i know I'm about 6 years too late, but congrats on the wedding

reading this story have been quite a ride. I've seen myself screaming, calm, then crying, calm again on and on.
never have i imagine ending this much chapter with 500k word and still want to know more. your story is really amazing and well written.
congratulations on your wedding! i know it's a bit to late since i just discover your story days ago. but regardless! congratulations! i hope you are happy and healthy!
thank you so much for your dedication for this story!

I love this story more than I can possibly say. Every so often I come back to read it. Maybe you'll never update, and that's okay, but I hope you see this comment and know that you brought a lot of joy to people with Turning Points.

Coming back to read this made me realize how much i missed looking forward to the updates. Hope you’re doing well IRL!

NOOOO YOU CAN'T STOP HERE I REALLY LOVED THIS STORY And btw i know im late and that you are already married but...CONGRATULATIONS

Jazz gave him an unreadable look. "Yeah. I figured that out." Then the silver minibot punched him in the chassis just hard enough to scratch his paint. "I told ya not to crash before we got to spar."

Prowl released a system full of hot air and let himself fall back against the door again. "My apologies…"

Jazz punched him again, slightly harder this time and Prowl looked at him, thoroughly confused now. "Shut up." The saboteur gave an exvent and then stood, offering Prowl a hand back to his peds. "Common, lets get ya to your berth."

"No!" Prowl pulled away with a shake of his helm and could all but see Jazz's optic ridges pull together in consternation, though nothing was visible behind his visor. Nevertheless he explained quickly. "Bluestreak is in my quarters."

Jazz frowned and looked behind Prowl again. The tactician saw the sensors on the smaller mech's sensor horns rotate almost imperceptibly to focus all their strength on what lay beyond the door. Then Jazz's lip plates pursed and he nodded once, the motion sharp and decisive.

"Good. Ya need ta talk to him."

Prowl shook his head again, feeling the pain building behind his optics. "He is in recharge. I… I can't. Not like I am now, not like this…"

"Nonsense. This is the perfect opportunity. He's here, you're here… I'm here to make sure you don't kill each other. It's private. And med bay is on this level if needed. Perfect." Jazz reached down to haul Prowl to his peds whether or not Prowl was ready to stand.

"No!" Pain spiked and blackness enveloped Prowl again.

Mah man Prowl is here fainting like it's a hobby...

He released another sigh of air. There was nothing he could do about it now, of course and he should just resign himself to facing the humiliation he rightly deserved for allowing himself to become so…so…

"I hacked the security system." Jazz said out of nowhere. "Did it while ya were out the second time."

Prowl blinked and turned his helm to look at where Jazz was still reclined on the temporary berth he had brought to his quarters. The silver minibot was lying on his side, helm propped up by his lower hand as an azure visor regarded him keenly.

"Indeed?" It was a senseless reply and Prowl would have slapped his faceplate into his palm except he was already humiliated enough.

"Oh no ya don't." Jazz sat up, sliding his pedes to the ground and standing in one smooth, predatory motion that instantly made Prowl uneasy. "No slippin' back behind that mask of yours. Ya know you are glad I did that and you know I know you are. So just thank meh for coverin' for your aft and move on to more important things."

Prowl blinked, and, deciding it would be foolish to stay on his back with Jazz towering over him like an avenging cyberangel, sat up on the berth. Then, gathering as many threads of his dignity as he could manage, bowed his helm formally. "Thank you, Jazz."

Jazz acts more like a caretaker than a friend, im glad to see that atleast Jazz stayed loyal to Prowl. AND THE SATISFACTION I GOT FROM BLUESTREAK GETTING A DRESSING DOWN FROM JAZZ WAS AMAZING HEHEEHHE.

And Chromia you're really getting on my nerves, you only see Bumblebee and Bluestreak struggling but you don't even know what Prowl's been dealing with. /:

Chromia, Bluestreak and Elita One should all calm the fuck down. I lost my respect to Bluestreak, i mean sure he is a youngling, but doesn't he see the destruction he is causing? And Elita and Chromia may be femmes but that still gives them no right to interfere in personal matters. Goodluck Prowl, you really need it...

Ugh damn it Bluestreak, leave it to you to ruin everything Prowl has built how about asking questions first before coming to your own conclusions? I hope Prowl saves Jazz because he is the only true friend he can turn to.

HOLD ON, MIRAGE IS A DECEPTICON?! AND HE'S SUICIDAL?! The plots thickens hehhehe... but i hate Soundwave more and more, especially after what he's done to Mirage. He is practically a youngling stuck in a adult frame, i keep imagining him a few vorns older than Bluestreak.

The Senior Priest, however did not move, just staring at Prowl's bowed helm as if he had not expected such an openly truthful answer. "You are troubled by that possibility."

"More than I can put into words, Senior Priest." Prowl forced the words out.

An uncomfortable silence settled over them again. Then the Priest stepped closer, pressing into Prowl's personal space. "And just what are you willing to do to be certain?"

There was an offer and a promise in those words and Prowl jumped on them both. "Anything."

"Even if the answer you find is not to your liking?"

Prowl lifted his gaze to meet the Priest's "It is better to know for sure, so that steps can be taken to safeguard those around me. To safeguard the Allspark."

The silver mech blinked and then his gaze softened a touch with compassion. "I see. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Prowl endured the Priest's searching gaze for a long astrosecond and then the mech lifted his left hand, the plates of his palm rearranging to show a glowing mechanism. Automatically, Prowl's optics darted down to the integrated device. It was beautiful in a way that chilled him to his core, though the tactician could not immediately identify why.

Perhaps reacting to Prowl's unconscious reaction or to what they knew was coming, the hands holding Prowl's arms tightened as the Priest stepped even closer, reaching toward Prowl's chassis with his glowing hand.

Prowl sucked in a draft of air, but did not resist, even as the Priest pressed his palm flat against his chassis, directly over his spark.

I don't know if i hate the Priest or if i love him. But since the misunderstanding has been cleared i would actually like to see more of him

I'm glad that Prowl and Ultra Magnus are FINALLY getting along. Even tho he nearly killed Prowl but eh, mistakes happen.

"Twenty-two Autobots, lost…" Prowl's vents hitched painfully.

Suddenly the brush stopped moving. When Jazz spoke it was almost inflectionless. "This is war. Things happen."

"But…"

Without warning, Jazz grabbed Prowl's shoulder, spinning him around to pin him against the wall. One of the jets was partially, and uncomfortably, occluded by Prowl's frame, but the smaller saboteur nimbly dodged the spraying solvent.

Black and silver hands closed around the edges of armor plates on Prowl's chassis. "What's wrong with ya? You were the Commander of the tactical division for the entire Enforcer Corps in Praxus. Ya shouldn't be so messed up just 'cause a one botched mission."

Prowl let himself be held there, but was unable to meet Jazz's visor. "I am not just a tactician on a botched mission. I… the last time a mission went this bad…"

Prowl fell silent, remembering what had happened after he had been deemed responsible for the safe-house fiasco.

Jazz shook him gently. "Get a grip, mech. Everyone's entitled to a few mistakes. The review board is standard procedure – not 'cause of your former allegiance. Surely ya know that."

Aawh i love how Jazz really treats him like a friend. And poor Prowl, he got locked up again... this was really unnecessary tbh..

Prowl cleared his vents, "That was…" he choked off whatever he was going to say, looking askance at the Prime.

"Interesting?" Optimus provided and Prowl nodded quickly. He smiled wryly. "I agree."

Another moment of silence echoed between them, then Prowl straightened, turning back to the Prime formally. "Shall we continue?"

Optimus nodded with equal formality. "I believe you were 'beating some sense' into me."

The Prime smirked faintly as Prowl's helm jerked back in surprise.

"Prime… I… I do not…" Prowl's doorwings trembled so faintly it might have been an illusion.

Then Prowl winced only an aestrosecond before he started to fall.

Only lightning-quick reflexes of his own allowed the Prime to catch the Praxian before he hit the ground in an unconscious heap.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA I WAS LAUGHING SO HARD AT THIS SCENE. Even tho im kinda disappointed in both Bluestreak for attacking Jazz, and Elita One for accusing Prowl for disrespecting Optimus. But im glad that they both have learned from their mistake.

Abruptly his perspective shifted and the lines of broken code suddenly looked as if it was his very essence ripped in half. The giant chasm of fresh terror reached for him, waiting to swallow his very being.

Ratchet reacted instantly, blunting the rising tide of horror, trapping Prowl's mind in a solid mental grip.

"Prowl." Ratchet was actually leaning over him, both hands placed on his upper chassis, staring down into Prowl's suddenly wild optics. "Prowl… I am here. I won't let you get lost."

Air was heaving through Prowl's vents as his gaze snagged on the medic's as if clinging to a life-line. Unable to focus enough to speak, his mind screamed its panic.

"I know." Ratchet soothed gently. "I know. I see what the problem is, where it is. I… I need to work on patching the damage now."

Patching the damage? A whole segment of his command cortex was obliterated! There was no patch that…

"Prowl." Ratchet's tone was a touch more stern now. "Yes, the damage is significant, but it is not a complete loss. You said you would trust me to do this."

I got goosebumps from this scene, i wonder what exactly happened in the past for Prowl to react that strongly...

"That… is not…" Prowl began haltingly, or at least he thought he did.

But then he was actually falling, unable to prevent it, his processors locking on the illogical decision, the hope and dismay that warred within him as something deep within his processor tore apart, finally unable to handle the pressure that had been building since the battle had started.

Only Prowl did not hit the ground. Instead, strong arms caught him, holding him gently, pulling him close to a warmly thrumming chassis.

He could hear what was happening around him but could not respond or even make it compute.

A deep, rough voice that part of his spinning processor identified as Ironhide's sounded from somewhere to his left. "Hmm. Perhaps he was more seriously wounded than anyone first thought."

"Ratchet don't usually miss somethin' that important." A suave voice that could only be Jazz's

"That's assuming Ratchet was the one who looked at him." An openly anxious voice that probably belonged to Smokescreen.

Prowl vaguely remembered his apprentice had been in the room as well, but that was all he could manage as everything faded, pulling further away even though he tried to cling to it, tried to drag himself upward from the abyss reaching up to grab his mind.

"Let's get him back to the med bay." Calm, dignified base tones that could only belong to the Prime rumbled through his mental flailing from directly over him.

That meant the Prime had been the one who had caught him and thus it was the Prime who was now holding him.

PROWL YOU ARE DAMN LUCKY, GETTING CAUGHT LIKE THAT BY THE PRIME