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“Come on, mech, don’t do this to me.” Blaster cycled through the comm channels–open, command only and ops only–again. For the tenth time in a joor.
“Anything?” Prowl asked, voice tinged with worry.
“Nothing.” Blaster rubbed his face and resisted the urge to punch his console. He knew his equipment was not what was at fault. “He’s got six joors left before he’s officially missing in action.”
Prowl cycled his vents and nodded. “We must have faith, then. If they had deactivated him, Megatron would have already called to gloat.”
“Yeah, but if he’s lost out there in what’s left of the park?”
“I know.” Prowl cycled his vents again. “We must keep faith. Jazz is likely still alive and simply unable to contact us.”
“Yeah.” Blaster rubbed his face again, then turned his attention back to the comm channels. He would scan every channel again, and again, for the last six joors before command would declare his friend MIA and force him to stop.
-_-_-_-
The base was quiet and somber after Jazz was declared Missing in Action. No one, not even Optimus, would declare him dead but after ten full days without any word from the mech, command had to admit to at least that much. His friends, and there were many, gathered in the commissary to grieve and remember or half-heartedly plan search and rescue missions that they would never get the authorization for.
Even Prowl sat down and helped Mirage and Bumblebee plan, a mission that would have been too much of a shot in the dark for even Jazz to be willing to take on, but all three of them would have walked into the spark of Unicron Himself for Jazz if necessary. If they knew that it would bring him home.
Twelve days after Jazz was declared missing, they were sitting around a data pad and a pile of empty energon cubes and discussing the pros and cons of attempting a data retrieval mission. And Jazz walked into the room like he hadn’t been gone at all.
Prowl felt his processor stall as the mech looked around the room with a crooked grin. “You mechs look like somebot died.”
“Jazz!” Bumblebee leaped from his chair and sprinted across the room before anyone else could react. He flung himself around Jazz and hugged him tightly. “We thought you were dead!”
“Nah, not this time.” Jazz hugged the minibot back, just as tightly. “Got caught in the edge of an electromagnetic blast and knocked my comm suite offline. I was almost home by the time I was someplace I could call in, so I didn’t bother.”
“We were planning a retrieval mission!” Mirage snapped, relief and exasperation both clear in his voice.
“Glad you didn’t have to try and get an authorization for it.” Jazz’s grin didn’t falter as he looked back up at the blue mech. Then his gaze shifted to Prowl. “Sorry I worried you all.”
“Worried does not accurately convey it.” Prowl stood up and crossed the room at a more sedate pace. But he didn’t hesitate to fall into the group hug when Jazz lifted an arm toward him. “Do not do that again.”
“Ain’t in the plans, no.”
“Good.” Prowl rested his forehead against Jazz’s temple and let his worry and relief flood his processor for as long as Jazz’s other friends would give them. “Have you checked in with Optimus yet?”
“Not yet. Ironhide said I better come see you first.”
“Considering that I was about to authorize Mirage for an information gathering run, he was right. This time.” Prowl tightened his hug for a moment.
Jazz laughed softly. “So I see. I really am sorry, Prowl. We’ll work out something for the next time this happens, to me or any other agent.”
“Thank you.” The Praxian cycled his vents and lifted his head to look Jazz in the visor. “Because if you ever put us through this again, I don’t think even Ratchet will be able to save you after I get my hands on you.”
“Noted.” Jazz grinned. Then he shocked him by leaning forward and kissing Prowl on the lips. “Hope that starts making it up to you.”