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Prowl sat on a bench in the quiet room, the sleepy sparkling curled up in his lap, Jazz on his right rubbing his back tenderly. They both wanted to leave this place to find somewhere to rest, but first they needed to hear the results of the tests.
Everyone had made quite a fuss when they realised a survivor had been found, and the commotion had terrified the little one. Eventually some Enforcers had taken charge and escorted them away to an abandoned warehouse which had been converted into a makeshift hospital. The original plan had been for it to house the survivors found while they were treated, but instead it was more of a morgue.
A Praxian pediatrician had been found - having been visiting Altihex at the time of the attack - and he had done various tests, complicated by the fact that the sparkling would not be separated from Prowl. Jazz had held off everyone else: explaining firstly to the Enforcers, then to the medics, then finally to the media how they had done what no-one else had managed. More search parties had been organised and sent out, hope renewed for further survivors.
The sound of the door opening made the sparkling whimper and cling tighter even in his sedation. Prowl rubbed slow circles on his back comfortingly, watching as the medic pulled up a chair and sat down.
"Well, the news is very good: he is not physically harmed. He is underfuelled and poorly charged, but beyond that all he needs is a good wash."
Prowl exchanged an anxious look with Jazz.
"Then why can he not speak?"
"He can."
Jazz shook his head.
"No. He couldn't even cry out when he first saw us. There must be some damage to his vocaliser."
"Our tests show everything is fully functional. Most likely it is just shock, he has been through a terrible ordeal, but with proper care I'm sure he will begin to speak again soon."
"So we can take him home, then?" Prowl concluded in relief.
The medic hesitated.
"Home?"
"To Iacon." Jazz clarified. "That's where we live."
"My goodness, no, he must remain here in Praxus." the medic exclaimed. "He's possibly the last surviving Praxian noble: he most certainly cannot leave."
"I agree that it is not ideal," Prowl nodded, "but at least while the reconstruction is beginning..."
"No. No, most certainly not. It's out of the question."
"The place is a disaster zone!" Jazz cried. "It's no place for a sparklin'!"
"Sparklings of his rank are not even supposed to leave their section of the city, let alone the state. Not that I suppose someone like you would know."
Jazz bristled.
"I don't care for your tone, mech."
"That hardly matters to me." the medic sniffed, returning his attention to Prowl. "In any case, you must understand that now is a time when the traditions must be followed as closely as possible, or we risk losing all."
Prowl nodded steadily.
"Very well, we will seek accommodation here. There must be something." he added, glancing at Jazz apologetically. "It's not what we had planned..."
"It's okay." Jazz assured him, reaching out to rub his arm comfortingly. "We'll sort something out."
"It is best for all Praxians to return now." the medic smiled encouragingly. "Prime has insisted that all past crimes be forgiven in favour of saving our culture."
"Sentinel Prime is here?"
"He was earlier. He has promised funding to help with rebuilding. Now, if you will just hand over the sparkling I'll get him settled and..."
Prowl's arms tightened instinctively on the sparkling and Jazz rose to stand between them and the medic.
"You ain't takin' him anywhere."
"Don't be absurd. You've done a wonderful thing, rescuing him, but now we must find some appropriate guardians..."
"We intend to adopt him." Prowl interrupted, rising from the chair.
The medic looked incredulous.
"Well that is certainly not going to be permitted."
"Why not?"
"He's the last noble!"
"Second t'last." Jazz corrected him. "Prowl was noble-raised."
The medic began to argue, and Prowl cut him off with a soft whistle, a trill that gave his family lineage.
"Well even so, it's not proper for him to be in a mixed household." the medic blustered. "You're a foreigner."
"He is my sparkmate." Prowl said firmly. "Sentinel Prime himself oversaw our ceremony. You have no right to take this sparkling from our care. From our care. We will leave now. Thank you for your time. Jazz, get the door please."
They found shelter for the night in a hastily constructed refugee centre. The place was deserted since no other survivors had been found, and they chose a room with three berths at the far end of a corridor. It would do, for now.
Jazz warmed some energon while Prowl was fussing over the sparkling, settling him on a berth and tucking a mesh blanket around him to keep him warm then kneeling beside him and murmuring a prayer. Sensing that Prowl needed a few moments of privacy, Jazz pushed the remaining two pallets together and uncoiled the charging cords before moving over to where Prowl was still kneeling.
"Come an' have some fuel, Kohlie. It's been a long orn."
"I'm not hungry."
"I know, but y'need to. Just a little, yeah? Come on."
He coaxed him up and over to the pallet, then put a cube in his hand and sat with him. Dutifully Prowl sipped at the energon but then set the cube aside.
"What are we going to do, Jazz? They'll never accept you, and I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be alive..."
"We don't need their approval - Prime's forgiven everyone of everything an' they've all accepted it, an' that means you're forgiven too. You wanna stay, fine we'll stay. You wanna go then there ain't nothin' they can do t'stop us."
Prowl leaned against him, resting his cheek on Jazz's shoulder, doorwings twitching in a way that Jazz interpreted as a release of tension.
"I'm so lucky to have you."
"That's mutual, babe."
"You're sure you don't mind?"
"I'm stayin' wherever you are. You're all I need."
"Yes, but raising a sparkling. We haven't exactly planned..."
"You're ready for it. I'll learn. We'll be okay."
Prowl seemed about to argue so he twisted around and kissed him firmly, then pressed their foreheads together.
"We'll be okay." he repeated firmly, stroking Prowl's cheeks with his thumbs. "Together."
"Together." Prowl agreed softly.
"Together." a soft voice added.
They both jumped and pulled apart, turning to see the sparkling sitting up on his berth.
"Did he just...?" Jazz began.
"You spoke?" Prowl asked eagerly.
The sparkling moved to settle in Prowl's lap, doorwings fluttering.
"I'd love to hear you speak again." Prowl coaxed him. "Can you say another word for me? Can you say your name?"
The sparkling looked at him uncertainly, then at Jazz.
"Go on." Jazz added encouragingly.
The sparkling looked back up at Prowl.
"Creator said to not speak, so I stayed quiet, but he's been gone for a long time. Are you my caretakers now?"
"Yes." Prowl answered. "Jazz and I are your caretakers."
"Promise you won't go away?"
"Yes."
"More'n that." Jazz added. "I promise we won't ever order ya not to speak if ya want to. You've got a lovely voice, so lets hear it."
The sparkling beamed at him brightly, though notably still clung to Prowl.
"Thank you, Caretaker Jazz. My name is Bluestreak and I'm really pleased to have you and Caretaker Prowl to look after me now because it's been really scary being all alone and all the buildings fell down and I wasn't allowed to say anything and so I turned off my vocaliser and anyway I was told never to talk to anyone unless I was properly introduced which really meant my creator had to introduce me except I can't find him and I've been looking and looking and looking..."
~Jazz?~
~Yeah, Kohlie?~
~I think we may regret that promise you just made.~
~Mech, I'm regrettin' it already! But I ain't gonna break my word. He wants t'speak, then good for him.~
~Then I'll remind you of that when it seems most appropriate.~
Jazz watched his lover trying to get a word in through Bluestreak's constant chatter, and found he could not bring himself to be annoyed by it. Prowl was smiling again for the first time since the news of the attack on Praxus, and that was worth any annoyance at all.