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Jazz was sitting on the ground, somewhere on some organic planet, if the 'grass' around him was anything to go by.
He didn't flinch or react in anyway when Prowl settled next to him beyond a 'hey'.
They sat next to each other in silence, neither acknowledging the other any further. Jazz quietly looked up, analyzing the ever-shifting night sky. Blue, mysterious, full of potential and danger, just like Prowl's optics.
"You know, Blue finally scored a date with the twins," Jazz spoke up, still not turning to look over at Prowl.
"Hmm, did he now? And here I thought the twins were too dense to realize their own feelings," Prowl hummed, leaning back on his hands.
"Yep, Smokes is rolling in shanix right now, nobot thought they would get together any time soon," Jazz chuckled, knowing full well a cut of the earnings went to him.
"And am I correct in assuming I have you to thank for their get-together?" Prowl guessed, probably raising an eyebrow at Jazz, he could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
"Hey, no mech said anything against giving them a lil nudge in the right direction. I'm just being helpful," Jazz shrugged as he defended himself.
So maybe Ironhide caught onto him, but he couldn't prove anything so it all works out anyways.
"Mhmm," Came Prowl's disbelieving hum.
They lapsed back into silence, but this time Jazz wasn't going to be the one to break it.
"Blurr got in trouble with Bumblebee last orn,"
Okay, so Jazz is a liar, what's new?
"I thought they got along well?"
"They do, when Blurr isn't accidentally insulting Ratchet," Jazz explained casually, as if anybot ever got away with making any vaguely negative comment about Ratchet of all bots.
"That must've been quite a fight," Prowl commented, after all, Ratchet is the first one to defend his honor, so Bumblebee doing that for him instead implied quite a show.
"Oh yeah, it was awesome, until Optimus literally pulled them apart. Except when neither Blurr nor Bee realized it was Optimus, so they both turned to punch him for getting involved, then it was epic." Jazz laughed, knowing his visor was flashing all sorts of colors, probably staining Prowl's white plating.
He'd love to see that, but he's too busy counting the grass stalks next to his hand.
"And I'm guessing they got in real trouble, then?"
"Trouble don't cut it, Optimus scolded them in front of the whole crew because they fought in the rec room, y'see, and then he had them fix everything up and is pairing them in teamwork exercises, after Blurr apologized to Ratchet, of course." Jazz rambled, snickering as he remembered the very public dress down and subsequent punishment.
"Of course," Prowl agreed, likely nodding along.
"Y'know what makes it better? Rewind got the whole thing filmed, so now I just gotta bribe Blaster to get a copy, the blackmail I can hold over both is gonna be sweet," Jazz smiled, already imagining the stuff he can ask of them, trading boring shifts and getting their cut of the energons sweets Optimus can still be convinced to make sometimes.
Prowl didn't reply, but Jazz could feel him radiating amusement. If they were foolish enough to fight somewhere it can be recorded, the subsequent blackmail is on them.
Jazz was shifting his memories to continue the conversation when Prowl beat him to the punch.
"So, you have you been? I'm hearing a lot about Bee, Blue, Blurr, very little about you," Prowl pointed out, lightly smacking his back with the edge of his wing.
Jazz didn't realize they were sitting close enough for Prowl to do that. But he did expect the question, although he hoped he wouldn't have had to answer it.
"Been better, been worse, bout as good as I can be I suppose," Jazz answered, before he looked down at his hands, curling them up in his lap. "Y'know how hard it is to find peace during the war, this is as close as it gets,"
Prowl didn't say anything in response, but Jazz could feel him leaning in closer. It was always easier for Prowl to communicate through his em field than spoken words.
Jazz hasn't meshed fields with anyone since Prowl's mission, so it's been a while for him. Although it is normal for him to hold his field close, so nobot else noticed.
He allowed himself the small comfort of leaning into Prowl, but kept his visor down.
"Talk to me," Prowl whispered, and Jazz could feel his wings shifting, hear them flutter around. Anxious? Well, Prowl always said that listening to Jazz's rambles calmed him down.
"Hmm, Mirage and Tracks started a new club, only Bee and Powerglide have been invited," Jazz said, vocalizing the first stray memory that crossed his mind. So it was gossip, sue him.
"That sounds very selective," Prowl commented. Jazz could sense his wings stilling, good.
"Yep, something about 'only bots with humans allowed'. Dunno what they do there, haven't gotten any of them to crack, eh I'll sneak in later, they probably just gossip," Jazz shrugged, it wouldn't be the worst thing he's done with his precise skill set.
Jazz paused, quieting down as he started picking at the grass. Right, his skills. One of the most important tools of the autobots. Something vital he knows they need to win.
Jazz is known for his loyalty, which only few hold; Optimus, Prowl, Blaster. Mirage and Bee are close, but he still holds them at arms length.
And for those who earned his hard won loyalty have it for life. Which means Jazz is by extension loyal to the autobot cause. And that includes giving his all to make sure they reach their goal.
No matter what.
"They're sending me to the field again, a top priority infiltration mission." Jazz whispered, refusing to meet Prowl's eyes.
"But, they can't send you out yet, it's too soon, you haven't recovered!" Prowl objected, and Jazz could feel his wing flapping agitatedly, it was hitting his back.
But there was very little Jazz could do about it, so he wasn't going to. The best he could do right now is distract Prowl.
"It's not on me to decide, you know this. Let's talk about something else, I don't want to dwell on this while we still have time together," Jazz interjected, very abruptly switching topics.
"Fine, you're right, I don't want this to be the last thing we talk about," Prowl agreed, and Jazz just knows his wings are drooping. "But it's still not fair,"
Jazz should've known Prowl wouldn't drop the topic. He sighed and looked up at the sky again, the purple and blues swirled together. He can't see the stars.
"It's not, and nobot is happy about it, least of all Optimus. But the cons have important intel, and Mirage is still out of commission," Jazz replied with a sigh, drawing his legs up and curling his arms around them.
"And they can't send anybot else," Prowl guessed, and Jazz can hear the pout in his voice.
"Nobot else got my level of skills," Jazz agreed, Mirage was close but wonder who was the one to teach him everything?
"And this is very important intel?" Prowl asked, hoping he could argue for a way to get Jazz to stay.
"They're making a new weapon, something that could turn the war in our favor if we can get our hands on it first," Jazz explained, tucking his head into his arms.
Prowl didn't say anything else, but Jazz could feel Prowl's arm wrap around his back, tucking him into his side.
They stayed like that for a while, Prowl curling around Jazz, providing comfort. Who knows when the last time they'll be together like this again. Not for a long time, at least.
"I don't wanna go," Jazz murmured eventually, almost too soft for Prowl to hear.
He could feel Prowl's arm tense around him. It was rare for Jazz to be so vulnerable, not this openly.
"Don' wanna leave ya, don' wanna be alone with the cons," Jazz continued, regardless of Prowl's reaction, "Wanna stay 'ere with you,"
Prowl couldn't say anything, what could he say?
Jazz never actually complained about his work. Prowl knows he doesn't like it sometimes, it's isolating and taxing, and he always gets hurt.
And yet, he keeps moving forward, keeps smiling and stays upbeat. Raises everybot's morale, whether through successful missions or parties. He's everybot's go-to when they're down.
The cause wouldn't be the same without him. They need him, even if Prowl and Jazz don't like it. Which means he has to go on this mission.
Jazz raised his head, looking up at the sky, hoping for a solution. But there's nothing.
He stood up, his hands clenching into fists. Prowl is right, none of this is fair.
Jazz isn't ready for another mission, his spark is still healing, this could be dangerous for him.
But…
For Prowl, for Optimus and Bee and all the autobots that are relying on him for this. For all the autobots that didn't make it this far, sacrifices that can't be in vain. This has to be worth it.
He didn't realize he was pacing til he almost ran into Prowl. He subconsciously squeezed his eyes shut.
"Hey, vent, it'll be alright," Prowl soothed, grabbing one of Jazz's fists and carefully opened it up, interlacing their fingers together.
"No, it won't be! But I have to, for you! For all of this to be worth it!" Jazz snapped, but didn't pull away when Prowl grabbed his other hand.
Jazz huffed, waiting for Prowl's inevitable words, empty comfort. Nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
He felt Prowl let go of his hand before moving it to cup his chin, trying to tilt his helm up. Jazz stubbornly kept his visor down, now staring at the ground between them.
"Jazz, please, look at me," Prowl asked softly, and Jazz could never say no to Prowl.
Slowly, hesitantly, he raised his head, finally looking at Prowl, who looked exactly like the last time Jazz saw him. And now that he was looking, he couldn't bring himself to look away, analyzing everything that was left of Prowl.
Part of his helm was caved in, his chevron broken clean in half, his optics still bleeding. His remaining wing was torn, wires sticking out and sparking, the other no more than a stump on his back.
His legs were crushed, somehow miraculously holding Prowl up, one of his knees bending the wrong way. One of his feet was fully flat, thinner than sheet metal. One of his thighs was pure protoform, the armor stripped away.
And the worst of the damage, his chassis.
His bumper was smashed in, his shoulder chipped and barely holding one of his arms. His abdomen was littered with huge dents, some deep enough Jazz knows they dented internal organs.
His spark chamber was visible, peeking out from where bits of his bumper were straight up missing. Visible, but with no spark.
And, of course, all of Prowl covered in dried energon. His chassis, from various open wounds, was still leaking energon.
Jazz didn't know when he moved but he was now being cradled by Prowl, holding him tight. Jazz knew he was crying, distantly noting he was trembling.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, I'm sorry it's all my fault, I can't-" Was all Jazz could say, between choked sobs, clutching Prowl tightly.
"It's okay, I don't blame you-"
"You should! My information was wrong! I sent you into a trap, and you…" didn't make it back was left unsaid.
"You did what you thought was best, you need to stop blaming yourself over this,"
"But I can't! Prowl I killed you!"
"Do you blame me?"
That startled Jazz. Blame Prowl? For dying?
"How the frag can I blame you, you died, on my watch!"
"I didn't run, I stopped to let everybot else get away, I prioritized everybot else's safety over my own. I was the only casualty,"
And Jazz knew that. Knew that Prowl would be selfless enough to guarantee nobot would die without taking into account his own survival.
Jazz couldn't blame him for that, he would do the same thing. Has done the same thing, except he makes it out alive.
And Prowl didn't.
"I'm sorry,"
Jazz woke up with a gasp, immediately sitting up. His sensors going haywire, scanning the room before they settled once they deemed no threat present.
If only his spark could settle the same.
Prowl's parting words echoed around his processor. He knows it was just something his processor came up with to help him cope.
After all, Prowl never apologized, at least not verbally.
Oh, Prowl…
Shaking his helm, Jazz got up. He's not getting any more recharge, especially not in the too big, cold, empty, berth.
Prowl was right, he can't keep blaming himself, and he can't bring himself to blame Prowl. But there was still one more person responsible.
And Jazz will make sure the cons pay, that they suffer the same way they have caused so much suffering. If it's the last thing he does.
Grabbing his pad with his mission info, he stalked out of his room.