robothell | (no subject)

Who: Prowl & YOU?
Where: Somewhere in the city
When: A day or so after giving Verity a concussion
What: Prowl has a few robot papercuts and bruises to patch up; he also searches the fuck out of Verity's apartment
Warnings: Asshole ahoy, and some self repair

A.
With relatively minor injuries, there was nothing stopping Prowl from continuing his pursuit of the Aequitas data once Verity had escaped and he was left alone. No repurposed debris or improvised lock was left unturned as he searched her apartment via holoform. Being able to Sherlock-sense his way through a room certainly helped narrow it down, but in the end his search was unfruitful.

All he'd pulled from the impromptu home were data slugs - ones that were quickly discovered to be dummies once he ran a scan of them through his systems. Leaving nearly everything as it was, nearly everything, he shifts back into vehicle mode and abandons the building.

A dead end.

B.

Eventually, Prowl allows himself a moment of reprise in a blasted out building he'd found for himself. Not the most glamorous of locations, but functional for what he needed. Somewhere to sit, be alone and tend to himself.

Prowl's wounds were minor enough that any Autobot with basic knowledge of first aid could repair them. His tools were rudimentary, but functional enough to realign some of the actuators that had been popped out of place. The pain was dull as he picked into the transformation joints of his ankle with a pair of large pliers, feeling them snap back into their anchors with a little persuasion.

Satisfied, he slides away his shoulder armor to begin to dig into his shoulder joint, unbothered by the small amount of energon still seeping out of broken lines. That should heal well enough on its own.

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Prowl's snide and slightly passive remarks don't go unnoticed, and his eyes harden as he focuses intently on the wrist Prowl is attending to, reaching out to gently take it. His hands were larger, but they were calm, holding it in place to let him work. Although he can't exactly hide the sigh that escapes his faceplate vents.

"After all this time, you still don't think I understand what you're going through." It's a little hurt, but not something Optimus will address, nor let it affect him. He's used to it.

But his voice gets that hard edge he was known for--the one Orion Pax had pretty much patented. "You attacked a human."

Yeah, he knows.

At the sudden change in tone, a sharp laugh pierces the air, though it is cold and utterly devoid of any joy,"As simplistic as you always are, Optimus. If you plan on using your bravado to get me groveling for forgiveness then save your breath."

He continues to work on the wrist, gently nudging the cable back into place and beginning to reattach it to the socket.

"I was protecting our intel - your secrets, Prime - after finding out Ironfist took it upon himself to shove undue responsibility onto someone who shouldn't have been involved at all."

The cable clicks, and he lifts his hand out of that Optimus',"Verity felt it necessary to come to violence for whatever ridiculous reason was injected into her head. I don't intend on letting myself get shot to her leisure, whatever our past may be."

Edited 2015-06-07 06:32 (UTC)

It was a laugh all too familiar to Optimus. And one that became harder to listen to, if only because it lacked the mirth it once had. Before they'd even truly become friends. "I don't expect you to apologize to me."

His eyes remain fixated on his, despite how Prowl wasn't returning the gaze. "I knew you had a reason. You've never been someone to do something like this without one." But that leads them to the next problem. "My secrets. Then don't you think you should have consulted me?"

A pause.

"Maybe it would've saved you both a trip to the medical bay."

He lets the hand go as Prowl finishes his work on it, tilting his head to get a better look. "Do you have a reason to distrust Verity?"

Prowl gives him an amused, incredulous stare,"Consulted you? When was the last time you've handled something with any actual degree of subtlety, Prime? This isn't combating Decepticons trying to take an enemy base."

The hand retracts as the armor closes over it.

"It's not a matter of trust," he says, finally,"It's a matter of cleaning up loose ends. Verity has something dark and ugly, uglier than any one campaign on Earth, and she should have never have been given the responsibility to guard it. It isn't right to put that burden on her."

"I can be subtle." It's a soft murmur, thankfully the faceplate helped in concealing that as his eyes cast away. A little huffy at the fact that his impulsive personality was the reason that kept his Second-in-Command from telling him. He trusted Prowl with a lot, but he also wanted to be informed. Whether they liked to admit it or not, they were in this together.

He's silent a moment as he listens, ear pieces flicking slightly and the round parts of his help spinning a fraction--more of an idle motion than anything. "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Prowl. And that includes the freedom to choose. We can't make choices for her, no more than I can stop you from doing your job."

There's a weary 'sigh', shoulders slumping as a hand reaches out again, to Prowl's forearm. "In this case, maybe you should take a lesson from me, and curve her behavior instead of trying to stop it. You have more in common than just a past."

Prowl stops mid-reply as Optimus attempts to hold his forearm.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stop trying to touch me," he adds in coldly, making dead eye contact with other Autobot. Pulling his arm free, he runs a finger over the patch job to make sure everything was right.

"In any case, I don't care what Verity does. I'm not trying to control her. I'm trying to retrieve something that's ours, something she should have never been given in the first place."

The reply certainly makes Optimus stop, his hands going rigid at the statement, merely hovering but still backing off. Cold eyes met Optimus's hurt ones, wishing there was something he COULD do. Not for the injuries, his mother-henning was a distraction. But more that Prowl was now trapped in the war even after it had ended.

The one who wanted nothing to do with it now had it consume his life.

And Optimus only stood by and watched.

"But she WAS given it, Prowl. Something you might not have known, or anticipated, but it happened. And taking it from her is not going to work."