surprise reunion au Prowl and Cade talk?
It hurt so much. Prowl's spark pulsed violently in his chassis. He had been so relieved to see Barricade, so grateful to have been saved. When he had seen Barricade's fury Prowl had felt like sweet justice was a moment away, Barricade would thrash Sideways but Barricade had turned that fury onto him and Prowl had been stunned, not quite to silence but to stammering as his brother had laid bare a lifetime of faults and complaints he had collected against Prowl. The only mechanism who had ever had anything good to say about Prowl and meant it had not meant it at all.
"I don't think he believes that anymore," Jazz offered. To Prowl's disgust, he could not help but sniffle. It was better than blubbering, but barely.
"He told me how he really felt," Prowl said. Jazz took Prowl's servo and squeezed it.
"Or he took all the things he knew would hurt ya, 'cause he knew ya well, 'n through them at ya when he was mad 'n hurtin'," Jazz suggested. "It's been a long time since ya seen each other."
"He told me to never show my face again," Prowl replied. "I listened."
"I think he regrets it," Jazz said. "He knows exactly what Sideways is now. 'N I think he regrets every cruel glyph he lashed ya wit."
"If he did not believe them anymore he has had stellar-cycles, even vorns to express this change of spark to me," Prowl replied. "He has not."
"Maybe cause Cade was Cade 'n he runs from hurts, runs while he hurts," Jazz replied. "Don't think the mech ever looks back."
"Maybe," Prowl said. Jazz smiled and it was a nice smile.
"Listen, if ya really don't wanna go 'n see what he has to say, I'll walk ya home," Jazz offered. "If he acts like an aft, I'll walk ya home. Don't think he will or nothin' but if he do, I'll get ya outta there."
"Okay," Prowl said. "I miss him."
The bar was empty save for slim blue racer and a short, not stout but not slender Polihexian who were doing prep work at the bar, when they returned and Prowl turned to leave but Jazz held fast to his servo. It was... not surprising that they would not stand around waiting. His kin would not have wanted Barricade to stand on his peds for long. That bitlet had been small, freshly emerged without question. Bitlet and originator would be easily tired and terribly delicate.
"Come on upstairs," Jazz cajoled. "Ya wanna meet yer nephew, right?"
"There is an uptairs," Prowl said. "A habsuite and not offices above a bar?"
"It's got good soundproofin'," Jaz said. "Come on, Sweetlin'."
Jazz let Prowl through the kitchen to a hidden stairwell. Prowl was nervous of climbing it, afraid of what he would find at the top. When he hesitated, Jazz took his servo and tugged gently, encouraging Prowl up each step. Barricade had a bitlet. It may have been a mistake to come back, Prowl did not want his brother or nephew to suffer some illness or injury due to stress. Before Prowl could seize on this thought train, Jazz opened the door at the top of the stairs and tugged Prowl through it.
"Prowl!" Barricade exclaimed. Jazz released Prowl's servo and Prowl started to raise his servos, not wanting to be a source of stress for his brother. Barricade's arms wrapped around Prowl and his processor stopped dead.
