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Life is a Tree	By : CGH Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > AU/AR Views: 2358 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers: Beast Wars, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Life is a Tree
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-Ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
- 6-Ch 6
- 5
- 6
If someone asked Prowl how he managed to drag Jazz all the way up the gorge, he doubted he'd find the answer. Mechs with his build weren't meant to carry someone who weighed as much as Jazz. Seeing Jazz's condition caused a power surge in all his systems. He had to get him away from the water. The strain ripped the wires in his shoulders and elbows loose and ruptured a few minor energon lines in his joints. Small bleeds compared to the damage Jazz sustained.
It was late afternoon and warm sunlight kissed Prowl's left cheek. He paused at the top of the slope and listened for the woodpecker. When it finally announced its presence, he knew he was several hundred yards north of camp. He bent forward to ensure Jazz remained secure on his back and forced his legs into motion. Water tinged in the oily smell of hydraulic fluid poured through cracks in the injured bot's broken knees. Primus, did he absorb half the river?
Finally, exhausted and sick of the incessant warning beeps in his joint sensors, Prowl laid Jazz across one of the portable berths and collapsed across his chest.
"Jazz..." Prowl panted, "Can you hear me?"
No response. The water likely shorted his sensory circuits.
He positioned Jazz facedown with his head dangling off one side. Water trickled audibly from his shattered optics and mouth. The oily smell wafting off Jazz's legs told Prowl he wouldn't be walking or regaining consciousness until Ratchet or Sari's key performed the necessary repairs.
The worst was over. Prowl forced himself to calm down. The last thing he needed was distress in his voice when he hailed the other Autobots.
Optimus kept his com link on alert at all times whenever one or more of his own team left the warehouse. For once Prowl was glad for that.
"Optimus, this is Prowl."
"Optimus here. Is everything okay?"
"I have the shard." Prowl said. "Jazz is severely injured and requires treatment as soon as possible."
"Injuries?" Optimus sounded suddenly worried. "What happened?"
"We ran into some terrain issues while locating the shard."
"Okay. I'm picking up your coordinates. Ratchet and I will be there soon. Sari is with Bulkhead and Bumblebee--I'll contact them on the way. What is your condition?"
"Worry about Jazz, first!" Prowl snapped, his own tone surprising him.
"What the frag happened?" Ratchet cut in.
Prowl explained everything from the mine to finding the shard, though he purposely left out anything to do with their bonding experience. By the time he finished he heard his comrades' sirens in the distance.
And Ratchet blasted, "YOU LET JAZZ LEAP AROUND BLIND?"
"Ratchet!" Optimus barked, "Easy."
"Easy? EASY? Do you realize how useless a flawed mech is when it comes to fighting? Why do you think they get scrapped off the assembly line? They're only good for parts! He's lucky he wasn't assembled that way!"
Prowl muted his com so Ratchet wouldn't hear him growl. The anguish and pain he thought he left behind curled like suffocating smoke in the back of his mind. Ratchet--the medic he should trust--just proved where he stood regarding the flawed. It didn't matter how good a medic he was...Prowl knew how Ratchet would treat him if his blindness ever became known.
This knowledge hurt, but he shoved it aside. He had another matter to worry about and its name was Jazz.
"Hold on, Jazz," Prowl rubbed his hands and sent his love through their bond. It was getting harder and harder to sense Jazz's Spark. Why was he fading? "They're almost here."
The sirens stopped.
Prowl turned his visor on just in time for it to pick up Optimus' red and blue armor at the edge of camp. Ratchet's red and white appeared an instant later, and Prowl couldn't avoid a bitter shiver when the medic rushed over. He barely concealed his surprise at Ratchet's haste--Jazz was bleeding hydraulic fluid everywhere. All that dripping he assumed to be water was vital fluid! The pine trees masked its scent! If he'd turned on his oscillators sooner, if he'd paid more attention, if--
"Move! I need to clamp those lines!" Ratchet unceremoniously flipped Jazz onto his back and metal tools clanked against the berth. "Why the frag did you let him bleed out this long?"
A void opened in Prowl's Spark. His mouth worked soundlessly until he finally found his monologue. "I--"
Ratchet used his larger size to push Prowl aside. His feet splashed in the liquid flowing out of Jazz's legs. "Nevermind! Just back off!"
Shaking, Prowl knelt at the head of the berth. The sudden wrenching of his internals doubled him over. He pressed his cheek to Jazz's brow and clenched his teeth so he wouldn't show his self-anguish. Forgive me...I should have known. I should have paid closer attention. Oh, Jazz...
"How is he?" Optimus asked from Prowl's right.
"He's a mess! Look at this! It's taking up all my clamps!" grumbled the medic. Tools clicked and rattled. "There. He's stable. Good thing we've got that key on our side. I can fix the legs up good as new, but I don't have the materials for new optics."
"Do what you can," Optimus replied, his tone authoritative and business-like. His facial expression probably showed the concern not fully present in his voice.
Self-loathing continued its slimy path through Prowl's mind. He bent over until his visor detected nothing but Jazz's handsome face. His lips were parted. Prowl wanted to kiss them, but couldn't make himself do it with Ratchet and Prime right there.
A hand materialized on his shoulder.
"Prowl," Optimus said, "Let's take a walk."
"N-no..."
"Jazz is going to be--"
"Everyone thought I was stable when I suffered a grievous injury from that nanobot-infested cockroach."
"Your chest was also ripped wide open. Jazz will be okay." Optimus' voice remained gentle. "Let's let Ratchet work."
Prowl sighed and forced his body to stand. He followed Prime more by sound than anything, occasionally putting a hand up to keep tree branches out of his face. They walked until Prowl couldn't hear Ratchet muttering curses anymore.
"Where is the hole Jazz fell into?"
"Oh, it's on the slope approximately two hundred yards north of where we camped."
"I see..."
"He was curious," Prowl added.
"And why didn't you radio me to come pull him out?" Optimus' tone remained calm, not at all reprimanding.
"The fall jammed his sensory circuits. I wanted to assess his injuries--"
"Next time, Prowl, radio for help. It's always there."
Prowl hung his head, growling under his breath.
Rocks shifted when Optimus moved closer to the gorge. He stood at the edge of the slope, though Prowl couldn't tell he was facing away until he spoke, "I'm sorry your trip didn't go as planned. I know you were looking forward to it."
Why would he apologize for that?
"It...had its good points," Prowl replied. More to assure himself than his commander. Unbidden, memories of the incredible bonding experience surfaced and caressed his consciousness. The reality of who Jazz was...sounds they made while overloading...how their bodies felt while pressed so tightly together...his smooth armor...Prowl bit his lip and touched his own chest. Faint scratches were the only sign of what took place.
"I see..." Optimus turned around. He was smiling and his voice carried a knowing tone. "I'm glad for you."
Why in Primus' name does he have to be so perceptive in these matters?
"Um...thank you." Prowl reeled for an excuse to change the subject. Anything to stop the pit of his fuel tanks from twisting in on themselves. "Oh! That reminds me..." He produced the AllSpark shard, which was just large enough to fill his entire palm. "Here."
Optimus' hand grasped the shard and moved away.
A fresh round of Ratchet's cursing made Prowl jump. He turned towards it, ready to bolt back to Jazz's side. A firm hand clamped his shoulder, halting him.
"Easy there...Jazz is going to be--"
"It's not that!" Prowl snapped. His lips curled in a snarl to match the heat brewing around his Spark. He had to snarl--otherwise he'd cry and the lack of tears would doom him. "I...didn't realize how badly he was losing fluids. He may have died because I wasn't vigilant enough!"
"He's being helped. Sari's key will have Jazz up and seeing again in no time." He turned away, balancing the shard on his large, blue palm. "Though, it's kind of fascinating. A blind mech...heh, a long time ago there was a rumor that a blind mech snuck into the Academy right around the time I washed out. Would've been interesting to meet him. I think anybody that can work around that severe a limitation should be allowed to live as long as he wanted."
Jerking his head up, Prowl stared at him as if he grew three heads. "Sir?"
Optimus shrugged his shoulders, "Well, obviously he was smart enough to pass the entrance exam--"
Barely, Prowl added silently. Every word Prime said tied his innards into painful knots. Despite this, he let not a hint of conflict show on his face. He wished Optimus would stop talking!
"--and mingle enough to be invisible until the rumor got out. Then I heard he ran. Where do you think somebody like that would go, Prowl?"
"I don't know," he answered quickly, before any suspicion could lay on his shoulders. "Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight." Meanwhile, inwardly, he begged, Please, in the name of everything I call holy, don't let him be so perceptive he suspects. Please...
Optimus toed the rotting remains of a fallen log. "Well, whoever he is, I certainly admire his determination and adaptability."
"I...would do the same. But I also would not expect him to come forward. Too much risk."
"I agree." Prime pushed the log over the slope and it banged noisily on something when it fell. "And I think I'd somehow forget to contact the authorities if I ever encountered him. How about you?"
"The same." Prowl relaxed and barely resisted a smile. If only Optimus knew.
Somewhere behind him, the woodpecker rapped on its tree. The hollow sound reminded him of the wind chimes Jazz gave as a gift.
Prowl... Jazz's voice reached through the bond.
Prowl's mouth dropped. Jazz? He bolted away from Prime and slid to a stop next to a grousing Ratchet.
"Stop moving your legs! Are you trying to make 'em fall off? Oh...hey Prowl. Jazz, he's here, now settle down!"
"Jazz," Prowl butted into the medic's ranting, "I'm right here. Please, lie still. You aren't well yet."
"Where am I?"
The woodpecker rattled less than ten feet away, somewhere on the left.
"Oh...nevermind. I know."
"You remember," Prowl smiled at him. He decided to talk through their bond, hoping to reduce the strain on Jazz's body. Don't the trees smell beautiful?
Mmm...you smell better.
He was cracking jokes. Prowl took that as a good sign--at least he knew Jazz's spirits were up despite his injuries.
Primus, Jazz...you have a one-track mind.
Jazz's hand cupped his cheek. His full lips curved in a small smile, It's 'cause you're irresistible. So, who all is here? Just you and Ratchet?
Optimus is here, too.
Sweet...
Jazz, I'm sorry.
Why? There's nothing to be sorry ab--
I didn't turn my oscillators on right away. You were bleeding hydraulic fluid and I thought it was water. You nearly died and it would have been my fault.
Well, I'm not dyin' am I?
Prowl didn't reply because the emotions bubbling in his chest blotted out everything else. He felt Jazz's thumb stroke his bottom lip.
I don't blame ya for anything, Prowl. You did what you had to. I'm gonna be okay. You really think I'd skip outta this life after I hooked up with the hottest mech I ever laid optics on?
It was such a typical Jazz statement that the weight in Prowl's chest became a sugary-sweet euphoria. He heard himself laughing instead of sobbing. Crying and laughing at the same time--what a strange sensation!
Now that's a sound I hope to hear a lot more. Jazz smiled. Then the hand on Prowl's cheek relaxed. Prowl caught it before it crashed back onto the berth.
"Jazz?" Jazz? Jazz! He looked up, "Ratchet! What happened?"
"Will you relax?" Ratchet slowly gathered his tools and placed them into their proper compartments. "He has intermittent power in his main circuitry. He'll be in and out until Sari gets here with her key."
Optimus' footsteps trudged back into the campsite. Prowl turned his head when he sensed Prime picking up the containers of rust sticks and flux. He'd nearly forgotten about those. Letting them go to waste would've been a sad deal--they were good quality and tasted expensive.
"Jazz is stable?"
"He's as patched as I can get him," Ratchet remarked, "Can't do any more until Sari gets here."
Optimus and Ratchet moved away to continue their conversation. Neither seemed aware that Prowl could still hear their voices, and Prowl didn't bother telling them otherwise. Observing was one of the many talents he'd acquired in his ninja training. He learned a lot about people just by listening to their conversations.
"They bonded." Ratchet said. His voice carried a smile, "Classic scratches in the chest armor. Gives 'em away every time."
"Think they're a good match?"
"Heh! Opposites attract, don't they?"
Optimus' reply was silent, perhaps a nod or a shrug.
Ratchet went on, "He's the last one I ever expected to find somebody. Who knows? Maybe he'll open up some. Poor kid, he seems to have a lot on his mind all the time. I used to think it was some ninja thing. But there's Jazz is loud and talkative..."
"...and doesn't seem to mind that Prowl just listens."
"Mmhmm."
Prowl shut them out after that. He refocused on the weight of Jazz's hand resting in his own. In a short while, Jazz's eyesight would be restored. Prowl's memory drifted unbidden to the light he beheld during intercourse. A glimpse...it'd been a glimpse into the world of color and illumination Jazz lived in, and it took place while Jazz himself couldn't see a thing. What a remarkable twist of fate. They both tasted each other's worlds at the exact same time.
Light...it was so beautiful. If Jazz's love was light, it had to be even brighter than the sun. Prowl tilted his head towards the sun's warmth and smiled. Ancient Circuit-Su texts had a saying--"The truest love glows brighter, hotter and longer than any star. But, like the wind, it is only felt and heard, never seen."--and now he firmly believed it.
Prowl harbored no envy towards Jazz's soon-to-be-restored eyesight. Jazz didn't belong in the blind world any more than Prowl belonged amongst the sighted. In some ways, he liked to think Jazz did all the seeing he himself couldn't do.
"Finally!" Ratchet's voice broke the quiet. "Heads up, Prowl, the others are coming."
.o
Warmth roused Jazz back to consciousness. His optics came online suddenly, startling him. The first thing he saw was Prowl's concerned visage leaning down.
"Jazz?" Prowl whispered, "Can you see?"
Jazz couldn't imagine waking up to anything more gorgeous than that face. He grinned and thumped Prowl's pouty bottom lip, "You're a sight for sore eyes."
As was the brilliant red, yellow and purple sunset reflected in his visor. For one split second Jazz felt a little bad knowing such an amazing view stopped on that surface, but it disappeared the moment Prowl smiled at him. Beauty didn't vanish because one's vision failed--he knew that now. He lifted his head, his lips drawing closer to Prowl's--
--and then something yellow leaned over between them, grinning happily.
"Hey, Jazz!" Bumblebee held up three fingers, "How many digits?"
Prowl's annoyed sneer made Jazz break into laughter. "Three, last time I checked." He chortled and shifted his gaze to Sari, who still sat on her knees on his chest. "Thanks a lot. I feel great."
The redhead smiled sweetly, "You're welcome!"
He helped her reach Prowl's chest so she could repair him with her key. Then he set her down near Bumblebee. His gaze wandered over the various shapes, sizes and colors of the surrounding Autobots. In some ways he'd already forgotten the hours he spent without his sight, yet at the same time seeing so many colors at once left him dazzled.
"Hey, Jazz, you like music don'tcha?" Sari asked. She leaned casually on his foot, looking up with her huge eyes, "Don'tcha?"
"Yeah," he didn't disguise his amusement.
"Cool! Bulkhead, Bumblebee and me got a really cool karaoke machine. Maybe you can come by and play with it sometime."
He stared, puzzled. "Why would you wanna carry an oak?"
Laughter erupted.
Bulkhead leaned over, "It's a singing game. Sari's good at it. We found one with some really old music on it."
"Antique," Bumblebee added, grinning.
"Really? Solid!" Jazz snapped his fingers and gazed at Prowl, who now stood away from the others. He appeared to be watching the sun dip under the horizon. Oh, Primus, he was gorgeous standing there in the gloaming. Moments like these made him glad he to have functioning optics and he swore he'd never take them for granted again.
"Guys, c'mon! It's getting cold out here."
"Right. We probably should head out. Keeping the shard out in the open is asking for trouble." Optimus frowned at the crystal in his hand. He transformed, stashing it somewhere in his cab as he assumed the form of a fire truck.
"You go on ahead. I'll catch up."
"You sure?" Bulkhead asked while using his massive foot to grind out the last embers of the campfire. The others were already folding themselves into vehicle mode and zooming away.
"Yeah. Don't worry, I'm a-okay now." Jazz grinned at him. He felt a little sore and craved a healthy dose of motor oil, but other than that he swore he could jump to the moon.
The others were almost out of view. Dust hung in the air from tires kicking up soil.
"Uh...sure. See you back at the base." Smiling, Bulkhead lifted his three-fingered hand in a wave and scrambled into vehicle form to catch up with his friends.
Jazz chuckled at Bulkhead's departure. They were an amusing bunch to say the least. He joined Prowl under the largest pine tree in their camp and laid a light hand on his back. "Hey."
Prowl silently stopped leaning on the tree and transferred his weight to Jazz's side. His facial expression did not change, he didn't say a word...but he didn't have to. The gesture said it all. Jazz understood Prowl's desire for stillness and silence. He closed his mouth and wrapped his arms around Prowl's waist from behind, his chin coming to rest on his shoulder.
The horizon turned deeper shades of red, purple and orange that faded slowly to dark blue. Jazz's awe at it transferred through their bond. Prowl grasped his hand and lightly squeezed it. Then he tilted his head back and beamed.
"I felt how beautiful it was through you," Prowl sounded awed. "Let's watch every sunset together from now on. No matter where we are, even if we aren't together at the time, let's watch it."
A soft smile touched Jazz's full lips. It was such a "Prowl" thing that made him love him even more. He kissed Prowl's forehead and whispered against it, "I'll watch, you feel. Sweet, man. It'll be our tradition."
"Good. Now...oh!" Prowl jolted, "I better return those library books I borrowed."
Jazz's Spark flip-flopped in its chamber at the way Prowl's mouth formed such a tiny, perfect "o" shape. "Sure. They'll probably be so crazy about that karaoke thing that none of 'em will see ya sneakin' out."
Prowl nodded and his golden chevron shimmered in the rising moon. Was it the moon or the love Jazz felt that made him seem so perfect? Jazz didn't have time to ponder--Prowl transformed and roared down the road.
Jazz silently collapsed the portable berths so he could pick them up later. He glanced once more at the moon before transforming and taking off for the warehouse.
Less than half an hour later, amidst the crunch and slosh of mechs chomping on rust sticks and flux, Jazz understood why Prowl was conveniently missing. He arrived to discover the karaoke machine already in use. Before he found a suitable excuse to join Prowl, Bulkhead placed a delicious oil shake in his hands and asked him to watch the show.
How could he refuse?
He kind of wished he did.
Bulkhead and Bumblebee weren't the best of singers. They knew all the words to the songs...but neither could carry a tune in a bucket. They looked like they were having so much fun singing a song about "daring to be stupid" that Jazz couldn't avoid snickering.
Sari fared much better. The peppy song she sang--it had an odd chorus line that stated "Oops, I did it again..." --made Jazz think about times he'd rather not remember. He still applauded her when she finished. It just wouldn't be fair to rain on her fun with millennia-old baggage.
Optimus tried. He really did. He didn't know any songs, and spent more time reading the screen and questioning the location of this "Heartbreak Hotel" than actually singing. At least he could sort of carry a tune, and he laughed at himself at the end. Poor Optimus--Jazz was glad Sentinel didn't see that. Though, come to think of it, Jazz could imagine Sentinel making a worse fool of himself by trying to make up his own lyrics.
Ratchet refused to sing at all.
Fortunately for Jazz, the machinery did have a few songs he'd heard before. One jumped out at him, a song sung by an artist whose long last name appeared impossible to pronounce. He kept his choice to himself because he was saving it for Prowl.
Jazz got up to refill his oil shake. Through the corner of his eye he spotted a huge, industrial-sized box of strange nails. The text labeled them as "Escutcheon pins." They were like nails, but had domed heads. His lips curved in a half-smile. Ooh, he knew what he could do with those. He excused himself to "go check on Prowl" and snuck off with the box.
And proceeded to write Braille messages all over Prowl's quarters.
"Jazz? You in here?"
"Eh?" Jazz peeked over his shoulder.
Bumblebee stuck his head in the door, looked around and clicked his glossa. "You realize he's gonna be mad when he jumps down from that tree and sees you messed up his walls, right? Should I take the pictures while you run?"
"Shh!" Jazz made a face and chuckled. "Prowl won't be mad. I'm decoratin' is all. It's...uh...a ninja thing. You wouldn't get it."
"Tch. You ninjas are weird!"
Jazz finished up and chased Bumblebee back into the main room.
As always Prowl had impeccable timing. Jazz sensed his stealthy return through their bond--he'd entered via the hole in his ceiling and had no plans to leave his room.
"C'mon, Jazz. Sing something!" Sari smiled sweetly. "Please?"
Jazz glanced at Prowl's darkened door and grinned. "All right, all right. I'll take the mike."
He caught it when Bumblebee tossed it his way. The darn thing was surprisingly huge with a foamy yellow substance sticking out of one end. He grabbed the remote and flipped through his music choices. "Now lemme find the song--ah, there it is. Okay, ready?"
All eyes were on him.
"C'mon, Jazz!" Sari cheered.
Ukulele music tinkled through the speakers. Jazz lifted his head and brought the microphone closer to his mouth. "This one's for Prowl."
.o
Something was amiss. Prowl knew it the moment he jumped down and felt metal bumps on the wall behind his tree. Who in the world thought it'd be funny to muck up his walls? His anger stopped once he realized the dots were arranged in regular patterns. He shut off his visor and rubbed his fingertips across the text.
"Learning to see like you do made me the happiest mech alive."
He trailed the stucco and found another message behind one of his wall hangings. This one sent his Spark trembling in its chamber.
"Moonlight looks good on you. Just thought I'd tell you that."
Prowl discovered several clever notes speckled throughout his room. Jazz was creative in his placement. On the undersides of shelves, around the doorframe, next to light switches and even on the floor. These were like hanging messages, but even more secret because Braille was just a bunch of meaningless patterns to the sighted. Jazz could hide love notes in plain view if he wanted, and reading them didn't require bright lights or magnification.
Music made its way through his open door. A stringed instrument of some kind. It didn't interest him until he heard Jazz's smooth voice slip in. He found himself sitting at rapt attention in the darkness, listening. The way Jazz sang was beautiful, his lyrics vividly describing an imaginary world somewhere over a rainbow.
Like a child hypnotized by the Pied Piper, Prowl followed that fantastic sound into the main room. Jazz practically descended on him the moment he emerged. Prowl felt an arm wrap around his waist and that wonderful voice crooned gently into his audio. The others saw it all, but he didn't care. Hearing Jazz sing blotted out all sense of reality. There were only dreams of their incredible bonding experience. He let his elation seep through their bond and heard Jazz smiling at him.
"Man, check Prowl out," Bumblebee whispered from the edge of somewhere. "He hates it."
Prowl wondered what Bumblebee would say if he knew he was actually trying not to kiss Jazz and interrupt that stunning voice.
Jazz sang about so many colors and sensations and how troubles melted like lemon drops above chimney tops. All true--Prowl always felt happy first whenever he thought of Jazz, or heard his name brought up in conversation. He turned his visor on to watch his lover's face respond to the music. Jazz was smiling so softly that Prowl barely resisted tracing it with his fingertips. Primus, why did he keep this talent secret for so long?
Sari and Bumblebee were whispering, but Prowl couldn't spare half an audio to listen in. Not when that all-encompassing voice held him in its gentle embrace and sent warmth shooting across his Spark. Jazz looked radiant, and as long as he lived Prowl knew he'd never forget this moment.
If only time stood still longer. All too soon, the song was over and that wonderful, smooth, glowing voice hummed to silence.
Prowl felt Jazz reach over him and hand something to Bulkhead. That same arm wrapped around his shoulders as soft lips lightly kissed his audio.
"And that's what a rainbow sounds like," Jazz whispered in a tone only Prowl could hear. "Funny thing is, it only sounds good when you're listenin'."
Snorting at that, Prowl kept his expression carefully composed.
"It was nice," he said. Then he retreated to his quarters while letting all the gratitude, love and admiration he felt pour into their bond. He knew Jazz wouldn't misunderstand even though the others did. Their responses followed his back all the way into his private quarters.
"Wow. Cold shoulder, much?" Bulkhead mumbled, his mouth full of rust stick crumbs. "I was just gonna ask if he wanted the mike!"
"Prowl, sing? Ahahahaaaaa!" Bumblebee fell off the cement couch loud enough that half of Cybertron probably heard it. "Maybe when the Pit freezes over!"
Prowl gathered up the two by fours he collected on his way back from the library. Using the sharp tip of a throwing disk, he sat down and carved his own hanging messages. Reading might have posed problems for him, but he could write by touch. Each glyph he carved flowed smoothly into its neighbor like fine art. He utilized a ball of twine, faced the tree and strung the messages in tiers--one on the lowest branch, another in the middle and the third just below the bough upon which he sat. They said:
Loving you feels right.
Your voice is a rainbow, bright.
It's like having sight.
Then Prowl settled himself under the gentle tapping of his wooden wind chimes. The full moon rode high in the endless sky. He turned towards its intangible glow. It was strange, seeing how being in love changed his outlook on the world. Everything seemed to whisper Jazz's name. He longed to hear that smooth voice in his audio. The idea of making Jazz happy sent thrills through his Spark. He didn't need to hide anything from Jazz, because Jazz would always be the hand reaching down to pull him out whenever the world closed in like compactor walls.
A presence blocked the door of his quarters. Prowl's fuel tanks quivered. The tree moved as Jazz's weight shifted its gravitational center. Prowl tingled in anticipation of his lover's touch. Jazz was right below him now, reading the last message. The branch accepted another body, a silent hand caressed his cheek and the swelling warmth in his Spark reached for those fingertips.
Reality was complete once more.
"Hey, sexy," Jazz said in his ear. "I found a container of something tasty under the couch. Stick out your tongue."
Prowl did so without question and felt Jazz's thumb deposit a scoop of sweet axel grease. "Mm...this is Bumblebee's. I think I'll play innocent if he asks what happened to--" his fingers moved to tighten their grip before Jazz could pull away, "--excuse me, I wasn't done with your thumb."
"Wow, possessive."
"Only with you." He pulled Jazz's hand back to his mouth and lapped up the rest of the axel grease. His mind slipped towards yesterday, when his tongue was doing the exact same thing to something else, and his face grew gently warm.
"Ya missed Optimus' song." Jazz had to be remembering, too, because his fingertips were hotter than before. "He sang about a hound dog or something. Funny stuff. I think he's hooked on this Elvis person."
"I think I'll survive," Prowl replied, finally releasing Jazz's hand. "Besides...I prefer your singing. That was...that was beautiful, Jazz. I..." he cupped the side of his own face, though he wondered why he felt so shy when talking to Jazz was so easy, "...doubt a rainbow can compete."
Soft lips brushed his audio, "Thanks. Really--that means a lot."
"I'm glad." Prowl whispered. Then, annoyingly, reality intruded on his mind. "Don't you have to report to Ultra Magnus?"
"In the next twenty four hours, yeah. Why go back early on my time off?" Jazz's voice had a smile's sweetness behind it. "I really don't care where we spend the next cycle...anywhere's good if you're there."
Grinning, Prowl ducked his head while Jazz's words tickled him pink inside. He felt the branch shift and greeted the lips he knew were headed his way. No tongues, just the pure softness of a lover's kiss. Sugary euphoria welled in his chest as he melted into the arm that draped itself casually around his shoulders. Jazz was looking up at the moon...Prowl could tell by the slight tension in his neck. He traced the cables connecting Jazz's throat to his chassis. A faint shiver rewarded him.
"There's a meteor shower goin' on tonight." Jazz whispered, looking down at him, "Looks like it's raining light. Can your visor pick it up?"
Prowl tried, but only felt faint flickers. "Probably not as well as your eyes. So be my eyes. Is it beautiful?"
"Yeah...I like what I'm lookin' at." And it wasn't the sky.
Prowl gave Jazz's chest a playful slap. "Humans often make wishes on shooting stars. That poses a slight problem."
"Eh?"
"My wish already came true."
Jazz's lovely mouth smiled into his fingers and came down for a quick peck. "Mine, too."
Neither said anything after that. Prowl enjoyed the sky's beauty vicariously through Jazz's eyes, and the quiet stretched on without growing awkward. City sounds grew muffled behind the bubble of togetherness surrounding the tree. Prowl reveled in the mutual silence. Words tended to grow cumbersome after awhile. But a touch? A smile? A song? The warm pulse passing back and forth through their bond? All were contributions to a conversation that never ceased. Love was a language all its own.
Prowl clasped Jazz's hand when it came to rest gently on his chest. Once upon a time those same fingers were prepared to end him, but chose instead to set him free. Had that moment of first contact tied the knot binding their destinies together? Maybe their lives were the same as the tree in which they sat. No matter how complex, twisted or ugly it became, each root and limb connected to the same trunk. Trees themselves came from tiny seeds that burst into life just like the universe itself exploded into being. Everyone who ever lived could trace their path to its origin in a single cosmic seed.
Prowl nestled closer to Jazz, who leaned more heavily on the tree trunk, and marveled at his life. The love he'd been searching for was destiny standing at the beginning of everything, patiently waiting for him to look over his shoulder.
- 5
- 6
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Life is a Tree