Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

'Friendly' Persuasion	By : LadyStarscream Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 1993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro, I'm just borrowing the charas long enough to write them! Also, I am not making any profit from these. It's just for fun . Also, many many thanks to LStarrunner who wrote a lot of the content in the later c

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Title: "Friendly" Persuasion Chapter Four: Recovery
Universe: G1
Category: Slash

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: references to Violent Non-Con, Torture, and detailed physical intimacy/interfacing.

Pairings: Established Jazz/Prowl, references to Prowl/Soundwave.

Summary: Drama ensues as Prowl tries to reboot his life.

Author’s Notes: The part about Jazz after that was written by LStarrunner. Thank you SOOOO much! *gives her cookies and stuff* :-D

----------------------------------------------
Ratchet sat down heavily in his office chair and rubbed his optics wearily, one of the habits he'd picked up from Sparkplug and spike. The door to Wheeljack's workshop, opposite the one to the repairbay slid open. Ratchet tiredly took a sip of energon and glanced up. "So, how'd it go with the car-part company?" Ratchet could already tell from his expression it didn't go so well. Sure, they could have built new doorwings for Prowl, but it would be easier just get a pair and modify them, adding the circuitry and sensors needed.
"Well." Wheeljack pulled out a chair across from the medic and sat down. "The guys at the repairshop said they'd be happy to help." he started with a shrug. "But, the Datsun is a foreign car, and they don't normally carry parts for foreign cars. But they said they could order them. And because of the way Prowl transforms, the doors have to swivel out and up slightly, or something like that. Which is what humans refer to as 'suicide doors'.

Ratchet rubbed one hand over his face. "and?" he asked flatly, as though saying "get to the point".

"Well..." Wheeljack looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. "They said they'd have to be custom made, and although they said they'd be happy to help us out, for saving the world and everything.." he paused again, earning him a glare from the CMO.

"He said they'd still have to charge us for it." he mumbled.

Ratchet threw his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. "Oh For The LOVE OF PRIMUS! Do these people not understand that we are out there risking our lives on a daily basis, and Prowl was injured answering a HUMAN distress call to begin with!? And of course we could build new doorwings ourselves, but we were trying to get some of the work done faster so our TACTICAL EXPERT could get repaired and BACK TO HIS JOB!" Ratchet glared at the wall behind Wheeljack.

"I did check some other places." Wheeljack added in a softer tone. "But they said the same thing." he looked up.

"That's okay, Wheeljack. You did fine. We'll just have to build them ourselves, I guess." Ratchet grumped and took another gulp of his energon. "I mean, we would have had to alter them anyway to get the sensor net right. We might as well. It's not like we can go to a junkyard and get parts for our warriors."

"Yeah." Wheeljack glanced at the closed door to the repairbay.

Ratchet smirked as the mental image of rusty old Chevy doors on Sunstreaker, and Wheeljack holding up and old falling-apart hood with the lining falling out. "But if we paint it, it'll look brand new!"

He shook the thought out. "I must be getting tired. I'm starting to daydream." he thought wryly.

"About Sunstreaker, none the less." he added. He glanced at the clock on the corner of his desk. five minutes till midnight. He'd spent the last nine and a half hours working on various damages to Prowl's system. And trying to keep the 2CO from freaking out every time he nearly woke up. He sighed again. "So, what did you tell them?" he asked, hoping Wheeljack hadn't already told the car-part and repair place yes. The Lancia shrugged. "I told them I'd have to run it past you and Prime first."

Ratchet nodded. "We should get to work, then." he stood up and finished off his cube, tossing it to the trash can, which missed and bounced off the wall. Ratchet grumbled and bent to pick it up, swaying and nearly falling.

"Maybe you should get some rest first." Wheeljack suggested gently. Ratchet uprighted himself and looked at him. "I'll be fine. I just got some energon so I'll be fine for the next four hours. We should finish getting Prowl repaired." He stated.

Wheeljack didn't really want to argue with him. Ratchet was already grumpy enough as was, and grumpier when he got tired, but he needed his rest "Prowl can live without his doorwings for a while." he half-chuckled. "Come on. I'll get started on 'em, and you can grab a few minutes of rest, then come help me, okay?" Ratchet muttered something under his breath, but sat back down. "Fine." He gave Wheeljack a half-glaring flat look. "But if I fall asleep, you had better come wake me up." he glared. Wheeljack nodded. "Okay. See you in a few." and disappeared into his workshop. Ratchet sat down at his desk and rested his chin in his hands. He shouldn't be resting, he should be helping wheeljack with those doorwings. But he was kind of tired....

Where did that yawn just come from?

...okay, maybe just five minutes...

the medic's optics dimmed, and he folded his arms, resting his head on them.

just five minutes...

zzzzzzzzzz...

--------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Ark, Jazz fumed. Banished from the repair bay and unable to feel his bond to Prowl, he sulked. Their room felt empty, too quiet, too wanting for Prowl's steady presence. So he headed to the commons room, hoping a bit of high-grade might settle his processor. Even the halls were quite. His steps seemed to echo off the Ark's walls, making them feel more empty then ever before.

He passed a couple mechs on his way, and they waved cheerfully, said hello, asked how Prowl was. Jazz just shrugged and said Ratchet had kicked him out of the repairbay. He sighed as Inferno and Trailbreaker walked away, wishing he wouldn't have to talk to anyone else. He hoped the commons room was empty.

No such luck. The common room was still full of 'Bots from the battle, celebrating Prowl's rescue and yet another Decepticon retreat. Sideswipe descended upon him as soon as he darkened the door, jovially taking his arm and clapping him on the back. "You got Prowl back!" he said, too loudly for Jazz's comfort. Sideswipe led him to where Sunstreaker waited. "Sit, sit - I'll fetch you some energon."

" 'Hide said you gave Soundwave what he had coming to him," Sunstreaker said with a malicious smile as he slid aside to make a spot for Jazz. "Said you left his shell smoking on the floor."

Jazz pulled his lip components into a semblance of a tight smile and sat down slowly on the indicated bench. If he couldn't see Prowl and couldn't recharge, maybe he could plan his revenge on the Decepticons. The Twins were brawlers, but smart enough to maybe help him. "I'd like ta leave 'im in pieces, Sunny."

"Just say how many, Jazz," Sunstreaker encouraged him.

He sat with the Lamborginis in the common room until almost everyone else had left. They came up with several plausible ways to 'do in' the Decepticon communications officer, and more that were pure fantasy. Sideswipe played host, being the one nearest the dispenser, and kept them supplied with energon.

Getting on toward morning, there was a pause in their conversation when Sideswipe got up to get them one more round. Jazz stared down at the table as if he were watching a scene play out on it like a movie screen, and he got around to what was really in his CPU. "Did ya know they ripped Prowl's doors off, Sunny?" He didn't pause to wait for an answer. "His bumper? And his grill?" Faceplates grim, he couldn't spare energy for expression. He registered that he got louder with each item listed, but he had no reason to care. Jazz looked up at Sunstreaker but was obviously still focused on a scene past. "His optics were so fragged I don' think 'e knew me." The few remaining mechs in the room finally left. Sideswipe hurried back.

"Prowl's never been desperate before, Sunny. I ... didn't know he could be."

Sideswipe slid into his seat across from Jazz and Sunstreaker. Jazz turned his gaze to Sideswipe as his friend slid another container of high-grade across the table. Jazz stiffly set his hand around the cube but kept talking, now to Sideswipe.

"Half his armor's gone, Sides. We didn' have time to search for it, but it wasn' in the cell with 'im. His chevron was nearly twisted o-off, an' it looked like they played rugby with his helm." He paused, looking down at the energon before him. The room was so quiet now he could hear his own fuel pump. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper, "Millions o' years I've known 'im," he said to no one in particular, imagining what must have been done to his bonded, playing out on the surface of the liquid, "an' he's never pled with anyone." He took a long draw on his energon. "He begged me not ta leave 'im, but, here I sit. An' I can't feel 'im. Can't feel 'im."

Both brothers were speechless in that moment, having never seen Jazz without a smile let alone in such a maudlin state. Even the grim look he wore while contemplating Soundwave's demise hadn't bothered them - the smile of vengeance - but this, this lack of expression was unnerving. Neither one knew what to do for their friend.

Sunstreaker spoke up. "If we're to carry out any of our plans for Soundwave tomorrow, we need to get some recharge today."

Jazz looked up, seeming confused. Sideswipe took his brother's cue. "Yeah, Sunny's right, Jazz - can't kick 'Con aft on nothin' but high-grade and wishes." The Lamborginis stood up and looked down at Jazz who was no longer paying attention to them. Sunstreaker took his right arm and Sideswipe his left and gently maneuvered him around the table and out of the common room.

"Why can't I feel 'im?" cycled through his CPU over and over. Someone had a hold of his right arm and was pulling him up from the bench. Jazz didn't care. "Why can't I feel 'im?" A voice that sounded familiar but didn't belong that close to his audio answered him. "I dunno know, Jazz. Ask Ratchet when he's got Prowl back together."

That voice was in his left audio. How come there's a voice on my left shoulder and hands on my right arm? he thought, then registered there were hands on his left arm, too. Never seen a four-armed 'Bot before, but why not?

"He's cratered," said another voice, in his right audio, a deeper one that he knew belonged with the first one. "Probably doesn't remember his own name right now, let alone his access code."

"Do too!" he thought, "I'm Jazz. An' Prowl set our access code. Prowl? Where are ya, love?"

"I'll use the override," said the voice in his left audio.

The sound of the security system accepting an entry code soothed him a little. "Prowl must be mad at me, if I hafta use an override to lemme in. Wha'd I do ta Prowl? Why's he mad at me?" Jazz thought desperately, barely able to hold a thought in his processor, he was so exhausted. Then he registered that there were people with him in the doorway. He hadn't entered the code, one of them had. "Hey! Sunny? Sides? Where's Prowl? Why can't I feel Prowl?"

"Ah, he knows us again!" Sunstreaker said to his brother over Jazz's bowed head.

"Yeah," and "Welcome back, Jazz!" said Sideswipe as he backed into the quarters Jazz and Prowl shared. The door may have been large enough for two average-sized mechs abreast, but not three.

"Prowl's in medical, Jazz, Ratchet's taking care of him," Sunstreaker reminded Jazz and considered whether he wanted to share what he knew about shared sparks. The longer Jazz talked tonight the more certain Sunny'd become that he knew precisely what Jazz was going through.

Sideswipe beat him to it as they guided Jazz to his recharge plate. "Ya can't feel Prowl in yer spark 'cause he's drawn so far into himself to try to get away from something, that he's not present at that level anymore."

"N-Not present?" Jazz slurred, struggling to remain upright.

"Mmm-hmm," Sideswipe replied, letting go of Jazz's arm and crouching to grasp his ankles.

Sunstreaker moved to rotate Jazz's shoulders and force him back on the berth. "Happens to Sides and me more than I like to think about. He's a pain in my aft when he's around," Sunny paused to watch his brother trying to get Jazz the rest of the way on the recharge plate. "Jazz, cooperate!" Sideswipe made a face at him but Jazz stopped fighting them. "That's better. He's a pain in my aft when he's around, and a pain in my spark when he's not." The brothers turned to leave.

Jazz sat halfway up on the berth. "Wait! How do I get 'im back?"

Before he triggered the door to close, Sunstreaker answered, "Wait."

As the door cycled, Sideswipe shoved at his twin and added, "Think about him, love him, welcome him back." The door slid into place.

"Primus, I hope nobody heard that drivel from you!" Sunstreaker complained as they walked away.

"It's true, though," Sideswipe draped one arm over his brother's shoulders, "that's all he can do to keep from goin' crazy with worry."

"Get off me, bro', before you scratch my finish."
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

'Friendly' Persuasion