My thanks to BlueProwl for being such an awesome beta.

For information on why this fic was deleted, and is now being reposted, visit my profile. And before anyone accuses me of stealing this, I am RedRequiem. I just changed my penname.

Updates will be Monday/Tuesday.

This fic takes place six centuries after the war ends. There wasn't a real victor, but since the Autobots were the ones mainly aiming for peace, they're more widely viewed as such.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I don't even own a car, let alone one that's secretly a giant alien robot.

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Six centuries since the final battle at Kaon — strange that the war would begin and end in the same city.

Six centuries since the Transformer race had begun to undertake the tremulous course to peace without faction.

Six centuries of political unrest and suppressing rebellions too numerous to count.

Six centuries since Jazz had been deactivated.

Six centuries of hell.

Prowl's hands clenched on the railing of the balcony, his optics trained on the far horizon without truly seeing anything. The air was cold and clear, pierced by the incandescent lights of the surrounding city. The world around him was thrown into sharp detail, but none of it penetrated Prowl's mind. It never did anymore.

Someone behind him sighed and drummed their fingers against the doorframe leading out to the balcony. "Staring at the sky he died under won't make him any less dead."

Prowl turned from Kaon's skyline, face and voice emotionless despite the deep-rooted anger that threaded its way through his systems. "For a moment, just a moment, could you pretend you aren't utterly tactless?"

Skywarp shrugged noncommittally. "Dunno." The fluorescent green light peeling from the building to their left glinted eerily off the black in the seeker's armor. His red optics fixed unwaveringly on the once-Autobot, forceful but not unkind. "For a moment, could you pretend I'm not right?"

Prowl squared his shoulders, shoving his way past Skywarp and into the room beyond without sparing him a glance.

The former Decepticon smirked and shook his head. "And now comes the part where you turn all business and ignore me." He laced his fingers above his head, stretching. "I just love that we're working together this time! You're so much fun," he added with unparalleled sarcasm.

"We're on a mission," Prowl replied coolly. He perched back-straight on the edge on his berth, one of two in the room, and thumbed his way through various options on a datapad. "Do me the kindness of concentrating on your part." He paused as he studied the mech specs now lining the screen in front of him. "We may have found the site where the triplechangers' rebel cell is convening, but they still have two days to change locales… a possibility that will become reality if they discover your true allegiance."

Prowl's chief concern and duty since the peace negotiations was to quell the eternally high number of former soldiers looking to reignite the war… whether spurred by the refusal to give up their ideals, malice for mechs willing to live alongside their past enemies, or the simple desire to take the seats of power left vacant by the ruling peace. The Guard had neutralized a near equal number of mechs from both factions, bearing ranks from all ends of the spectrum.

The alleged cell under the command of the triplechangers' was widely considered to be the last major threat, and they were holding a conclave in the sin-rich streets of Kaon.

Skywarp, unsurprisingly, had elicited an invitation.

The former Decepticon was admittedly frustrating and more than a little difficult to keep in line, but as an infiltrator he was invaluable.

The seeker reached his own berth in three lazy strides and sprawled across it animatedly. "Tch, relax. Astrotrain and Blitzwing are so slagging desperate to get some of the old players in on their game that they never stopped to doubt my intentions." He flashed the tactician an arrogant smile. "And when it comes to playing the part of double agent, there's no one better than me to trust." The slight nudge he put into 'trust' was almost teasing.

Prowl started to counter by pointing out Starscream's flair for treachery, but caught himself.

Jazz wasn't the only one to die under Kaon's sky.

Prowl studied the roguish, nonchalant mech lounging carelessly across the room. The teleport had lost both of his wingmates in the same battle: one to the Autobots, and one to insanity. He wondered if Skywarp still visited Starscream's mindless shell in Dire. His spark clenched in a melding of guilt and empathy. "Just… get the evidence we need to connect them to the bombing in Polyhex. The Guard can't take any of the insurgents into custody without that proof. Keep me and Ironhide in touch with your visual and audio feeds. Don't get overconfident and shut us out. Again."

Skywarp looked slightly mutinous. "I still don't understand why you can't just get Soundwave to mind-suck them." When he saw Prowl start to retort, he beat him to it, waving one hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Those two wouldn't get anywhere near a telepath if they were really plotting something. I get it; don't lecture me again. It's just…" He fidgeted. "Couldn't he jump them when they're coming out of a bar or somethin'? It wouldn't be hard. Those two never could hold their energon."

Prowl sighed a familiar long-suffering sigh. "Soundwave is still tracking Shockwave. You know that."

The teleport shuddered. "And good luck to him." He swiped an energon cube off the berthside table and mock toasted his former communications officer, downing the cube's contents despite the fact it had been sitting there for at least a cycle, probably longer.

Looking at him, Prowl thought bitterly, one wouldn't think he'd lost anyone… let alone his wingmates. The tactician supposed he resented him for that. He also supposed that some healing should be expected after six centuries, and perhaps that made Prowl the true rarity.

Skywarp rolled languidly onto his side and caught the stare. Red optics flashed alluringly in theme with a sneer. "What?"

"Nothing," Prowl forced a smirk, pushing himself back so he could rest against the wall. "It's just… You made a crack on the triplechangers not being able to hold their high grade, but I'm thinking of the number of times I've seen you completely thrashed."

Skywarp feigned looking insulted. He couldn't hold the expression, and it dissolved into a knowing laugh. "Okay, I get a little wild, but there is a difference between tolerance and the ability to have a good time." He tilted his head, a challenging smile curving his lips. "Let me buy you a drink sometime, and I'll be more than happy to demonstrate that fact."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Skywarp watched Prowl's face deadpan just as it had done every other time he'd suggested he take him out for a drink. He knew why. He'd seen the reason reflected not only in those reserved blue optics, but in the faces of the former Autobot's comrades and friends whenever they tried to bridge the fissure that had formed since Kaon. Skywarp wondered if it had ever been reflected in the red of his own optics.

The seeker had only been working with Prowl for a little under a decade now, but he found that he was quickly growing attached. Besides… the mech had given him the job of a lifetime. Skywarp was literally paid to get close to anyone gaining a name for notoriety, and since he used to be one of those names… He was already in good with Cybertron's illustrious villains. Most of his time was spent partying and playing with the minds of wannabe crimelords until it was time to turn them in for treason.

The setback was that the more he became familiar with Prowl, the more he realized the former Autobot was sinking fast. Despite the desperate attempts made by his comrades, he wasn't healing… and that thought refused to leave Skywarp's mind. Prowl was charismatic, courageous, passionate, and insensibly selfless. He was an enigma.

But for all Prowl's strengths, he was still engulfed by sorrow. He was still in love with the bondmate he'd lost. Skywarp wasn't a telepath, but he'd seen the sort of darkness that saturated the tactician's every movement enough times to know the truth. There wasn't anything his comrades could do for him. They were too close, the wrong sort of close. Prowl needed help, and he wasn't finding it in the mechs he surrounded himself with.

Silence wove its way throughout the room, broken only by the sound of the city's nightlife pouring in from the balcony. The silence would continue unless Skywarp made the choice to break it.

The teleport sat up, arms wrapped around one knee. His optics never deviated from the other mech's face. "It's not like I forgot them, Prowl. My wingmates were everything to me. The difference is where I come from. You Autobots might have been permitted to show sentiment; it was acceptable for you because you had the sort of comrades that could empathize." He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "It's a funny image… trying to imagine the mechs I fought alongside consoling someone." The teleporter grew very still. "No, I haven't forgotten. I've just had billions of years to perfect suppression." A weak smiled accompanied a hollow laugh. "I miss them, Prowl. I do." Skywarp refocused. "But I survived and they didn't."

The answering warning laced into Prowl's glare clearly commanded Skywarp not to continue on that train of thought.

True to form, Skywarp ignored it completely. "And you know what I think?"

Prowl stiffened. "The answer had better be nothing." His voice was deadly even, thick with an almost tangible threat.

The teleport's optics dimmed. "I think that if Jazz was alive and could see what you've done to yourself, it'd kill him all over again." Skywarp maintained the dangerous optic contact as he slid off the berth and took slow, cautious steps towards the former Autobot. It was uncanny how such pristine blue optics could be so volatile. He could tell that it was taking every ounce of Prowl's well sculpted self control not to strike him. Skywarp eased down beside him anyway.

Prowl didn't move away, but the intense ferocity in the light of his optics danced in the darkened room. There was a threat there that would be unwise to disregard, but it was the course the teleport chose to follow.

Skywarp's voice retained its energy even though he couldn't keep it from adopting a shadowed tone. "I wasn't the mech that fired that shot, Prowl." He lifted his hand to touch his superior's face. For a moment, he thought that the former Autobot would let him, but then Prowl caught his wrist roughly.

"Don't touch me." Each syllable was cut and aggressive, and the grip tightened painfully.

"Prowl…" Skywarp let his hand fall as the tactician pulled away and slipped passed him without a word. He heard the doors to the room hiss open and close again. "I want you to stop looking at me as though I'm the one that deactivated him." The seeker stood and walked back to his berth, mind numb. "Because I think I might actually want to help you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Blitzwing lifted his arm from around Astrotrain's shoulders as the newcomer entered the room. He took a swig of high-grade before grinning. "Swindle! You're early."

Swindle smiled greasily, hands spread wide. "Yeah, and it's a good thing for you that I am." He lounged in the booth across from the two triplechangers and took a long draft from his cube before elaborating. "Kaon is thick with the Guard."

Astrotrain's optics widened as he leaned forward. "Guard? But how did they…?"

Blitzwing's shock quickly became a sneer as he waved his partner to silence. "Fortunately, we made this caucus exclusive. There's only a few mechs that could be the informant."

"Heh… I've already got you covered," Swindle chuckled as he toasted them. "Too bad, it would have been so beneficial to have a teleporter in our ranks."

Blitzwing's optics brightened, and a cruel smirk curved his lips. "Oh? Pity… I always rather liked Skywarp." He relaxed, arm reclaiming its place around Astrotrain. "I suppose we should pay him the kindness of returning him to Thundercracker." He swirled the contents of his cube. "It's the least we can do for a former comrade."