen, but Stephanie will be provided with partial restitution in the form of supervision from both myself and Jazz, as we assume the role of her caretakers. I must also ask if you would be willing to assist as needed, since as a mother yourself, you would obviously know more about what Stephanie requires than either Jazz or I."
"What? Of course I'd be willing to help! I'd have to be a pretty worthless parent not to!" Sarah replied indignantly.
"Thank you. I am certain that your expertise will be appreciated, and needed at some point in time." Prowl answered.
Stephanie was letting the adults have their conversation while she simply listened. She wasn't sure what the future had in store for her, but she had already seen that staying here was going to be a lot better than that foster home had been, and certainly better than living in the sewers had been. She reached out, picked up her coffee, and took a sip, only to make a sour face when she realized that it had gotten cold.
"I thought you liked coffee! If so, then why are you making that face?" Ratchet asked suddenly.
"I do like coffee… but it's not very good after it gets cold." Stephanie replied sourly.
"Then I think it's time to get a fresh cup, don't you?" Sarah chimed in.
"I'd love a fresh cup. Can I have another bowl of chicken soup with more crackers too?" Stephanie asked eagerly.
"Yes, but no second servings at dinner. Your metabolic rate has dropped a lot because of your lifestyle, and you'll need to exercise in order to get it back up to normal. Otherwise, you'll become overweight." Ratchet instructed.
Stephanie frowned at that comment, before she leaned over closer to Sarah. "Is he going to lecture me about everything?" She asked in a whisper.
"There might be some things that I won't lecture you about, but I can't think of anything like that at the moment." Ratchet told the girl with a smug smirk.
"Something tells me that I'm not going to like you very much." Stephanie muttered sourly.
"Hah! There aren't very many who do like me anyway, so adding your name to the list of those who don't, won't make much of a difference!" Ratchet replied smugly.
"Wow! At least I have a good reason for not having any friends." Stephanie said mostly to herself.
"Oh… I do have some friends, and they happen to like me just the way I am, so if you don't, then that won't bother me in the least. I will still make sure that you pay proper attention to your health!" Ratchet told her with a grin.
Stephanie's face twisted into an angry frown as she let out a disgusted huff of anger.
"Ratchet… that's enough!" Sarah snapped. "He's just teasing you Stephanie. They can hear a lot better than we can so even if you whisper something to me while you're in the same room with one of them; they still hear it." Sarah told Stephanie while frowning at Ratchet.
"Well he doesn't have to be so grumpy about telling me what to do. I mean, I can't be too stupid if I was able to live in the sewers on my own for this long." Stephanie replied readily.
"You're right Stephanie, and no one here thinks you're stupid. Living homeless on your own at your age would have scared me senseless. I wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do even now." Sarah said honestly.
"Well, it's not easy, and it's not fun either; especially when you have to hide from everyone." Stephanie said truthfully.
"Weren't you ever scared? God knows I would have been." Sarah exclaimed.
Stephanie nodded quickly. "All the time. I always had to worry about someone finding me. Because if they did, then they could turn me in for a reward, or sell me to a drug dealer so I'd be used for sex by total strangers, and I'd never be able to say who they were, or what they look like, or they might just decide to rape me."
Sarah's mouth dropped open to say something, but Stephanie continued before she could say anything.
"I learned that I needed to hide from everyone if I wanted to stay safe. Sometimes I have nightmares about being found by people; that and waking up in the hospital the day that man told me that my family was dead. The only person I never had to hide from was Vern. He's a coffee vendor, but he also sells donuts and Danish rolls and stuff." Stephanie finished in a sad monotone.
Sarah gaped at the girl in mute horror. The thought of losing her loved ones in such a way was one thing, and never knowing the cause or reason for that loss was horrible.
"When… when did you start having nightmares?" Sarah asked in confusion.
"Not too long after Old Miss Connors told me to stop coming around her, because she started thinking that I was a spy for the government. So, I guess it was maybe a month or so after I started living on the streets. Old Miss Connors wasn't really crazy at first, just a little weird, because she always called herself 'Old Miss Connors'. She never said 'I' or 'me', just Old Miss Connors. She did teach me a lot though. How to find some of the food that restaurants and grocery stores throw away, and that it always stays warm in the sewers, so that was where she'd take me when it got really cold at night. None of the other homeless people liked going down into the sewers because of the smell, and because there aren't any lights down there. Since I can't see, and there wasn't any way for them to see; it just made the sewers a really good place for me to hide from everyone. That's why I started living down there. No one could really ever find me, and I could stay warm in the winter." Stephanie explained in easily once she began talking about something she was familiar with.
Sarah frowned in confusion at just how anyone could actually live in a nasty, smelly sewer. "Do… did you… have like a bed or something to sleep on… how does that work?"
Stephanie shook her head with a snicker. "Nope. No bed, but I do have several sleeping places down there so I don't have too far to go, no matter where I am. The only time anyone ever found me down there was when a couple of men who were working on something got lost. I tried to run from them, but they caught up with me real easy."
"What happened then? Didn't they try to make you leave the sewers?" Sarah interrupted.
"They wanted to, but I told them that I would never show them how to get out if they tried. That was right before they really wanted to know the way out because one of their lights went dead, so they knew they had to leave soon or they wouldn't be able to see. I told them how to get out, and took off in the other direction. I was lucky because they didn't have time to catch me and make me go back to that group foster home. I stayed away from that area for a while, but I did hear other workers trying to find me down there. They all gave up after a few weeks… At least, I think it was a few weeks, it could have been longer than that though." Stephanie said with a laugh.
"That ain't funny Steph! Ya don't need ta live down there! That ain't a decent place for ya, so how can ya laugh about something like that?" Jazz demanded angrily.
"Because that's the funniest thing I had happen to me since I left that stupid foster home. Besides, I'm not down there now am I?" Stephanie answered with a frown.
"No… I guess ya ain't!" Jazz admitted reluctantly. "But ya never should a lived down there in the first place!"
"Well, if I hadn't still been living there, then I never would have been in that alley and I wouldn't have got to meet you." Stephanie reasoned.
"I do not believe that is the point that Jazz is trying to make, Stephanie. I will grant you that having met Jazz, as well as the rest of us, is a vast improvement in your life. However, it should also be obvious that proper care should have been provided to you from the onset of your disability, and that you should never have been forced into such an extreme and undesirable method of survival simply to ensure your safety." Prowl clarified.
"Jazz and Prowl are right! The sewers are no place for anyone to live; especially not you!" Ratchet snapped irritably.
"Maybe not, but I didn't have any other choices either, now did I?" Stephanie retorted just as irritably.
"Look… everyone just needs to calm down. Stephanie's not in the sewers anymore and all we can do for now is be very glad that we've gotten her out of there!" Sarah told the three mechs, before she turned to the girl sitting beside her. "Stephanie, don't take what they're trying to say the wrong way. Right now, they're just mad because you lived there at all. They don't like it, and to be honest, I don't like it much either. I know you didn't see any other options, but that doesn't mean that other possibilities didn't exist; it just means that you did the only thing you knew to do. As frightening as that kind of living was, you still did it… and I really have to wonder about the people who were running the foster home. You wouldn't happen to remember their names would you?"
Stephanie shook her head. She had long ago forgotten the names of the man and wife who had run the foster home, because she had no longer cared what their names were. She had gotten away from them and the other kids who were there, and that had been a huge relief for her. As frightening as living on her own had been, it wasn't half as terrifying as being forced to listen to plans for pranks that would have gotten her seriously hurt or even killed.
Stephanie took a deep breath to try to relax a bit, before she remembered that she had a cup of coffee in front of her. She knew that it had already gotten cold, but she reached for it anyway.
"Don't drink that! Our food will be here shortly. Ratchet already sent the order for it, so just hang in there a moment." Sarah exclaimed with a shudder at the thought of drinking cold coffee.
Stephanie heard the tone of disgust in the woman's voice, so she set the cup back on the table, and waited for a fresh cup of coffee. It wasn't until she remembered that she'd also be getting another bowl of soup with her coffee that she grinned in delight. Then she got a mischievous idea.
"Okay, but if it's not here soon then I'm drinking this cup anyway." Stephanie replied as seriously as she could.
"Oh no you won't!" Ratchet said as he reached over and took the cup away. "If you insist on drinking coffee like you do, then you will either drink it hot or iced, but you will not be drinking that stuff at room temperature! I will not have you causing others to lose their appetite." The medic groused.
Stephanie shot a frustrated glare in the general direction of the medic and defiantly reached up to grab the mentioned cup only to find it gone.
"That's mean Ratchet!" Stephanie exclaimed irritably.
"Maybe it was, but in spite of what you might be familiar with, there are going to be some rules here, and you will follow them!" Ratchet said sternly with a smirk on his faceplates.
"Rules? Rules? I know all about rules, Ratchet! Rule number one; never let anyone find me because they'll send me back to that foster home! Rule number two; never let anyone find me because they'll turn me in for some kind of reward! Rules number three; never let anyone find me because they'll rape me! Rule number four; never let anyone find me because they'll sell me as a sex slave to a drug dealer! Rule number five; never let anyone find me because they'll either steal or break what little I've got! Rule number six; never go out in the daytime because then people can find me! Rule number seven; never trust anyone because they are going to want something from me, and I don't have anything I'm willing to give! Rule number eight; adults are always going to want something from me, so stay away from them! Rule number nine; always check the coin slots on phones and vending machines! Rule number ten; a lot of the food that grocery stores throw away is still good enough to eat, if I can get there before everything is gone!" Stephanie hissed angrily as she glared in the direction of the medic.
"Hey want to take a guess at figuring out how many rules I'm breaking right now?" Stephanie asked without shifting her sightless glare.
"Five… out of a total of ten, which is half of the rules you've named." Prowl replied quietly in a very somber tone as his doorwings twitched rather violently.
"Those rules don't apply anymore!" Ratchet countered with a growl.
"Ratchet, you have not presented any type of valid argument to counter the rules by which Stephanie has obviously lived by and needed to adhere to in order to survive her previous environment, therefore, I would suggest that you refrain from worsening this situation by remaining silent." Prowl interjected quickly.
"Stephanie… I find myself in a very unusual position right now, and it is not one that I am comfortable or familiar with… but I would like to ask you to make an exception to those rules in this case. I am aware that we have no means of proving our good intentions, nor do we have any immediate means of earning your trust, but I am asking you to please set aside, and ignore those rules and allow us the opportunity to prove such things to your satisfaction." Prowl asked seriously.