Finally done, sorry for the late update!
Title: Acrophobia - Making Amends (4/4)
Rating: T
Universe: Pre Movie 07
Warnings: a little angst, fluff and a smidgen of slash
Summary: After everything that has been said and done, can there truly be forgiveness and a way forward without regret?
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just toy with them and hand them back in less than pristine condition.
Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, you absolutely made my day! ^_^ and therefore, I present this next and final chapter to you (urgh and hasn't it been a pain in the ass to me, I couldn't settle on a way to end it so I decided to go with this one. Not sure it if was the right idea but it’s done). I know I also promised it would be up as soon as possible but you won’t believe how busy I’ve been and not had the chance to sit down and write!
I've tried *drops to knees* to sort out the grammatical and spelling errors, but feel free to let me know if there are any.
Orn - day
Joor - hour
Cycle - week
Vorn - year
'blah' - memory flashback
* * * * * * * * * *
“You can't undo anything you've already done, but you can face up to it. You can tell the truth. You can seek forgiveness. And then let God do the rest.”- Unknown Author
It was turning out to be one of those orns where Ratchet wished he hadn’t bothered getting out of the recharge berth that morning. Although with the list of patients he had, he knew it would have been unfair for First Aid to deal with them. The orn had started with a rather fragged off looking Ironhide dragging in a pair of rambunctious twins, the pair of them had been dented, scratched and had even sported several scorch marks upon their armoured plating. The weapons specialist had shoved them to a berth and stormed out, leaving the disgruntled Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to Ratchet’s tender mercy. It turned out that the pair of them had been fighting in the firing range (Ironhide’s ‘personal’ domain) and the weapons specialist had intervened after finally having enough of their bickering. The CMO had fixed them and sent them on their way, although Ratchet had intentionally forgotten about fixing their paint which would without a doubt; leave Sunstreaker in a foul mood for several joors. He knew it was probably a bad idea given the gold warriors temperament and the rather high percentage that someone (aka Sideswipe if not one of the minibots) was going to rile him up the wrong way.
The chartreuse mech was at this moment waiting for the usual two things to happen that normally occurred on an orn to orn basis (it normally would have been three if Prowl wasn’t already in the med-bay). He was anticipating the moment where either Wheeljack blew up his lab, or Red Alert had one of his once an orn fritz out session. However he was hoping for neither of them to cause a problem, including the twins, as he was currently writing up a report upon the status of both Prowl and Jazz.
Ratchet hummed at the two mech’s designations. The pair of them had been causing quite a stir amongst the unit stationed at Iacon, every one including himself had feared where to tread after the infamous couple had a disagreement. The CMO had to admit though the saboteur had every right to be angry at his partner for what had happened, after all Prowl had taken a chance to exploit one of Jazz’s weaknesses so he could win a bet with the twins. But Ratchet had wondered whether the silver mech had blown it a little out of proportion especially once he involved his special ops unit, although he did wander whether they involved themselves on their own accord. Being the tight knit group that they were. He had dealt with Red Alert and his glitch more times then he dared to count during those several cycles. Not to mention the one incident when Sunstreaker and Jazz were dragged into his repair bay by several mechs, he quickly discovered that the pair of them had gotten into a fist fight over the saboteur proclaiming that he wasn’t, as immature as it sounded, speaking to the twins at the moment. Ratchet had been close to bashing their helms together as they exchanged one word offences at each other across the med-bay, before the medic finally booted them out after having enough of their youngling behaviour.
Of course the morale of the unit continued to plummet as the saboteur continued to draw out his feud with Prowl, but the medic had a sneaking feeling that something else was playing on Jazz’s behaviour. He had been half tempted to weld the pair of them together, and have them apologise to each other. But he knew that they would only pull rank on him, however he did have enough evidence to have the pair of them suspended from their duties and confined to quarters. However he never got that chance as Optimus assigned them both to the same mission; to locate and provide assistance to Ultra Magnus’ unit. The CMO had expressed to Ironhide that he very much doubted Prowl and Jazz would work together. But the black mech had simply patted him on the shoulder and told him that something would come up, and the pair of them would have to pull their heads out of their afts in order to get out of it in one piece. The weapons specialist had no idea how coincidental his remark would be when they received word from Ultra Magnus’ group that the saboteur and the tactician had gone MIA during the retreat. Optimus had immediately assigned a search and rescue team instantly in order to locate his second and third command, and once the equipment was packed and stowed upon a transport, they had headed out to their last known co-ordinates.
Ratchet sat back in his seat as he regarded the wall across from him, it had taken them several joors to reach the two stranded officers due to the last pocket of Decepticon resistance. But eventually they had gotten to them and found that they were both alive, if only barely in Jazz’s case. The CMO remembered butting in on the conversation between Blaster, Hound and Prowl, and being alerted to their conditions. Then once all the equipment had been set up, he had the chance of seeing their wounds up close and personal. Suspecting that the military strategist had only been minimally damaged, Ratchet had sent him top side with Groove as he focused his efforts on Jazz, who had decided to fight them in his delirious state. However he realised that he should never have trusted his initial judgement nor Prowl’s word that he was fine, as it turned out the tactician had a serious spinal strut injury that required him to be strapped to a back board for the rest of the journey home. The CMO had been none to happy to learn that fact from First Aid after Prowl had collapsed from the pain, and decided to chew him out for it once he regained consciousness.
And chew him out he did after the several orns of repairing each of their injuries and keeping a close optic on the low grade infection Jazz had contracted. As usual Prowl had been his normal calm self and apologised for not bringing the issue up when he had been prompted. Ratchet had only deflated once he had informed the tactician about all the gruesome possibilities of what could have happened to his spinal struts and array, just to drive his point home. That had been a few orns ago and the tactician was still in his med-bay slowly recuperating from his injuries and the repairs, usually the black and white mech would try and swindle his way back onto light duty as soon as possible. But this time he seemed more inclined to stay, and the CMO wandered whether it had something to do with his other patient.
Trained keen audios detected slight movement from the main med-bay, Ratchet placed the data-pad and stylus he had been holding and pushed his chair back slightly in order to glance around the doorway and into the large room. His azure gaze immediately fell upon Prowl who had also lowered a data-pad he had been reading and was currently looking toward one of the other berths just out of the medic’s sight. The chartreuse mech pushed himself up and out of his seat and stepped out of his office, and into the large room. He glanced at Prowl when the tactician pushed himself up a little bit better on his berth, then followed his gaze to the other berths lined along the walls, Ratchet's gaze fell upon the lithe form of the third in command who was just beginning to come out of stasis. A groan escaped the silver mech's vocaliser as he attempted to on-line his optics only to be met with the bright lights above him. The CMO proceeded across to Jazz's berth and checked the diagnostic readouts upon monitor above his head which indicated that everything looked fine.
“Welcome back to the land of the functioning Jazz.” The chartreuse mech greeted the saboteur.
“Urgh what the slag have ya pumped in ta ma systems?” The silver mech demanded as he rested one of his clawed hands upon the crest of his helm, effectively blocking out the light.
“The old good run of the mill pain killers.” Ratchet informed him “you'll be fine once they've worn off.”
The silver mech focused his gaze back on the ceiling “How long 'ave I been out for?” He glanced back at the chartreuse mech stood beside his berth.
The CMO faltered for a moment. He knew Jazz was one of the few who didn't like being unconscious for long periods of time, and considered his next words carefully “You were nearly out for a whole full cycle.”
“I was what?” Jazz demanded as he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position only for the medic to plant a hand none too gently upon the 3IC's right shoulder strut and pushed him back to lying down upon the padded surface of the berth. The saboteur was granted a split second glance of black and white plating before he disappeared from his sight, the silver mech felt his spark pulse faster in its chamber at seeing Prowl alive and well. Good he had a few things he needed to clear and sort out with him.
“I'm not having you placing any further strain upon your systems, so you can calm down.” Ratchet told him sternly as he checked the repairs he had made, especially the side injury that had attracted the low grade infection which had taken two orns to clear. The saboteur flinched slightly when the medic prodded the new growth of metallic skin, which happened to be a little lighter than the rest of his plating before covering it back up again with the flexiseal “I'll run a few scans and then I want you back in recharge.”
“Ya gotta be slaggin' me, I've been in stasis for a cycle an' ya expect me ta go back in ta recharge?” Jazz asked as he attempted to push himself back up into a sitting position.
“If I knew you were going to be this difficult, I would have left you sedated until I was ready to discharge you.” The CMO responded as he pressed a hand against the centre of the saboteur's chest plates and pushed him none too gently back into a lying position again “now stay down and go into recharge like a good mech or I'll put you under.” Jazz shot the medic a glare only to receive one in return, he knew better than to argue with the CMO in his domain. The silver mech submitted to the scans before shutting down into recharge as instructed. The chartreuse mech made sure that the head of special ops had completely shut down before stepping back and away from Jazz's berth “I swear he gives me more trouble then you.” He pointed those words at the only other occupant in the room, he met Prowl's cool calculating glance with his own stern one before making his way back to his office.
The tactician watched as the medic disappeared into the recesses of his office before turning his gaze upon the silver mech, glad to finally see him regain awareness. He could honestly say it had been touch and go for the past few orns, and he was concerned that the damage that Jazz had sustained had been too much for the saboteur to cope with. But the head of special ops had pulled through, a fact he was most glad for as he and the silver mech still had a few issues they needed to sort out between them. He knew Jazz had every chance at revoking everything he had said simply because he was no longer faced with possibility of going off-line. However he knew within his spark that everything the saboteur had said had been sincere and meant which opened the possibility that maybe not all was lost between them.
The black and white mech was drawn out of his thoughts when he heard a string of curses from the office directly across from him before there was movement from Ratchet's office. He glanced up in time to see the chartreuse mech to step out of the small adjoining room and grumble something about reformatting a pair of twin warriors and a certain security director, the tactician watched as he gathered a medical kit from one of the storage closets before storming out of the med-bay. Although not before shooting the black and white with a glare, that threatened him to remain where he was or risk getting welded to the berth he was currently occupying. Prowl had no intention of leaving the repair bay any time soon, although normally he would have tried to escape the confines of the room and wheedle his way back onto light duty. The tactician returned his attention back to the data-pad in his hand when he heard movement from the right side of him, he glanced over to where Jazz was to find that the silver mech's optics were un-shuttered and brightly lit.
“I believe Ratchet gave the order that you were to go back into recharge.” The military strategist said as he placed his data-pad down upon the surface of the berth and settled his gaze fully upon the saboteur.
“Doesn't mean I have to listen to it.” Jazz responded as he pushed himself up onto his elbows only to moan softly when his healing injuries protested against the movement.
Prowl sighed through his intakes hoping the saboteur wasn't going to do anything rash “You can be as stubborn as they come.”
“Says you.” The silver mech responded as he pulled himself up fully into a sitting position “how come you've not busted out of here yet?”
“Because you and I need to talk.” Prowl stated succinctly. The saboteur glanced at the wall opposite him, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He knew he still loved Prowl with all his spark but the tactician's 'abuse' of his trust made him wonder whether he could trust the black and white mech again. The silver mech knew what his older brother's opinion upon the situation would be, but Ricochet was no longer amongst the processing; a fact that made his spark clench painfully in its chamber. The tactician noticed the small sad frown appearing upon the saboteur's facial plates and he felt his fuel pump skip a beat in apprehension “Jazz?” The black and white dared to call the silver mech's designation, and was rewarded by Jazz's azure gaze landing upon him.
“I'm thinking.” The head of special ops told him.
“Be careful you don't strain something in the process.” Prowl said jokingly, only to realise that maybe he had pulled the wrong move and Jazz might snap at him instead. He was about to apologise when the once genuine and easy going smile appeared upon the saboteur's lip components, the tactician felt his spark flutter at the sight.
“If I had the energy, I'd kick your cute aft for that.” Jazz responded as his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. Now he understood why Ratchet wanted him back in recharge, but he feared that once he did, he would on-line again and miss his opportunity to talk to Prowl.
The military strategist looked at him in concern “Want me to call Ratchet back?”
“No he'll only see it as an excuse ta weld me to the berth or sedate me again.” The special ops officer replied as he glanced down at the healing side injury, he picked at the edges of the flexiseal that covered it whilst the new metal skin regenerated. Morbid curiosity as to how close he came to being terminated by the injury crossed his CPU, he had figured he had been a dead mech back in the bunker considering his injuries. But it seemed that the Allspark wasn't beckoning him home that day and allowed him to live to fight another day. And just may be make amends with those that he had dissolved relationships and friendships with, which reminded him “why did you do what you did?”
Prowl glanced up from the data-pad he had picked up again and stared at the opposite wall, he wondered at first what the saboteur could be referring to only to realise that may be he was being given his opportunity to explain himself “I didn't set out to hurt you. I knew how hectic things were becoming back then with the work load and the missions not meeting their requirements.” His gaze met that of Jazz's “I saw how it was beginning to affect you orn in and orn out to the point you looked ready to snap.” A sigh escaped the silver mech, he knew all that too be true, in-between the work load that seemed to have doubled over night was simply not helping when mission briefings didn't go the way he wanted them too. Some of them came back with holes big enough that Optimus could fit through them, which would without a doubt end in either failure or the operative being captured or worse; killed “I also failed you in not being there to provide the support you so desperately needed, and the bet with the twins? I should never have agreed to it, it was pathetically immature of me.” Jazz looked at the tactician somewhat bewildered at the words leaving the black and white's vocaliser, he opened his mouth plates intending to say a few words only for Prowl to hold up his hand; halting him “Jazz if I had not taken that bet, I would not have lost your trust and friendship . . . .” He met the silver mech's gaze fully “. . . . I would not have lost the mech I considered as my soul mate.”
The special ops mech found his processors grind to a halt as he flailed for an answer “Prowl I . . . .” He cursed himself vehemently internally as he struggled to find the words in order to respond. The saboteur was also having trouble processing that Prowl had seen him as his soul mate, something that was a rare find on Cybertron let alone in the midst of a war. The saboteur was brought out of his brief musing when he heard movement and was surprised to see the tactician slid off his berth, then unsteadily make his way toward him. Jazz reached out to him when he stumbled slightly only to hiss in pain when it pulled upon his own injuries.
“Jazz all I ask is for your forgiveness.” The tactician said meeting the silver mech's gaze fully and held onto a single clawed hand “and I respect any decision you make baring our relationship.” The special ops mech was still having trouble finding the right words and knew he had to say something soon or he would lose the opportunity. But frag if his processor was being a complete slagtard and refusing to co-operate with him. He opened his mouth plates to say anything but promptly shut them again when nothing became to mind, he was slowly beginning to blame the pain killers that had been pumped into his systems for making his thought processes retarded.
'Now what's this? Someone's shut up the infamous Jazz? How's that possible?' He suddenly heard his brother's voice in his head. Jazz began to suspect his sanity was slipping especially if he was hearing his deceased brother's voice in his head, he was seriously thinking about finding some sort of stimulant in order to get rid of the groggy feeling sweeping through his entire frame. That was the number one reason why he hated prolonged stays in the med-bay, Ratchet had the tendency to drug him up to the optics in order to make sure he didn't rush off to do something rash.
The saboteur tore his optics from the black and white mech refusing to meet his gaze, he needed to collect his thoughts before he said anything that he might regret “Prowl I'm sorry.”
The tactician's shoulder slumped and the elegant sensory panels drooped to the point when they were almost laid flat against his back “I . . . understand.” His spark clenched painfully in his chest, he had tried his hardest to get the saboteur to forgive him but it just seemed in the end, that it wasn't good enough.
“That's not what I mean.” Jazz reassured him with a small smile. He watched as a small surprised look appeared upon the tactician's facial plates, the elegant sensory panels flicker before slowly rising up on Prowl's back “I forgive you but . . . I don't know if I can trust you again.” For a second time in the past few breems, Prowl's sensory panels drooped at the final words leaving the saboteur's vocaliser. The black and white mech recalled how challenging it had been the last time to get the saboteur's trust the first time round, and despaired at the thought of having to do it all over again. Prowl had quickly found that special ops bots were one of the hardest in the unit to earn the trust of. He had successfully earned his after countless vorns by performing to the best of his abilities in order to get Jazz and his agents home after each of their missions. But now he had lost it, vorns of hard work gone to waste through one reckless stunt, and here he was faced with the painstaking work of earning it once again.
“I understand.” Prowl replied. He didn't want to but what other choice did he have besides down right begging?
Jazz sighed through his intakes “Prowler I want us to be together again but I gotta know that ya won't do somethin' as reckless like that again.” The silver mech slumped in on himself slightly as his entire frame was starting to become weary from just sitting up, several warnings started appearing upon his HUD and he knew he didn't have much time “can ya promise me that one thing?”
“If only the favour is returned.” The tactician replied meeting Jazz's gaze fully “your behaviour in the last battle was questionable, but I am willing to ignore those transgressions as desperation to find out what had happened to Ricochet.” Prowl knew he was treading upon dangerous ground but he was willing to risk it “and I know that if I had been in your position, I'd probably done the same.”
“Probably.” The silver mech said “but ya know trust is earned and not given?”
“A lesson I believe you taught me, and Jazz I am willing to do anything in order to get that trust back.” The tactician replied, he gave the clawed hand he was holding a gentle squeeze.
A small tired smile made its way onto Jazz's lip components “I know ya will.” The black and white mech noticed immediately how the saboteur's entire frame seem to slump in on itself, he knew he would have to get Jazz back into recharge before Ratchet returned.
“You should go back into recharge.” Prowl told the silver mech as he rested one hand upon the side of the saboteur's helm, Jazz smiled at him tiredly.
“Only if you rest with me.” The special ops officer replied, the tactician gave a small smile before pulling himself up onto the berth next to the silver mech. He saw Jazz scan him critically checking him over after he saw the black and white mech winced, but Prowl reassured him that he was fine. The black and white mech was more than a little surprised when the saboteur shuffled up as close as he possibly could and cuddled in close to warm armour. Prowl was a little unsure of what to make of the contact as jazz hadn't exactly stated whether they were to remain as friends or could pick up where they left up, but none the less wrapped his arms about the silver mech's shoulders. He felt Jazz hum in contentment against his chest plate and glanced down to see dim blue optics glancing up at him “I'm beginnin' ta understand the reasonin' for did what ya did.”
The tactician shifted uncomfortably when his back protested from being sat up too long “I could have found another way of helping you get over your phobia of heights.”
“Maybe.” The silver mech mumbled “which reminds me, it's your turn now.”
Prowl frowned at that “For what?”
“Ta face one of ya fears.” Jazz replied.
“I'm not afraid of anything.” The tactician told him.
“Liar, I know exactly what ya afraid of.” The saboteur responded as he shuttered and powered down his optics “an' I know exactly where the little critters are, so we can pay them a visit.”
Prowl's sensory panels twitched at the thought of what the silver mech was suggesting, and decided to finish this conversation quickly “Recharge Jazz.” The black and white mech got no response from the mech and knew instantly that he had finally slipped into recharge. He shuffled himself further down on the berth and laid down upon his back muffling the ache that had started in his still healing spinal struts, then pulled Jazz close. The silver mech muttered something as he snuggled closer but quickly fell back into the deep recesses of recharge. The tactician stayed online just a little while longer, simply observing Jazz in his sleep before his own body demanded the rest it needed to heal, and he too headed into recharge.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ratchet made his way back to the med-bay with a pair of front-line warriors following in his footsteps. Both were quiet verbally but their bond was active with a conversation that ranged from different things, until Sunstreaker discovered that his twin had once again made a bet that would dictate their actions and behaviour for the next seven orns. The CMO glared at him when he heard the distinct sound of one of them clenching his fist in anger.
“You two start a fight and I will not repair anything you break, scratch or dent.” He told the pair of them, the twins glared at one another before turning their attention to the set of doors that would take them into the med-bay. Sideswipe especially wanted to see whether Prowl and Jazz had made up or were currently in the process of mangling each other. The red front-line warrior knew that there was a 50/50 chance of whether this situation was going to resolve itself especially now that Jazz's thought processes weren't being swayed by his brother's death, Sunstreaker had been a little bit bitter about making amends with the saboteur after what had happened but Sideswipe had managed to bring him around. They were hoping that if the saboteur was able to forgive the tactician then just may be there was hope for them, however there was no way of knowing until they stepped into the med-bay.
Ratchet palmed the keypad on the wall and the doors whooshed open to rather quiet reapir bay, he glanced around the room suspiciously at first until his optics fell upon two frames huddled up on a single berth; Jazz's berth to be exact. Prowl was lying upon his back, both arms wrapped around the saboteur's shoulders holding him close whilst the silver mech was snuggled into his side; the pair of them were deep in recharge. The CMO's expression softened when he saw them together and knew instantly that the pair had managed to settle things between them.
“Looks like you both owe me a cycle of inventory and cleaning duty.” The medic said as he glanced at them over his shoulder with a smirk, Sunstreaker instantly shot his brother a dark glare that promised some ounce of pain.
“You and you stupid slaggin' bets, you knew they would make up.” The gold front-liner snapped at his twin, Sideswipe cringed at the infliction in the tone of his brother's voice. He seriously needed to stop making bets with bots and subsequently losing them, but where was the fun in that if he didn't? After all it was only a cycle and he had the opportunity to wind Ratchet up as much as possible, well that was if he could survive the next orn as his brother was currently shooting him dark glares.
“You wanna dismantle him take it somewhere else.” The medic told the gold front-liner. Sunstreaker growled at the back of his throat and curled his other hand into a fist, Sideswipe grinned sheepishly at his brother before taking off with his brother hot on his heels.
Ratchet watched the pair of them leave before stepping into the med-bay, and just before the doors slid shut he heard the distinct sound of Ironhide hollering for the red front-liner's head to be brought to him on a pike. The medic shook his head and sighed, without a doubt he would see the red hellion in his med-bay in a couple of joors after the weapons specialist and the gold front-liner had finished handing him in his aft. With that thought in mind he decided to finish off what reports he had before the sanctity of his domain was disturbed. The chartreuse mech quickly checked his two patients over before heading into his office, he sat down in his chair and leant back as a small smile graced his lip components. At least now things might return to normal now that amends had been made between Prowl and Jazz.
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A/N: Jazz and Prowl refused to co-operate with me in this chapter (dam fraggers!) but I hoped it played out alright. There were two ways of ending this but I decided to allow Prowl and Jazz to settle their dispute as there is nothing worse than living day by day knowing someone hates you. Anyway A big thank you to those who have followed me through this multi-chapter, you all have been a few in a million especially with waiting for my to update this. And now I can concentrate on Renascentia, people probably wandering what's happening with that one. I may or may not consider an epilogue but who knows.
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