Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He was so tired all the time now. We could see it, even though neither of us wanted to.

            I leaned against my brother where we sat in the rec room, and he tolerated the contact for a few moments before giving me a slight nudge to get me off. The brief touch had made me feel better, sitting here watching our surrogate creator.

            There was a nudge at my spark, and I looked sideways to meet Sunny's optics. My golden brother stared silently at me for a long moment, and then turned his gaze to the black and white figure in the corner.

            --I'm worried too, Sides.--

            Prowl had always been a loner, had always sat by himself working silently whenever he came to the rec room for Energon, which didn't even happen all that often. He usually drank his meals in his office, working straight through his breaks, if you could call them that. It was a sort of Prowlian thing that no one questioned. The sky was blue, Sunny was a vain afthead, Ratchet was crazy, and Prowl was a quiet workaholic.

            That was why we had Jazz.

            Jazz was one of the only mechs that could get Prowl out of his office and into the social circles, get him smiling, laughing, and interacting with others. Sure, the black and white mech interacted with Sunny and I on a regular basis, and Bluestreak, but me and Sunny were his surrogate creations, and Bluestreak actually was his sparkling, so it was no surprise.

            But then Jazz had died.

            It was a day that I would never be able to get out of my processors, no matter how much I tried. The battle had been unexpected, as Megatron had suddenly had a desire to attack a power plant, which in all reality we should have expected. Sunny and I had been doing what we did best, taking down the Seekers with our Jet Judo while Bluestreak and a few others covered us.

            ::Anybody got optics or otherwise on Prowl?:: Blaster's voice came over the comms. ::He ran off and I lost him.::

            I tuned out the responses, though I kept an optic out for the distinctive black and white mech. There was no sign of him, though I had no doubt that Prowl could handle himself. It wasn't until a shot from Bluestreak had missed that I knew something was wrong.

            Bluestreak didn't miss.

            Instantly Sunny and I had made our way back to the ground, me by jumping off and using my jet pack, Sunny through more... creative means, ending with a Seeker smoking on the ground. Bluestreak was gasping when we found him, surrounded by Hound, Mirage and Cliffjumper, who were trying to get him to tell them what had happened.

            As soon as he saw us, though, the tears flowed down his face. "Carrier." he whispered, and the shock that traveled through our sparks caused us both to stop in our tracks.

            Sunstreaker was up and running before I was, racing in the direction that Bluestreak had pointed. I stayed behind, helping Bluestreak to his pedes and then moving after my twin as fast as I could get the shocked sniper to run.

            I had only a moment of the surprised horror from Sunny before we burst into the clearing to stand beside him, and I heard Bluestreak let out a groaning keen before he fell to his knees beside me.

            Prowl looked up at us with dead optics, his face expressionless. Sunny was standing beside him, a hand extended towards him, though he hadn't touched the black and white mech. I could only stare in shock at the scene in front of me, at the splatters of Energon that dotted Prowl's face, at his white arms soaked through in the life liquid.

            And Jazz...

            Jazz was lying in Prowl's lap, optics open and dark, staring into the sky. His right hand was lying on the ground, palm up, stained with Energon, though everything was covered in the blue liquid. His other hand was pressed against his throat, and I could see that this was the source of the pool of Energon Prowl was kneeling in, and doubtlessly the cause of Jazz's deactivation.

            "Prowl." Sunstreaker murmured, suddenly breaking the shocked silence.

            Vague optics traveled to my golden twin. "He's c-cold." Prowl said, his voice stuttering and static-laced. "W-We should contact-contact Ratchet. S-Something may b-b-be wrong with-with his c-coolant circulation-lation."

            Bluestreak made the groaning sound again.

            --He's glitching, Sunny.-- I murmured across our bond. --We need to stop him before it gets worse. He could hurt himself, hurt us.--

            --I know. I just need to get close enough.--

            "Sides is calling him right now, Prowl." Sunny said soothingly, crouching slightly and moving closer, trying to get to where he can reach Prowl's neck, and thus knock him out with a well placed strike to the lines of his throat. It would hurt him, but it would be the most efficient way of stopping him before his confused systems started reacting violently. In this state, if any of us were perceived as a threat, Prowl would no doubt react without thought to protect his, in his mind, injured mate.

            His mind had blocked out the fact that Jazz was dead, in order to protect itself.

            "He's on his way." I added quietly, telling the truth. Now that I was paying attention, I could hear Ratchet yelling over the comms, as well as the footsteps behind us that signaled he was on his way, no doubt with Prime. Prowl's optics traveled to me, and Sunstreaker took that moment to strike. He was quick and precise, and an instant later Prowl let out a slight sigh and slumped to the side, caught by Sunny before he could fall into the puddle of Jazz's Energon.

            Sunny looked up to me, his optics nearly white with stress as he pulled Prowl's body away from Jazz's lifeless form, which was beginning to lose color. I stepped in, easing Jazz back onto the ground before helping my twin lay Prowl out on the dirt.

            A moment later Ratchet burst into the area, his optics burning white, venting furiously as he ran forward. He slid to a stop, and then dropped his med kit. "Oh Jazz..."

            Prime looked between Sunny and I where we were cradling Prowl, to Bluestreak shaking on the ground, and Jazz's body, and then grimly spoke. "We need to get back to the Ark. I've called for Skyfire. Ratchet.... do what you can for Prowl."

            The red and white medic nodded shakily, moving to kneel beside Sunny and slowly began to work. Sunny slipped away from him, going to his knees beside Bluestreak and taking the shaking mech into his arms as soon as Bluestreak allowed it. I pressed myself against Bluestreak's side, trying to comfort him as much as I could, petting his trembling doorwings.

            Optimus carefully leaned down, lifting Jazz's limp body into his arms, his optics endlessly sad. We had lost more than a superior officer and talented saboteur, we had lost a friend, a creator, and a mate. Jazz meant so much to all of us, and with him gone...

            I wasn't sure exactly how we were going to keep going without him. I didn't know if Prowl was going to survive. And I knew that it would take everything that Sunny and I could give to keep Bluestreak from withdrawing into himself and blocking us out. He was too gentle, too kind, to take this tragedy.

            We would not lose him to this.

************

            I knew as soon as Ratchet entered the debriefing room that things were worse than I had ever though they were going to be.

            He looked run down, and older than I had ever seen him look. His optics were dim, his stance defeated and exhausted. I watched quietly as he sat in his customary place beside Prowl's empty chair, resting his forearms on the table and leaning his chin against his fists.

            Optimus waited for a moment, and then quietly spoke. "Ratchet?"

            The red and white bot vented a sigh, and then passed a hand over his face in a gesture that we'd picked up from the humans. "Prowl's stable, but I'm honestly not certain how long it's going to hold. He woke once, and it's obvious that his processor has blocked out the fact that Jazz is..." he paused awkwardly, and then continued. "Bluestreak is physically fine, but he's catatonic; I couldn't get him to respond to me no matter what I did. I finally put him under, I'm hoping that some rest will help him."

            A moment of silence passed, in which Sunny and I shifted uncomfortably. Both of us wanted to go to Bluestreak; he needed us, he needed our support. However, just as both of us were getting ready to rise to our feet, Ratchet began to speak again.

            "I see no reason to perform a full autopsy on Jazz. In my prelim examination I found a puncture wound in the left side of his throat, passing all the way through his neck column. The back of his main energon line was torn open, which made it practically impossible for anything to have been done on scene. There are signs that his self-repair attempted to fix the tear, but there was too much damage. The data I've gathered from his systems tell me that he bled out in roughly half a breem, which is longer than I would have expected him to last, but Prowl must have managed to slow the bleed when he found him." Ratchet stopped here, his optics haunted.

            "A stray shot." Mirage murmured. "After all this time, a simple awry shot killed him."

            There was a collective shiver in the room. This was, more than anything, a reminder to all of us just how easy we were sent on to the Matrix.

            Another long silence as all of us absorbed everything, and then Bumblebee softly spoke. "I don't know what it's going to be like without him."

            "I don't think any of us can imagine that, Bumblebee." Hound said, laying his hand on the minibot's shoulder. "None of us wanted to."

            Jazz was the life of the Ark. He was the one who started all the parties, who got us all together, who helped to raise our spirits when something went wrong. He was the beat that held us together, and the spark that kept us going.

            Where would we be without him?

**********

            Bluestreak awoke the next day, staring blankly at us before diving into Sunny’s arms, snuggling close to him and hiding his face against my twin’s throat. Sunstreaker held him silently, his expression hard and his spark tense through our link. I pressed myself close to Blue’s back, stroking a hand down his drooping door wings in an attempt to comfort him.

            Ratchet was standing near Prowl’s berth, watching his stats as he began to bring him out of stasis. We were all worried what was going to happen when he woke, if he was going to know what had happened, or if we would have to tell him. And if we did, what would his reaction be? Would we have brought him here and saved him only to watch him die moments after realizing that his bondmate, the other half of his spark, was gone?

            The tension in the room was thick and suffocating as Prowl's systems came alive and his optics opened. He blinked, and then turned his gaze to Ratchet before pushing himself into a sitting position and then a standing one. Ratchet made no move to stop him, not wanting to push him too far.

            "Am I free to go?"

            I couldn't help it; my jaw dropped open. Sunstreaker tensed beside me, and Bluestreak trembled between us, tucking his face even closer against Sunny's neck. Ratchet blinked in shock, opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but his vocalizer failed him. There was a click as he reset it.

            "Prowl?"

            The black and white held his gaze, and then repeated himself. "Am I free to leave? I would like to return to my quarters."

            Ratchet gaped at him. "You... Prowl..."

            With a sigh Prowl spoke again. "I have my memory, Ratchet. I know that Jazz is gone. I would like to return to my quarters to rest so I will be able to return to duty tomorrow. Optimus will no doubt require my assistance."

            Seemingly unable to do anything else, Ratchet nodded dumbly. Prowl was gone moments later, leaving Sunny, Ratchet and I to stare blankly at each other. I finally managed to get my vocalizer to work.

            ".... What just happened?"

*********

            Prowl was yanked out of his state of intense focus on the battle by the bolt of pain from the closed bond that he held with Jazz. Instantly his attention was on his mate, making sure that he was alright.

            What he found made his spark skip a beat.

            ::Prowl... shot... love you...::

            ::NO!::

            He was running a moment later, his doorwings flat against his back as he darted through the battle around him. His spark led him unerringly to where Jazz had been hiding, preparing to launch a surprise attack from a gully not far from Prowl's position. He shot a comm towards Ratchet who responded that he was on his way, but that he was across the battlefield.

            It was this moment that somewhere in Prowl's logic centers, he knew that Jazz was dead.

            Prowl skidded across the ground and fell to his knees beside Jazz, who was curled on the ground with both hands pressed to his throat. Words falling from his vocalizer, Prowl struggled to get his hands beneath Jazz's, to locate the source of the bleed and try to pinch it off. Jazz was choking on his own Energon, his optics wide as his visor snapped up, making optic contact with his mate.

            "Let me, let me, let go Jazz, you have to let go, have to let me get to it!" Prowl pleaded, his fingers digging beneath his mate's hands and pressing over the wound. He could barely feel anything in the slickness of Energon, and he flinched backwards as Jazz jerked, Energon spraying across his face as his hands slipped before he managed to get another hold on the torn line.

            ::I'm sorry... sorry...::

            Prowl shot out another comm for Ratchet, at the same time trying to sooth Jazz's frantic mind even as his physical struggles grew weaker and weaker."Stay with me Jazz, Ratchet is on his way."

            ::I love you... I love you...love...::

            Jazz's body went still and then, with a great release of air, his frame went limp in Prowl's lap. His right hand slipped from where it was clasped at his throat and his optics went dark.

            Half of his spark ripped away, and then Prowl knew no more.

*********

            Prowl awoke with a start, his optics wide and his spark pounding, the yawning emptiness within him more painful than usual. He fought back the pain, one hand pressing to his chestplate as he closed his eyes in the dim light of his berthroom, trying to normalize the beat of his spark.

            This was a regular occurrence. Almost every night he saw Jazz; either relived the terror and pain of his death, or saw flashes of his face. Sometimes Jazz would seem to see him, react to him, and others it was simply as if he was watching his bonded on the other side of a screen.

            The void within his spark ached, and he forced himself to get up and make his way to the Energon dispenser on the wall, drawing a cube and refueling. It was best for him to put his focus into other things, anything, to get his processor off of Jazz. He couldn't afford to spend any time thinking about his beloved.

            If he did, the void might swallow him, and he couldn't leave. Not while he was still needed. He knew that Jazz would wait for him. All he had to do was last until the end of the war....

**********

            "Heya Prowler."

            Prowl's helm snapped up, and his optics widened faintly in shock as he stared into Jazz's beloved face. "... Jazz?"

            A smile passed over the silver lips. "I'm here."

            The Praxian stumbled to his pedes, very nearly collapsing against his smaller mate, doorwings trembling. "I miss you." His voice was thick with emotion, and Jazz crooned softly, wrapping his arms around Prowl's waist and pressing his cheek against his mate's.

            "I know, babe. I miss you too. I'm so proud of you, holding on like this."

            "I must." Prowl responded, his hands stroking along Jazz's frame, needing to feel him, touch him, even if this was nothing more than a recharge dream, his processor struggling to cope with the loss of his mate. "I cannot leave Optimus without a tactician. He needs my assistance to end this war."

            Jazz smiled, leaning back to press his hand against Prowl's face. The taller mech leaned into the touch, shuttering his optics as he focused on memorizing every little detail. "And the war will end. You're doing so well."

            "I'm so tired, Jazz." Prowl murmured quietly after a moment.

            Jazz's face crumpled slightly, sorrow and pain fleeting across his features, but they faded quickly as Prowl opened his optics. "It'll be okay. Everything will be over soon, and then you can rest. Just hold on for a little longer, okay?" He smiled, the gesture sad. "For me?"

            Prowl returned the smile, even if it was small and lonely. "Anything for you."

*********

            In the end, it was violent.

            Prowl suddenly found himself on his back, his doorwings screaming at him, and his senses mildly interested in the fact that his entire torso seemed to have gone numb. He could faintly hear screaming that sounded like Bluestreak, but his audios seemed to be malfunctioning; everything was so dull.

            He blinked up at the sky, his fingers twitching for the grip of the rifle that was no longer in his grasp, and he tried to take in a vent of air.

            Pain exploded through his frame and his venting hitched, a faint moan escaping his vocalizer. His body throbbed with each beat of his spark, and he struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

            He remembered the call of 'get down!', remembered preparing to leap for cover.... The Seekers. There had been an air strike, unanticipated because they had believed the Elite Trine to be on the ground. They must have gotten in the air again without Prowl's knowledge.

            'I cannot go...' Prowl thought desperately. 'Prime needs me...'

            Ratchet was suddenly there, his optics wide even as his hands immediately went to work at the gaping hole in Prowl's midsection. Prowl tried to focus on what he was saying, but the words were muffled.

            Bluestreak appeared in his vision, shimmering tears trailing down his cheeks and his hands snatching up one of Prowl's. The black and white Praxian turned his attention to his creation, blinking slowly and squeezing his hands. He absently watched Bluestreak's mouth move, tried to analyze the words being formed by his lips.

            "Stay with me!" Bluestreak was screaming. "Please don't leave me! I can't lose you too!"

            Ratchet swore as he wrenched away a melted panel and was promptly sprayed by Energon and coolant. "Damnit! His lines are shredded! He's losing Energon too fast!"

            Prowl was only focused on his child. "It'll be okay..." he murmured, not noticing that his voice was slurring and static-laced, barely understandable. "It'll be... okay..."

            The world faded.

*********

            When Prowl awoke again, it was to the dull muddied sense of sedation and the quiet, slow beeping of a spark monitor. He could feel the weight of a static blanket over his lower half and chest, as well as a pair of hands wrapped around his left hand. He blinked slowly, and then turned his helm to see Bluestreak sitting beside him, asleep with his helm on the berth.

            The low lighting told Prowl that it was the night cycle of the ship; Ratchet was no doubt recharging, but lightly so he would hear if someone called for him.

            'Heya Prowler.'

            This familiar greeting, so much more intimate and yet terrible made Prowl look past the recharging form of his creation to meet the optics of his lover, standing quietly behind Bluestreak. Prowl blinked in surprise; he had never seen Jazz while he was online.

            "... Jazz?" he whispered softly.

            Jazz smiled. 'You've done well, lover. It's time for you to rest now.'

            "Rest?" Prowl replied. "But the war...."

            'You did it.' Jazz said with a wider smile. 'It's over.'

            Prowl felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chassis. "Over...?"

            This last word must have been louder, because Bluestreak suddenly sat up, his optics wide and vents cycling hard. He blinked and then focused. "Sire! You're awake! Are you okay?"

            Prowl smiled at his child. "What happened, Bluestreak?"

            "The Seekers came back for a pass, but Sunny and Sides managed to get them down again, but after they shot you. Ratchet managed to get your lines sealed off, and there was an emergency surgery when you got back. You're okay now, right?" Bluestreak rambled off.

            "The battle?" Prowl prompted, needing to hear it.

            A brilliant smile spread across Bluestreak's face. "We won! Like... the war! Megatron went down after Sides managed to deactivate Starscream. Of course, that also brought down the rest of the Elite Trine, they dropped pretty quick after Screamer. Optimus got in a good shot on Megatron, and he was taken into custody. The rest of the Decepticons were easy enough to contain, especially after, get this, Soundwave stepped in and said that he wanted to negotiate a ceasefire! We really did it, Sire, finally!"

            "Finally..." Prowl murmured, sinking back against the medical berth. His optics flickered, and suddenly Bluestreak seemed to realize what was happening, his face falling and desperation filling his gaze.

            "No! No, you can't leave! You have to stay with me, I need you!"

            Prowl smiled, the hand clasped between Bluestreak's squeezing gently. "You haven't needed me for a long time, little one. You have others to care for you."

            "Please..." Bluestreak pleaded. "Please don't go..."

            Jazz stepped closer just after these words, extending a ghostly hand to skim across his creation's wing. His features were sad. 'It's time to go, Prowler.'

            "Blue..." Prowl murmured quietly. "Your carrier's calling me. It's time for me to rest."

            Bluestreak seemed torn. "But... I don't want you to go. I'm not ready to be on my own."

            "You are." Prowl replied. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe will look after you; they always have. Tell them that I've put my trust in them."

            The young Praxian's lower lip trembled, and then his face crumbled and he pressed himself into his Sire's hold, shivering against him. "I love you, Sire..." he whispered against Prowl's throat.

            "I love you too, little one." Prowl replied, already feeling his strength leaving him. The spark monitor began to flash beside him.

            'Tell him that I love him.' Jazz asked quietly, even as he stepped forward, reaching out towards Prowl. 'That I'm so proud of him.'

            "Your carrier wants you to know that he's proud of you, and that he loves you." Prowl repeated obediently, and smiled sadly, serenely, as Bluestreak shivered and choked. "You will do fine, Bluestreak."

            Jazz took his hands, and then the pain finally fell away.