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Better Halves	By : sefiru Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Crossovers Views: 8853 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers and make no money on this.

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Better Halves
A Transformers fan fiction
By Sefiru
Summary: (G1, TFA) a space bridge experiment ends up connecting to an unexpected place.
Disclaimer: I don't own it and I make no money. Ba weep gra na weep nini bong.
Pairing(s): Optimus Prime/Prowl, Optimus Prime/Prowl
Warnings: NC-17, stickyfic , cross-continuity, language, violence
Thank you, reviewers!
StSE : eh, this is closer to how I prefer to write; my other TF fics were kind of random plot bunnies.
Admiral ShadowWolf : TFA is the current cartoon series, G1 is the original cartoon from the 80s. Both are on YouTube ^^. I'm glad you came to read even though you don't know the source material.
shozurei : oh, yes, much more to come.
Supermoi : you know comments like that tempt me to write cliffhangers …
In this chapter: Character development yay .
***
Chapter 2: His Name Is My Name Too
***
He hadn't expected the Autobot ship to be a counterpart, too, though it made sense when he thought about it. If he and Optimus had alternate versions, why not Omega Supreme? He had the same rounded nose and broad stern, although this one was twice the other one's size. His resting place on a mountainside made him visible for quite some distance to the approaching bots – and vice versa, as it turned out. The watch crew, as well as a few off-duty bots, were waiting at the ramp for their arrival.
"Who's this?" asked a red-and-silver bot, his shoulder cannon cocked suspiciously in Prowl's direction.
"He's an alternate version of me," Car-Prowl announced. "And no, I don't expect you to take my word for it, Red Alert. Get Ratchet, Perceptor and Wheeljack out here."
So, he was going to be a scientific specimen. Not his preferred pastime, but under the circumstances it was a wise precaution. His counterpart gave a brief report on the warp rift and their meeting; Prowl stood silently and observed. The overall design of these bots was blocky, overbuilt; aimed more towards ruggedness and stopping power than fuel efficiency. Most of them had hard-mounted weapons of some kind. Warriors, from the frame out, every last one. How long had their Great War dragged on? Had all of the Autobots reformatted? Or had frailer bots simply not survived?
While these dark thoughts chased each other through Prowl's processor, the local Autobots were studying him in turn. "Not bad," a car-sized red bot said. "Built for speed, eh?"
"Sure, 'Sides," replied an identical, yellow-painted bot, "But does he know how to use it?" A can of body paint flew at Prowl's head, accompanied by annoyed shouts of "Sunny!" It reminded him of some of Master Yoketron's tests. He skimmed aside and caught the can; leaping up, he set it on the yellow bot's helmet and dropped back to his starting place. 'Sunny' looked around wildly for the paint can, which fell off his head with a resounding clatter. There was a round of laughter at the yellow bot's startled expression. "What are you, a ninjabot ?"
"Yes." Prowl felt a surge of surprise from his counterpart through the spark link, followed by … regret? He guessed that car-Prowl had wanted to become a cyberninja , but the war had forced him into serving in other ways. Strange, that war had led Prowl into becoming a ninja.
"You don't strike me as a fighter," Red Alert said.
"I'm not." Or at least he'd rather not; recently he'd had little choice. "Our version of the Great War ended before I finished training."
"A warchild ," Prime commented. Prowl nearly jumped out of his plating; he'd forgotten that the Autobot commander was standing right behind him, watching the conversation – ready to step in if needed, but trusting his crew's good sense. "Where were you built?"
"Tyger Pax ." A rustle went through the other bots at the name – what? Oh. The Battle of Tyger Pax must have happened here as well. He had his own share of bad memories of the event; reversing course as soon as the news reached him, rushing back to Cybertron, picking his way through the rubble and twisted wreckage … "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it." This was a yellow bot about Prowl's own height, which made him positively tiny by local standards. "A bunch of us were at the battle; I took a hit to the vocal processor, and I lost my best friend."
There was something about that voice … Short. Yellow. "You're … Bumblebee?"
"That's me!"
"And your friend – Bulkhead?" Bee's startled nod was all the answer he needed. Master Yoketron had died in front of him and that was bad enough, but the thought of shy, good-natured Bulkhead lying shattered on the battlefield was like a dagger through his spark. Car-Prowl laid a servo on his shoulder.
"You know our counterparts?" Bumblebee asked.
"Teammates," Prowl said roughly. There was a pause.
"From the sound of things," Prime said, "Your war has been over for some time. What does Tyger Pax look like today?"
In answer, Prowl uploaded a set of images into the ship's shared dataspace . The rebuilt Tyger Pax was a glittering metropolis plated in bronze, with soaring towers and sweeping elevated roads. The dojo wasn't there anymore; the remaining protoforms had been moved to Elite Guard headquarters in Iacon , and the cyberninja facility followed them. Prowl hadn't been back except in passing. He heard impressed murmurs as the other bots accessed the files; he guessed they hadn't seen architecture with such an airy disregard for practicality in quite some time. And they were as interested in the date stamps as in the actual images. A black-and-white bot who could only be Jazz summed it up: "Pax Cybertronia , huh? I can dig it."
***
Prowl walked up to the table where Trailbreaker and Hound sat sipping energon , one servo held carefully behind his back. The science-bots had determined that he wasn't going to explode or disintegrate or anything equally improbable, given him a download of the crew roster so he no longer had to guess at names, and released him to socialize with the other bots. Some of whom had immediately pulled out the oldest trick in the archive; hence, his current errand.
"Hey, Young Prowl," Trailbreaker greeted him. "Did you find what I sent you for?"
"I have, sir." He moved his servo out from behind him and set a large can on the table; it was labeled servo grease. Trailbreaker picked it up as if it was a live bomb.
"Just what are you playing at?" He glanced at Hound, then at the slight smirk on Prowl's face, and then back at the can. Very carefully, holding it at arm's length, he pulled the lid off … to find it full of interfacing lubricant.
Hound snickered at his reaction. Footsteps came up behind; Prowl sensed it was his counterpart without looking. "You should know better than to prank a Prowl, Trailbreaker," the elder Prowl said. "It tends to backfire." He took the can from the other bot's servo. "The old servo grease stunt. I used pressurized fire retardant foam, once."
"I thought about that, but I am the junior bot here." Consider the moniker they'd come up with to distinguish him from his counterpart: Young Prowl. And he was, in their eyes. How many times had he faced a Decepticon? Five or six? These Autobots fought the Cons once a week – and they'd been doing so for longer than he'd been online. No wonder they treated him like a wet-behind-the-gears rookie.
"Oh, Prowl's always up to something," Hound said. "Like that time the triple changers tried to overthrow Megatron …" For his part, Prowl stayed on his best behavior, called everyone sir, and meant it. Even Bumblebee's counterpart was a competent officer; that had come as a surprise. And then there was Optimus Prime.
Here, the term Prime was the title of the supreme commander of the Autobots, and it fit. It was as if all the best qualities of the Optimus he knew had been distilled and amplified in his counterpart. Decisive; compassionate; perceptive. And the more Prowl watched and listened, the more he realized that Prime owned the Autobots on a level that Megatron could only fantasize about. The story Hound was telling was a case in point: after Prime rescued them, Elder Prowl and his team had made a throne for him out of their own bodies. " … Then Prowl said, Have a seat, Boss. But Prime said he'd rather roll."
Prowl had to wonder; what did it take to offer oneself as furniture to one's leader and think nothing of it? And what if Prime had accepted? Though Prowl on his own would barely make a footstool for a bot that size. Plates heated, he shoved that image out of his graphics cache.
***
Later; the watch had changed, and the two Prowls were playing chess together, apparently in complete silence. In fact, they were conversing through a private short-range com link. "I'm surprised that the Autobots here have been so welcoming," the younger bot said.
"Why wouldn't they be? You remind them that there is peace after war. We've been fighting for so long that it's easy to forget." The spark link brought a thread of envy, a longing for the end of war. "Even Grimlock likes you. Primus knows why; we can't stand each other."
"Merely an appreciation for nature. I find it relaxing."
"Ah. While I found my respite in numbers and statistics." Elder Prowl moved his rook across the board. "Check."
Prowl grumbled and moved his king. "Why do you follow Optimus Prime?"
"You've noticed it." Elder Prowl shifted a pawn. "He has courage, skill, intelligence; but many bots have those. He gives of himself and asks for nothing. He would rather die than see any of us come to harm."
Prowl recognized the exasperation that came with that last sentence. "And how many gears have you stripped over this?" He moved his queen.
"I stopped counting." Elder Prowl studied the board before making his next move. "How does your Optimus compare?"
Prowl shrugged. "Less experienced. Less assured. I thought I was foolish to feel loyal to him, until I saw what he has the potential to be. He's a tenth of my age." Although age was largely mental, in robots. Prowl counted out the stages: sparkling, youth, young adult, mature adult, elder. He and Optimus were both still young adults in development, despite the difference in their activation dates; it was a bit embarrassing.
"I remember that feeling," Elder Prowl replied. "You and he will both grow into your roles. Are you interfacing?"
If Prowl had been drinking energon , he would have choked on it. His counterpart was laughing at him with a completely straight face. "I haven't really thought about it."
"Bulkscrap ."
Prowl sighed; it was futile to hide it from someone who shared his Spark. "You're right. I'm attracted to him, and I shouldn't be. It's just so ridiculous."
"Give it time." Elder Prowl's door-wings folded shut and opened again. "It's well worth the wait."
"You … and Prime …" Prowl's surface temperature doubled in the space of nanoclicks . Was Prime as commanding in private as he was in public? Would that massive servo pin him down? Would that deep voice be rough with pleasure? A faint tremor swept over his chassis.
"Yes," Elder Prowl said. "And by the way, checkmate."
"Slag."
***
< Prowl, how is our young guest? >
< Sleeping like a sparkling. For the moment. > Prowl gazed down at his counterpart's form, unmarred as if it had never seen battle. < He's drifting, like I was. Afraid to put his faith in anything. I think it would help if you had a one-on-one talk with him. >
< His own Prime can't handle it? >
< He's still finding his own way, I gather. I would like to spare them some of the trouble we went through."
< A unique opportunity. >
< Yes. Talk to him; show him that. And other things, if you get to it. >
A low chuckle. < Is that a permission? >
< He does have streamlining in all the right places. > Prowl flicked his door-wings as he stepped away from the recharge berth. < And if you're holding a data pad when I reach you, you're going to lose it. >
***
TFA doesn't say where on Cybertron the cyberninja dojo is, so I took some liberties and added a sprinkle of Movie continuity. And I know that the G1 ship isn't Omega Supreme – Prowl just thinks it is.
The thing with the throne is canon ("Triple Takeover"). So… much … subtext …
Next chapter: Sunstreaker and Sideswipe have something to show the two Prowls.
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Better Halves