Chapter Text
Prowl stood diploma in hand with the entire class clapping around him, but inside he felt so numb. He shook hands with the people who appeared before him, but none were the face he wanted to see. When he took his seat again it was only the actions of those around him that stopped him from falling into listless apathy. He forced himself to clap for the others, to smile and congratulate them after the ceremony, but when everyone left he remained standing alone in the auditorium feeling empty and lifeless.
He hadn't seen or heard from Jazz since that day.
"How well do you know that mech you were with?" The officer asked when they were settled inside his office. Prowl took a page from Jazz's book and shrugged lightly.
"We just met."
"You seemed close."
"Not really. He was charming. We started flirting. He didn't really talk about himself though. I'm guessing he's in some kind of trouble?"
"Could say that." The officer leaned forward watching him closely. Prowl tried not to flinch under that intense golden gaze. "So he didn't say much about himself? Nothing at all?"
"Um," Prowl pretended to search back through his memory while he wracked his processor for any conceivable lie. "He said his name was Chase. Student at the police academy. Couple classes below me. He complained that finals were hitting him hard. He just wanted to go out and have some fun." Prowl shrugged again. "That's all I got from him really. He seemed more interested in learning about me."
"I see. You're a student too, then?"
"Senior."
"Ah. That was close."
"Pardon?"
"Let me fill you in on a little information. That mech, his name's not Chase. It's Marshal. He usually wears a blue visor so be on the lookout for that. He was kicked out of the police academy and barred entry to the city of Praxus. If you see him again do not hesitate to inform the nearest station immediately. He does not have permission to be on this side of the wall." The officer laced his fingers together to make a cradle for his chin, but despite his relaxed posture his intense stare did not waver. "It would be bad for you to be seen with this mech again. You do not want to jeopardize your position so close to graduation day." Finally his optics flickered away, dropping to the file on his desk. "Prowl was it? I believe that's all I have to ask you right now. You may go."
Prowl sat heavily in one of the chairs as the weight of that day dragged him down. His head went into his hands and he vented slowly, trying to let his grief out in short bursts to contain it. It threatened to overwhelm him, to leave his sobbing and aching and lonely in this empty auditorium.
He'd always known that Jazz was hiding something. It just never seemed to matter enough for Prowl to demand answers. They'd never been in any real danger during all their sneaking around. There was just enough risk to make things exciting without actually causing him real fear. His nervousness over Jazz's secrets had faded away after their first few dates, and after that things had been nothing but reckless fun.
He should have asked Jazz about it before they tried going out in public together. If he had known what to expect he could have--could have--
Prowl made a sound of grief. No, he didn't know what he could have done. He still was trying to be a police-bot and Jazz was a wanted mech. It was doomed from the start. He should never have listened to the singing mech on the wall, because the moment he fell in love with him he was trapped. Now he couldn't imagine a life of happiness without Jazz. Maybe it was foolish infatuation talking, but he needed Jazz. He needed him to be there by his side. Prowl let out a strangled sob as his sorrow threatening to swallow him whole.
"Now that's just cruel. Who's gone an' hurt ya like this? Must be a real glitch."
"Jazz?" Prowl raised his head, wondering if he'd imagined his voice. He turned slowly, expecting to see an empty auditorium and all his dreams crushed, but there he was, gliding down the aisle like a dream. "Jazz!" Prowl struggled to his feet. He knocked his chair over in the process, but he paid it no mind. Jazz put a hushing finger to his lips, but underneath he wore a roguish grin.
"Shh. In case ya hadn't noticed I'm not exactly meant t'be here." Prowl struggled over his fallen chair and ran to him, and Jazz threw his arms wide and caught Prowl in his embrace. "I know, I know. I was an aft makin' ya worry like that. I'm sorry." And he held Prowl as his restraint crumbled and he descended into sobs.
"Thought I'd lost you," he mumbled into Jazz's chest between choked vents. "Thought I'd never see you again."
"I'd never be able t'forgive myself if that happened," Jazz replied. "I love ya too much t'break your spark like that." And he stroked Prowl's helm to bring him down.
"How did you get away?" Prowl asked when he finally had calmed enough to draw away from Jazz. "What happened? How--"
"I'll explain everythin' love. I promise. Just not here. I'm, uh, really not allowed t'be here." He glanced over his shoulder, suddenly paranoid. "Meet up again later, like usual?" Prowl nodded, and they exchanged hurried whispers between them, and then hurried kisses before they parted ways.
They ended up meeting in a forgotten park in the less wealthy part of town. There'd been an outdoor theatre here once, the half-shell that covered the stage still standing. The park was poorly maintained by Praxian standards, the paint flaking away on the old park benches and the fountain long dry. It was still clean--all of Praxus was--but it was also empty and sad. Prowl arrived first, glad they didn't have any of their dates here. It was far too desolate for even Jazz's bright spark to light it.
Or so he thought, for as soon as Jazz got there he began to hop excitedly from one foot to the other.
"This is great! I've never been here before. How didja find it? Look, there's even a stage!"
"Jazz..."
"No, I know, I haven't forgotten. C'mon, let's go sit up on the stage." Jazz took Prowl by the hand and led him over, pulling him up on the rise and then looking out over the benches lined before them. Prowl felt twitchy even though the benches were empty, as though there were rows of invisible watchers silently judging him. Jazz loved it though. He beamed out across the desolate park like he was standing in front of a room full of people all cheering for him.
"I love stages," he started, and Prowl thought for a moment that he was changing the subject again, but then Jazz continued. "Ever since I was first sparked I knew I wanted to stand up an' entertain people. The first time I heard a laugh, the first time I heard a cheer, I knew I wanted to be responsible for that." Jazz sighed wistfully and fished around in his subspace. He drew out a nice-looking bottle which he uncorked and took a long swig from. Once satisfied, he continued. "I didn't have much choice in the matter though. I was made-to-order, sparked to be a police-bot just like you. The difference was that I wasn't happy like that." Jazz smiled ruefully as he took another sip. "Ya do well in the role Prowl. But it wasn't for me. I rebelled every step of the way. I skipped classes, I avoided my homework, an' I was always runnin' off. I came down to the river and that's when I first heard it. Music."
"I was captivated. I needed to hear more. Well, y'can guess where this is goin'. In this functionist society I was an MTO who didn't want to do what I was built for. Things went bad. I got kicked outta the academy, then I got kicked outta Praxus. Bet ya didn't know that could happen, huh? I sure didn't, until it did." Prowl stared, optics wide. "That's the thing about this place. Notice how clean it all is? Even down here in the poor districts? It's 'cause they sweep all the icky bits out. Unemployment doesn't happen here. It's against the law to be unemployed in Praxus."
"I-I did know that actually," Prowl confessed. "It's the law I got in trouble for speaking out against." Jazz stared at him a long moment, and then he whispered urgently.
"Prowl, I would take ya right here on this stage, right now."
"Jazz!" His wings perked up in shock, and he just knew he was blushing again. Somehow Jazz could always manage it. Always.
"I know, I know. Place is too public. But I would." He flopped down, letting his feet dangle off the edge of the stage. He sipped from his bottle slowly and thoughtfully as he finished his story.
"Anyway, that's the gist of things. Kicked out 'cause no one would hire an academy reject. They marked up my ID to let the world know I was outcast from Praxus. I figured I wouldn't be able to make it anywhere after that." He sighed and took a long swig, memories flooding back. "Thankfully the world outside is a bit more forgivin' than I thought. I did a bit of work here, a bit of work there, and sang to myself to make it all better. Guess I got pretty good at that, because some old mech invited me to sing at his bar one night. That's what I do now. It's not glamorous exactly, but I get by singin' pretty little words where I can, an' I enjoy it too. Lot happier than if I'd just gone along with what everyone else wanted of me." He smiled over at Prowl when he settled next to him and passed the bottle over. Prowl sniffed it. It was engex, and quite strong, but as he took a sip he found the taste surprisingly pleasant and began to drink earnestly.
“Never did stop missin' Praxus though, even though Praxus stopped carin' about me. I used to sneak over the wall just to look at it, y'know? An' when I felt bold enough I started sneakin' around the city at night too. Got pretty good at it, an' got pretty good at givin' the cops the slip. Honestly, avoidin' that police-bot the other night wasn't all that difficult. She was fast, yeah, but I know all the little hidey holes. I learned all that durin' my reckless youth. Not that I ever stopped bein' a reckless youth.” He chuckled a little, but there was a thread of pain underneath. Prowl wordlessly handed the bottle back and Jazz took another swig.
"So anyway, where do we go from here? Y'know the whole story now. You're all graduated--congratulations on that, by the way. It's something I couldn't do." He tipped the bottle at Prowl as though to toast him and then took a long drink. "Yeah, so you're all graduated an' I'm just an outcast busking for change between gigs. I can keep sneakin' in here t'see you--an' believe me I want to--but one day I'm gonna get caught." Prowl snorted suddenly and snatched the bottle away from him. Jazz stared at him in surprise.
"You've had too much of this if you can't even see the obvious solution here." Prowl took a drink of it to keep it out of Jazz's grabbing hands. "It's quite simple. You cannot enter Praxus without disobeying the law, but I have no such restrictions. I am free to go where I please, freshly graduated and in need of a job. All I have to do is seek one outside of Praxus and we will be fine.”
"But Prowl--" Jazz ceased trying to playfully steal the bottle back for a moment, turning serious. "Look, I get what you're sayin' an' all, but why would ya wanna leave Praxus? It's not exactly the easiest place to get back into once you're out, believe me. Ya really sure y'wanna do that? Praxus is your home."
"Jazz," Prowl drained the rest of the bottle to keep it away from him and then set it down between them. "You've made a lot of sacrifices for me so far. Every time we met you ran the risk of arrest. And!" He held his hand up to stop Jazz as he started to protest. "I know I risked my career too, but that's not the same thing. I didn't have to walk the streets afraid to even be seen. You've done all of this for me and asked for nothing in return. Well it's time for me to start giving back. Jazz, if you would have me, I would go outside the city walls and try to start a life with you. What do you say?" Jazz's seriousness melted away like frost as a warm smile rose over his features.
"Now that's somethin' I can drink to," he said, reaching for the abandoned bottle. "Prowl, I would have you by my side every day when I wake up. I would have you through the good times an' the bad. I would hold you forever, an' never let go. Here's to us. Here's to starting a life together!" He raised the bottle above his head to toast the very universe for bringing them together, but then he stopped and blinked up at the bottle in confusion. "Wait a moment. There's none left!"
"That's because you drank it all," Prowl said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.
"You drank at least half of it! That--that was really expensive engex. Really strong too." Jazz paused, thinking hard. "I reckon we're a bit tipsy, then."
"Why did you even have engex on you in the first place?" Prowl asked, baffled.
"Er, well, I was going to toast your graduation with it, but I kinda needed a drink when I was talkin' about my past and stuff. Not my favourite subject." Jazz looked sheepish. "Kinda got carried away I guess? Wow, the whole bottle. We really went through that thing."
"I don't think we're safe to drive."
"Mm, probably not." Jazz flopped back, staring up thoughtfully at the shell over the stage for a moment. Then he said, "Hey Prowl, what kinda drunk are ya?"
"I don't know. I've never been overcharged before." Jazz wiggled gleefully.
"Hey, what if you're a singin' drunk? Ooh, or a dancin' drunk?"
"I don't think so."
"Aw, please? Y'always were too shy to do it before. I wanna hear ya belt it out! C'mon, we're drunk! What's the point if we don't get up to stupid things?" Prowl sighed, helpless in the face of Jazz's impossible logic.
"Fine, but I only know one song."
"Ooh, I wanna hear it! Sing me Prowl's one song!" So Prowl took a deep vent and began.
"The crystals glow blue upon midnight,
Away from the watchers in daylight.
I'll meet you down there later tonight,
And kiss you there under the moonlight."
Jazz was quiet for the first verse, for once in his life robbed of the words to say. He opened his mouth but all that came out was a sound too fragile to survive. Slowly he allowed himself to join in on the next line. Prowl lay down next to him and their fingers laced alongside their voices, as together they sang the one song--the only song--that they both knew by heart.
"Bright optics look at me unblinking,
Within them I find myself sinking,
I wish I could glean what you're thinking.
Are they my words you're silently drinking?"
The rest of the words became a bit muffled, as a drunken Jazz tried to kiss him, laugh, cry, and sing all at the same time.