Chapter 01
Title: Saving Life
Part: 1/12
Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom
Warnings: slash, SPOILER for Transformers Movies 1+2
Pairings: Jazz/Prowl
Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=
Summary: When one mech is on the edge of being offlined forever, another mech realises the truth of his past and the destiny he is supposed to have. But what do you do, when you wake up from the brink of death just to stare into the eyes of what is supposed to be the enemy? If you happen to be an ops mech – you collect your answers of course.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^
Helpful Pointers:
Vorn - 83 years
Orn - 13 days
Joor - 8 hours
Breem - 6 minutes
Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second
Klick - 1 millisecond
"..." - Speaking
'...' – Sparkbond speaking
Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.
And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.
Also, the inspiration for Prowl's and Jazz's past was mostly taken from the fanfic 'Story of a lifetime' written by the wonderful Taralynden. This was taken with her permission. Go and read her story, you'll love it.
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Darkness. First like nothingness. Then came feelings. Happiness about life, contentment slowly evolving to worry. Anger, frustration, fear. Determination, a will to fight. Impression of a first meeting, mutual dislike. Fighting, anger, frustration. Then the first whispers of grudging respect, slowly, oh so slowly developing into friendship. And suddenly there was attraction, shyness, boldness, love? Followed by denial, giving in to lust. A request, followed by a fight. Frustration, self-loathing, a want to stay away battling a stronger need to return. Acceptance at the very last, a lost fight, giving in, wanting to protect. A bond, love and cherishment but also urgency for secrecy and the awareness of breaking rules. Buffering and masking feelings, long time of getting to know, comradeship, devastation, determination to succeed, separation, loneliness.
And suddenly there was pain, hot, searing pain accompanied by the strong urge of being sorry, of asking for forgiveness. Then, suddenly familiarity and recognition, a plea not to give up. And the darkness turned into a hazy, comfortable shade. It no longer hurt, it no longer burned. He felt himself float, simply basking in the feel of another presence within him, a well known, trusted presence. Nearly all the time, that presence within him stayed close. Just sometimes, for a period that could not be determined in a world without time, the presence seemed to draw away a bit, yet never leaving him entirely. The more often it happened the more aware he became of details. As though both their strengths seemed to waver and weaken slowly until finally that presence retreated a bit. And when it returned full force, staying as near as it could again, he felt its regrown strength which was shared with him.
That cycle repeated again and again for a long time in his dark hazy world. But eventually the feeling of contentment was replaced by the small nagging feeling of emerging, the longing to get out of the darkness, to stop floating and become aware again. And because he was never one to act against his own instincts, he gave in and left the safe haven of the haze.
Jazz came back online after three long years in stasis lock.
The first thing he noticed when his CPU powered up to awareness was pain. His whole middle felt as if someone had crushed a big Cybertronian building into it. Or maybe as if he had been cut into two. Then the first memories filtered in through his hazy mind and he sheepishly realised the latter described well enough what had happened to him.
He remembered his reason to take on Megatron, knowing full well that he had not much of a chance to survive it. In fact he was surprised that he was indeed obviously still alive and he certainly did not hover over the brick of joining the Matrix as was the last thing he remembered doing.
Curious as to what kind of state his body was after the nasty encounter with the Decepticon leader, the special ops agent enabled his check-up programs for a quick scan. His functions seemed to take a bit longer than normal, which could have been because he was low on energy. Instead of the usual two astroseconds it took more than six before he was presented with the results.
Unsurprisingly most of the problems came from his mid-section. Reports showed him a nearly half finished repair that shockingly resulted mostly from self-repair. His insides and plating must have been rejoined by sheer physical force. Not a job of a medic, that was for sure. Anyway, with wounds like these there should not have been any self repair possible. There should not have been anything possible, not even with a medic. His spark had taken too much of a toll, it should have extinguished from the damage.
Speaking of his spark, that earned a status report as well. It was weak. Not in danger of termination but still weak from the damage to his body and the lack of energon. He was running on just barely enough to stay alive. Yet, his spark was supported. His check-up program could not recognize the source of the outside strength, but that was not necessary. There was only one sensation like this and he would recognize the feeling anywhere.
The additional strength to his spark originated from his bonded, from Prowl. The Autobot tactician must have found him. And kept him alive by sparkmerging, loaning his spark's energy when Jazz's own could no longer support his damaged frame. That at least would have explained what he felt during his drifting in offline mode. The strength generated by their reunion had sustained him, but of course his bonded would have needed to fuel himself, therefore breaking the merge from time to time after Jazz's spark became strong enough to endure it.
With the system report and the analyses of what he was feeling, it was, as his bonded would have said, the only logical explanation for Jazz's current situation. Yet it made no sense at all. He certainly remembered that there had been no Autobot landings on Earth during the time they fought. There had been no Autobots at all, at least not inside their communication range and that went as far as a three orns journey beyond Earth's orbit.
And Jazz was certain he was not deluded enough to not remember that his wounds were fatal; enough to offline him within breems, he had certainly not had joors or orns. So how could Prowl have arrived in time? Curiosity ate at his processor, but in spite of all that the saboteur could not help but relish in the feeling of having his spark once again united with his bondmate's.
No matter the strange circumstances and the questions they raised, first and foremost he wanted to see his bonded, to confirm with his own optics what he felt in his spark. He knew his body was finally ready for a full wake up call, and even though everything still felt a bit sluggish, Jazz ordered his systems to life and his optics to come online.
Expecting to see glowing blue optics and maybe a worried but familiar faceplate, it was no wonder that even a mech as well trained as Jazz found himself shocked motionless when his optics came online and the sight that greeted him was unwelcome red optics surrounded by a frighteningly familiar black face with sharp angles.
Jazz had never personally had the pleasure of dealing with this mech. But just like his fellow comrades who reached Earth with him, he had received a detailed report from Bumblebee right after their reunion. Barricade, the mysterious Decepticon who had arrived with Starscream long orns before their own Autobot scout, had certainly taken care to make Bee's life difficult on Earth.
The Autobots certainly wondered about Barricade, because none of them had ever heard of that particular Decepticon during their endless war. And from the reports Bumblebee gave them, he sounded like a nasty piece of work. Certainly not one of the many unnoticed soldiers Megatron liked to use as cannon fodder.
But of course with the whirlpool of events following without a break, no-one had time to ponder over this new Decepticon too much. There had been more important things to take care of. And then they had been fighting in the human city and Megatron appeared. Jazz had never imagined he might have to deal with the mysterious Decepticon soldier right after awakening from a near-death experience.
No-one could have said that the head of special ops was not quick to gather his wits and he wasted no time in overcoming the first shock and assessing his current situation. His first instinct was to get away from that far too close face, but he realised quickly enough that he was far too weak to move much. There was also the problem of Barricade's body laying completely over his own, pressing him more or less into the ground. Not to mention that it would not be a good idea to rip out of a deep sparkmerge like this.
And that was where Jazz's processor came to a sliding halt. Sparkmerge? He blinked a second before taking a closer analysis of his condition. His first impression had been red optics, meaning enemy. Naturally that observation followed a sweep over the area for a possible escape. The sparkmerge had been at the far back of his processor, as well as the still open connection with his bondmate. But now he realised that things were not adding up.
For one, taking a closer look into Barricades faceplates, he realised that the Decepticon was barely able to look at him, even though he must be aware that Jazz was online. Additionally his body was trembling as if in fear. Now that he was really paying attention he noticed that the whole body, the way the hands steadied their position, looked like the 'Con was torn between staying just as he was or getting away from the weakened Autobot. That did not fit the description Bee had given him about the frontliner at all. Not to mention the fact that he was unable to fight anyway.
Then there was his bond. The feelings he received from his bondmate were conflicting. It was far from the usual, calm and ordered demeanour. There was an assurance of Jazz being safe. But at the same time there was fear, desperation and a worrying amount of shame. He also felt a conflict there. A conflict of wanting to stay close to his bondmate, to keep the connection and strengthen him. Yet, he also did not want to frighten him, wished to give him space so he could calm and take full access of the situation.
But, keeping the connection close when his bondmate was not even near him? And with a start realised that the emotions he felt through the bond, matched the expression of the mech that leaned over him perfectly. They fit together as if they belonged. They DID belong!
Blue visor glowing bright with shock, surprise and various other emotions, Jazz reached out through the bond, touching the consciousness of his precious bonded, the one thing that could not be faked or broken by anything, not even death.
'Prowler?'
He asked tentatively through the bond and the whole body of the Decepticon above him shuddered in response.
'Jazz!'
Prowl's answer returned through the bond, a plea, a desperate cry and relief at the same time. Jazz could not help the shock and disbelief he felt about the whole situation. Reaching out weakly with one hand he slowly touched the face above him. The face that screamed of stranger, of enemy, yet was undeniably also the face of the one mech that held a part of his spark - literally.
"Prowler, what did they do t' ya?" he croaked, out of his vocalizer this time. There was no question about who caused this shocking change in appearance. If nothing else was clear, the culprit was beyond obvious. Prowl looking like a DECEPTICON? Only the 'Cons could be behind this.
Prowl was no ops mech, never had been, therefore it was unthinkable that he had taken up a false appearance for an undercover mission, no matter how bad things might have turned out to be back on Cybertron. It was stupid and illogical to put a mech into a position that did not fit him, especially in a war.
And Prowl had been the highest ranking officer left in Cybertron. He was head of their tactical office and the original second in command. Jazz had been more or less forced to take on that position as second with Optimus when they started their journey in search for the Allspark and Prowl had to be left behind to take command of the Autobots fighting on Cybertron.
No, Prowl would never have come up with or agreed to a mission that would have had him disguised as a Decepticon. The risk was too high and the consequences in case of exposure would have been devastating. Besides his bonded was not able to perform a technique like sorcelling to conceal his identity. The body Jazz was looking at was the real one, the original. Reformatting was the first thing that came into his mind.
It must have swept through the bond as well because he could feel the confirmation of his suspicion along with a sense of deep violation. This change of appearance happened more than just against his will. Anger at the Decepticons and desperation for the situation of his bonded, no matter how little understanding of the whole picture he had right now, flooded the bond from Jazz's side as he reached out with both hands. He grabbed the head of the mech above him and gently guided it so their foreheads could touch in an intimate gesture of assurance and comfort.
And as quickly as the feelings of anger and desperation had surfaced, they vanished again, leaving behind by a feeling of utter exhaustion. Prowl immediately realised the situation with the weakening grip of Jazz's hands on his face as well as through the bond. Not daring to use his voice, the voice so different than his original one, he reached out through their bond again.
'Recharge, Jazz. You are still injured and weak. You need to conserve your energy.'
Stubbornness answered him, but it quickly turned into grudging admittance.
'All right Ah giv' in for now, Prowler. But th' next time Ah'm awake Ah will get answers from ya. Ah want t' know what's goin' on. No, Ah NEED t' know what's goin' on.'
Prowl nodded his head. He knew his bonded well enough to realise that he could not hold out on the explanation for long. It had been in the back of his processor long before Jazz had shown the slightest signs of awakening.
'Yes, you will get your answers. But for now, please recharge.'
Obedient in his exhaustion, Jazz offlined his optics. For a moment he hovered over the bridge of recharge, relishing in the feeling of Prowl holding his body and their merged sparks. He noticed sluggishly that as long as he did not look, he could very well imagine that his Prowl was holding him with that beautiful body of his and he took a surprising lot of comfort from that fact.
'Hold meh close t' ya!' he ordered before immediately falling into recharge. He never heard the whispered answer in his spark.
'Never letting go again, Jazz! Not if I can help it.'
tbc...
