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The mission was supposed to be routine. There hadn’t been much in the way of suspicious activity but Optimus had been insistent. They needed to check out all reported Decepticon sightings. It was their duty to try and protect the unsuspecting humans from the threat they’d brought upon their world.
Jazz had volunteered, he had wanted to be involved now that he was on Earth. Plus he’d pointed out that he was the only one actually trained for this sort of recon. Optimus had been in no position to really refuse, even though Jazz would have respected any decision he made. Prowl had been selected to go with him, due to his training in hand to hand combat that the rest of the team were lacking and the fact he was fast enough to get help should they run into trouble.
Jazz hadn’t mentioned that he was also the one least likely to give away their position. He liked Bumblebee and Bulkhead well enough but their inability to remain quiet could get them killed if they were ambushed. Jazz felt more confident that Prowl could at least handle himself in a fight and he wouldn’t need to be on a constant look out for him.
Their drive to the location had been more or less a pleasant one. They’d engaged in idle conversation - what little of it Jazz could pry from the stoic, silent Prowl - and had even shared a detail or two about their respective lives on Cybertron and Earth.
Jazz did honestly enjoy Prowl’s company but the mech seemed reluctant to be around him at any given point. They’d sparred once or twice when he’d visited Earth previously and fought side by side when the situation called for it but beyond that, Prowl had made himself scarce in Jazz’s presence. When he did spend time with him, their interactions had been awkward, stilted. Jazz had taken the hint that the mech simply didn’t like him. He got that and respected the fact that Prowl never seemed to make anything personal and was always politely friendly with him when he had to be. Sometimes a bot just didn’t like you. Being in the Elite Guard, you got used to such opinions. He tried not to think about it too much. At least the rest of Optimus’s team had warmed up to him. They were definitely easier to work with than Sentinel.
Approaching the coordinates, Jazz transformed and frowned. They’d been driving for hours and were now in a neighbouring state in a run down area on the outskirts of Indianapolis. “There’s nothing here,” Jazz stated as he walked through the desolate street of what could only be described as an abandoned town.
Prowl transformed and followed silently in his wake, his brow creased into a frown. “It appears we’ve been misled.”
Jazz turned to face him. “Which means they might have had another target in mind and wanted to improve their chances by splitting up the team,” he pursed his lips and opened his comm. “Jazz to Optimus, OP do you read me?”
Prowl came to a stop beside Jazz and waited, his frown deepening when Jazz repeated his greeting with more urgency, then resorted to comm’ing Ratchet and then Bulkhead. When the guardsmech shook his helm, Prowl tried his comm to no avail.
“We’re being jammed,” Jazz stated quietly, his sharp gaze wandering over the surrounding buildings. “Let’s keep moving, passive scans,” he commanded in a hushed tone. “Something doesn’t add up.”
The town looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years, much like the warehouse they’d claimed, Prowl thought to himself. He and Jazz had each taken adjacent sides of the street and Prowl was currently investigating a large dilapidated factory. He could have sworn he’d seen a shadow at one of the windows and hadn’t hesitated to check it out. Having become a more responsible mech while on Earth, Prowl did inform Jazz of his whereabouts before he disappeared.
The building was quiet, eerily so, it was peculiar and somewhat frustrating. Venting an annoyed sigh, Prowl reached the top most floor of the building and having found nothing was now heading back to the street.
****
Jazz glanced up as he past the building Prowl had entered a short while ago. He was scouting out the opposite side of the street but finding nothing. The report must have been faked. He caught sight of Prowl at one of the windows of the top floor and threw him a wave, receiving a nod back before Prowl turned and vanished out of sight. Jazz kept looking but something caught his attention in the next window from Prowl. A shadow that quickly disappeared!
Visor brightening, Jazz opened his comm. to Prowl, trying to warn him. Someone, something was in the building with him but it wasn’t showing up on scanners. “Prowl, be on your guard there’s someone in there with you,” greeted by silence, Jazz tried again. “Prowl can you hear me?” Nothing. The signal was jammed. “Frag,” Jazz swore, rushing inside the building and scaling the stairs at top speed.
He barreled straight into Prowl who was on his way down the stairs, at top speed and just managed to catch the slender mech to stop him from falling to the ground, as he steadied himself.
“Jazz, what is it?” Prowl exclaimed, slightly stunned by his sudden appearance.
“I saw someone,” he stated urgently. Spark pounding, relieved that Prowl was alright, Jazz pulled out his standard issue weapon and gestured for Prowl to move slowly with him as he headed back up the stairs to the top floor. “They were in the next window, they followed you, I’m sure of it,” Jazz whispered back at Prowl, noting that the mech already had a shuriken in either hand, ready to strike.
Passively scanning, Jazz picked up nothing and giving Prowl a nod he kicked open the door and raised his weapon, ready to shoot at the slightest provocation. The room was empty. Gesturing to the doorway leading to the next room, Jazz crept silently along the wall, keeping his back to the wall and his optics on the doorway. Prowl remained in his line of sight and pressed against the wall on the other side of the doorway.
Sharing a glance and a nod, Jazz headed in first and scanned the room. Apart from the odd disused machinery, the room was empty. Lowering his weapon, Jazz frowned. “Nothing,” he looked back as Prowl joined him. “I could have sworn I saw something.”
Prowl hummed in agreement. “I did as well, which was why I was in here in the first place,” he replied quietly. “Whoever, whatever it is, they’re very good at blocking our scans and our comms.”
“Come on, we’re at a disadvantage in here, whoever they are, they want us, they’re going to have to come to us,” he murmured, placing a hand on Prowl’s shoulder and heading out of the room.
At the top of the stairs, Jazz took a last glance back at the room as he turned towards Prowl his sensitive audios picked up a soft whine and a sudden click. Optics flaring bright behind his visor he rushed Prowl and tackled him to the ground as the room exploded in a shower of electro pulse rifle shots behind them.
Covering a stunned Prowl, Jazz waited for the click the shooter had to reload, indicated by the soft click of his weapon. "Run! RUN!" He hollered, hauling Prowl to his feet and shoving him on ahead as he fired his weapon back into the room and sprinted after Prowl. He couldn't defend them here. They were at a disadvantage, Jazz wanted the fragger on his terms and to make sure Prowl wasn't a target. The mech could hold his own in a fight but Jazz's protective instinct had already kicked in. It was the nature of a guardsmech to put himself in harm's way in order to protect others. This was something Jazz believed and wouldn't hesitate to do.
Thankfully Prowl didn't question or argue he obeyed the command and practically flew down the flights of stairs, constantly checking that Jazz was behind him. At the last flight he pivoted over the railing and landed solidly at the foot of the stairs. Jazz wasn't far behind but to Prowl's horror the guardsmech crumpled on landing with a sharp cry of pain.
“Jazz!” Prowl was by his side instantly and looked up as whoever had shot at them hit the stairs and was coming for them at a rate of knots.
“I’m hit,” Jazz hissed, clutching an arm about his middle as Prowl helped him up. “Prowl you gotta move, you’ll be faster.”
Prowl pulled a face and curled an arm about Jazz’s waist while taking hold of his arm and supporting around the back of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere without you, now move,” he snapped, much to Jazz’s surprise.
Not one for arguing in a crisis, Jazz leaned on Prowl’s slighter frame and forced himself to move with him. Their attacker was gaining ground and would be on top of them soon enough. They needed to find a safe place to hold up until they could get help. “Head into the city,” he uttered through gritted denta. “More places to hide.”
Prowl didn’t say anything and simply guided them towards the city lights glittering not too far away. They had to hurry though their assailant would be on the lower floor now. Without warning, Prowl jerked to the right, tugging Jazz with him as shots rang out behind them. He looked frantically around the building for some place they could hide.
“That way,” Jazz hissed pointing up ahead and out the back of the old residential block of flats that hadn’t been lived in for some time. “Scanned it earlier, can hide there.”
Nodding, Prowl tightened his grip on Jazz causing him to wince and rushed for the rear exit. Jazz pointed to a grey square metal building and leant against the wall when Prowl let go of him to open the door. It was stiff, slightly rusty but strong. Not Cybertronian strong but it would do to buy them time.
Prowl looked up and spotted their assailant stopping at the front door they’d entered and turning slowly to stare at them. “Soundwave,” he growled darkly.
“Another day, Prowl,” Jazz stated, grabbing Prowl’s arm as his fingers tightened about a shuriken and pulled him inside the shelter. “Did you really think you were going to attack him with that?” Jazz asked irritably over his shoulder as he shut and locked the door.
“I could have done something,” Prowl retorted hotly, visor flaring bright at the admonishment.
“Mech, did you see what he was armed with, he would have fried your circuits before you’d got near him,” wincing, Jazz made his way down the adjacent steps and stepped into an old looking room, packed full with organic material and archaic looking weapons.
“What is this place?” Jazz mused as he slid down to the floor gingerly, propping himself up against the wall, watching Prowl as he closed and locked the trap door above them and then removed the steps. It would buy them some time, not much by their standards but some. It was better than nothing.
“It’s a bomb shelter,” Prowl stated simply, looking around the room. “Probably from world war two,” he explained, absently wandering around the small space and inspecting the shelves and their contents.
Jazz acknowledged with a grunt. Seemed that Cybertronians weren’t the only race with a penchant for world ravaging wars. Onlining his optics behind his visor, not remembering when he’d offlined them, he was greeted by Prowl’s concerned face hovering over his. “Hey,” he grinned weakly. “You’re a sight for sore optics,” he quipped lightly, cancelling the alerts flickering across his HUD.
Prowl gave him a funny look before looking over his plating. “You’ve been hit,” he declared with a pinched, worried expression.
Jazz gently lifted his hand pressed across his middle and let out a short, quiet laugh. “Yeah, looks like,”
Gazing at him in earnest, Prowl knelt beside him. “Tell me what I can do.”
Pulling out a field repair kit from his subspace, Jazz handed it to Prowl. “You’re going to have to use some field training.”
Holding the repair kit like it was about to break, Prowl looked down at it before meeting Jazz’s gaze. “I… I don’t have any…” he stammered quietly, his frown deepening.
Nodding, expecting as much, Jazz placed a hand over Prowl’s and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll talk you through it.”
Inhaling deeply, Prowl placed the kit on the floor and opened it. “Okay,” he looked to Jazz expectantly.
Jazz moved his hand, revealing congealed energon mixing with fresh and his visor flickered when pain flooded his systems at the release of pressure. “First… you need to scan the wound, make sure there’s nothing stuck in there.”
Prowl looked at the field kit for a klik and picked up the scanner and held it over the wound, pulling a face when it beeped angrily at him.
“You need to scan, mech,” Jazz grinned faintly and made a sweeping motion with his hand.
Frowning, Prowl did as instructed and the scanner flashed up green after a few kliks. “It’s clear.”
“Alright, take this,” reaching for the kit beside him with a shaky hand, Jazz tapped a long thin device. “You need to clean out the wound, so you can see what’s damaged.”
Swapping the instruments, Prowl held the long tool over the gaping wound.
“Lower, it’s a basic suction tool,” Jazz explained, his helm resting against the wall, his visor dimming as his energon levels dropped below critical.
Prowl didn’t say anything and just did as he was told. He activated the tool and it sucked up the spilled and congealed energon, storing it in an attached compartment. There was a lot. Too much. He frowned as he cleared as much of it as he could and peered into the hole. “Okay, I can see the damage,” he looked up only to find Jazz’s visor had gone dark. “Jazz?” He placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, his concern and fear growing. “Jazz, please stay online, I need you…”
“Need me, huh?” Jazz drawled, visor lighting dimly as a weak smile tugged at his lips.
“Need you to help me fix you,” Prowl added quickly, despite smiling faintly with relief. “I can see the injury, tell me what to do.”
Pointing to a small device, Jazz inhaled sharply and shuddered as a wave of pain rippled through him, he had lost too much energon. Prowl didn’t need to know that right now though. “That’ll seal the wound, m’afraid you’re going to have to get your hands dirty.”
Lip components pinching into a pert little pout of concentration, Prowl grabbed the tool and bracing one hand on Jazz’s plating he dipped the other halfway into the wound, visor flickering when Jazz tried to stifle a cry of pain and squirmed uncomfortably. He activated the tool and tried his best to hold it steady while it cauterized the torn energon lines. Finished, he didn’t wait for Jazz to tell him and simply picked up the suction tool and cleaned out the remaining energon.
“That’s a clean seal there, Prowl, thanks,” Jazz murmured, his speech slowing down and becoming slurred. “Don’t think I’m gonna be able to…t--”
“Jazz… Jazz!” Prowl exclaimed, fear rippling through his spark as Jazz’s helm lolled to one side, his visor dark. Scanning him, Prowl cursed softly as he detected Jazz’s critically low energon levels. Rummaging through the repair kit he pulled out an energon ration and then pulled his own from his subspace. It would have to do but how to get it into Jazz?
Feeling panic begin to rise as Jazz’s energy levels dropped even more, Prowl picked up the only instrument he hadn’t used yet. It looked like it had never been used and when he activated it, he almost dropped it as a pump switched on in the attached compartment and a sharp, long, thick, needle shot out of one end. He deactivated it and wasted no time in pulling the compartment free. Filling it up with both their rations, he reattached it and then stared at Jazz’s frame. He was slipping into stasis and if Prowl didn’t do something quickly, Jazz wouldn’t be coming back out of it. This caused Prowl’s spark to quiver in fear and panic.
He didn’t know the guardsmech all that well and whenever Jazz visited Earth, Prowl had made himself scarce. Not out of dislike but out of an indescribable, horribly frustrating and almost burning desire to kiss the mech senseless. It was something that had gripped Prowl shortly after their first meeting and had left him stricken whenever he was in Jazz’s presence.
Lifting the makeshift syringe, Prowl let it hover over Jazz’s chest above his spark chamber. He didn’t know if it would work in time but it seemed like the most logical place. All energon was circulated through the spark and the spark chamber. “Please work,” Prowl whispered, gazing worriedly into Jazz’s face before pressing the device to Jazz’s chest and activating it. He winced as the needle punctured through his plating and he watched as the chamber filled with energon slowly emptied. Once it was empty the device deactivated of its own accord.
Looking at Jazz, Prowl scanned him again and wilted with relief when he observed his energon levels slowly climbing. It would be enough to keep him alive until help arrived. Hopefully.
They were very over due for their check in and so Prowl knew Optimus would move quickly. Replacing all the tools and sealing the repair kit, Prowl sat beside Jazz and vented air softly. He silently willed them to hurry. Glancing down, he tentatively reached out his hand and brushed his fingertips over Jazz’s fingers, before gently picking it up and cradling it with both his own, thumbs lightly caressing the plating of his hand as he studied Jazz’s face with a mixture of worry and unspoken feelings, he knew he could never voice. “Hold on, Jazz,” he murmured looking back down at his hand. “Please don’t leave me.”
****
Optimus and his team, having realised that Jazz and Prowl had been sent on a Decepticon decoy, following a surprise attack on the warehouse; immediately set out to look for the two ninjas. It had taken them almost a full day to find them and subsequently force Soundwave into a grudging retreat. By that time they’d been missing for three days.
They’d relied on Ratchet’s stronger life sign scanner to find them huddled together, against the far wall of an old bomb shelter. Both had been unconscious due to low energy levels but they were alive, Jazz only just, much to Optimus’s relief.
****
“It was some good field repair,” Ratchet was commenting to an only half listening Jazz. “He did a good job for someone who never signed up,” he added with a smile.
“Yeah,” Jazz replied with a nod. “Mech had my back.”
“And you his from the way he told it.”
Jazz glanced at Ratchet and shrugged. “Just doing my job,” he smiled. “How did you find us?”
“Scanner and Prowl had kept his comm. transmitting despite the signal being jammed and set it so if he fell offline it would be the last thing to stop working,” Ratchet explained.
“Quick thinking,” Jazz complemented, glancing towards the medbay doors. He didn’t much like being in medbays on a good day.
Ratchet gave Jazz a sidelong look. “He was obviously worried about you, found him holding your hand,” his mouth twitched into a smirk when Jazz shot him a sharp look. “Didn’t want to let go either when we tried to move you both.”
Jazz frowned mildly. “What are you trying to say, Doc?”
Ratchet shrugged and turned to his machines. “Maybe somebody doesn’t avoid you because of you,” he stated cryptically. “You’re good to go, don’t let me see you in here anytime soon.”
Jazz pushed off the berth and gently fingered the weld patch on his middle. Ratchet did neat work, he mused with satisfaction. Heading out of the medbay, Jazz halted in his tracks when the door closed behind him. He looked to the right where he knew the team would either be watching the television or playing computer games. Well, Bumblebee would be at least. Then he looked the other way. Towards Prowl’s room. Pursing his lips, Jazz contemplated it for a few seconds before shaking his helm. “Don’t be a glitch, Jazz,” he scolded himself softly as he headed towards the noise of the television.
A few seconds later, Jazz passed the medbay again, this time going in the opposite direction.
****
Prowl was sitting at the base of his tree, cross-legged and humming softly. He’d made a full recovery, which wasn’t surprising given that he’d only suffered from mild energon deprivation. Jazz had seen to it that he hadn’t been hurt and had almost lost his own life in the process. Frowning, his hum faltered and Prowl’s visor came online along with a heavy vent of air. Distracted again.
Looking down at his lap, he pressed his mouth into a thin line and clenched his fists, he needed to get it together, focus and stop dwelling on things that could never, would never be.
Just as he was about to attempt another meditation, his field of vision was suddenly filled with a pair of white legs standing directly in front of him. Peering up slowly, Prowl gave Jazz a quizzical look as the mech grinned brightly down at him, almost comically. “Jazz…” Prowl started slowly. “Are you lost?”
“That depends,” Jazz answered cheerfully, visor locked with Prowl’s as he stepped back to allow the black and gold mech to stand.
“On what?”
“On how you feel about me being here.”
Prowl opened his mouth and found he didn’t have anything in the way of a reply. He could lie and tell Jazz he was irritated or he could tell him the truth. This was his opportunity to speak up. “I… don’t mind,” he stated simply, knowing it sounded weak.
“Not minding is a good start,” Jazz replied with a smirk, taking a step closer into Prowl’s space. “I was kinda hopin’ for more though.”
“Oh?” Prowl’s visor brightened in surprise. “How so?”
Jazz chuckled, Prowl could be so stubbornly obtuse at times. “Just going out on a limb,” he explained, meeting his gaze, his visor glowing softly at Prowl as he tentatively reached out and took a hold of Prowl’s hand. “I was hoping that maybe I hadn’t mis-remembered or misheard you asking me not to leave you…”
Intakes catching, Prowl looked down at their hands and slowly, curled his fingers around Jazz’s. “You didn’t mishear…” he murmured softly, finally meeting Jazz’s gaze as the guardsmech took another almost hesitant step forward, bringing them almost flush.
“S’good,” Jazz smiled beatifically. “That’s what I was hopin’ for,” he ever so gently reached up and ran his thumb along the curve of Prowl’s cheek, before cupping his face and leaning closer to press a chaste kiss onto his lips.
Too shocked to do much other than stand there and stare at Jazz. Prowl felt his spark flutter and dance at the tentative touches and the shy kiss and almost unconsciously, leaned into Jazz, stealing a coy kiss of his own, much to Jazz’s delight.
****