Home, ProwlxBluestreak
OH GOD SO MUCH ANGST.
This was heavily inspired by the lovely kinrazza and her "Letters Home" fic. Also inspired by the song "Final Salute" by Rachel Portman, from the Hart's War OST. You can download it here. I highly suggest listening to it.
Title: Home
Pairing: BluestreakxProwl
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After Prowl's death, Bluestreak takes the time to reconsider his place in the Autobot army.
What the hell were you thinking, Prowl?
Excuse my language-I know you don't like it when I curse. You always used to tell me that war had turned me into someone I wasn't, and that you wished you'd never gotten me into the Autobots in the first place. I don't… I don't really know either way. I would never have felt right if I hadn't done something to help Prime. You. You, really. I wanted to help you.
How am I supposed to help you now, huh? How dare you, Prowl. How could you leave me?! … I can't do this without you, Prowl. I hate war. I hate fighting! Why do you think I use a gun, huh?? I can't feel them die in my hands the way Sunny always talks about. Every shot's for you, Prowl. Every single one, and now you're gone. I-I can't. I just can't anymore, not with you gone.
The army's leaving tomorrow. Prime's moving everyone to Earth. Earth's nice, I suppose, but you're here. Mirage pulled some strings and got you buried in a really beautiful place. Mostly only nobles are buried there, but Raj is a pretty important person and I guess people listen to him when he wants something.
Still, that means we have to leave your body. I don't want to. I wish we could take you with us, but Jazz says it's like disturbing your rest and I know you don't like to be woken up (even if we forced you into recharge).
So I'm here at your grave. You're nothing more than pretty marble with your name carved in it now. I know your frame is behind it, but there are so many names, Prowl. So many on this huge marble wall, and it seems like they don't even care anymore, any of them. I mean, I know Jazz does. Jazzy loved you too, did you know that? He loved you a lot. He told me, after the report came in. He said that sacrificing yourself is something you’d do. I guess I agree. I still wish you hadn't, and I don't really care if it's selfish.
… Okay, I do. Primus, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I'm just upset. I've got my hand up against the wall, petting the marble, tracing the glyphs of your name. There's a little mark on the bottom right corner of the panel that conceals your frame-I think Jazz's been here too. Mirage maybe. Mirage is grateful. It's probably why he got you buried with the other nobles.
What'm I s'posed to do, Prowler? I don't even know anymore. Part of me wants to run off tonight and just lose myself on Cybertron. Lose myself where no one will ever find me again. It's so strange; I used to talk all the time but now I only talk to Jazz. Prime, sometimes.
I miss you, hun. I love you. Jazz says I'm lucky we didn't bond, but I wish we had. I wish I'd let you merge with me when you wanted to. I wish so many things, Prowl. I think Mirage feels guilty when he sees me. Hound keeps coming to talk to me. Mirage must be too shy (or too proud) to do it himself. I tell them I'm okay, but I know everyone can see I'm not.
Jazz is calling. He treats me like a sparkling sometimes, but can I blame him? He's already lost you. He's afraid to lose me; I can see it in his optics. I don't want to go, Prowl. I don't want to leave you.
I'll visit tomorrow morning, before the ship leaves.
-----
… I'm not going. I can't. I told Jazz, but I don't think he believes me. I can't leave Cybertron, not with you here. I'll… I'll go back to Praxus, maybe. I hear there's a colony living there. Maybe they'll let me live with them, do you think? You're probably disappointed in me. If you were here you'd tell me that I have to move on and find my path.
But the thing is, Prowl, you're not here. And I think this is my path. I'm done with the war. I'm done with being on the front lines. I can't watch anyone else die. I'll cut contact. Change my comm. frequency. My name, maybe. My colors. I don't want anyone to know me anymore.
The sun's rising, honey. I have to go before Jazz or the twins realize I'm gone. I'm sorry if I've upset you. Really, I am. I love you so much, Prowl. Being on the lines with you was… not good, because saying that seems… mean or something. Not good, but… All the same, Prowl, I could protect you on the front lines. And now you're gone.
I know I should protect everyone else, but I can't bring myself to do it. To lose someone else.
So they'll lose me first.
It's so mean. So selfish. I'm sorry, all of you. I've written this all down, just in case, on this little datapad that I'll leave here with you. I know I really shouldn't have. They'll all be worried. But I think I can hide myself well enough.
Jazz, please don't come looking for me. I can manage on my own. Tell Prime I'm sorry. I can't do any more on the front lines. I'll help the refugees. I'll go home.
I hope that's where you are, Prowl. Home, wherever it is. For now, I know I have to stay here. Eventually I'll find you.
I promise.
-----
"Jazz?"
The saboteur clutched the tiny datapad in his hand and turned to glance over his shoulder. It was Sideswipe. "Yeah, Sides?"
"He's gone, huh." It wasn't a question. The twin stepped forward, optics glancing pointedly down at the pad, but he didn't ask to see it.
Jazz nodded, lips pursing as he glanced out the opening to the mausoleum. Sunlight streamed inside, shattering against the pure white marble of the ground and casting rays and shadows alike on the walls, the names carved there. "Yeah. He's gone."
"You gonna go find him?" Crossing his arms, the twin leant back against the wall, inclining his head to glance up at Prowl's name. He missed the tactician, whether or not he'd admit it.
"To be honest, Swipe," the Autobots' 2IC murmured, "I don't think he can be found."
Sideswipe watched Jazz for a moment, expression quizzical, but understanding found its way onto his face a few moments later. "Think he's okay?"
Jazz glanceddown at the datapad in his hand and, with a small flexing of wrist cables, crushed it, letting the pieces scatter to the floor before Prowl's burial place. "… Mmhm. He's okay."
Sideswipe's optics drifted down to the floor. And then, despite his earlier question: "Where'd he go, did he say?"
Tipping his chin up, Jazz let out a quiet sigh and stepped around Sideswipe to make his way back to the Ark. Something close to closure flickered to life in his spark. He looked toward Praxus as he stepped from the tomb.
"He went home."
This was heavily inspired by the lovely kinrazza and her "Letters Home" fic. Also inspired by the song "Final Salute" by Rachel Portman, from the Hart's War OST. You can download it here. I highly suggest listening to it.
Title: Home
Pairing: BluestreakxProwl
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After Prowl's death, Bluestreak takes the time to reconsider his place in the Autobot army.
What the hell were you thinking, Prowl?
Excuse my language-I know you don't like it when I curse. You always used to tell me that war had turned me into someone I wasn't, and that you wished you'd never gotten me into the Autobots in the first place. I don't… I don't really know either way. I would never have felt right if I hadn't done something to help Prime. You. You, really. I wanted to help you.
How am I supposed to help you now, huh? How dare you, Prowl. How could you leave me?! … I can't do this without you, Prowl. I hate war. I hate fighting! Why do you think I use a gun, huh?? I can't feel them die in my hands the way Sunny always talks about. Every shot's for you, Prowl. Every single one, and now you're gone. I-I can't. I just can't anymore, not with you gone.
The army's leaving tomorrow. Prime's moving everyone to Earth. Earth's nice, I suppose, but you're here. Mirage pulled some strings and got you buried in a really beautiful place. Mostly only nobles are buried there, but Raj is a pretty important person and I guess people listen to him when he wants something.
Still, that means we have to leave your body. I don't want to. I wish we could take you with us, but Jazz says it's like disturbing your rest and I know you don't like to be woken up (even if we forced you into recharge).
So I'm here at your grave. You're nothing more than pretty marble with your name carved in it now. I know your frame is behind it, but there are so many names, Prowl. So many on this huge marble wall, and it seems like they don't even care anymore, any of them. I mean, I know Jazz does. Jazzy loved you too, did you know that? He loved you a lot. He told me, after the report came in. He said that sacrificing yourself is something you’d do. I guess I agree. I still wish you hadn't, and I don't really care if it's selfish.
… Okay, I do. Primus, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I'm just upset. I've got my hand up against the wall, petting the marble, tracing the glyphs of your name. There's a little mark on the bottom right corner of the panel that conceals your frame-I think Jazz's been here too. Mirage maybe. Mirage is grateful. It's probably why he got you buried with the other nobles.
What'm I s'posed to do, Prowler? I don't even know anymore. Part of me wants to run off tonight and just lose myself on Cybertron. Lose myself where no one will ever find me again. It's so strange; I used to talk all the time but now I only talk to Jazz. Prime, sometimes.
I miss you, hun. I love you. Jazz says I'm lucky we didn't bond, but I wish we had. I wish I'd let you merge with me when you wanted to. I wish so many things, Prowl. I think Mirage feels guilty when he sees me. Hound keeps coming to talk to me. Mirage must be too shy (or too proud) to do it himself. I tell them I'm okay, but I know everyone can see I'm not.
Jazz is calling. He treats me like a sparkling sometimes, but can I blame him? He's already lost you. He's afraid to lose me; I can see it in his optics. I don't want to go, Prowl. I don't want to leave you.
I'll visit tomorrow morning, before the ship leaves.
-----
… I'm not going. I can't. I told Jazz, but I don't think he believes me. I can't leave Cybertron, not with you here. I'll… I'll go back to Praxus, maybe. I hear there's a colony living there. Maybe they'll let me live with them, do you think? You're probably disappointed in me. If you were here you'd tell me that I have to move on and find my path.
But the thing is, Prowl, you're not here. And I think this is my path. I'm done with the war. I'm done with being on the front lines. I can't watch anyone else die. I'll cut contact. Change my comm. frequency. My name, maybe. My colors. I don't want anyone to know me anymore.
The sun's rising, honey. I have to go before Jazz or the twins realize I'm gone. I'm sorry if I've upset you. Really, I am. I love you so much, Prowl. Being on the lines with you was… not good, because saying that seems… mean or something. Not good, but… All the same, Prowl, I could protect you on the front lines. And now you're gone.
I know I should protect everyone else, but I can't bring myself to do it. To lose someone else.
So they'll lose me first.
It's so mean. So selfish. I'm sorry, all of you. I've written this all down, just in case, on this little datapad that I'll leave here with you. I know I really shouldn't have. They'll all be worried. But I think I can hide myself well enough.
Jazz, please don't come looking for me. I can manage on my own. Tell Prime I'm sorry. I can't do any more on the front lines. I'll help the refugees. I'll go home.
I hope that's where you are, Prowl. Home, wherever it is. For now, I know I have to stay here. Eventually I'll find you.
I promise.
-----
"Jazz?"
The saboteur clutched the tiny datapad in his hand and turned to glance over his shoulder. It was Sideswipe. "Yeah, Sides?"
"He's gone, huh." It wasn't a question. The twin stepped forward, optics glancing pointedly down at the pad, but he didn't ask to see it.
Jazz nodded, lips pursing as he glanced out the opening to the mausoleum. Sunlight streamed inside, shattering against the pure white marble of the ground and casting rays and shadows alike on the walls, the names carved there. "Yeah. He's gone."
"You gonna go find him?" Crossing his arms, the twin leant back against the wall, inclining his head to glance up at Prowl's name. He missed the tactician, whether or not he'd admit it.
"To be honest, Swipe," the Autobots' 2IC murmured, "I don't think he can be found."
Sideswipe watched Jazz for a moment, expression quizzical, but understanding found its way onto his face a few moments later. "Think he's okay?"
Jazz glanceddown at the datapad in his hand and, with a small flexing of wrist cables, crushed it, letting the pieces scatter to the floor before Prowl's burial place. "… Mmhm. He's okay."
Sideswipe's optics drifted down to the floor. And then, despite his earlier question: "Where'd he go, did he say?"
Tipping his chin up, Jazz let out a quiet sigh and stepped around Sideswipe to make his way back to the Ark. Something close to closure flickered to life in his spark. He looked toward Praxus as he stepped from the tomb.
"He went home."