#finding prowl

Guess which one of these I drew while crying.

Here are the doodles I mentioned.

I hope they ain’t blurry🥲

[55 cycles into capture]

Mabye, Primus had answered his call. The baby's fever broke in the evening, just as the crowds started to dwindle and the skeleton crew remained. The overhead lights had dimmed, signalling night-time in the above world. The worst was over but they weren't out of the blue yet. Muscles atrophied from malnutrition and sickness, the little one was still too weak to move on their own. Being cybertronian, the dim was no bother on their vision but it was still a trek from their cove to the surface of their tank to breach. Prowl had to use his body as a buoy to float the little one as they took small gulping breathes.

In between the surfacing intervals, Prowl was all but left to his thoughts, gazing aimlessly at the other mers outside his glided cage. To recharge now would only invite nightmares, an act that could potentially rob the little one of their recharge. So Prowl opted to settle in for a long night. It wasn't like he hadn't done so before. He simmered in the surrealness of his situation. The little life now here with him. Tired, his mind ebbed and rose with the cries of the humpback mer. There would be no singing for him tonight as thoughts came from all new directions. They drowned him.

'Where were their mother now? What had happened to them? Captured? Killed? What of their pod? How long had the baby been alone for? What had they been witness to?

His ATS concluded that the sparkling would most likely be from one of the small nomadic neutral pods originating around the northern hemisphere. One of many remaining neutrals that hadn't left the planet in time before the collision. War-ravaged Cybertron had been a wasteland. If there was one good thing to come out of the planetary collision millions of years ago, it was the new fuel source it provided. Earth-Cybertron was an abundant resource of which all mecha took their fill. Sparklings while still not common were finally not a rarity to their dwindling race outside of the major factions.

As an autobot and as SIC, Prowl had always been preoccupied. The wars with the Decepticons, dealing with outside operations [the Wreckers], trying to contact what remains of their race beyond the stars and even that one occasion the Quintessons had crashed in wanting to enslave them. He had been at the forefront of those operations. Post war, it had narrowed down to evading humans and keeping the peace on Cybertron. Post war, childcare had never been one of his priorities, nor an option he thought to pursue. He did not have a romantic partner nor any time to invest in one. J....The terror twins and Hot Rod were child enough for him. To be honest, he had never seen a sparkling up until Chromedome and Rewind first introduced their sparkling to the colony and hadn't that done a number on his spark.

Caught in the memory, the words of Ultra Magnus washed over him. "- I think your the loneliest mech I've ever met."

In his tank, he looked over himself. Scars and healing flesh. A shattered mind. He could barely take care of himself most days, how can he take care of a sparkling? Could they even eat solid foods yet?

When he had fed the sparkling kelp, a quick look at the sparkling's intake showed they only had two sparkling teeth jutting out of their top gum. From their size, Prowl assumed the sparkling was more toddler than infant. If the little one hadn't been weaned, he would have to be soon. Milk was not a worry at least. All cybertronians were intersex, but for the majority of cybertronians carrier coding had to be activated by an actual kindling. Being initially a public service servant, Prowl was made with the standard carrier protocols buried in place for the event such as these. Prowl could already feel the changes within him. A good sort of soreness to accompany the many aches. At the most he estimated that it would take at least until the morning for his pouches to fill.

Prowl didn't know how to feel about that. He will experience his first feeding before his first kindling, alone. A funnily sad thought that this was the first milestone that Prowl would share with a little one.

A thought struck him then, a designation. He didn't know the little ones' designation. In the day's events, Prowl hadn't even thought to try and ask for one. 'Could the little one even speak?' Prowl mulled it over looking down sparkling tightly clutching his chest in sleep. Their skin was still slightly flushed, eyes furrowed in their sleep. Mabye, they weren't really of a mind to tell him a designation anyway.

The remainder of the night was spent in silence, his ATS circling around his bare-bones escape plans, his current physical changes situation, the baby, and a designation to call them by. J..... Somewhere in between Prowl dropped off into a light doze.

The early morning arrived without much fanfare, the lights above returned to their usual blistering white. The human staff handover began. Splashing overhead roused Prowl from his rest. Food had arrived. Leaving the sparkling to their slumber, Prowl waited for the humans to back away before approaching the low ledge that served as their interaction platform.

Having been here long enough that rejecting food from them was in the past, Prowl had been a little surprised when the human workers had given him his usual ration of stale fish and a little bottle of milk beside it. Opening the bottle for a quick sniff made him gag. This milk was definitely NOT going into that sparkling's intake. Surely humans knew that much. It irritated Prowl that even with all their research and advancements, of knowing about his kinds general way of life, that they couldn't even synthesis the correct sustenance.

Incompetent fools.

He chucked the bottle back at the pair of handlers standing by the door and managed to hit the one with the badge "Spike W" in the head with it. The human squawked and turned back to glare at him. The absolute hate in their eyes gave Prowl a little satisfaction as he dove back down. He stopped at the entrance to his cove. A quick check revealed his pouches were ready to go, while not as pronounced as a femme's his chest seemed to have more curves to it already. He felt the heaviness in them. It was time. Awkwardly he reached out a hand, gently shaking the little one's shoulder. A couple of shakes made the little one release a little whine that almost made Prowl withdraw. Prowl pushed through it. The little one opened their bleary eyes to glare at him. They gave off a moody huff, curling up further to hide their face in the sand. It was kind of cute. A small smile graced Prowl's faceplate. Sass was a sign that the little was on the up and up in recovery. As new as the situation was to him, sass was a familiar attitude that Prowl could always handle.

The new code within him had settled well enough. It whispered that to recover, the little one needed to eat. Prowl followed along with it's directives, settling next to the sparkling before lifting them up gently into the crook of his arms. The new foreign programming guided his movements. The little one was only surprised by the slight jostle before settling into the new position. With steady hands he didn't know he possessed, he brought the little's intake to his chest and waited. To his relief the little one did as he had hoped, quickly latching on to suckle.

The sensation of something rushing out of him was WEIRD to say the least. Prowl shivered a little as the first drops escaped him. It tilted between being ticklish and soothing, he made sure to hold on well to the little one as he rode the sensations. The little one ate well. With one problem down with minimal resistance, Prowl felt a little lighter in his chest. Silently, Prowl congratulated himself on his achievement.

As the little one suckled, a little hand curled around one of his digits. Seeing and feeling the size difference between them made Prowl's mind stall. Not for the first time, the gravity of the situation seemed to crash over him, yet it felt like distant ocean waves. This sparkling was doing things to him. Things he had felt before in another different light, many vorns ago. It unnerved him a little how quickly he had come to care for the little one, in this cage of stale smells and dead sounds. He had never felt such feelings come on so quickly. Not with Chro....., not with Mesothulas, never with Sentinel. He couldn't remember a time where these feelings were returned in kind either. *Memories of that night, blurred and dizzy with J....... -* Outside his turbulent helm, the little ones' eyes met his, a bright cerulean blue that reminded Prowl of the sunlit surface of the Bering sea. *A certain visor in the sunlight came to mind.* So full, so whole, it was like the sparkling was looking within Prowl, into his spark.

The moment was broken when the sparkling unlatched from his pouch. They wriggle in his hold, as Prowl eased them onto his lap. They looked up at Prowl for a moment before patting their belly. "Pat?" Prowl felt elated, the sparkling could speak! That increased the probability of him being able to care for the sparkling tenfold. "Pat!" They repeated at him, more urgency in their voice. A small smile graced Prowl's faceplate, if the sparkling wanted to be patted who was Prowl to deny that. He began to rub their belly in a circular clockwise fashion patting gently as he went. The little one content went back to their nursing, soothed for now. Prowl moved to settle by the wall of the cove, body faced at an angle to the glass to look out at the growing crowd wandering the site while shielding the little one from view.

What would the others do if they could see him now. The terror twins would probably laughing their asses off. Many people would be loosing some lumpsum currency to smokescreen's betting pool. Prowl hadn't managed to sus out the most recent one but he was highly suspicious that his sex life was a hot topic/ running joke in action.

Optimus.....

What would J...... thin - k- .

Before he could spiral too deep into those thoughts, the sparkling unlatched a second time, pushing away from Prowl's chest. Looks like they had their fill for now. A few pats to the back made quick work of any trapped air in their system. Content and happy, the little one seemed energized enough to try and move out of his hold. With the little one now lucid, Prowl asked the burning question. "Little one, do you have a designation?"

The sparkling wordlessly looked up at him not quite getting his meaning. A questioning wirr came from their lips. Mentally Prowl sighed old speech habits died hard, perhaps he should refrain from using big words for now. "Do you have a name?" He gestured to himself. "My name is Prowl." "Prowl" he reiterated. "Pow" repeated the little one, smacking a little hand onto his chest.

Close enough Prowl figured. "

Yes, Prowl." He now gestured towards the little one, "Name?" The little one took a moment before quietly saying "Blue."

"Blue?" Prowl parroted, puzzled. Their carrier sure picked an odd choice of name for an orca mer. There really wasn't much blue to be had on this sparkling. "Blue!" the child repeated proudly, little hands now patting themself. Having answered the adult's question the little toddler saw fit to push off out of Prowl's hold. Weakly, they swam to the edge of the cove. Prowl watched on, vigilant as Blue fascinated himself with the starfish and shells littered around his cove. Little curious sounds came with every new discovery. It was a refreshing to hear, the vibration of it in the water a soothing reminder that he was no longer just his own. A quick look beyond a sand dune revealed the humans beyond. Blue recoiled like a shot, fear scented the water.

"Blue." Prowl called urgently, hoping to gain the little ones' attention to return. In response to his name, the little mer returned to his side. They snuggled into him, before revealing the item they had in hand. A little red starfish was presented. "Pow" "Pow, look!" exclaimed little Blue. "FisssH" he proclaimed proudly, chest puffed out and cheeks glowy.

Fear turned to joy. The sudden change in mood was like whiplash to Prowl.

Prowl couldn't help but laugh with mirth. "Starfish, Blue." "That is a starfish", he gently corrected. Taking the creature from their hands and placing it on the sand. "StaArfisH" Blue parroted, swimming around the little thing. With his unspent energy, Blue went out to the edge of the cove in search of more things to show "Pow", looking back occasionally to check that Prowl was still there watching him. It was comically affectionate. With each item shown to him, another starfish, a piece of kelp, an unfortunate small fish, affection slowly wrapped their tendrils around Prowl's spark.

It has been 55 cycles since he had any decent company, and despite the circumstance, he was glad to have Blue here with him.

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Horray! This fic now has a name, and a new face.

Previous

Jazz's first steps was to do a perimeter check around the island he was duty bound too that served as one of five entry ways down to Cybertron. Internally, he cursed. With 5 cycles down the drain, any biological traces of Prowl's whereabouts were all but gone with the currents. Despite the odds, it didn't take long for him to find his first clue.

Just 10 miles off the coast, there were bodies in the water. Dead Humans, five in total bloated with varying degrees of decay all submerged around a large pool of oil. If the smell didn't indicate that the event had happened quite a while ago, the flock of seagulls living and dead trapped in the oily black said it all.

All that filth in the water. Disgusting.

Feeling lucky, Jazz dived. Mabye he should turn that luck into misfortune. What Jazz found only concerned him more. There was a sunken dinghy sitting wedged between two large rocks. A large gash opened the left air sac, the decisive cause of the sinking. Jazz reached to flip the boat over, and uncovered the damning logo engraved into the nylon: MECH.

A growl escaped his throat. Frag, Jazz’s fears only grew. Prowl was in more danger than he thought.

MECH was a known mer-hunting organisation responsible for kidnapping many of their kind. They were a thorn in the Autobot's and less so the Decepticon's side. Both factions have only been made aware of MECH's presence 5 years ago, before that the organisation having only been targeting neutral pods who had no real connection to the two major factions. This meant that both factions had been late to the party. Only learning about any kidnapping occurrences through the traumatic tales of Nails seeking aid and recovery.

The Autobots were quickly set on the case, with Prowl having worked with the search and rescue teams before he was kicked from his seat behind Bumblebee. It was also how the island guard that Jazz had joined was set up. But even when he was around, most cases had been slow in progress, the events having been too long ago to trace back too. For now it seemed, once caught no one had really had any progress in finding their kin again.

Until Jazz!

The boat was relatively intact and just his luck! the dinghy was registered! Jazz had his lead. Taking the registry plate off of the wreck, Jazz made swift work of getting back to shore. He hacked Red Alert's comm in the process.

‘Ay Red my mech, got a situation ya might wanna know bout.’

‘JAZZ, fragging pit. HOW DID YOU GET MY COMM. I SWEAR to Primus, when I see you….’

‘Chill mech, this was bad, MECH has managed to come so close to one of our groundbridges. Da pacific one. It’s a miracle the humans had missed the site completely.’

The comm was silent, Jazz could just imagine the sparks coming off of that mech's helm.

Jazz hesitated a moment before adding on, 'MECH has Prowl.' This time a fizzle came through the comm.

Needing to snap Red out of it, Jazz pushed on. 'RED I need ya with meh mech! I need ya ta check the proximity alarms around the island, why had none of 'em raised da alarm.' Those alarms were designed to hone in on the biological signatures unique to only humans 500 miles offshore. Them not working was a HUGE issue. No one had known of the MECH's presence.

All except Prowl, and it seemed he paid the price. Jazz bristled at the thought.

'A weak 'On it.' was heared through the comm. It seemed that Red was still with the him.

Shaking the residue water off his frame as he reached the shoreline, Jazz gave Red his second task, 'I also need ya ta run this plate for me, on the human's boat registry system.' He sent the snapshot of the plate he took over the commline. 'Received' was all Red Alert replied. All there was left to do was await a response.

The trek to the groundbrigde was but a quick 5 minute hike up a steep cliff. The machine itself disguised as a old tree. Jazz placed his hand onto the thick bark of the plant, a flash of spark energy later, the bark began splitting open to reveal the relatively small portal. Jazz stepped through, entering into Cybertron's Pacific transport hub built 5000 meters under the island. As the portal sealed shut behind him, Jazz navigated the relatively crowded hub towards a Bay B. His private (long stolen) shuttle awaited.

Jazz stopped just short of entering the vehicle. Though the docking bay itself was empty, the air around the entrance was warm. Someone was HERE. A shift in airflow. There! Without hesitation, Jazz whipped out his blade, feeling the sensation of pinning someone into the wall of his ship.

Jazz smiled big. 'Now, I would love ta stay and have a good ole fashion brawl but I'm in a bit of a rush ta get somewhere, so I suggest yall scram before I decide to kill y'all.', he threatened, field bristled and harsh with murderous intent. Spanning out his field, he brushed across five different ones, each with different amounts of anxiousness and suppressed fear in them. It didn't take a genius to figure who had crashed Jazz's party.

A snarky voice rang out of thin air, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about fighting?' Various voices rose up with mumurs of placating agreements as the once empty looking docking bay shimmered with distorted light, revealing five green and purple octopus mers cramped into his hanger bay. The Constructicons were standing shoulder to shoulder within the cramped space. Jazz had Scavenger held at knifepoint, the edge of the blade placed threateningly close to the mers throat cables. Scavenger had his servos raised in surrender. The group were stuck frozen in place, a level of fear teeking into their fields. Jazz smirked, GOOD, they should fear him, after all the harm they done to Prowl.

'What's ya lot of drunk slagtards doing in my ship? Ain't yall got some building to demolish somewhere?', Jazz spoke, hints of annoyance sinking through. He had better things to do than corral drunk mers off to the medbay.

Hook never the one to take insults lying down was first to speak up, 'HEY, we ain't drunk! We only had 3 cubes at Maccadams last night cycle.' Scavenger and Long haul nodded along. Bonecrusher seemed to have other ideas though, field revved with jittery energy, he glowered at Jazz. 'Well what's it to you short stuff? Let Scavenger go! We found this ship fair and square. If it's a fight you want, it's a fight y'all get.' Jazz smile turned strained, steeling himself for a fight he flexed the knife into scavenger throat cables, said mer squirmed. A drop of energon was forming. Bonecrusher's scowl deepened and flexed his fists, he was about to step towards Jazz with dumb violent intent, Hook, Scavenger and Long haul all telling him to stop when suddenly Mixmaster who had been quiet the entire time put out his arm to stop Bonecrusher's advance. The other three mers held their breath.

Behind his visor, Jazz raised a brow. Bonecrusher whipped back at Mixmaster in disbelieved anger, 'What the frag mech?! Let me at em!' Mixmaster only stared at Bonecrusher more intently. Jazz silently wondered if the mer was high on circuit boosters, the mer was leveling Bonecrusher the heaviest of poker faces. It was very un-Mixmaster like. Bonecrusher shouted out in disbelief looking between Jazz and Mixmaster, 'What do you mean he can help us?'

Ah, Jazz released the breathe he was holding, so bond-speak was in play. Mixmaster only gave his brethren a slight nod before facing Jazz again. He spoke with a clarify that shooked Jazz. 'We apologise. We didn't know this ship was yours, none of the ship vendors were willing to rent a shuttle to ex- decepticons. We are simply trying to find Prowl.' The other Constructicons looked at him as if Mixmaster had grown a second helm but nodded along to his statement.

All the anxiety he lost came back to Jazz. 'What makes ya think Prowl is in danger, let alone if he would want to be found by the likes of ya?', Jazz grounded out. The Constructicons spelt trouble, they also knew that Prowl was missing when even Prowl's Autobot brethren were in the dark about it. Why were they seeking Prowl out? Too hurt him? Drag him back into their fold back to the decepticons? The image of Prowl injured that night came back to him.

Mixmaster only moved to put his servo on his spark casing. 'When we first formed Devastator with Prowl, his spark merged with ours. While still small, he formed a bond with us.' Mixmaster paused. 'We felt his pain five cycles ago, but he wouldn't allow us to do anything to help him.' His gaze turned somber. 'The bond weakens with distance. We know he has been taken. Now, all we can feel is that he is alive somewhere in the vast.' Mixmaster turned to eye Jazz's knife hand.

'We know that he went to you that night. That he hates us. That he doesn't want anything to do with us.' Mixmaster reached out to gentle grip Jazz's knife hand. Scavenger let out the tiniest meep as the pressure was relieved from his vital systems.

Mer's got some ball bearing on 'em, Jazz thought growing steadily unsure of the Constructicon's no Mixmaster's motives.

Mixmaster's gaze became smouldering. 'But I think you and I both know that Prowl needs help. Gestalt is gestalt, we stick together no matter what. You're going to find Prowl am I right? I propose a truce. You might have a lead we don't, and we might have a link you need.' Jazz's smile was gone, replaced with a deep frown. The air was thick then with anticipation, the Constructicons silent looked to Jazz awaiting his response.

Jazz's mind was racing with possibilities. It would definitely help to have a living beacon and extra manpower. But, he wasn't so naive to think they didn't have other reasons to seek out Prowl. Jazz couldn't risk it. Not with this. Just as he was about to deny their help, his comm broke the tense silence. Jazz put two digits to his helm to answer it. Red Alert's voice welcomed him on the other side, 'Jazz I've found MECH's flagship. Designation: The Whispering Ghost. I've tracked their movements from the last several days. Last known dock was in Southampton the United kingdom 4 cycles ago at 03:57 BST. They are currently on course back to the Atlantic.' Red Alert voiced quieted with concern. 'Judging by their trajectory, they heading straight for our waters.' 'Our island.'

Jazz could here the sparks fizzle, 'THIS IS BAD! I think we're compromised Jazz we have to tell Optimus!' Red Alert said. Jazz had come to the same conclusion. His gaze turned resolutely towards the mers that gave him so much grief.

Looks like these fraggers might be of some use to him after all. 'Do it,' Jazz said. Jazz lowered the his knife from Scavengers throat, flicking the energon off in disgust before subspacing it. Jazz then stormed pass the Constructicons further into the ship raising his servo to motion them to follow. Scavenger squeaked out a sign of relief, nearly tripping over himself running to Hook to have his throat looked at. Mixmaster was smiling like the cat that got the cream. It irked Jazz, he curtly replied into his comms, 'Tell OP ta start prepping for a potential groundbridge breach.'

He reached the cockpit and began fiddling with the controls prepping the vessel for take off. As the ship was slowly onlining for their flight, outside in the bay hanger a portal was opening, leading straight to the open sky above their island. Jazz addressed Red through the comm, 'Y'all need ta assign a new guard for this site.'

'What?! Why? Where are you going?', Red Alert asked.

'To kill a Mockingbird,' was Jazz smooth reply. Confused mumbles turned to dissuading shouts from Red's end of the line. Jazz got comfy in his seat, checking through his peripheral to see if the slaggers he brought on board were settling yet.

Scavenger's neck was patched, with him seated next to Hook in the ship's narrow hanger. Long Haul and Bonecrusher must be elsewhere on the ship. Hopefully those slaggers ain't messing with his energon stores. Mixmaster being the biggest of the gang didn't quite fit into a seat and had chosen to sit on the floor of the ship.

Mixmaster's optics never left Jazz's.

'I have to bring him home Red', Jazz said. Breaking optics contact to focus on steering the ship. Engine primed, he raised the ship to a hover aligning it with the growing portal. A clear view of the sky thought it.

It was a red dawn, the faintest light of day arriving to their hemisphere.

It reminded him of a certain red Chevron in the morning light. 'If I don't make it back in an orn's time, lock down the island. Ya copy Red?'

'Crystal, may Primus light your path Jazz.' Red replied. Quietly, he added, 'Bring him home alive.'

'Ya know me Red, I always will. Over and Out.'

'Over and Out.', the line clicked shut signalling the end of the call. Jazz steered the ship forward through and out of the portal, charting a course for the United kingdom.

Once at a high enough altitude, Jazz turned the cloaking device on and set the ship to Autopilot. Some point during the climb, all the constructicons had gathered once again into the small hanger bay. Jazz smile curled in annoyance. There was a cube in Bonecrushers servo.

Itchy servos that one had.

Addressing them all, Jazz said. 'I'm gon be honest, I don 't even trust yall as far as I can throw ya. But, for Prowl's sake I'll accept ya Lil truce but we gon be playing things my way.'

Hook opened his intake to retort, as Jazz showed off his fangs. He quickly adding, 'Careful, one wrong move and I'll end ya sorry afts.' Hook closed his intake

Jazz's visor flashed with manic glee, 'Now, onto more exciting plans. First agenda on the Finding Prowl objective. What da y'all say ta some good ole revenge on MECH?' reaching out his hand in a beginnings of a handshake.

The Constructicons didn't even hesitate, smiles going deviously wide and fields revved with malice. Mixmaster rose and clasped hands with Jazz, mirth and malice intoxicatingly entwined.

'We think it would be a devastatingly good time.'

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Previous

Yay! You have found: the Constructicons!

Hopefully Jazz doesn't rip em a new one.

Next chapter will focus more on Prowl and Blue.

Never really written stuff before but this idea was stuck on me so I've put it out in bullet point form.

I'm looking for mabye someone to give me more ideas on this one, cause I only have certain scenes in my mind.

This is very much a setting-the-scene chapter, I have 2 more written-ish coming.

If anyone interested please message me.

Chapter 1: The capture.

Open on the wild kelp forest, sunny waters where the light filters the sands in rays of colour.

Chapter 4 - To find reason -

Somewhere in remote Alaskan shores -

With every cycle, the growing unease in Jazz's spark grew a little more. He tried to put on a smile around the others. Tried to enjoy their company in hunting and nesting. But in the quiet moments, just like this one lounging on the beach that sheltered their secret home, Jazz can't help but feel like he should have done more.

It had been 5 cycles since the fight that had bled their home waters red. 5 cycles since Prowl went missing. 5 cycles in which no one had seen tail or hide of Optimus prime. Said mer had shut himself away in his cave. Only Ratchet was allowed into his abode. Whether this seclusion was in shame or respite or neither Jazz didn't care to much pry.

Eyes trained to the far horizon towards the low ball of the sun, Jazz's thoughts returned to that night 5 cycles ago.

Jazz had just gotten off a gig at Maccadam's. Prowl had lost an eye in the fight, body littered in deep gouges, the blood loss must have been severe, yet the daft mer hadn't gone to see Ratchet or any of the other healers in the pod. Instead, the bastard had beached himself on the edge of Jazz's nest. ABOVE WATER. Jazz in the late hour had decided against sending Prowl away, going through the hardship of sealing Prowl's wounds to the best of his ability. Prowl was too delirious to have any sort of meaningful conversation with.

When the deed was done, Jazz had gone to bed with Prowl asleep in the low tide beside him, and as he awoke with the first rays Prowl was gone.

Bleeding and injured, to go into the vast alone was dangerous. One mer however strong was no match against the fullness of the ocean.

Prowl was a prickly mech, snarky as hell but Jazz had never wished ill on him.

During the war, they had their moments. A rescue here, a quick diversion there. They could work together relatively well thoughts aside, saved each other's asses once or twice. A sneaky drink in the night, a secret shared. After the war, Jazz had chosen to stay out of the limelight where Prowl had chose to stay in it. Prowl wanted to try and govern Cybertron their now sleeping world underneath the waves. Above them, out of the political circle, Jazz lived as he always done, on the whims of life's simple pleasures. Maccadams always needed a bassist for performance nights.

The glimpses he caught of Prowl were brief and fleeting but yet he had noticed a change in Prowl. He should have called it sooner.

Prowl had acted like a mer possessed, more controlling, more angry. It had rubbed Jazz in all the wrong ways. Jazz had brushed it off, believing in the petty words of hate that others strung of Prowl.

Now, Jazz wondered why no one else had seen it. The mind control. Living the civy life must have made him rusty. The cycle Prowl went missing, Jazz got to snooping. It seems he had learned the news far too late. Prowl had been changed. Mind raped. Under Megatron's orders. The events of Shockwave's near-successful genocide probably hadn't helped the mer at all. That night of celebrating Cybertron's victory over Shockwave's death was the night of Megatron's plea of pardon. The public resolution of the decepticon pod. The night Optimus struck Prowl.

Jazz ain't got it in him to determine who was more right than wrong. But, Prowl. The image of his face leaking energon, teared fins, the marred eye. Wars over, Jazz had never seen a mer so stricken, PROWL so stricken with hurt and betrayal. Yet Jazz in holding his face to better clean the wound saw that Prowl's gaze still held a flicker of life. A broken mer Prowl may be, but with some help. Jazz truly believed he could get better.

The light of the evening was growing dim. Jazz rose from his spot on the beach. One last moment before he left for the depths beyond.

It has been 5 cycles, and Prowl hasn't returned. No one else seemed to care. No one else seemed bothered to look.

Jazz didn't know why but Prowl came to him for help. He didn't know why he left either. Call it heroism, curiosity, a funny gut feeling even, but Jazz felt like he needed to find out. Prowl had been hurting and is still hurting out there in the vast ocean. Prowl was calling out for help and Jazz was gonna answer.

He was going to find Prowl and bring him home.

Previous

Next

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Thank you for all the comments! - If anyone asks where Prowl's many scars are - say modern medicine. Or just imagine him more scarred up. Wish i had that kind of derma care.

Hi everyone who has been waiting for a new chapter of Finding Prowl.

This is not a new chapter, BUT it is a new way to read my fic.

I have changed things slightly, so I recommend you read chapter 1. I apologise if it's getting annoying that I keep changing things.

I hope you have fun reading it.

Chapter 2: New housing

Here's the second part of it - I kinda written in a very werid style haha. Again Ideas are welcome - I wanna meet more people who can help me here.

The little one couldn’t tell how long they were stuck in the holding tank. At least, they feed him. But, it only came once a day, not that the little could tell the time. It left them tired and sore.