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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All things said and done, he still had a solemn respect for the little yellow vehicle that appears in his periphery. Subtly, the snarl of his engine softens, the tension and strain present in every bolt and plate on his body relaxes, just slightly. Whether or not Bee disagreed with what he was doing, he still accepted his company.

There's a stretch of silence after the greeting. Understatement indeed.

"It's been a long time since I haven't been frustrated," he remarks irritably.

Prowl is going to do what he wants to do. That's just the way of things. Bumblebee knows this and, while he really wishes things would be different, he realizes there's little that he can do about it. If no one noticing that he had been under the influence of the Decepticons hadn't shaken him, then Bee doubts anything the does or says will.

"Oh? You mean you weren't sparked that way?"

Bee teases. He's likely one of the only ones that can get away with it. In reality, he does remember a time where Prowl had been less frustrated.

"Are you going to make me play games to ask you what's going on?"

Prowl doesn't laugh at the joke. But then again, it's also been a long time since he's laughed at anything.

"Just cleaning up our mistakes, per the usual. Only with the new addition of sloppy handiwork that should have been taken care of years ago."

Of course he doesn't. Bee doesn't expect him to. Granted, he kind of had a hope that he'd at least get some kind of huff or the equivalent of a glare. One can dream.

"There shouldn't be any mistakes here for you to attend to," Bumblebee muses, more to himself than Prowl. "Even if there was, what good is t going to do? Would anyone even care?"

"Do you really think just because we're on another world that we won't find a reason to start killing each other again?"

Prowl is so optimistic is it any wonder what he's so well liked?

"There's always something for me to attend to."

To be fair, at least Bee knows it's just how Prowl works. He doesn't always agree with it, but what friends ever do? So there's a humorless laugh coming from the little yellow car.

"I'm not that naive. I expect us to find something to fight about because that's what we do. We can't let go or move on."

That's the sad truth.

"I just worry about you, I guess."

Edited 2015-06-14 15:43 (UTC)

Prowl actually slows to a stop to rise back into his bipedal mode. Worrying about him. It's been a while since he's gotten that sentiment out of someone.

The acrid bite to his voice softens.

"You don't need to do that. I have it under control."

Once Prowl stops, Bee swings around in front of him. He also changes forms. Bumblebee has to look up to him now, but that's never really bothered him. He shakes his head at Prowl's words, making sure Prowl notices that Bee is giving the other a once over. Yes, he sees those injuries and he scoffs.

It's as if to say 'that's not under control.' However, Bee doesn't say it. He doesn't actually need to and, frankly speaking, that's not really his point anyway. Prowl is just going to do what he's always done.

"There's really no need about it. You're my friend and friends have this thing where they worry about the people that they care about. I know it's a hard concept for you to grasp, but you're stuck with it either way," he says instead. "Besides... You're kind of one of the only ones I've got. I'd kind of like to keep you around."