Chapter Text
1 decacycle and 2.4 cycles post capture
Prowl supposed that if there was a fate worse than death, then he's living it. Currently locked in a nondescript cell somewhere on Nemesis, Prowl stared up at the ceiling and hoped. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what he was hoping for; it fluctuated often between being saved and hoping for the sweet embrace of death. Regardless of what flavor his fantasy took, the sentiment was the same. More than anything Prowl did not want to be here anymore. It wasn't that being a Decepticon prisoner was some horrid experience, no, Prowl hadn't seen a single interrogation room or torture method. In reality his stay for the past few cycles had been weirdly pleasant. Medics had been sent to care for him, he'd been given full energon rations, Pits the guards were talking to him about the weather. It was obvious to him that the Decepticons were attempting to be kind, most likely in an attempt to recruit him rather than kill him. Prowl had assumed that at the very least they would have attempted to torture or extract information out of him about the Autobots. Unfortunately, it seemed that Megatron had assumed that attempting to bring him into their fold was a more lucrative approach.
Prowl thought about the whole mess, it wasn't the worst strategy. In theory if he turned Decepticon there would be no reason to torture information out of him as he would provide it willingly. The glaring issue was that Prowl would rather choke down his own doorwings than betray his fellow Autobots. Which led him to his current predicament. Prowl lay miserably on this cell floor as both sides were at an impasse. The Decepticons wanted him, and he wanted out.
He laid his legs out in front of him staring at the scuffs on his pedes. Prowl ran multiple scenarios in his head to kill time, there was a high chance that the Autobots would attempt to rescue him (92%) which comforted Prowl. However, there was an even higher chance of Optimus attempting some peaceful alternative (98%) which pissed Prowl off. Those weren't the only numbers that ran in his processor, he knew the Decepticons would continue to try to recruit him but eventually their patience would run out and they would find that Prowl would not be so easily swayed (99.8%). As a result they were most likely to resort to violence and threats - perhaps the torture that Prowl was expecting to experience (95%). Prowl could only hope that his colleagues would come get him before things got worse.
---
3 orns post capture
Optimus Prime sat slightly and watched as Jazz paced back and forth in his office. He wanted to console his friend but knew that any words of comfort would bounce off. The best approach it seemed was to sit and allow Jazz to tire himself out with his pacing.
"So." Jazz started, "You're trying to tell me that I can’t go save Prowl, not even under the table all unofficial by myself."
"Unfortunately, that is correct," Optimus Prime replied.
"And the reason I can't go and save the Autobot Second in Command and Chief Tactical Officer is because we are all sitting on our afts waiting for Megatron to agree to a peaceful transfer. Megatron. With Prowl," Jazz stopped his pacing and turned to Optimus Prime with both palms pressed together. "Mech, are you stupid?"
Optimus Prime held out his servos in a placating gesture that only served to piss Jazz off more. He was not some Earth horse, he was a very reasonably upset mech. "Jazz, we have to hope-"
"HOPE?!" Jazz felt the urge to smack the Prime in the head, "I'd love to hope all day OP, but I ain't crazy! In what world do you think Megatron is going to give us Prowl back for anything less than your life!"
"We have to hope that Megatron can be reasoned with," Optimus Prime continued. "If there is a way to resolve conflict peacefully then we must try." Jazz shook his head. Optimus was lucky Prowl wasn't here, because if he was he would be ripping Prime a new one already.
Frustrated, Jazz sighed and crossed his arms tight against his frame. If Prowl were here Jazz wouldn't be stuck here listening to the stupidest argument he's ever heard. Now, say what you want about the Autobot way and all mech's being worth the same, and Jazz is a firm believer in all of Optimus' rhetoric, but the truth was some mechs were more important than others. At least to Jazz, he could admit that he might be a bit biased. Regardless, Prowl was - is important the Autobots needed him, Jazz needed him. So it was driving Jazz up the wall to see Optimus treating this situation as any old prisoner exchange and not like one of the most important mechs to the Autobots was sitting in some dark cell 20,000 leagues under the sea on the Decepticon warship.
"What if Megatron never agrees, what then?" Jazz asked.
"If Megatron shows that he cannot be reasoned with then we will go and retrieve Prowl. That I can promise."
All the assurance in the world meant nothing to Jazz. "And when do we decide we've done our best, that Megatron's had all his chances? How many deca-cycles are we going to waste waiting?" Jazz felt his pumps go and his fans start to click on as he began to fret. Worst case scenarios started to fill his processor. The thing was, Jazz knew Soundwave and Jazz knew the Decepticons interrogation methods. For Primus's sake he's the fragging head of SpecOps! He's seen the condition mechs return from their time in the Nemesis and his spark can't help but worry for Prowl. Sure Prowl's a tough mech but he hasn't been on the field in vorns, normally he's safe in the Ark.
"Jazz," Optimus pleaded, "I need you to listen to me, trust that I too wish to see Prowl home safe." Optimus rose from his seat and placed a comforting servo on Jazz's shoulder.
Jazz nodded and sighed, "Yeah."
Too worked up to say more Jazz left it at that. He excused himself from Optimus's office; he needed to go for a ride, clear his head, then figure out how to get Prowl back.
---
1 decacycle, 2.6 cycles, and 17 breems post capture
Prowl had almost finished counting the individual cracks in the cell wall and sorting them by level of severity and damage to overall structural integrity when he heard the sound of thrusters clicking. He bit back a groan as he forced himself to continue his wall crack catalogue, if he ignored the seeker then hopefully Starscream would leave. Doubtful, but Prowl was desperate.
Luck continued to betray him.
The steps stopped in front of his cell and sharp claws curled around the bars. "You know eventually they're going to kill you, right?" Starscream leered down at Prowl. Prowl did not respond. Starscream took this as an opening to continue.
"Honestly, I don't see the worth. If you ask me, Soundwave's gone and lost his processor completely thinking you might be of any use to us. I mean, clearly you mean nothing to the Autobots seeing as you're still here." Starscream leaned away from the bars pretending to inspect his claws for any imperfection. Prowl could barely contain an eyeroll. What a loser, truly. Prowl wouldn't play so easily in the most obvious scheme to get under his plating he had ever seen. Starscream wasn't done.
"Well, between you and me, recruiting you is a lie. Soundwave wants to get his hands on Jazz and you're his easiest in. If he has you, well," Starscream gestured towards Prowl. "You're smart enough to figure it out."
Prowl sat up and glared at the seeker over his shoulder. "Jealous?"
Starscream's wings rose into a furious "V" shape before settling. "Jealous of what? Being bait?"
"You tell me, I'm not the one wasting my time taunting prisoners. Guests? I am confused about what my label is here."
"Plaything might be apt," Starscream helpfully clarifies, "there isn't anything a grounder like you could have that I would be jealous of." Prowl felt the Seekers judging gaze roam over his frame. "Especially with a finish like yours."
Prowl locked optics with the Seeker. Really? What were they, sparklings? There was nothing wrong with Prowl's finish or his paint job, thank you very much. It was practical and easy to maintain! Prowl, decided that he had already gone and lost his processor earlier in the deca-cycle, continued to goad Starscream.
"Surely, you see, with my skills Megatron would want me in high command by his side. Perhaps I would be useful enough to take your sport. Between you and me it's quite the no brainer," he explained.
Starscream let out a nasty, humorless laugh. "Unless you can fly as well as I can and look nearly as good as I do doing it, I don't think I have anything to worry about. If anything you'd take Soundwave's position." He cocked his hip with a malicious smile as he continued to look down on Prowl. "If you're lucky and Soundwave has his way, that position might be on top of Jazz."
Prowl had to lock his doorwings in place, he refused to react to that statement.
"Regardless," Starscream shrugged, "if I had my way we'd be done with stupid charade with a blaster through your helm." Prowl felt an odd sense of relief that Starscream shared his thoughts. How unsettling.
Silence settled between them as Prowl refused to respond. Starscream slid down the wall to a seated position. He clearly wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere, Prowl predicted that there was a high chance (76%) that Starscream was trying to avoid some sort of responsibility by being here. Well, it wasn't like Prowl had anywhere to go, but he had no desire to talk. Starscream wasn't an idiot. Prowl was well aware they both knew that this plot was never going to work. Seeing that Starscream had decided to let the conversation end, Prowl turned back to the cracks he had been categorizing.
Joors later, when Starscream finally returned to work, Prowl reflected his absence. As strange as it was, the company wasn't too bad so long as the company at hand didn't talk.
---
3 orns post capture
Jazz returned from his drive long after the night shift took over. He was sore down to the protoform, the cords and struts in his frame ached as he transformed back into root mode. Jazz grimaced, he could feel the phantom pains of Ratchet’s wrench slamming into his helm. He’d been told repeatedly by the medic to take it slow.
He checked his HUD to see what his levels were at when he was bombarded with messages from multiple bots. Whoops. He quickly cleared them all, not bothering to read them. If they were important enough, he'd find the message in his work inbox. A quick glance at his chronometer showed him how long he was out. Whoops again.
He paused outside the entrance to the Ark and looked back out onto the horizon. He could go no one was there to stop him. But he was tired and he needed a plan first. He continued to linger for a few more vents, collecting himself then dragged his pedes back in.
Immediately he caught sight of a bright yellow frame. Bumblebee greeted him with a smile and pushed himself off the wall where he was waiting.
"Jazz! Hey! Where've you been?!" Bee asked as he matched pace with the other mech. If Bumblebee noticed Jazz's sour mood he didn't comment on it.
Jazz gave a weak smile back. "Sorry mech, didn't know you was waiting on me. Would've called."
Bumblebee snorted. "No you wouldn't."
Don't say Bee didn't know a mech, Jazz thought. "Yeah," Jazz replied.
They continued to walk in silence towards his hab. Bumblebee clearly had something he wanted to say to Jazz and was doing a horrible job concealing it between the constant fidgeting and unsubtle side glances. The cords under Jazz’s shoulder plates tensed, the longer this went on, his servos clenched tightly.
Bee didn't deserve Jazz's ire. Jazz in-vented and let out a strut deep ex-vent. "Listen Bee, I'll catch up with you tomorrow, had a long day and-"
"I WANNA COME WITH YOU TO SAVE PROWL!" Bumblebee blurted out. Jazz stared at him, his boiling anger dissipated as his body recoiled in shock. Jazz cycled his optics and stared at Bumblebee.
What.
"What?"
"You're going to save Prowl right?" Bumblebee asked. Jazz felt like this conversation was starting a little out of order.
Jazz made his best effort to reel in the conversation quickly; he didn't need Bee or any other Bot to think Jazz was moving behind Optimus's back. He shook his helm. "Optimus hasn't approved a rescue mission he's trying ta do a peaceful-" Bumblebee interrupted him again.
"Hand off yeah, I heard." Bumblebee crossed his arms across his chassis and looked Jazz dead in the optics. "That means fuck all to you and you know it."
"Hey, who taught you that word?" It was probably Spike, Jazz thought.
"Not important, don't deflect" Bumblebee countered. "Point is, I know you. And I know you and Prowl like to pretend what Optimus says doesn't always apply to you two. Meaning you're probably going off to save Prowl by yourself." Bumblebee rolled his shoulder plates back, puffed out his armor and held his helm high as he said, “I want in."
"No."
Bumblebee immediately deflated and stomped his pede like a tantruming sparkling. "Why not!?"
"Because," Jazz started in a warning tone, his patience clearly wearing thin, "if I'm going to do something stupid, ain’t gonna drag anyone down with me."
Bee threw his servos up. "If you're going to do something stupid that's exactly why you need back up!" Bee leaned forward and held his servos out pleading. "C'mon, I can be your road dog."
Who is teaching him these words? "Mech, what are you saying to me right now?"
"Y'know, your road dog, your homie, your partner in crime!" Bumblebee explained, or tried to at least.
"Do I look like Batman to you?"
"I mean-"
Jazz cut him off quickly, "Don't answer that."
Bumblebee groaned. "C'mon Jazz! Let me sit shotgun on your grand trip to save Prowl! Please!"
"Bee, I'm going to be real with you." Jazz gripped Bee's outstretched servos and Bee looked at him with bright hopeful eyes. "No."
"But!"
"No."
Jazz stepped away from Bee and towards his hab but Bee stepped back in the way. He tried again to reason with his superior officer. "Jazz, listen, jokes aside, you can’t go alone."
Jazz vented a sharp burst of hot air. "Bee, I get it, I do, but if I go save Prowl I can't endanger anyone else. Prime won’t forgive me."
"He's gonna be pissed regardless."
Jazz was really tired and Bee was clearly not going to give up. "Fine. Fine, yes. You can come but don't say I didn't try ta keep you safe, mech."
Bee gasped. "REALLY?!" he shouted. Jazz slapped a servo over Bee's intake and held a digit over his derma to shush him. Bee gave Jazz an apologetic look before Jazz removed his servo. "Really?" he said again, much quieter this time.
"Yeah, fine you can come along. Let me recharge, make a plan, and we can leave next night cycle. Tell no one, and for the love of Primus, please act normal."
Bee threw him a salute. "Yessir!" he moved out of Jazz's way with a jubilant pep in his step. "Recharge well!"
Jazz squinted at the bright disposition of the scout. "Yeah, night"
Jazz finally made his way into his hab and threw himself down on his berth. Sorry Bee, Jazz was absolutely going to leave first thing in the morning. He couldn't wait any longer to get Prowl back. Three orns was long enough.