Work Text:
Jazz was pretty sure this wasn’t supposed to happen. Ghost stories were just that, stories, and yet she found herself unable to describe her current state of existence as anything else. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the afterspark, but at least she knew what had shaken her loose from there. The Allspark reconnecting with Cybertron had jarred no few souls free, and while most had fled into the planet’s crust to form a new hotspot she and a few others had found themselves, inexplicably, on the surface.
That on its own would have been strange, but not intolerable. No, the part of her new existence she hated was that she was tethered. Not to a place, or an item, but to a mech. Soundwave had bulked up some, over the years since he killed Jazz on their special rooftop. His plating was still well-polished, his colours vibrant, and no matter how hard she tried Jazz couldn’t manage to lay a single touch on him. Not in anger, as she had first tried, nor in compassion when her rage eventually burnt out. At least the floating tentacled Things seemed incapable of sensing her, which was a small blessing. She didn’t want to find out what would happen to her if she got somehow hooked up to one of those helmets every mech in this disturbing room was wearing.
Her tether, small mercies, was long enough that she could at least drive a circuit around Soundwave when she got so bored she thought her processor would melt out her audials. She was just approaching the room’s central pillar when she felt it, a tug on the tether, yanking her sideways. She flipped out of altmode and ran back towards Soundwave, dodging between the rows of silent, unmoving mechs. Soundwave’s spot, when she reached it, was empty, and a moment later she felt the tether pulling on her again. So that was what it felt like when Soundwave moved to the limit of the tether, huh?
She kicked off the ground, willing herself to float, and let herself be dragged after Soundwave as the mech tore through ruined streets. Jazz wasn’t sure how much of the destruction was from the war, or the invasion, or just plain old weather, but regardless of what was responsible the damage was immense. She only pegged where they were about a block and a half from Maccadam’s, and her spark wrenched off-axis at the realization that she no longer even recognized the city she’d called home for millions of years. Or, well, it felt like her spark went off-axis, but since she was a ghost she was pretty sure she didn’t actually have one anymore.
She set back down on the ground, and walked the rest of the way to Maccadam’s, vents catching and stalling at the sight of the interior. Perceptor and Whirl and Maccadam himself. Hot Rod, plating stained black. Two Decepticons she didn’t recognize. And in the centre of the room, frozen in an odd position and playing some of the strangest music Jazz had ever heard coming from his speakers, stood Soundwave.
Flickering.
“You can’t be here.” Soundwave said, his voice staticky and distorted.
“Too bad.” Jazz found herself in front of her ex and murderer without any recollection of moving. “You’re stuck with me.” she glanced over her shoulder at Hot Rod, and a bolt of clarity struck her. “I’m going to make sure you do better, this time.”
The light behind Soundwave’s visor narrowed. “You can’t do anything.”
“Can’t I?” Jazz reached out, and for once her hand didn’t pass through Soundwave’s frame, fingers wrapping around his neck. “You want a redemption, you need to earn it.”
Soundwave’s flickering glow faded out abruptly, the strange music going silent as the Decepticon fell forward, frame un-freezing from his odd pose. Jazz backed up to the edge of the room, keeping herself out of the middle of the action, and crossed her arms. If this was why she was here, then she would make sure Soundwave didn’t frag up this time. If it saved the lives of the Autobots Soundwave was working with now, then she would do it with a smile even. Maybe then she’d get to go back to the afterspark.