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The Nemesis would follow the Ark, assuredly, and it would likely do so even faster than the Autobots expected. But until it appeared on the Ark's scanners again, they could take the time to plot a new course and lick their wounds.
"The bridge is yours until next shift, Sideswipe," Optimus finally said, after all the urgent decisions had been taken. Sideswipe simply nodded, as he was usually the one in charge of flying the Ark through the immensity of space.
Now, Jazz thought, Optimus just needed to clean up a bit before seeing Ratchet. The medic had of course already scanned everyone, including the Prime, as the Ark was taking off. But after everything that had happened on Aquatron, only a real medical examination from a trusted bot would put Jazz's, and Optimus's, mind at ease.
But first, to remove those energon stains from Optimus's frame. The Prime let himself be led to a more private room, one where they could let their guard down without worry. Jazz tried his best not to be troubled by how easily Optimus was following his lead, and told himself that his friend was simply tired.
And with good reason. The complete debriefing would happen later, once everyone had had the chance to rest, but Jazz had heard about what Optimus had been doing while he had been separated from the Autobots. If Jazz himself was worn out by the fighting, Optimus, who had to do the same but alone, must have been exhausted.
So here they were now, Optimus sitting quietly, rubbing off the dried energon from his frame while Jazz was subtly taking notes of areas for Ratchet to focus on afterwards. There were a few gashes on Optimus's arms and legs, evidently from fighting an ax-wielding opponent, that he could easily match with specific moments of his friend's fight against Megatron. Optimus was always coming back from those hurt in some way. There were also quite a few dents on his plating, and his paint was scratched in many places. It was far from a satisfying condition, but if Optimus had been fighting half an army of Sharkticons and an upgraded Megatron almost by himself, it wasn't such a bad state.
But there were still some spots on Optimus's back that he couldn't reach.
"Do you mind if I help you?" Jazz asked. When Optimus accepted, he grabbed another cleaning cloth and started scrubbing the gaps of the armor too.
It seemed as if there was an almost-endless supply of dried energon flakes from every interstice, falling from beneath shifting armor plates, sticking to rotating joints. At least Optimus's self-repair had taken care of his actual injuries. It was all confirmation of harsh battles, and Jazz knew that Optimus could hold his own in those and give as good as he got. He still didn't like seeing his old friend hurt.
"How do you even manage to still have energon stuck there? You were underwater for so long…" Jazz wondered out loud.
"I'm pretty sure some of it is Megatron's," Optimus indicated.
"Oh. I'll have to burn this cloth afterwards, then," Jazz said.
Optimus chuckled at that, but didn't try to change his mind. He was well aware that Jazz's dislike of Megatron was almost as personal as his own.
In the end, they got done with the bulk of the cleaning. Everything else, the buffing, the repainting, could wait until after Optimus had received a clean bill of health. Jazz still didn't move. His cloth kept going over a dent on the edge of Optimus's shoulder plate, over and over, as his mind drifted to dangerous places. He just couldn't shake off the thought that an injury of this size would have been a serious one for Orion Pax. Thank Primus for Optimus's strong armor.
"…Jazz?" Optimus called out softly. "Is everything alright?"
Jazz answered with a noncommittal hum. Optimus didn't insist, and let him take the moment he needed.
At long last, Jazz just let out a sigh and let his head fall softly on Optimus's shoulder. It landed with a very soft bonk, and Jazz decided on the spot to be entirely honest.
"…I was worried about you," he admitted softly.
"Jazz-"
"No, I was. I didn't know where you were, only that you were in a death trap with the one mech who wants to kill you the most."
Maybe that was the only thing that allowed him to spill his fears, that Optimus couldn't look at him. His only witness was the evidence of unassisted fighting on his friend's back. He should have been there. He should have protected Optimus.
"I wanted to get you out of there, I really did," but the Sharkticons had attacked, and he'd had to protect all the other Autobots, and he couldn't get Starscream to cooperate at all, "it's just-"
"Jazz," Optimus cut him off and turned around.
Optimus took Jazz's hands in his own. The size difference was simply ridiculous, Jazz thought, feeling the shadow of a smile want to sneak its way into his face at the idea.
"I'm here now," Optimus said quietly. "I'm fine-"
Jazz looked pointedly at the deep cut in the middle of Optimus's chest plate.
"-I will be fine. We have all overcome the obstacles we were facing today, old friend. And it's because I knew that you would take charge in my absence, that I was able to overcome mine."
"…Okay," Jazz said. There was a lot more he wanted to say, but he needed more time to sort through those feelings. Later, maybe, they could come back to this conversation. When he didn't feel like he'd almost just lost Optimus for good.
When Jazz didn't say anything more, Optimus silently brought his cloth to his friend's face.
"What-?"
"You've got some dried energon there," Optimus said, rubbing a spot near Jazz's vents. He hadn't noticed.
"Must have come from the Sharkticons," Jazz noted. He tried his best to keep his voice as light and level as he could while he filed away for later the memory of sharp teeth and heavy weapons, but he had a feeling that he wasn't very successful.
When Optimus was done, he put down his cloth and, in turn, let his forehead rest against Jazz's own. Even when he was sitting, Optimus was still just a little taller.
Jazz wasn't looking anymore, but he felt Optimus's hands come to hold his own again. There was a light trembling in Jazz's hands (since when had that been happening?), but Optimus's steady presence and slow caress of the limbs were slowly calming him down.
It wasn't fair, that it was Optimus, who had went through so much alone, who was comforting him in the end.
"I'm fine, OP," Jazz finally said once he felt that his voice would be stable enough to speak. He made his speakers play a light tune that Optimus had often found calming, just to drive the point home. He felt more than he saw Optimus finally relax too then, his tired frame settling in itself. He could even imagine the Matrix's peaceful hum.
"Yes," his old friend agreed. "We will be fine."