Fic: Finding the Reason
Title: Finding the Reason
Rating:PG
Words:1064
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet, Bluestreak, Optimus, Mirage, other random unnamed characters
Warnings: mild angst, fluff
Summary/Notes: Prowl has a one sided conversation on Christmas Eve…
The large mech walked slowly down the hall, the sounds of the party he was leaving behind following him. It was the same every year now, at this party held Christmas Eve. If he thought it he could get by with not showing up he would have skipped the whole ordeal.
He had tried it once, that first year. The result had been unpleasant for everyone involved. He had not cared to be drug from his office to the festivities, and the ones doing the dragging had been subject to his displeasure. The point had been made though, and after that he had taken care to put in a token appearance every year.
It just wasn’t the same though. The others tried, they really did. None of them were a match for Jazz and his party planning skills. So Prowl compromised. He went to the party, complimented those who had planned and executed it on another job well done, and moved on to the one that he really wanted to see this time of the year.
The door opened the same override code, like it did every time. And just like every time Prowl made his way across the room and settled in the chair that magically appeared there every year. Arranging his door wings for a long stay, Prowl took a moment to enjoy the silence before speaking to the rooms other occupant.
“They are getting better. I do have to give them that.” He smiled a little. “Don’t worry, they still are not a match for you. I am not sure I believe there will ever be a match for you among them, not when it comes to planning a good time.”
This was how it was every year. Jazz had been the one to show him joy again, that there was still hope and life worth living. He had made it a point every year at Christmas time to pull the tactician out of his comfort zone. It had gotten to the point that Prowl actually looked forward to seeing what Jazz had planned for the crew of the Ark, and for him.
For them.
Then that battle gone wrong. Where he had miscalculated. Never mind that he had almost no information to work with and there had been no time to find more. It had been all or nothing, and it had almost been nothing. So many hurt, so many injured to the point of stasis…
“You know Bluestreak woke up three days ago. Ratchet released him from medical late last night, so he could recharge before the party today. You are the last one.”
Some of the injuries had been so bad that Ratchet had warned of the chance that some of them would never come out of it again. Instead of healing and growing stronger their sparks would weaken, fade away and vanish from this world. There had been a few, in those initial months, that had returned to the Well of Sparks and be reborn some day.
The rest had come around, one by one, and rejoined the living. There had been joy, but there had been a lot of change as well. Many things had been rearranged to accommodate those gone, and those missing.
“Optimus promoted Mirage a couple months back. He has been acting as the head of special operations since you have been gone, and Prime finally decided to make it official. There was nothing I could do. He will never be you, but he is doing a good job.”
The indicator lights on the front of the stasis chamber monitoring the occupant blinked steadily, just like they always had every year Prowl had come here. They never changed, no matter what he said or did. Ratchet would shrug and say that no change was good change, since at least his spark was not growing weaker. It didn’t make the pain in Prowl’s own spark any easier to bear.
“It was hard this year, to find something to be thankful for like you always forced me to do when you where here. Remember? You would insist that still being here was something to be thankful for every day, so in the spirit of the season I had to find something else to be thankful for. And every year I would find an answer for you. I chose Bluestreaks’ release from stasis this season. I am sure you would approve.”
He had truly been thankful for the return of the gunner to their ranks. At the same time, it had been hard. He didn’t want to admit it, but watching Bluestreak interact with the others at the party had been too much. The congratulatory back slaps, the teasing laughter, the bright optics of the one who had been deprived of the object of their affection now returned to them- it had only served to remind Prowl of what he was still missing.
So he had left, fleeing the holiday atmosphere to a place where he could be alone and nurse his pain as he pleased. Only that never lasted for long once he got here and started talking. It was like the presence of the other mech reached out and filled the room, chasing away Prowl’s doubt and depression. Just like Jazz had always managed to do when they were together.
For a long time Prowl sat in the silence, allowing the feeling to wash over him and clear his processor. Finally he stood and stepped closer to the chamber, reaching out to touch it like he could touch the mech suspended within.
“I think I can face them now. I never could do it on my own, you know. Find the feelings that humans put with this holiday you convinced the rest of us to adopt. You had to show me where they were every time. You still do. And there is something I never told. I always found something else to be thankful for, every year. I just never told you- it was you.”
With that final confession Prowl left the room, prepared to face the others and finally share in the spirit of the season.
And in the spirit of the season, as the door slid closed behind the departing mech and the overhead lights grew dim once more, the indicator lights on the monitor glowed stronger and brighter than they had before…
Rating:PG
Words:1064
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet, Bluestreak, Optimus, Mirage, other random unnamed characters
Warnings: mild angst, fluff
Summary/Notes: Prowl has a one sided conversation on Christmas Eve…
The large mech walked slowly down the hall, the sounds of the party he was leaving behind following him. It was the same every year now, at this party held Christmas Eve. If he thought it he could get by with not showing up he would have skipped the whole ordeal.
He had tried it once, that first year. The result had been unpleasant for everyone involved. He had not cared to be drug from his office to the festivities, and the ones doing the dragging had been subject to his displeasure. The point had been made though, and after that he had taken care to put in a token appearance every year.
It just wasn’t the same though. The others tried, they really did. None of them were a match for Jazz and his party planning skills. So Prowl compromised. He went to the party, complimented those who had planned and executed it on another job well done, and moved on to the one that he really wanted to see this time of the year.
The door opened the same override code, like it did every time. And just like every time Prowl made his way across the room and settled in the chair that magically appeared there every year. Arranging his door wings for a long stay, Prowl took a moment to enjoy the silence before speaking to the rooms other occupant.
“They are getting better. I do have to give them that.” He smiled a little. “Don’t worry, they still are not a match for you. I am not sure I believe there will ever be a match for you among them, not when it comes to planning a good time.”
This was how it was every year. Jazz had been the one to show him joy again, that there was still hope and life worth living. He had made it a point every year at Christmas time to pull the tactician out of his comfort zone. It had gotten to the point that Prowl actually looked forward to seeing what Jazz had planned for the crew of the Ark, and for him.
For them.
Then that battle gone wrong. Where he had miscalculated. Never mind that he had almost no information to work with and there had been no time to find more. It had been all or nothing, and it had almost been nothing. So many hurt, so many injured to the point of stasis…
“You know Bluestreak woke up three days ago. Ratchet released him from medical late last night, so he could recharge before the party today. You are the last one.”
Some of the injuries had been so bad that Ratchet had warned of the chance that some of them would never come out of it again. Instead of healing and growing stronger their sparks would weaken, fade away and vanish from this world. There had been a few, in those initial months, that had returned to the Well of Sparks and be reborn some day.
The rest had come around, one by one, and rejoined the living. There had been joy, but there had been a lot of change as well. Many things had been rearranged to accommodate those gone, and those missing.
“Optimus promoted Mirage a couple months back. He has been acting as the head of special operations since you have been gone, and Prime finally decided to make it official. There was nothing I could do. He will never be you, but he is doing a good job.”
The indicator lights on the front of the stasis chamber monitoring the occupant blinked steadily, just like they always had every year Prowl had come here. They never changed, no matter what he said or did. Ratchet would shrug and say that no change was good change, since at least his spark was not growing weaker. It didn’t make the pain in Prowl’s own spark any easier to bear.
“It was hard this year, to find something to be thankful for like you always forced me to do when you where here. Remember? You would insist that still being here was something to be thankful for every day, so in the spirit of the season I had to find something else to be thankful for. And every year I would find an answer for you. I chose Bluestreaks’ release from stasis this season. I am sure you would approve.”
He had truly been thankful for the return of the gunner to their ranks. At the same time, it had been hard. He didn’t want to admit it, but watching Bluestreak interact with the others at the party had been too much. The congratulatory back slaps, the teasing laughter, the bright optics of the one who had been deprived of the object of their affection now returned to them- it had only served to remind Prowl of what he was still missing.
So he had left, fleeing the holiday atmosphere to a place where he could be alone and nurse his pain as he pleased. Only that never lasted for long once he got here and started talking. It was like the presence of the other mech reached out and filled the room, chasing away Prowl’s doubt and depression. Just like Jazz had always managed to do when they were together.
For a long time Prowl sat in the silence, allowing the feeling to wash over him and clear his processor. Finally he stood and stepped closer to the chamber, reaching out to touch it like he could touch the mech suspended within.
“I think I can face them now. I never could do it on my own, you know. Find the feelings that humans put with this holiday you convinced the rest of us to adopt. You had to show me where they were every time. You still do. And there is something I never told. I always found something else to be thankful for, every year. I just never told you- it was you.”
With that final confession Prowl left the room, prepared to face the others and finally share in the spirit of the season.
And in the spirit of the season, as the door slid closed behind the departing mech and the overhead lights grew dim once more, the indicator lights on the monitor glowed stronger and brighter than they had before…