These Scars Won't Heal

Fortress Maximus sat beside Prowl's berth slab, multiple instruments working on his damaged optic.

"How did you manage this?" He asks him.

"Optimus," Prowl snarled. "It's a long story."

"I can figure out how it went down," Fort Max gave a small smile.

No, Prowl thought. The warden only thought that he was up to his usual, dangerous ministrations, and had seemed to betray Optimus. But his story was not that simple this time.

"I was trying to stop Starscream from making Cybertron an empire," Prowl growled at him. "You cannot figure out how it went down." Then he sighed. "Prime isn't how you knew him, Max."

"I see," Max says.

Prowl, after a moment of silence (save the noisy tools Max was using), looked up at the larger bot.

"Where did you learn how to do this?"

"Jetfire taught me a few things on Garrus 9," Max says. "And I watched Ratchet operate a few times."

"Jetfire," Prowl repeated. "I recall deploying him to Garrus 9 to assist."

"But you didn't deploy anyone when we needed you to," Fort Max says softly, pain creeping into his voice. He sees Prowl wince.

"I couldn't, Maximus!" Prowl exclaims, trying desperately to erase his guilt with the logic of his choices. Like he did with sending Overlord on board the Lost Light. That was a choice he had to make, he always brushed the guilt away with the thought of all the other Cybertronians that could've died."There were places that needed the help more."

"It took you three years!" Max booms, standing up.

"I know it did! I remember everything I've messed up during the war; every Autobot I've killed, necessary or not!"

Fortress Maximus stills. Maybe this gives him sympathy for Prowl, but he isn't anywhere near forgiving him. Fort Max is littered with the scars that Overlord inflicted on him, his circuits are burned with the memory of everything Overlord did. When he closes his eyes, he sees him. When it's dark, and he captures a glimpse of his own crimson optics, he sees Overlord's body accompanying them.

Prowl knows. He sees the fear and pain in Fortress Maximus's optics at any mention of Garrus 9 or Overlord. He understands how badly that must have scarred him, how horrified he must've been when he realized that his nightmare was lurking under his feet the whole time. Prowl understands. He has his own scars.

Prowl sits up, and looks Max right in the optics. "I'm sorry. I wish I could've sent someone sooner."

Fort Max knows he means it.