[Video]

[needlefingers]

You know.

It's hard to take any of this seriously.

Here we are on an alien world, brought here because someone wants us to get cozy with others. I wonder why you'd want to have Cybertronians here in the first place, we're not exactly the most cuddleable bunch. We're sort of made of metal and you organics... aren't.

Anyway, if there are other Autobots out there, that'd be great.

Decepticons need not answer.

[Rude.]

Comments

[pffft]

[Prowl may not know the intricacies of cerebroscience, but he knows a mnemosurgeon's needles and he knows what they're used for.]

[A key to his mind.]

[His hands squeeze angrily at the lack of trust in turn. He was being as open as he can. Far more than he'd ever been with anyone else - and this is what he gets as a response?]

[He stiffens and looks away. Under most other circumstances he would have refused on principle, but...]

Fine.

[A heavy weight finds itself on the couch, but he keeps his gaze fixated on the wall rather than Chromedome.]

[needlefingers]

[Trusting someone completely and totally always leads to unnecessary pain. That's why one should always keep even their friends at a certain distance. It's important to care, but to not care too much.]

You're lucky I asked.

[He says quietly as he walks behind the couch. He gently places a hand on the back of Prowl's head and prepares his other hand for injection.]

I've done this a couple thousand times, and most of the time I've never needed anyone's consent to do it.

[With that chilling comment, he flexes his fingers and slides his needles carefully into the back of his neck.

From there it's a simple matter of flowing from his own mind into Prowl's, pulling himself into the other's consciousness until he's fully inside. Prowl's mind is cold and orderly, but Chromedome instantly notices a difference to it. There's a little bit of chaos here and emotions floating around. That, and there are 4 million years less memories than his old Prowl had.

That's all the proof he needs. There's no need to look further.

He does anyway.

But not for long.

The moment he comes across that emotion. That feeling that he yearns so much for, he withdraws. He doesn't need this.

He pulls out and takes a step back.]

I see. That's all I need to know.

[He's tired now. Tired and bitter and sad and just about every other emotion there is.]

Prowl... you're better off as you are now. Without me. As I said before, it's better if we stay apart.

I think you should leave now.

[pffft]

[Prowl didn't have time to react before he found his mind subsumed.]

[For him, the process was instantaneous and passive. It was more akin to being slipped into recharge for a few minutes. Chromedome was good at what he does - the extra venture into his thoughts and emotions went totally unnoticed.]

[When Prowl finally found himself pulled back into consciousness, he suffered from none of the fatigue Chromedome did.]

[There was a cataclysm of emotion, not from what he'd done, but from what he'd said shortly before doing the deed. Prowl is quick to slap his hand away from his neck as soon as he recovers some of his motor function.]

Get away from me.

[With his arms crossed tightly, he shakily gets to his feet.]

The person I knew - Tumbler - wouldn't say that. He wouldn't say any of this. He'd be appalled.

[The light shimmers slightly in his optics, but he's quick to look away. Now embarrassment was something he could add to the maelstrom in his spark right now.]

I hope what you found was worth it.

[He makes for the door.]

[needlefingers]

I know.

[He's almost tempted to just let it go. To leave it at that and call it a day. However, Chromedome doesn't feel like his point is driven home just yet.]

Before you go.

[He reaches up to stop him. To add to the moment, he even pulls Prowl into a brief hug before letting him go, his face hovering inches away from Prowl's own. This is the first time Chromedome's looked fully at Prowl since they started talking.]

I need you to understand one thing: I don't love you anymore. I don't even consider you a friend. Whatever you're hoping for isn't going to happen.

[Prowl is abruptly pushed towards the door and then roughly shoved out into the hall.]

If you want answers, go talk to Ultra Magnus.

Goodbye.

[pffft]

[A few moments earlier, the gesture would have been appreciated and welcomed. But now, Prowl was the one who could only feel disgust at the touch. He didn't reciprocate to say the least. He just stiffens in the embrace, and was three words away from pushing at him before Chromedome did the pushing for him.]

[He stumbles a bit as Chromedome drops more words like hot needles and shoves him out, too stunned at the whole affair to even reply with a scathing remark.]

[Prowl just leans against the wall, his systems and optics ablaze with rage and any number of emotions coursing through his body. His expression begins to fall apart as he breaks eye contact again.]

[He could only force himself to transform - barely fitting into the hallway, and rushing away.]

[needlefingers]

[This should hurt. Chromedome feels like the look Prowl gave him should hurt a lot. Maybe it does, he feels too drained to tell anymore.

The door closes and he leans against it. Slowly, he slides down until he's sitting with an arm around his leg. The silence that Prowl leaves behind seems to be pushing down on him. His apartment is unnaturally darker too.

There are no thoughts swirling around in his mind. No emotions either. Just a bland hollowness that fills the entire room.

He just sits there, lost in whatever this was. There's no reason for him to move or go anywhere... he'll just stay here. For however long he needed to.]