Chapter Text
Jazz had left Mirage’s apartment before the other mech had awoken. He felt guilty. It was a stupid kind of guilt because he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. Spending the dark cycle with Mirage had been merely a distraction, an enjoyable distraction but a needless one nonetheless. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Prowl, from wishing it was Prowl beneath him, moaning his name. The more he thought about it the more guilty he felt. He wasn’t just attracted to Prowl, he wanted him near, admired his strength, determination and even his near aft-headed stubbornness. Jazz wanted all of Prowl and he wasn’t sure when his feelings for the mech had become so pronounced. He wasn’t going to force the issue if Prowl wasn’t interested but it didn’t stop him from hoping. However, while time had passed for him, for Prowl it would feel like no time had passed at all. To Prowl, Jazz would still be his patient and he would still see him as such. Well until he got used to the idea of him not being at least. Jazz hoped.
When he’d received the comm. call from First Aid, his spark had practically leapt out of his chest but then upon realising where he was and who was wrapped around him, recharging peacefully, the guilt had come rushing back. It was normal on Cybertron to indulge one’s desires this way. That was why Prowl had the job he did. Jazz couldn’t help but wonder if Prowl ever indulged. The twins had hinted as much but they had also been extremely tactful out of respect for Prowl’s privacy. It only served to remind Jazz how little he knew about Prowl now. He wanted that to change.
He stopped outside the hospital building and looked up. His spark pulsed hard in his chest. Prowl was on the verge of waking up, his readouts had all indicated it. Jazz couldn’t explain his nervousness, he wanted to see Prowl, to hear him speak once again but it caused his spark to flip flop in its casing. “Get a hold of yourself, mech,” he chided himself with mild irritation. “You’re acting like a youngling,” the words reminded him of Prowl and he almost heard them in Prowl’s voice. That made him smile as he stepped into the hospital.
Arriving at Prowl’s room, he found Optimus, the twins, Soundwave and Hook waiting outside, he gave them a subtle nod before ducking into the room. Bluestreak, Smokescreen and First Aid were already inside. First Aid’s visor brightened when Jazz arrived and he turned back to the monitors.
“He should be onlining soon,” he stated cheerfully.
“Will he be alright?” Bluestreak asked with concern. “I mean will his spark be alright?”
First Aid nodded. “He will need to have regular spark check ups for a couple of vorns and he’ll feel weak for a while but his spark is strong. Most of the damage has been healed, there’ll be some scarring but that too in time will fade. He may get residual pain from time to time, especially if he gets stressed so I’m relying on all of you to make sure he keeps to his reduced schedule and actually relaxes,” the medic looked at each one of them pointedly. “No matter how much he protests.”
“I… protest…?”
All optics stared at the prone mech on the berth and nobody spoke for a long few kliks.
“You all look like… you’ve seen a ghost….” the voice rasped, cracking from under use.
First Aid chuckled and double checked the monitors before he adjusted the berth so Prowl could sit up a little better. “We almost were, you gave us quite a scare.”
“If you pull anything like this again, I swear I’m going to kick your aft,” Bluestreak held Prowl’s hand tightly, his doorwings fluttering with unspoken emotion.
“Yeah, I’m with Blue’ on this one,” Smokescreen grinned. “Once is bad enough, twice you’re just looking for attention.”
Prowl let out a hoarse laugh, his intakes catching, causing him to splutter a little. He graciously accepted the offered medical grade energon from First Aid and sipped it slowly. “Your affections are spark warming,” he smiled weakly. “How long was I out?”
“Too long, mech,” Jazz finally spoke up, standing awkwardly at the foot of the berth. He gave Prowl a small smile his visor glowing softly at him.
Meeting Jazz’s gaze, Prowl didn’t say anything straight away and simply held his gaze. “What have I missed?” he asked quietly.
Jazz just watched, as Bluestreak, Smokescreen and First Aid filled Prowl in on what had transpired since his attack. He smiled to himself when he caught Prowl’s optics furtively glancing in his direction more often than not and always flashed the mech a warm smile when Prowl realised he’d been caught looking at him. Jazz could feel there was an unspoken tension between them, things that needed saying but now was not the time, not with Prowl’s multitudes of visitors milling outside of his room. Jazz felt his spark ease somewhat and he backed away towards the door discreetly. He caught Prowl’s gaze one last time and nodded at the mech with an apologetic smile. There would be a time for them, Jazz silently vowed it but right now, Prowl needed his time to recover and process everything that had happened, without Jazz hovering around complicating matters.
Prowl watched Jazz leave and returned his smile as the mech silently slipped out of his room. Jazz wasn’t a mech for crowds anymore and Prowl understood that. He also knew that Jazz would be back, he had seen it on the mech’s faceplates, in the promise of his smile and softly glowing visor. Prowl felt his spark flutter. He hoped he wouldn’t wait too long. Having narrowly missed out on joining Primus in the well twice now, Prowl had secretly decided - upon seeing Jazz’s face first - when he’d woken up, that he had waited long enough.
****
“I would recommend against visiting him with all due respect,” the orange mech frowned slightly behind his glasses and canted his helm at his guest. “What do you think you can achieve by it?” he asked gently.
Prowl shook his helm and frowned. “I just thought maybe I could talk to him, perhaps it would help to know….”
Rung stepped closer when Prowl trailed off. “Know what? That you’re alive? That may only serve to deepen his psychosis, knowing that the one thing he believed he had control over, he has in fact, failed at completing.”
Looking up at his fellow psychologist, Prowl’s face pinched with troubled concern. He deflated when Ultra Magnus placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I think Rung is correct,” Ultra Magnus declared steadily. “Red Alert’s grasp of reality has become questionable at best. Knowing that you’re alive could make him more of a threat to himself and to you.”
Doorwings rising sharply on his back before drooping slightly, Prowl vented a sigh. It had been several stellar cycles since he had finally been released from hospital. He was still only working on a part time basis however. He had hoped that in his down time, he’d be able to see Red Alert, having learnt what had happened after the court room. The reasons behind Red Alert’s actions had also been explained to him but he had struggled to come to terms with them. A mech had held affection for him from back when they had served together during the war and Prowl hadn’t even noticed. It was fairly typical of his past self though, but it didn’t stop the guilt from welling up in his spark.
“Are you certain nothing can be done?” he finally asked, defeat in his tone.
Rung’s optics dimmed slightly and he adjusted his lenses. “Red Alert’s neuro-pathways and connections between his memory core and his emotional centre have become corrupted, damaging his base coding. Even a complete defragmentation would result in anomalies that could have serious consequences for him. As it is, he has a reasonably comfortable life here, in this secure facility and this is where he will spend the rest of his life,” the mech sighed softly. “He will be rehabilitated to a degree but a break as severe as his, has been a long time building and the signs went unchecked for too long. Most of the damage is, I’m afraid, permanent.”
Nodding, Prowl pushed up from his seat. “It was always Ratchet that had kept an optic on him back on the Ark, I guess after the war, he just…”
“Fell through the cracks,” Rung finished sadly. “Prowl, you cannot save them all.”
Giving Rung a thin, sad smile, Prowl nodded and headed for the door. “Thank you for your time, Dr.”
Ultra Magnus politely nodded to Rung and followed Prowl out. “I am sorry the outcome was not what you desired.”
Prowl glanced up at the taller mech. “I had hoped. I am glad that he is at least well taken care of and in a safe place.”
Nodding with agreement, Ultra Magnus stepped onto the elevator with Prowl. “What will you do now?”
“I had hoped to return to my life as simple as it was, I was starting to enjoy it,” Prowl smiled wryly. “Smokescreen is insisting that I still require recuperation.”
Ultra Magnus hummed deeply. “I believe he said there’s no such thing as too much.”
“He would,” Prowl huffed with an amused smirk.
Both mechs stepped off the elevator and Ultra Magnus turned to the smaller mech with a subtle smile. “I am satisfied with the outcome of this investigation. I hope we meet again, under better circumstances.”
Prowl bowed his helm graciously with a smile of his own. “Thank you for everything you have done, Magnus. I am truly grateful. Please comm. me if there’s anything I can help you with in the future.”
“I shall bear it in mind.”
With that, Ultra Magnus marched onto the street and headed to his transport shuttle. Prowl watched him leave before, leaning on his cane and starting his slow walk to the public transport. The cane was more for First Aid’s and Smokescreen’s peace of mind, it aided his walking so he wasn’t exerting himself too much and contained a small device that First Aid had fashioned, built for the purpose of jump starting a spark should the unfortunate need ever arise. Prowl however, had been surprisingly pliant as a patient and more than agreeable as an outpatient. He had made a special effort not to exert himself until his spark had fully healed. It was more or less there now but the cane helped to stave off any nagging he would otherwise be subjected to.
The transport to Praxus was short, thankfully. Prowl had plans to sit in his favourite cafe and read his bookfile for a while, before catching up on some patient notes. He was honestly enjoying the free time to relax. It felt like he hadn’t in many vorns. It had been difficult at first, he had felt compelled to be always doing something but he had gradually warmed to the idea and now wasn’t certain he would ever work full time again. He smiled to himself with amusement, he was even making internal jokes now.
The femme at the counter waved at him cheerfully when he entered and set about preparing his usual order. Prowl settled into his favourite booth, bathed in the light of the Cybertronian sun and pulled out his bookfile. He read for a little while, taking a sip of his warm drink, when a shadow fell over his table.
“This seat taken?”
Looking up, Prowl smiled and put down the datapad, gesturing to the seat opposite. “It is now.”
Sliding into the seat, Jazz gave him a lop-sided grin. “Reading something good? Not work related I hope?”
“Actually no, for a change, it is a thriller crime novel.”
“Would have figured you’d be done with thrills and crimes for one lifetime,” Jazz chuckled softly. “But you never did know when to switch off.”
“I have,” Prowl smiled demurely. “When the occasion calls for it.”
Jazz ducked his helm with a laugh. “It’s been awhile, sorry I haven’t called.”
“It’s alright, completing one’s therapy is a cause for getting out and seeing the world and reminding yourself why you’re alive. Did you enjoy your time, travelling?”
“Yeah, Cybetron is looking pretty nice right now. I had forgotten what a lot of it had looked like without fighting. Gave me a lot of time to think while I was enjoying the sights too.”
“Oh? Any revelations?” Prowl asked curiously.
“Some,” Jazz responded simply.
They fell into amicable silence for a few kliks, before both of them tried to talk at once. “Apologies, please,” Prowl insisted.
Jazz pulled out a box and placed it on the table. “I thought, since I’ve been therapy free for quite some time now and after half a vorn without me annoying you every other cycle, you can’t still consider me a patient.”
“Jazz, I have always considered you a friend, even if I don’t remember that I have,” Prowl replied, dead-pan.
Snickering, Jazz lightly swatted Prowl’s arm. “Anyway, given that fact, I thought maybe… you know….?” he opened the box to reveal a deep cerulean crystal.
Prowl gazed at it, recognition stirring in the back of his processor, just as it had done the first time Jazz had shown it to him. A familiarity that he couldn’t remember and yet knew existed.
“We could see how things go?” Jazz asked hesitantly. “I know it’s sorta out of the blue after half a vorn but--”
“--Alright.”
Cut off, Jazz’s visor flickered and brightened. “Really?”
“I would like the chance to explore the possibilities, yes.”
“That’s such a Prowl answer,” Jazz laughed.
“Did you expect anything less?”
“Never.”
Prowl subspaced his datapad and stood, picking up his cane. “I was planning on taking a walk through the new Crystal Gardens if you would join me?”
A bright smile spread across Jazz’s face. “Would love to,” he followed Prowl out of the cafe and stopped when Prowl turned to face him. “What? You forget something?”
“Yes, there’s something I needed to do,” Prowl declared awkwardly.
Jazz tried to hide his disappoint and looked down at the floor. “Well another time the-- I wha?” he caught himself when Prowl lifted his helm with a finger beneath his chin.
“Something I wanted to reply to,” Prowl continued softly.
Jazz’s intakes hitched and skipped as Prowl’s lips shyly brushed against his own, before pressing into his with a chaste kiss, that sent tingles racing through his sensor net. When the kiss broke, both mechs simply smiled at each other and started walking towards the gardens. After a few kliks, Jazz slipped his hand into Prowl’s and intertwined their fingers as though they had always belonged there.
“I heard you made a lot of positive progress in your therapy,” Prowl commented casually as they walked.
Jazz laughed and squeezed his hand. “Do you ever switch off, mech, you know and not think about work?”
Smiling warmly as he gave Jazz a sidelong glance, Prowl’s doorwings fluttered. “I am starting to… now I have a reason.”