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Optimus Prime studied the still-asleep form of his second in command beside him. Jazz's plating rose and fell with each in-vent and ex-vent, tickling Optimus's abdominal plating. The two of them had stayed up sort through records and battle reports, and by the time they'd finished, Jazz was on the verge of passing out, and Optimus developed the worst case of dry-optics since his archivist days. Ever since Aquatron, the second-in-command had refused to leave his side, often times standing guard outside his habsuite and accompanying him around the Ark like a remora on a cybershark. It would've been quite amusing if Jazz hadn't been so quiet through it all; instead of his usual tomfoolery and joking, he had become uncharacteristically reserved. Others noticed it as well—both Sideswipe and Ironhide had brought up the second in command's out-of-place mannerisms in personal meetings before, and Prowl had recommended Optimus to convince Jazz to take a day off. As far as everyone knew, this behavior had been the result of residual anxiety from almost losing Optimus, but the red and blue mech knew something else was at play.
"How long have you been staring at me?"
Optimus blinked. Jazz was gazing up at him, blearily rubbing an optic under his visor. "I had been staring?"
This earned him an optic ridge-raise and chuckle. "What else could you be doing?"
"How are you feeling, Jazz?"
"Hm? Much better than before, thank you," The shorter mech flashed him a crooked smirk. "What's on your processor? Have you recharged well?"
"I'm… a little worried about you."
"Pardon me?" The playful look on Jazz's faceplates melted into an expression Optimus couldn't quite pinpoint. "Primus, OP. What a sentence to wake up to."
"A lot of us noticed that you haven't been yourself lately," Optimus sat up slowly. "I'm always here to listen, old friend."
"Uh... It's alright. You really don't have to worry about me," Jazz grinned, but his smile didn't reach his under-optic area. "It's too early for this."
"Jazz, work with me here."
"Seriously, I'm fine."
"That is up for debate."
With an exasperated huff, Jazz rolled over with his back to Optimus. "You don't need more on your plate, mech."
"This implies that there is something bothering you," Optimus rested a servo on his best friend's shoulder, his thumb tracing old dents and scratches on the armor plating. "I want to help."
"I…" Jazz grimaced as he fidgeted uncomfortably. "Optimus, had I ever appeared disloyal to you?"
"What?" Optimus frowned. Despite his constant complaints and snide remarks, Jazz, his oldest friend, had always been the first to follow him no matter the cost. He was the one who had helped Orion Pax obtain travel permits to see Megatron in Kaon, and he was the first to back him up during the senate hearing all those millennia ago. No one had done so much for Optimus had Jazz had. "Is this about what-"
"What Megatron said? Yes," Jazz finished for him, his voice barely above a whisper. Optimus had never seen him look so disgusted.
"Jazz, you're the most loyal mech I know. There's no possible way you'd ever betray me— I'd be offline by now."
"That's the thing," Jazz rubbed his forehelm before turning to Optimus, his derma curling in a self-mocking smile. "Have you ever felt guilty for something you didn't do? I would never tried plotted against you, and I would never try to assassinate you. Still, I feel like I need to purge my tanks. It's irrational. It's stupid. However, I can't get rid of this… feeling. It's like I need to prove something, even though I don't have to."
Back on Aquatron, Optimus barely had time to hold back the normally-cool-and-collected Jazz from lunging at Megatron when the former gladiator assserted that Jazz had betrayed him. Jazz was more than smart enough to know that Megatron was trying to provoke him, and it's a ridiculous and foolish claim to entertain, but Optimus never anticipated these words cutting so deep under his plating. "… Jazz, I must apologize for not looking after you. I shouldn't have let Megatron say that to you."
"Don't say that, OP. It really isn't your fault, and it'll go away in the next day or so," Jazz shrugged as casually as he could.
Optimus furrowed his brow. "Ratchet told me you'd been overworking yourself and stressing yourself out too much. You may take today off, and we can stargaze later at-"
"See? This is why I didn't want to tell you about this. You're worrying when you don't need to."
"Jazz, you're my best friend, and I want to worry and care for you. Please just take a break."
"Primus, can you please stop that?" Jazz flipped himself around so they were facing each other directly, frustration radiating off of him like bromine vapor. "You don't need to do all of this. Stop it."
"I need to do 'all of this'."
A few minutes of tense silence passed before Jazz rested an arm limply over his visor. "… I'm so sorry for snapping at you like that, Optimus, I truly am. I don't know what came over me."
Optimus didn't say anything. Instead, he sank back down into the berth and hugged Jazz from the side. The shorter mech stiffened before slowly relaxing into the warm embrace. "There's nothing for you to apologize for, Jazz. You were just tired."
"But-"
"Jazz, I order you to remain silent."
"Pulling rank, huh?" Jazz lolled his helm to the side to face his commander, a tired but soft smirk playing at the edge of his derma. "… Fine. I'll notify Prowl about taking today off."
"If he gives you trouble, just tell him that I approved."
"Hmph. I rank above him anyway. Anyways, in return, you owe me an entire night's worth of drinks once we beat the brakes off the Decepticons and end the war, assuming we aren't killed and Maccadam's hadn't been bombed to slag."
"Alright, alright."
"Promise me that, okay?"
"I promise, Jazz."
After a moment, Jazz reached around to hug the bigger mech. His servoes were warm against Optimus's plating, and the taller mech sighed contentedly. "… How are you now feeling now?"
"… I feel much better." With a purr of his engine, Jazz rested the side of his helm against his chassis. "Thank you, OP. I don't know what to do without you. "
"I feel the same towards you, old friend. Now go get some rest. You'll need energy to assassinate me in the future."
"Seriously, mech! If you keep this up, I might end up smothering you with your own pillow!" The white sports car snorted before bursting into peals of melodic laugher.
That, Optimus thought with a smile. might be my new favorite sound. "Good luck with that."