To kickstart the week...
Title: Sparkless. (24/??)
Rating: R
Warnings: A bit of violence, angst, possible slashy goodness. Implied character death.
Characters: Trax, Volt, Prowl.
Setting: Movieverse AU.
Summary: In trying to live up to the name of his sire he gave his all, until he lost his own spark. Those who once loved him now called him "sparkless".
Notes: This is an AU bunny that belongs to snugsbunny, it's all her fault, I just happen to be the one writting it. Several concepts seen through the duration of this fic are hers and used with permission. This is a very AU fic so please take with a grain of salt.
Many thanks to mmouse15 for kindly beta reading this for me.
A lesser mech would have given into its grief, possibly slumping over a couch with as many vials of consumed high grade as possible scattered over the floor and furniture. But he was not a lesser mech, even if sometimes Prowl did feel he was less than most of mechs out there. No, he has responsibilities to see to, a city to rule and run and no matter how emotionally drained he felt, he could not afford to distract himself from his duties.
Almost four cycles had passed since he spoke with Jazz and his world came tumbling down once more. He berated himself continuously about his own stupidity, regretting over and over his own dropping of his defenses and allowing Jazz close, allowing the mech to hope something could exist between them. He had promised himself he wouldn’t care about anything or anyone anymore and blamed no one but himself for tripping over the same stone, allowing another mech close to him and thus close to his destructive presence. That wasn’t to say Prowl was not hurt himself. Jazz’s words claiming he had fallen in love with a sparkless mech had hurt so much, not only because he knew he had hurt Jazz but because he knew now there was no hope that Jazz would ever see him again. Their friendship was beyond repair now, he was certain.
Prowl chose to ignore a faint little voice in the back of his processors that insisted Prowl wanted more than just friendship from Jazz. He wasn’t going to deny it, that fierce kiss brought to the forefront that what he felt for Jazz was more than attraction. He cared for Jazz deeply and enjoyed the affection Jazz had shown him. He didn’t know if what he felt was love, he no longer had anything to compare with, as his previous experience turned out to be nothing like what he had imagined. But he knew he felt strongly for the smaller silver mech.
There was nothing that could come out of that, though, no matter how much Jazz insisted. Prowl knew he would only destroy Jazz and proceeded to demonstrate it, hurting the last mech he had wanted to harm. As much as it hurt him to think about it, Prowl hoped his Jazz would find someone else that would give him all the love he deserved and made him happy.
The silence of his office was broken by Volt’s voice. //My lord?//
//What is it, Volt?//
//You have a visitor, my lord. It’s Lord Trax.//
Prowl heaved a sigh. He suspected sooner or later Lord Trax would get word and come here, quite possibly to berate him for his wrongdoing to his grandson. He couldn’t blame the mech but Prowl wasn’t really in the mood to be lectured about it, he could berate himself efficiently enough. //Tell him I’m in the middle of an important conversation. I’ll receive him some other time.//
After a short pause Volt spoke again. //My lord, he says he can wait until you’re done with your business. He’s not leaving.//
Shaking his head and feeling his sour mood growing, Prowl instructed his servant to inform he’d see Trax in a joor. He used the time to mentally prepare himself for the recriminations he knew would come, while trying to finish what he was working on. After the joor passed, Prowl set his work aside. //Volt, you may allow Lord Trax in.//
The old blue mech led Lord Trax to the Lord of Praxus’ office, quietly leaving once the mech was allowed inside. Lord Trax bowed his head politely as Prowl gestured the seat across his desk where Trax had sat a few times in the past when this very same mech helped him to recover the last family he had left. “My lord.” Lord Trax greeted as he took a seat, watching the other mech intently - just by glance nobody would be able to tell the mech had been involved in a catastrophic incident with Jazz, as Lord Prowl seemed almost unaffected. It was only through knowing what to look for that Trax could see Prowl was far from unaffected and was definitely in a sour mood.
“Lord Trax.” Prowl nodded curtly. He wanted to ask how Jazz was faring, but did not dare to bring the smaller silver mech into the conversation, he didn’t need to give Lord Trax any prompting. “What may I do for you?”
Trax smiled a little, having expected the formal and business-like tone, making no mention of what had happened between himself and Jazz.
“It is more a case of what I may do for you, my lord.” Trax’s smile widened just a little in suitable smugness as his words earned him a confused expression on the other mech’s faceplates. “I am surprised you have not asked how Jazz is doing.”
Prowl frowned. “What are you trying to get at, Lord Trax?”
Trax raised a hand to appease the Lord of Praxus. “I’m not here to berate you if that’s what you think. Not the way you think, at least.”
“Then what are you here for?” Prowl didn’t bother hiding his annoyance and sour mood. “Shouldn’t you be with Jazz? Looking after him after what I did to him?”
“Jazz does not need me smothering him with my concern over something like this.” Trax leaned back on his seat, making himself comfortable. “He needs some time to himself and to sort himself out. Even though I know he won’t get over this easily or anytime soon.”
Prowl stood and turned around, giving his back to Trax as he glared angrily at the world through his window. “You might not have come to berate, but you’re clearly digging into the open wounds.”
“Am I?” Trax asked, watching the usually perfectly still and proud wing panels on the younger mechs’ back twitching and fluttering, a sure sign of his own distress. “Jazz told me what happened between the two of you. I admit I was not expecting that outcome.”
Prowl sneered. “What other outcome could you possibly expect? I am not suitable to pursue Jazz or any mech for that matter. Jazz’s current distress should be more than enough proof of that.”
“I expected the mech I’ve known to be calm, composed and rational; to make the best decision for himself and my grandson. Are you so blind you cannot see you and Jazz have something special that could be fulfilling for both of you?” Trax replied unfazed by the other mech’s burst of self loathing.
“Didn’t Jazz tell you everything about me?” Prowl glared at Trax over a wing panel, clearly calling upon all his might to stop the quivering of his own sensor panels. “Do you not know the sparkless freak my on people think me to be?”
“I am aware of everything. I know of your ill fated bonding and of your lost child, of the difficulties you went through. But you cannot live in the past forever, Lord Prowl.” Trax stood up, meeting the black and white mech’s glare with a stern look of his own. “And you must learn to accept that while you had certain faults in the decisions you took, you are a victim of many unfair circumstances in your life.”
Prowl laughed bitterly. “Victim? Me?”
“Yes, you.” Trax moved around the desk to come closer to the Lord of Praxus, sending any sense of propriety through the window. “You weren’t prepared for most of the things you had to face. None of that was your fault.”
Prowl looked away, refusing to meet the earnest optics of the noblemech. “I still took the life of someone that deserved better.”
“I beg to disagree.”
Prowl’s head snapped around to glare heatedly at Trax. “What?”
“I beg to disagree.” Trax repeated, unwavering. “You were but a child in an adult body. Your spark and your processors were not ready for that.”
Prowl protested, meeting the challenging optics with his own, convinced of his own faults. “I could have done something. Anything. I could have hired someone to tell me how to behave, what was proper and what was not.”
The older noblemech shook his head. “Perhaps you could have done so. It doesn’t mean you would have done what was advised to you. And you never know if your advisor would have had your best interest in mind instead of trying to manipulate your young spark and inexperience.” The mech took a step closer until he was face to face with the chevroned lord. “For all we know you could have ended up in a situation much worse.”
“It could have been better. At least it could have spared an innocent-“
Lord Trax’s voice interrupted the Lord of Praxus, anger coloring his voice. “Your bondmate was not an innocent mech, Lord Prowl. He went into your relationship fully knowing what he was getting himself into.”
“That’s not true.” Prowl snarled.
“Really now?” Trax took a few steps back and moved around the desk, crossing his arms behind his back as he paced around the room. “Do tell me, my lord, was your bondmate as young as you were? Was he a youngling in an adult body?”
“What are you trying to get at?”
“Just answer me.” Trax smirked sourly as he asked again. “Was he in a similar condition to your own?” At Prowl’s shake of his head Trax began to pace around again. “Wasn’t he already an adult mech when his family moved to Praxus?”
“Almost. His final upgrade was performed here a few deca-cycles after they settled in.”
“So, you acknowledge that your bondmate was most definitely an adult mech when you first met him?”
Prowl frowned. “What does that have to do with any of this?”
Trax smiled. “You’re a smart mech, my lord, can’t you figure it out? Your bondmate was an adult, fully aware of what you offered him and wanted in return. He knew you were still a youngling in an adult body --he mentioned it several times in his own diary if Jazz informed me right.” Trax began to pace around the office again. “It is true you rushed through your relationship, you were eager and naive, but your bondmate was not. He should have known that such relationship could not be maintained that way.”
Prowl did not speak, voices raised in his head once more, begging him to acknowledge the truth in Trax’s words.
“Spark maturity and body maturity are different things, my lord and you know it very well. Your bondmate chose not to acknowledge Prowl, the mech. He wanted Lord Prowl, the state figure.” Trax shook his head as he paced around, seemingly growing a tad more agitated as he spoke. “You did not know what you were doing, but he should have known. And if he had loved you for who you were and desired to have a good relationship with you, he would have known that for your relationship to work out time and care was essential. He did no such thing.”
“I pressured him,” Prowl spoke softly, remembering clearly the last realization that struck his bondmate in his deathberth: that he had bonded to his title and not to Prowl. “I’m sure his family pressured him into it, too.”
“Did you put a gun to his spark chamber? Threatened to execute his family if he refused you?”
Prowl scowled and his wings quivered in offense. “Of course not!”
Trax smirked once more. “Then if he did not want to bond to you he would have said no, plain and simple. Or at least ask for time to think about your proposition.”
“He...” Prowl paused, remembering more passages of his bondmate’s journal. “He mentioned that we should have waited in one of his entries.”
“A little too late, don’t you think?”
Prowl could only nod his agreement. He knew his bondmate had regretted their bonding and admitted that he had never loved Prowl as much as he loved his title. It had been one of the confessions that along with their child’s murder had striped Prowl of his kindness and affection and had hardened him into such a cold mech. Now, though, he felt so raw, his emotions surfacing once more, his hurt and fear... he felt like that youngling once more, except this time he had more control of himself.
“It is not you who took an innocent mech and destroyed him.” Trax ignored Prowl’s flinching and tense wing panels at his words. “I am not excusing your faults, for you had them, my lord. You put pressure on him once you both bonded and you laid unrealistic expectations on him. But your bondmate is responsible for what happened to himself, to your child and to you. He should have known better, but in his selfishness and his frivolous lifestyle he did not think of the impact of his own actions over others until it was too late. You gave him the gun, yes, but he pulled the trigger.”
“And you’d know all this...?” Prowl couldn’t help but feel Lord Trax was doing more than just theorize. He had knowledge, a first hand experience.
“Beat.” Trax murmured sadly. “Your bondmate and Beat had much in common. While your bondmate wasn’t anywhere as bad as Beat was, and I’ll admit to that readily, they had similar problems... their life styles influenced them into making bad decisions.”
“Jazz and his sire?” Prowl moved around the desk, coming closer to Trax as he asked.
“Jazz and his sire were just the culmination of many bad decisions Beat made in her life.” Trax shook his head as he met the blue gaze of the chevroned mech. “She did many things of which I am not proud, she contributed to the making and breaking of many mechs before she met Jazz’s sire.”
Trax looked away, glancing absently to a random point on the nearest wall, reminiscing. “Just as your bondmate took a youngling in a mech’s body and destroyed him, Beat did a similar feat with a good young mech that cared for her deeply. I wouldn’t say the mech wanted to pursue Beat, but because of her, that mech got into many troubles. That mech is no longer among the living either.”
Prowl remained silent, watching the visible sorrow that swept the older noblemech as he admitted to more of his daughter’s wrongs.
“Beat never seemed to realize it was her doing, in one way or another, and she didn’t even mourn for the mech.” Trax heaved a sigh. “Then you have Jazz... her lifestyle, fears and her selfishness denied her the love of her life. Denied me the right to meet my grandson, and denied Jazz the right to a family and to feel loved.”
Prowl couldn’t help but look back into his own life and his own experiences, coming to terms with truths he knew but which his guilt and the harsh words of a friend outweighed. “I cannot do it,” he murmured. “I am afraid it’ll all go wrong, that I’ll bring Jazz pain and that...”
“That Jazz would bring you pain like your bondmate did.” Trax finished for him.
Prowl’s shoulder’s sagged as he nodded. “Yes.”
A silence stretched between them for a while, Trax watched the usually proud and cold mech looking defeated, weary. “You care for Jazz, right?” He asked softly.
“More than I thought I did.”
“I came here, Lord Prowl, because I know what Jazz wants and needs is you.” He raised a hand to silence the protest he could already see forming itself on Prowl’s processors. “Whether you want to admit it or not, Jazz needs you. I know in my spark Jazz loves you, and I know you feel strongly for him. It’s up to you to decide if what you feel is love, but your feelings for Jazz are so strong you don’t want to hurt him, nor be hurt in return.” Trax turned around and headed for the door. “I have come to tell you that one bad experience, as terrible as it was, shouldn’t be the reason to not give love a second chance.”
As the door slid open, Prowl took a few steps forward, still fearful and doubtful. “Even if I did... my spark, I am not a normal mech.” He looked down to his chest, bringing a hand to stroke his chest plates.
Trax smiled a little sadly. “You’re right in that you’re not a normal mech. But that, Lord Prowl, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing. If your bond did not claim you, perhaps it’s because Primus has something else in store for you. The final decision is yours.”
Prowl watched as Trax left the room, the door closing behind him as Prowl reflected on the mech’s words. He wasn’t sure how long he spent standing in that spot, thinking and warring with himself and his own fears before he turned back to his desk, sitting down with the intention of continuing with his work. “No,” he said softly as he read through a paragraph. “The final decision is not mine but Jazz’s.”
Rating: R
Warnings: A bit of violence, angst, possible slashy goodness. Implied character death.
Characters: Trax, Volt, Prowl.
Setting: Movieverse AU.
Summary: In trying to live up to the name of his sire he gave his all, until he lost his own spark. Those who once loved him now called him "sparkless".
Notes: This is an AU bunny that belongs to snugsbunny, it's all her fault, I just happen to be the one writting it. Several concepts seen through the duration of this fic are hers and used with permission. This is a very AU fic so please take with a grain of salt.
Many thanks to mmouse15 for kindly beta reading this for me.
A lesser mech would have given into its grief, possibly slumping over a couch with as many vials of consumed high grade as possible scattered over the floor and furniture. But he was not a lesser mech, even if sometimes Prowl did feel he was less than most of mechs out there. No, he has responsibilities to see to, a city to rule and run and no matter how emotionally drained he felt, he could not afford to distract himself from his duties.
Almost four cycles had passed since he spoke with Jazz and his world came tumbling down once more. He berated himself continuously about his own stupidity, regretting over and over his own dropping of his defenses and allowing Jazz close, allowing the mech to hope something could exist between them. He had promised himself he wouldn’t care about anything or anyone anymore and blamed no one but himself for tripping over the same stone, allowing another mech close to him and thus close to his destructive presence. That wasn’t to say Prowl was not hurt himself. Jazz’s words claiming he had fallen in love with a sparkless mech had hurt so much, not only because he knew he had hurt Jazz but because he knew now there was no hope that Jazz would ever see him again. Their friendship was beyond repair now, he was certain.
Prowl chose to ignore a faint little voice in the back of his processors that insisted Prowl wanted more than just friendship from Jazz. He wasn’t going to deny it, that fierce kiss brought to the forefront that what he felt for Jazz was more than attraction. He cared for Jazz deeply and enjoyed the affection Jazz had shown him. He didn’t know if what he felt was love, he no longer had anything to compare with, as his previous experience turned out to be nothing like what he had imagined. But he knew he felt strongly for the smaller silver mech.
There was nothing that could come out of that, though, no matter how much Jazz insisted. Prowl knew he would only destroy Jazz and proceeded to demonstrate it, hurting the last mech he had wanted to harm. As much as it hurt him to think about it, Prowl hoped his Jazz would find someone else that would give him all the love he deserved and made him happy.
The silence of his office was broken by Volt’s voice. //My lord?//
//What is it, Volt?//
//You have a visitor, my lord. It’s Lord Trax.//
Prowl heaved a sigh. He suspected sooner or later Lord Trax would get word and come here, quite possibly to berate him for his wrongdoing to his grandson. He couldn’t blame the mech but Prowl wasn’t really in the mood to be lectured about it, he could berate himself efficiently enough. //Tell him I’m in the middle of an important conversation. I’ll receive him some other time.//
After a short pause Volt spoke again. //My lord, he says he can wait until you’re done with your business. He’s not leaving.//
Shaking his head and feeling his sour mood growing, Prowl instructed his servant to inform he’d see Trax in a joor. He used the time to mentally prepare himself for the recriminations he knew would come, while trying to finish what he was working on. After the joor passed, Prowl set his work aside. //Volt, you may allow Lord Trax in.//
The old blue mech led Lord Trax to the Lord of Praxus’ office, quietly leaving once the mech was allowed inside. Lord Trax bowed his head politely as Prowl gestured the seat across his desk where Trax had sat a few times in the past when this very same mech helped him to recover the last family he had left. “My lord.” Lord Trax greeted as he took a seat, watching the other mech intently - just by glance nobody would be able to tell the mech had been involved in a catastrophic incident with Jazz, as Lord Prowl seemed almost unaffected. It was only through knowing what to look for that Trax could see Prowl was far from unaffected and was definitely in a sour mood.
“Lord Trax.” Prowl nodded curtly. He wanted to ask how Jazz was faring, but did not dare to bring the smaller silver mech into the conversation, he didn’t need to give Lord Trax any prompting. “What may I do for you?”
Trax smiled a little, having expected the formal and business-like tone, making no mention of what had happened between himself and Jazz.
“It is more a case of what I may do for you, my lord.” Trax’s smile widened just a little in suitable smugness as his words earned him a confused expression on the other mech’s faceplates. “I am surprised you have not asked how Jazz is doing.”
Prowl frowned. “What are you trying to get at, Lord Trax?”
Trax raised a hand to appease the Lord of Praxus. “I’m not here to berate you if that’s what you think. Not the way you think, at least.”
“Then what are you here for?” Prowl didn’t bother hiding his annoyance and sour mood. “Shouldn’t you be with Jazz? Looking after him after what I did to him?”
“Jazz does not need me smothering him with my concern over something like this.” Trax leaned back on his seat, making himself comfortable. “He needs some time to himself and to sort himself out. Even though I know he won’t get over this easily or anytime soon.”
Prowl stood and turned around, giving his back to Trax as he glared angrily at the world through his window. “You might not have come to berate, but you’re clearly digging into the open wounds.”
“Am I?” Trax asked, watching the usually perfectly still and proud wing panels on the younger mechs’ back twitching and fluttering, a sure sign of his own distress. “Jazz told me what happened between the two of you. I admit I was not expecting that outcome.”
Prowl sneered. “What other outcome could you possibly expect? I am not suitable to pursue Jazz or any mech for that matter. Jazz’s current distress should be more than enough proof of that.”
“I expected the mech I’ve known to be calm, composed and rational; to make the best decision for himself and my grandson. Are you so blind you cannot see you and Jazz have something special that could be fulfilling for both of you?” Trax replied unfazed by the other mech’s burst of self loathing.
“Didn’t Jazz tell you everything about me?” Prowl glared at Trax over a wing panel, clearly calling upon all his might to stop the quivering of his own sensor panels. “Do you not know the sparkless freak my on people think me to be?”
“I am aware of everything. I know of your ill fated bonding and of your lost child, of the difficulties you went through. But you cannot live in the past forever, Lord Prowl.” Trax stood up, meeting the black and white mech’s glare with a stern look of his own. “And you must learn to accept that while you had certain faults in the decisions you took, you are a victim of many unfair circumstances in your life.”
Prowl laughed bitterly. “Victim? Me?”
“Yes, you.” Trax moved around the desk to come closer to the Lord of Praxus, sending any sense of propriety through the window. “You weren’t prepared for most of the things you had to face. None of that was your fault.”
Prowl looked away, refusing to meet the earnest optics of the noblemech. “I still took the life of someone that deserved better.”
“I beg to disagree.”
Prowl’s head snapped around to glare heatedly at Trax. “What?”
“I beg to disagree.” Trax repeated, unwavering. “You were but a child in an adult body. Your spark and your processors were not ready for that.”
Prowl protested, meeting the challenging optics with his own, convinced of his own faults. “I could have done something. Anything. I could have hired someone to tell me how to behave, what was proper and what was not.”
The older noblemech shook his head. “Perhaps you could have done so. It doesn’t mean you would have done what was advised to you. And you never know if your advisor would have had your best interest in mind instead of trying to manipulate your young spark and inexperience.” The mech took a step closer until he was face to face with the chevroned lord. “For all we know you could have ended up in a situation much worse.”
“It could have been better. At least it could have spared an innocent-“
Lord Trax’s voice interrupted the Lord of Praxus, anger coloring his voice. “Your bondmate was not an innocent mech, Lord Prowl. He went into your relationship fully knowing what he was getting himself into.”
“That’s not true.” Prowl snarled.
“Really now?” Trax took a few steps back and moved around the desk, crossing his arms behind his back as he paced around the room. “Do tell me, my lord, was your bondmate as young as you were? Was he a youngling in an adult body?”
“What are you trying to get at?”
“Just answer me.” Trax smirked sourly as he asked again. “Was he in a similar condition to your own?” At Prowl’s shake of his head Trax began to pace around again. “Wasn’t he already an adult mech when his family moved to Praxus?”
“Almost. His final upgrade was performed here a few deca-cycles after they settled in.”
“So, you acknowledge that your bondmate was most definitely an adult mech when you first met him?”
Prowl frowned. “What does that have to do with any of this?”
Trax smiled. “You’re a smart mech, my lord, can’t you figure it out? Your bondmate was an adult, fully aware of what you offered him and wanted in return. He knew you were still a youngling in an adult body --he mentioned it several times in his own diary if Jazz informed me right.” Trax began to pace around the office again. “It is true you rushed through your relationship, you were eager and naive, but your bondmate was not. He should have known that such relationship could not be maintained that way.”
Prowl did not speak, voices raised in his head once more, begging him to acknowledge the truth in Trax’s words.
“Spark maturity and body maturity are different things, my lord and you know it very well. Your bondmate chose not to acknowledge Prowl, the mech. He wanted Lord Prowl, the state figure.” Trax shook his head as he paced around, seemingly growing a tad more agitated as he spoke. “You did not know what you were doing, but he should have known. And if he had loved you for who you were and desired to have a good relationship with you, he would have known that for your relationship to work out time and care was essential. He did no such thing.”
“I pressured him,” Prowl spoke softly, remembering clearly the last realization that struck his bondmate in his deathberth: that he had bonded to his title and not to Prowl. “I’m sure his family pressured him into it, too.”
“Did you put a gun to his spark chamber? Threatened to execute his family if he refused you?”
Prowl scowled and his wings quivered in offense. “Of course not!”
Trax smirked once more. “Then if he did not want to bond to you he would have said no, plain and simple. Or at least ask for time to think about your proposition.”
“He...” Prowl paused, remembering more passages of his bondmate’s journal. “He mentioned that we should have waited in one of his entries.”
“A little too late, don’t you think?”
Prowl could only nod his agreement. He knew his bondmate had regretted their bonding and admitted that he had never loved Prowl as much as he loved his title. It had been one of the confessions that along with their child’s murder had striped Prowl of his kindness and affection and had hardened him into such a cold mech. Now, though, he felt so raw, his emotions surfacing once more, his hurt and fear... he felt like that youngling once more, except this time he had more control of himself.
“It is not you who took an innocent mech and destroyed him.” Trax ignored Prowl’s flinching and tense wing panels at his words. “I am not excusing your faults, for you had them, my lord. You put pressure on him once you both bonded and you laid unrealistic expectations on him. But your bondmate is responsible for what happened to himself, to your child and to you. He should have known better, but in his selfishness and his frivolous lifestyle he did not think of the impact of his own actions over others until it was too late. You gave him the gun, yes, but he pulled the trigger.”
“And you’d know all this...?” Prowl couldn’t help but feel Lord Trax was doing more than just theorize. He had knowledge, a first hand experience.
“Beat.” Trax murmured sadly. “Your bondmate and Beat had much in common. While your bondmate wasn’t anywhere as bad as Beat was, and I’ll admit to that readily, they had similar problems... their life styles influenced them into making bad decisions.”
“Jazz and his sire?” Prowl moved around the desk, coming closer to Trax as he asked.
“Jazz and his sire were just the culmination of many bad decisions Beat made in her life.” Trax shook his head as he met the blue gaze of the chevroned mech. “She did many things of which I am not proud, she contributed to the making and breaking of many mechs before she met Jazz’s sire.”
Trax looked away, glancing absently to a random point on the nearest wall, reminiscing. “Just as your bondmate took a youngling in a mech’s body and destroyed him, Beat did a similar feat with a good young mech that cared for her deeply. I wouldn’t say the mech wanted to pursue Beat, but because of her, that mech got into many troubles. That mech is no longer among the living either.”
Prowl remained silent, watching the visible sorrow that swept the older noblemech as he admitted to more of his daughter’s wrongs.
“Beat never seemed to realize it was her doing, in one way or another, and she didn’t even mourn for the mech.” Trax heaved a sigh. “Then you have Jazz... her lifestyle, fears and her selfishness denied her the love of her life. Denied me the right to meet my grandson, and denied Jazz the right to a family and to feel loved.”
Prowl couldn’t help but look back into his own life and his own experiences, coming to terms with truths he knew but which his guilt and the harsh words of a friend outweighed. “I cannot do it,” he murmured. “I am afraid it’ll all go wrong, that I’ll bring Jazz pain and that...”
“That Jazz would bring you pain like your bondmate did.” Trax finished for him.
Prowl’s shoulder’s sagged as he nodded. “Yes.”
A silence stretched between them for a while, Trax watched the usually proud and cold mech looking defeated, weary. “You care for Jazz, right?” He asked softly.
“More than I thought I did.”
“I came here, Lord Prowl, because I know what Jazz wants and needs is you.” He raised a hand to silence the protest he could already see forming itself on Prowl’s processors. “Whether you want to admit it or not, Jazz needs you. I know in my spark Jazz loves you, and I know you feel strongly for him. It’s up to you to decide if what you feel is love, but your feelings for Jazz are so strong you don’t want to hurt him, nor be hurt in return.” Trax turned around and headed for the door. “I have come to tell you that one bad experience, as terrible as it was, shouldn’t be the reason to not give love a second chance.”
As the door slid open, Prowl took a few steps forward, still fearful and doubtful. “Even if I did... my spark, I am not a normal mech.” He looked down to his chest, bringing a hand to stroke his chest plates.
Trax smiled a little sadly. “You’re right in that you’re not a normal mech. But that, Lord Prowl, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing. If your bond did not claim you, perhaps it’s because Primus has something else in store for you. The final decision is yours.”
Prowl watched as Trax left the room, the door closing behind him as Prowl reflected on the mech’s words. He wasn’t sure how long he spent standing in that spot, thinking and warring with himself and his own fears before he turned back to his desk, sitting down with the intention of continuing with his work. “No,” he said softly as he read through a paragraph. “The final decision is not mine but Jazz’s.”