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He was bored. Bored.

Uninterested.

Everything on the organic-infested planet was dull…
Barricade growled into his energon, the earlier battle with the Autobots had left Megatron in a very bad mood, which kept the mood in the base sour and unpleasant. The leader was currently locked away in his chambers; brooding, no doubt. Leaving the rest of the army to dwell in the commons with their own brooding attitudes.
He looked around at his present company and his olfactory sensor wrinkled. Sighing, he turned his thoughts to think of things he could be doing to relieve his boredom; if only he could get his hands on his true reason for being on this mud ball:

Prowl. His former bondmate. Who, right at this moment, was just a few hours' drive from him.

He truly missed the screams and cries that escaped from Prowl; but it couldn't be helped- the war had split them apart.

And now the little whore-bot had run off to not only join the Autobots, but now he was fraternizing with that obnoxious saboteur; Jazz.
The black mech thought of the second in command bitterly; that damned bot! How dare he steal his mate away? Four red eyes narrowed in memory of their last meeting…

'…his legs looked like they were about to give under his weight, his armor was covered in energon and other fluids. Panting, trembling, he stood defiantly in front of the fallen Prowl. The Decepticon studied the strange Autobot: was he honestly foolish enough to stand in his way while he was reclaiming his bonded? Shifting his gaze to said bonded; he saw that the mech, though covered in wounds and gashes and curled in pain, was looking through agony-filled optics to look upward at his savior.
"Move."
"No."
"I'll kill you."
"Go ahead and try."
"He belongs to me, you know that right?"
"He belongs to himself, not to a low-down Decepticreep. Come near him again and your head is mine."
"…Who are you?"
Even through the visor he saw dangerously glaring optics. "I'm his bonded."
He had torn into the Autobot with no mercy; yet both managed to survive the encounter no thanks to their annoying comrades…'

Barricade snorted in irritation. He heard a snicker from his left; Skywarp, the jet sitting in the chair to his left and Thundercracker to his right. "What's the matter 'Cade? Still lost without your Autobot?"
The seeker laughed, Soundwave, from his seat across the room, turned to look at them, another recent arrival, the tank-mech Backfire held a faint gleam of interest in his optics as he watched them, and Barricade himself then smiled- an idea shaping in his processor.
"Gentle-mechs, tell me: are you …bored?" he asked in all innocence, loudly, enough so the whole room heard him.
They all seemed taken aback by the remark; were they bored? Frag yes! What was there to do for a Decepticon other than to fight or pace all day?
They didn't have to answer, Barricade grinned, standing to move to the center for everyone to see. All the Decepticon soldiers watched him with keen interest. The Saleen smiled, "We have so much time to spare nowadays, why not give ourselves something to do?"
A low murmur of intrigue wafted across the room.
"Gentle-mechs, what if I know a way for our boredom to be…relieved?" He smiled, fangs gleaming, "With, of course, help from the Autobots…"

The sun shone as if it never had before; bouncing off the landscape and making everything seem pure and peaceful. The soft sound of a slow, romantic song drifted through the air. It rooted its way back to a figure resting in the shade of a tree, sitting on an outcrop. Hands behind his head, legs crossed, and lips pulled into a content smile. He sat up and looked out over the outcrop to the land farther out; Blue skies complemented the wooded terrain and made the environment all the more beautiful. Gentle breezes caused the trees to make their own music that sang along with the quixotic ballad playing from his internal radio. The sapphire atmosphere reflected in his visor, making his image look quaint and happy; as if no war was taking place.
Jazz had simply gone for a drive, but this was much more relaxing; the only thing that could make it better was if Prowl were here with him. Ho-hum. But the police cruiser had what he said 'too much work, not enough time.' Or something like that… Jazz tilted his helm, getting a better view of this world they came to know as a second home. If the Autobots really were going to stay here, he wasn't going to complain. The energon was abundant, atmosphere was peaceful, and the music was…awesome.
'If only Prowler wanted to spend as much time with me as he does with his data-pads.' Jazz thought, a bit sourly. The mech couldn't relax, which was always subject of argument between them. Despite having a steady flow of energon, a planet that welcomed them and their people, and the upper hand in this war; Prowl always seemed to be in a flustered state of constant busy rushing. Always some report needing to be completed or files needing to be organized again.

But, being the mate of a tactician had its benefits; Jazz spent a lot of time working with Prowl, causing Jazz to be quite a sneaky planner. Even now, as the song ended and another one began, a diabolical plan to trick the Datsun into getting off work and spending some quality time with him was being formulated in his processor.

Off-lining his visor and turning up his music, Jazz lay back again and kept playing different scenarios in his head.
And thanks to the shade of the tree, he didn't even notice when shadows fell over him. A prick on his neck was all he knew, and before he could react, the drug shut his systems down.

A harsh slap across his face bolted Jazz from his forced recharge. Powering up his optical sensors he saw nothing but darkness around him. A blinding light hung over him, piercing its way through his visor and into his optics. As he turned away from it; he stared in growing panic at his hand-it was bolted down with the metal bonds of a prisoner. Quickly turning to look at the other hand; he saw the same result.Lifting his head as much as he could and trying to get past the bright light, he spotted his legs bound by the knee and spread apart. Suppressed panic filled his body as he realized he was completely immobilized, and Jazz struggled to remember what had happened. He had been mulling over Prowl's work ethics when a sharp stinging in his neck had knocked him out. 'Slag.'
"Comfy, Autobot?" a familiar jeer broke his musings. Causing the bound mech to lift his helm and search the room for the source.
A laugh erupted near him, causing him jump at the unexpected closeness. "Oh, careful; you're scaring him!" another voice teased.
Anger and defiance coursed through him. "Nah, I'd really be scared if ya'd show your ugly mugs." he laughed into the darkness. The only response was mocking laughter that rippled into his spark- which promptly seized when its owner stepped into the dim light.
Four gleaming ruby-red slit-like optics shined in the darkness.
Barricade stood, along with the six seekers, Soundwave, and Backfire, each sporting some tool of torture. Whips, knives, lasers, Backfire even had a sword… Well this day was just getting better and better, Jazz thought.
Barricade sat on the berth Jazz was strapped to, mimicking a gentle stroking his cheek. Jazz tried to jerk out of the touch- but the police cruiser just grabbed his chin and pulled his roughly to look back at his.Barricade smiled that malicious grin; fangs glinting the light.
"This is going to be fun…"

Jazz groaned at the intense pain that wracked his body. Barricade and his cronies had done all they could to hurt him, not for information, but simply because they needed something to do; to play with. They had thought to try using a small-scale bomb on his hand-leaving the room and allowing it to blow four of his digits off, they had cracked and crushed his visor with blunt batons, destroyed his chest emblem, and decided to use a medical saw on his midsection to almost cut him in half, stopping only when they had cut through his energon tanks. And while they were at it, decided to have a little 'fun' with their Autobot prisoner. They left the room laughing, happy and excited to start planning for more fun things to do to relieve their boredom.
Still strapped to the berth; Jazz could only hold out. He was lying in a pool of his own energon, the gashes ran deep and had cut into some of his nerve cables; the Porsche was in the most pain he had ever bore through. He hated this. Damn it all- he had only gone for a drive and now he was a Decepticon prisoner. Perfect…
So he lay there; bleeding and alone. And in his spark he was somewhat grateful that Prowl had not come with him, Primus only knowing what Barricade would do.
"…Prowl…"

If his spinal cord was a person- it would kick his aft for staying in that hunched position for the hours he had sat there.But at least he was done. Stretching his limbs, Prowl stood, deciding to go get some energon and find Jazz so they could go to recharge together for once.
A thought struck him when he realized Jazz hadn't come by his office to pester him every hour. Hadn't the saboteur come back from his drive this afternoon?His wings twitched, a little curious as to what had happened.Better find his bonded and find out.
Upon arriving in recreation room; he saw that his bondmate was nowhere in sight, nobody was… though he did spot his once-psychiatrist, Skyraider, playing an Earthling video game called 'Call of Duty' or something. Not surprising, she never worked or did anything productive.
Walking over to the couch she was laying back in, he touched her shoulder.
"Have you seen Jazz by chance?"
The femme only turned her head a little to face him without her optics leaving the T.V. screen.
"Huh? No, he hasn't been in here all day."
Raising an optic ridge in annoyance, Prowl flicked her helm. He was not in the mood for her short-attention span or blatant disrespect, "You've been playing this all day again haven't you?"
The femme just shrugged and returned her attention back to the game. "More or less; but if you're worried about Jazz, just relax- slagger probably fell asleep out there again and he'll be back in the morning."
Jazz had been known to doze off when the weather was nice and he was bored…
Sighing, Prowl felt a bit relieved, only a bit though, "You're right, if he comes in late; hit him for me?"
Skye snorted in amusement. "Will do."
With that he left, energon in hand. He hated it when Jazz did stunts this. Optimus didn't like it much either, but Jazz was Jazz and could very well take care of himself. He always came back fine, anyway… The third in command just cycled a few breaths of air before heading to the quarters he shared with his bonded.
He went in, locked the door, and flopped on the berth. Moaning as he flexed the muscular cables in his neck and shoulder joints, trying to stretch them and get the awful pain to subside. The Datsun finally rolled over, relaxing his joints with a sigh, thinking routine thoughts of his work and then drifting to Jazz. Was he really alright? Did something happen? Was he hurt? No, Prowl shook his helm to be rid of the thought. Despite his child-like demeanor, Jazz was fully capable of taking care of himself. He needn't worry about his mate, everything would be fine in the morning.
Though he would be curious as to why the Porsche was so late in getting back to the Ark. Prowl then started to settle himself into a light recharge. Or at least he would have succeeded if a ripple of pure, undying pain flashed across his mental link he shared with Jazz. Feelings of panic and loathing were enough to jolt him upward, and a single, unspoken calling for him was enough to make him realize that his bonded wasn't just oversleeping somewhere in the desert.
"…Prowl…"
He felt cold for a minute before more pain set in. Pain ripped into every joint in his body, and he couldn't help but let out a strangled cry of pain that was not his own. It gripped him, and everything started to go black. But the pain wasn't on his mind as he went into stasis, only Jazz. What had happened to him?
Jazz…