Title: „Lasting Patchjob"
Status: Part 2 out of 8 (WIP)
Fandom: Transformers; Bayverse (with some G1 elements/charas)
Characters/Pairing: eventual Sideswipe/Prowl; Sideswipe, Prowl, Ironhide, Jazz, BluestreakWord Count: 1617
Disclaimer: I would love to own Transformers, but that honor belongs to Hasbro and some others. But I own an action figure of TFA Prowl and Jazz. And one of Kup! Hah, take that!
Rating: PG-13/T
Beta: The great snare-chan, of course! Thank you so much for your help with grammar and your overall amazing feedback! *hugs*
Summary: Times moves on and everyone has to change, for better or worse...
Warning/Genre/AN: eventual slash (non-sticky), tragic/drama, action, friendship/romance, bits of humor. Please R& R ^v^ Constructive criticism, suggestions, comments, – all that is most welcome! Flames will feed my barbecue, what else?
Note: Next part will be up within a month, hopefully. And yes, again, there will be more parts than originally planned, because my muse busted the original outline LOL
Lasting Patchjob - Part IISideswipe's blade sliced the heavy armor plate in two. He appeared satisfied to see the golden sheen of a spark chamber appear.
The Decepticon thrashed around to dislodge him, but he shifted his weight to rest on a weak construction point. The flow of energon was cut off instantly and the resistance waned to a useless growl.
"Sideswipe!"
Ironhide increased his pace, weaving around the debris of the outpost as fast as he could. But the new parts in his hip joint still felt raw and ground together, slowing him down.
"SIDESWIPE!"
He could only watch as Sideswipe's blade pierced into the Cons spark chamber. Light spilled forth from the breach before it dissolved. Crimson optics flickered one last time in the darkness and then gray spread over the blue frame.
Sideswipe's grin was as feral as Sunstreaker's had ever been. The younger mech was practically covered in the energon of the Cons he had offlined: it dripped from the blade's point to create a glowing puddle.
They could lose the kid if this was allowed to continue...
Slag it! Ironhide would at least try to pound some sense into him!
"I'm talking with you, soldier! You were ordered to cover for Unit 2, not to go off and chase after the retreating Cons!"
Sideswipe stood slowly. A flick of his wrist had the blade retracting into its hidden sheath, which was integrated into his arm. He stepped over the empty shell and didn't bother to stand at attention as he reached his former mentor.
Ironhide waited a moment, observing the clenching fists and trying to read his blank stare. Sideswipe seemed barely able to hold himself in check.
"Is this your decision? To take as many Cons down as you can before you kick the bucket? Letting your comrades pay when you vanish on them, to hunt on your reckless energon feud? You wouldn't even be standing here now had Bluestreak not gotten that lucky shot in!"
For a moment it looked as if Sideswipe would protest – instead, his mouth plate snapped shut again and he avoided Ironhide's gaze.
A good sign, all things considered. He was not yet too far gone, nor ignorant to the consequences of his actions. He could still be reached. Now they just needed to find a 'bot Sideswipe would be willing to listen to.
Great – that made it a walk in the crystal gardens...
Judging by Sideswipe's barely hidden scowl, Ironhide wouldn't be that 'bot.
"I taught you better than that!" Ironhide's canons flared up in his frustration, before he got himself back under control. Calm, he added, "Sunstreaker would not want for you to throw your spark away like that."
"How would you know what Sunny would have wanted?"
Ironhide met Sideswipe's icy glare without so much as a flinch. Rather than threatened by the aggressive stance, he suddenly felt the weight of his own armor.
"The real question is: why don't you know?"
Sideswipe flinched back as if slapped. His snarling faceplate smoothed out and his stance shifted to a perfect parade salute.
... that went well. Way to go, Ironhide.
He vented a sigh, which stirred the silver dust around his pedes, and decided to change the subject. "This, soldier, is the third time I have to write you up for insubordination. And I'm going to spare Prowl the trouble and throw you in the brig myself, as soon as we're back from patrol. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. – Dismissed."
XXX
Bluestreak felt his doorwings flutter with excess impulses, but couldn't stop them. He watched from a distance as Sideswipe slowly walked away from Ironhide, with the air of an acid charged thundercloud.
He hated this – for all the words crowding up in his vocalizer, not a single one came out right. Sideswipe would either snarl or simply ignore Bluestreak, just like he did everyone else.
Bluestreak missed Sunny, too. But this silence and breakneck aggression would get Sideswipe offlined one cycle, he just knew it.
He was worried. Slag, so was Prowl. To a fellow Praxian, the SIC's doorwings were like a huge neon sign broadcasting his concern, even if the other Autobots were fooled by their rigid posture. Not that Bluestreak was surprised that Prowl felt that way, quite the opposite, in fact. But it made him want to help even harder – and he learned to hate this feeling of helplessness.
But he had to try. Sideswipe was his friend.
"Hey, Sideswipe!" Bluestreak called. He shouldered his sniper rifle, the weight by now easy and familiar, and jogged over. "I... we... uhm." He floundered as that blank stare met his own.
"What?"
"L-let's grab our rations together, alright? You worry me, I mean, all of us, really. You know, always keeping your distance, and I thin-"
"No."
The flat tone made Bluestreak flinch. "But-"
"I said 'no'." Sideswipe stalked away; whole frame rigid. Mechs and femmes alike seemed to shrink away from him.
Bluestreak had a sinking feeling in his spark.
XXX
Prowl sat at his desk, staring at the painting on the opposite wall. It showed the heart of Praxus' Crystal Garden in astonishing detail. He knew it well by now – the individual brush strokes, the perfect shapes and arrangement, the iridescent colors of reflected light. An amazing piece of art, especially when one considered that it had been solely based on holo-vid files.
Sunstreaker had presented it to Prowl, only a decacycle after the fall of Praxus. Sideswipe had been concerned that the gesture might be ill-received, but Prowl had understood and appreciated the underlying sentiment...
"Doesn't it remind you constantly? I warned Sunny, but..."
"It does – but I am fond of this painting, Sideswipe. You honor the past by embracing the memories but even more so by moving on with your life."
"...I don't get it."
"For now, you don't need to, Youngling."
"Ugh – don't call me that!"
Prowl closed that particular memory file. So much had changed since then – especially for Sideswipe, a vorn after Sunstreaker's deactivation.
The perceivable change in his behavior and attitude, although calculated with a 78% probability, worried Prowl, a fact he saw no logical reason to deny.
His gaze dropped to the small collection of datapads in front of him and his doorwings drooped. Every single one contained reports detailing Sideswipe's conduct while on duty and employed in the field. And the majority was yellow-flagged for insubordination...
Prowl vented a sigh and began to deactivated the 'pads, stacking them up and arranging by date, for later filing. He proceeded automatically to the next stack, only to find that particular spot empty.
Prowl's logic center struggled to keep up with his reaction to the missing complaints. Because he found himself in the peculiar situation of missing the reports on pranks, which had wrecked havoc on unsuspecting 'bots. The same held true for the cheeky backtalk and careless laughter his subsequent lectures had elicited more often than not.
As much as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had disturbed his cherished routine, ever since they had joined Iacon's forces, and increased his workload, Prowl was not ignorant to one fact: the twins antics had often brightened the dreary atmosphere amongst their fellow Autobots...
The door's acoustic signal interrupted Prowl's train of thought. He straightened, uncomfortable with his lapse of concentration, which should have been focused on tomorrow's duty rooster.
Jazz strode in without waiting for an answer. "Heya, Prowler," he greeted and dumped a datapad in front of the rigid tactician. "Remember not to shoot the messenger."
Prowl did not bother to pick up the device to peruse the content, nor did he try to suppress the twitch of his sensor panels or shift in posture. The former was unnecessary by deduction and the latter a wasted effort, since his friend was too observant to be fooled.
"Sideswipe again?"
XXX
"Yeah." Jazz leaned against Prowl's desk with the silent scrape of metal on metal, mindful of the neat stacks. "He went off after the Cons although Ironhide had issued the signal to cease pursuit. He refused to give me his statement, so the honor is all yours."
"I see."
Jazz studied Prowl through the cover of his visor, noting all the tell-tale signs with the ease of long acquaintance. "Mech, you really take this hard, huh? Well, guess that's no surprise since you raised the little slagger."
Prowl frowned. "Jazz, if you phrase it like that, it might lead to misperceptions. I only had custody over the twins for half a vorn, and solely due to necessity in the aftermath of the Enforcer raid."
"Right. But seeing how you cover for our favorite problem sparkling, you must have taken a special shine to him," Jazz insisted, wanting to test a theory. It was normal for Prowl to care for those under his command, although he went about it in a stealthy style. But in Sideswipe's case, he seemed... personally invested. Jazz had no problem with providing backup for his friend, but by now, he was kinda intrigued.
"I admit to have become... fond of him. But my efforts in regards to Sideswipe do not justify the level of attachment you seem to imply."
Sensing Prowl's tightly controlled discomfort over the topic, Jazz backed off, quite satisfied with his gathered Intel. "There's nothing wrong with that, of course. With Sunny gone, Sideswipe needs someone to watch his back – not that the proud glitch will appreciate it in his current state of processor."
"I have to agree with that assessment." Prowl stood, gears whirring loudly after having sat so long. "If you will excuse me, I will now go and get his statement."
Jazz followed him out of the office. "Good luck with that."
tbc...
AN: R&R! Your opinion counts ^-^
5