A Chance ---> Update! ^^ ch. 3
Title: A chance
Disclaimer: Transformers doesn't belong to me :)
Characters: Prowl, Bluestreak, Ratchet
Summary: Prowl knew Bluestreak even before the beginning of the war. See how they met and how their fates intertwined. Not slash between Blue and Prowl, future Prowl/Jazz.
AN: The other chapters could be found on the Master Fic List :)
Beta'd by the amazing
gracesolo
Very, very pre-war.
Prowl sighed as he placed the data pad down. No work would be done today. Not when his optics kept lingering towards the recharging youngling, curled up on the huge sofa in his office.
At first, Prowl contemplated whether or not it would be appropriate to bring the youngling to the Enforcer's HQ, enrolling him in a witness protection program, but Jazz's warning never left his thoughts.
The said youngling had woken up only once, briefly taking in his surroundings. Prowl had tried to explain to the young one what was happening but exhaustion prompted the child to fall back in to recharge again.
Prowl had worried that Bluestreak would panic, having gone through such an ordeal, but the youngling merely tucked his head in closer to Prowl's plating and resumed recharge. Somewhere deep in his processor the mechling had made the connection black and white - Prowl - safe-safe!
The enforcer brought the youngling to his huge home. After his creators off-lined, the huge house seemed even bigger. Prowl's creators were wealthy mechs - his carrier had been a brilliant medic and his sire a dedicated enforcer. Both mechs were deeply in love, not only with each other but with their jobs as well. Thus the reason why Prowl never had any siblings. Even if Prowl didn't see much of his creators, he was loved and well taken care of as a youngling, and that was all Prowl needed.
But barely a vorn ago, his creators had off-lined from a tragic accident. His sire had been shot during patrol, his carrier was not able to save him, and both went to the matrix. Even if Prowl was already a fully upgraded and independent mech, it was still a harsh blow, for both him and his creator's many friends.
Prowl always preferred to work with cold efficiency, but after the death of his creators, he became even colder and more distant, even mechs from the enforcer department starting to fear him.
Loneliness is a terrible disease.
The house he lived in, the house of his creators was big, even for their lofty standards. It was a two level complex, containing a couple of spare berthrooms, living and dining room along with a huge washrack. There was his carrier's office where he used to take in patients from time to time when he wasn't working in the hospital and his sire's office as well, which was now Prowl's. And yet, Prowl didn't allow himself to feel lonely and depressed, burring himself in work.
Work he wasn't able to do. His reason? A small youngling, swallowed by the huge sofa in the office kept emitting soft clicking noises in his sleep that only sparklings and younglings did.
As if sensing that he was being watched, Bluestreak slowly powered up his optics. His wings fluttered as they stretched and he locked sleepy optics with Prowl.
A heavy silence followed.
Bluestreak looked around, for the first time taking in his surroundings. Bluestreak asked with a curiosity and innocence only a youngling could possess, "Where am I?"
"In my home." Prowl straightened in his seat.
"Oh."
Prowl rubbed his chevron. This was going to be difficult.
"Do you know what's happening, Bluestreak? Do you remember who I am? How you got here?"
"...Prowl."
"That's right. I'm Prowl. We've already met." He regarded the youngling, noticing his defensive position, knees tucked and hands wrapped around himself, "Do you remember what happened last cycle?"
"Umm...no." The child shied away. Prowl frowned. Jazz had told him that this was the witness to the slaughter at the warehouse.
"What do you remember? Do you know who Swindle is?" At the mention of the name, the mechlet's wings started trembling so hard Prowl actually heard the metal rattling.
"Yeah...I just don't remember anything from last cycle..." Prowl frowned further. He checked the time - it would appear it was mid-morning. The shaken up child wouldn't be answering his questions anytime soon. If his reaction to just mentioning Swindle's name is so frightening for the young spark, then time would be required to coax an explanation out.
He stood up and went to kneel in front of the youngling. Bluestreak flinched away but otherwise said nothing as Prowl scooped him up awkwardly (he really was that small) and carried him to the kitchen.
"Here." Prowl offered the gray Praxian a smaller cube filled with pale pink energon, while he drank his bigger cube of the richer shaded mid-grade . Bluestreak accepted the offering, not daring to deny anything.
"What is it?" Prowl asked, noticing that Bluestreak wasn't drinking his cube.
"It's the wrong color..." The cube was eyed warily.
"It's low grade. It's what underdeveloped tanks require." Prowl had done his research while Bluestreak rested. He knew what to provide so the youngling could remain energized and healthy, but that was it.
"Oh." Bluestreak looked at the cube, his wariness slowly vanishing and took a small sip. "It's sweeter." Bluestreak smiled. He liked the taste of this cube better than the ones he used to drink.
Prowl had placed his cube down and was regarding the youngling fully, "Is this the first time you have drank low grade?" At Bluestreak's nod Prowl couldn't help but curse inwardly. The mechling had probably been drinking normal, non-purified mid-grade. His systems were not meant for that yet, and drinking too high of an energon grade too soon could have long-term effects on a youngling.
He quickly added an appointment to the medics for later this Orn to his mental list of things to do as he watched Bluestreak drink the entire cube hungrily. After Bluestreak finished the cube he was scooped up again. The youngling flinched again but otherwise stayed quiet.
Prowl carried his young charge to the washracks next.
"Big..." Bluestreak muttered, as he eyed his surrounding in astonishment. There was a huge 'pool' where mechs are supposed to simply relax as the water and solvent removed the dust from their frames, while the shower stalls were meant for the real cleaning.
Bluestreak eyes the 'pool' warily. He hated ponds. But most of all, he hated deep ponds. Prowl must have been following his gaze, since he advised Bluestreak to stay away from it. He could easily fall and drown himself.
Bluestreak sighed in relief as the grime from his body was slowly being removed and warmth from the solvent spray crept all over his body. When was the last time he had such a thorough wash? A while back with Topspin, but it was so long ago.
Prowl took extra care of Bluestreak's door wings. Prowl's carrier had always instructed him to wash them at least every orn to prevent dust and grime from getting in between the delicate joints. Apparently, Bluestreak hadn't been taught the same. The enforcer couldn't say he was surprised.
Prowl suddenly stopped what he was doing when he heard a faint sound emitting from the mechling. Bluestreak's engine...was purring?
It was a soft noise. So low that probably almost no one would be able to hear it with the water falling from the stall, but it was still there. It sounded... nice.
After drying Bluestreak, the youngling was placed again on the sofa as Prowl returned to his desk. Now that the youngling was fed and cleaned, Prowl could return to work with a processor at peace. He had to figure out how Bluestreak's life would continue from now on and who would take responsibility for him.
Unfortunately, Prowl didn't realize he treated Bluestreak like a pet, not a youngling. Fortunately, Bluestreak didn't either.
How long will Bluestreak stay here? They can't force him to stay here forever - he is a living sentient being. Locking him up would be deteriorating for his health. What if the youngling never remembered what happened last cycle? They wouldn't be able to take his statement. But it was probably better this way, not remembering that slaughter... Prowl shook his head. Bluestreak had been a witness to many other wrongings by this criminal. Surely they were enough.
He took out an empty data pad and started writing a list of the things he would need. From more low grade energon to new paint, since he was considering repainting the young mech...
He looked up from his pad to check on Bluestreak, only to find him missing. All of his thoughts came to a halt as he stood up and quickly headed for the door. When had he slipped away? He was a pickpocket, stealth was in the job description. No wonder Prowl didn't hear him sneaking out of his office.
Luckily, as a youngling growing up here, Prowl had found all of the best hiding places this house possessed and quickly started checking them all. Bluestreak wasn't in any of them. Bluestreak hadn't explored the house enough to know them yet. Prowl found the youngling in his old room, sitting on his knees on the window seat, doorwings low and looking off into the distance.
"He's going to find me, isn't he?" Bluestreak didn't wait for an answer, continuing his thoughts aloud. "He always does." Prowl didn't need to ask who he was. "H-he killed them." Bluestreak trembled.
"Sunny and Sides… Primus, they're dead. Just like my creators. They are dead because of me. B-Because I-I couldn't protect them…"
Prowl heard the youngling's vents hiccup and even if on the outside he remained impassive, on the inside panic started to rise. What was he supposed to do now? He wasn't very good at showing his emotions. His parents didn't know what to say in situations like these as well. They just either held him or let him clear his possessor on his own. Prowl went with the first.
He scooped up Bluestreak again, noticing for the first time that the youngling was holding a picture...Where did he get it? The subspace...Prowl would ask the medic to disable most of Bluestreak's functions. They were not meant for a youngling's frame. Not yet. It was a miracle he could even drive. Sometimes it takes orns for mechs to learn that.
"They were my best and only friends…" Bluestreak muttered miserably. At first, just like before, he flinched when Prowl touched him but relaxed in the embrace.
Prowl at loss what to say to a grieving youngling just held him tighter, offering protection. That at least Prowl knew he was capable of. The enforcer got startled of his thoughts when he got a ping on his intercom.
Prowl straightened but didn't release Bluestreak since the mechling refused to let him go. The elder Praxian focused on the call. It was the medic he requested for. He was early. He was friends of his carrier from Iacon. Prowl knew he could trust him. It was better than visiting the clinic, not now when he didn't know who he could trust.
"Come along, Bluestreak." Prowl said quietly. He left Bluesteak waiting in his carrier's office as he went to greet the medic.
"Ratchet, I am glad you were able to respond so quickly." Prowl gave a rare smile, reserved only for his friends. He felt the tingle of a scan and raised his brows in hidden amusement.
"Huh, well for once you are at optimum levels. Which leaves us to the question, why am I here?" The gruff medic entered as Prowl stepped aside. "Did that idiot of a saboteur slagged himself up again? Because, Primus help him, if he did…" A threat left hanging in the air as Prowl led the medic further in his house. This would not be the first time of Ratchet coming here.
Being friends with Jazz was hazardous.
"You must treat this with a lot of discretion, Ratchet. A youngling's life may be at stake." Prowl answered as he led the medic to his carrier's office.
Medic and youngling froze.
"You!" Ratchet glared, "What on Cybertron are you doing here?" Later, Ratchet would prize himself for restraining his curses in front of young audios.
"You two know each other?" Prowl asked as he looked at Bluestreak's worried expression. The youngling was looking like considering bolting right then and there but knew better.
"Yeah," Ratchet muttered but softened his features, seeing the frightened youth, "I've been trying to catch this one for quite some time. Ever since he stole my credits and demonstrated his ability to transform, I was trying to find him. Younglings are not meant to transform. I'm going to carve that in his creators CPU's with a blow torch if I have too."
The medic moved over to the youngling but it was then that Bluestreak finally had it and jumped from the couch, only to hide under the desk.
"Whoa! It's okay Blue! I'm not going to hurt you!" Ratchet looked sadly at the cowering youngling.
Prowl calmly (he knew he had to respond slowly and carefully around Bluestreak) crouched in front of the desk, peaking under it. Ratchet stood a safe distance behind, watching the spectacle.
"Please come out, Bluestreak. No one will hurt you, I promise." Prowl softly murmured to the youngling. So far, talking gently to the young one seemed to work. But this time Bluestreak simply curled around himself even more, staring wide opticed at the medic.
"Please, Bluestreak." Prowl reached with a servo, "Come out? For me?"
Finally deciding it was safe, Bluestreak slowly, tentatively emerged from under the desk, helped up by Prowl.
"Don't leave me alone with him." The quiet youngling muttered.
"I won't." Prowl said and lifted Bluestreak to the sofa. "He's going to check you for injuries and viruses. Ratchet will also disable your transformation, subspace and internal comm. link. A youngling is not supposed to have them. It's against the law."
"Why?" Came the innocent reply.
"Listen, Blue." Ratchet started. He needed to ensure the small Praxian that he was not a threat. "You are still very, very young. You are not meant for those upgrades, yet. Not only are you not mature enough, but also they strain your systems quite a lot. Probably the reason why you were given normal midgrade and not low grade, if my scans are right."
"Oh." That made sense. Bluestreak did feel really tired at the end of each orn. But he liked his upgrades. But if Prowl insisted them gone and the medic thought they were bad for him , Bluestreak would allow them to be removed.
"Now, I'm just going to offline you. You won't feel a thing. I promise you that." Ratchet spoke gently as he stopped in front of the youngling, huddled at Prowls side.
Bluestreak felt Prowls hand tightened around his shoulder in reassurance and let the medic plug in via a port in his neck. Not long after that, he was soundly in recharge.
TBC. Tell me what you think?