I've put off writing this one long enough. It's a prequel to "Wonderwall", though you don't have to have read "Wonderwall" to get it. Y'dig? Anyway, I'm going to tell you right now that this whole story takes place in Jazz's MEMORIES. Which means that two scenes write next to each other may take place years apart. I'll go in chronological order, but after that I make no guarantees. Unlike "Wonderwall", updates on this'll probably be sporadic. Sorry.
Baby Bee doesn't make an appearance until later. The first couple of chapters focus on their days at the academy, okay? It's no secret that this is inspired by John Knowles' A Separate Peace. I had to read that my sophomore year and I absolutely loved it.
Also, I know it isn't the commonly accepted way, but the way I've always done it is sparklings are like babies and children, and minibots are more like teenagers. So Jazz and the others are minibots in his memories. Confused? You'll live.
Also also, since they're much younger, Prowl and Soundwave aren't quite so reserved yet.
I don't own "Transformers" or the song from which this fic gets its title.
--
How do you feel?
That is the question
But I forget you don't expect an easy answer
When something like a soul becomes initialised
And folded up like paper dolls and little notes
You can't expect a bit of hope
While you're outside looking in
Describing what you see
Remember what you're staring at is me.
--
The Porsche sat there, idly tapping his fingers, as his best friend since childhood typed some things into Teletran-1. Jazz's head was spinning. He had been right. He had been right and Prowl had been wrong, and under any other circumstances, he would have been gloating. But he just couldn't right now. Not with such a heavy feeling in his chest cavity. He almost wished Prowl would assign him some job just to get his mind off all he had lost and found. It was selfish of him – all mechs had lost someone in this war. But not all mechs saw what they had lost on the opposite side over something that could have easily been avoided.
"So," he finally uttered something, mildly surprising the police car next to him, "the more things stay the same, the more they change after all."
"Nothing endures," Prowl smiled over at him, a rare occurrence in the Datsun. "Not a skyscraper. Not love. Not even a death by violence."
"How poetic of you," Jazz moped. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It should have turned out differently. How had it turned out like this? He thought back to when he had first met the one mech who had forever changed his life…
--
"This sucks," the young mech kicked a wall, than immediately winced from the impact. "This is the absolute worst! I just can't believe it!"
"You're overreacting, Jazz," Prowl said calmly. He was always calm, a perfect contrast to how energetic Jazz was. The two had been inseparable since they realised this fact.
"I am not overreacting, you're underreacting! I mean, it's bad enough that Ratch' an' Wheeljack are goin' to the Science Academy, but then our little group is broken up even further? I can't believe you aren't upset about this!"
"It isn't the end of the world," Prowl glared. "We'll still see Ratchet and Wheeljack during school breaks, and I'm not going to be that far. My room is just across the hall from yours."
This shut Jazz up as the two continued to look for their dorm rooms, but it was still aggravating for the minibot. He'd wanted to be Prowl's roommate, not some stranger's. What if his roommate hated music? Jazz would absolutely die!
"Here," Prowl motioned for them to stop. "This is my room. That one's yours. Can you handle that, you big sparkling, or should I hold your hand?"
"Shut up," Jazz glared through the visor he always wore, and entered his room. To be honest, he was just a little afraid, but he'd never give Prowl the satisfaction of knowing that. Ever since he was created, he'd never once been on his own. If his family wasn't with him, Prowl was, and oftentimes Wheeljack and Ratchet as well. But now, he felt totally alone!
He noticed there were two recharge berths in the room. And on one sat a tall minibot with a square-ish build, as opposed to a more rounded one like his own. The strange mech didn't have wheels or wings, which was even stranger for Jazz, because he couldn't fathom having to walk everywhere. This mech – his roommate – was a deep, unique indigo colour, and also wore a visor, though his was red. His mouth was drawn tightly into a little line, as if he were biting his lip. Almost as if he were trying to keep from smiling. Or frowning.
"Uh…" Though he was extroverted, without Prowl there for security, Jazz had trouble thinking what to say. Still, he couldn't have the mech he'd be living with for the next four vorns hating him, could he? "Uh, I'm Jazz."
The roommate didn't answer.
"Hello? Did ya hear me?" Jazz demanded, hands on his hips. Still no answer. This was frustrating. Jazz disliked being ignored. "Hey! You!" He ran into the other's line of sight and started waving his hands wildly. The other gasped quietly and quickly brought his indigo hands up to his helmet, flipping a tiny switch by his audio receptors.
Oh. He hadn't been ignoring Jazz. He'd been listening to an internal radio. Which meant his first impression of the black-and-white minibot was Jazz waving his hands back in forth like a crazy mech. How embarrassing.
"Uh… sorry 'bout that… I thought ya were ignorin' me…" Jazz suddenly found the floor very interesting.
The other looked almost sad. "Sorry…" he whispered, almost inaudibly, and Jazz gasped. This minibot's voice was unlike any he'd ever heard. It was so… melodic. And Jazz could really appreciate that.
"Hey, it's fine. I listen to my radio all the time, too. 'Cept I usually dance with it. You were jus' sittin' there. I'm – "
"Jazz," the other stared at him. Jazz shivered, an odd sensation in his head.
"Heh. Telepath, eh? I've heard of mechs like that. Not supposed to exist, or so I thought. Anyway, guess ya know all about me already, but it's pretty unfair if ya won't say anything about yo'self."
"Designation: Soundwave," his roommate answered, then added quickly, "I'm new to this city…"
"Aw, don' worry 'bout that!" Jazz, an Iacon native, grinned broadly at his shy roommate, who shrunk into himself. "What? What'd I say?"
Soundwave smiled and shook his head – unlike Jazz his smile was small, and tentative. This minibot was obviously very introverted. Great. Another Prowl…
--
Between classes, Jazz was never too far from either Prowl or Soundwave. The trio were as inseparable as Jazz and Prowl had been before. And they became fast friends. Soundwave was incredibly smart and surprisingly witty when he wanted to be, which pleased Prowl whenever he got into one of his "logical, debate everything" moods.
Though Jazz had some classes with Soundwave and some with Prowl, there was only one class the trio had all together: battle training with Professor Kup.
In Jazz's opinion it was stupid. Nobody expected the battles that had been taking place in Soundwave's home city of Kaon to turn into a full-scale war. But Prowl had heard stories of an ex-gladiator named Megatron, a sadist with glowing red optics.
"Red optics? Well, that's weird!" had been Jazz's reaction. Everyone he knew had blue optics, except Soundwave, whose optics were yellow underneath the visor.
"Well," Prowl continued, "conversely that could just be propaganda. I've heard from other sources that Megatron could be a saviour of Cybertron. It's common knowledge that the council in Kaon was corrupt, after all."
"Hey, Sounds, that ain't true, is it? This guy can't be as evil as everyone's makin' him out ta be!"
Soundwave looked away, than scribbled something on a datapad. He shoved the datapad towards Jazz, covering his mouth with his other hand.
"Are you alright?" Prowl asked, concerned, but Soundwave nodded, adding:
"I am fully functional."
"Ya know," Jazz smirked, "if ya hate showin' yo' emotions so much, you should start wearing a battle mask." He picked up the datapad and stared at it for a good ten breems. Prowl stared at Jazz and Soundwave at the table they were sitting at. Finally, Jazz opened his mouth, "I can't read it!"
"It's coded," Soundwave answered, causing Jazz to pout, then smile sweetly up at the indigo mech.
"Hey, Souuuunds?" he continued to smile, speaking in a sing-song tone of voice.
"Don't start," Prowl shook his head as Soundwave smirked down at Jazz.
"You're not sweet-talking your way out of this. Decode it yourself," was Soundwave's reply to Jazz's sing-song voice. "You're smart enough."
Jazz pouted and tucked the datapad away for later. He didn't know it now, but through Soundwave he would eventually become an expert at cracking codes.
Sometimes, Kup's class was entirely physical. Prowl's hypothesis was that the old teacher got too lazy to actually teach, and that was the reason he had them run (or roll) laps, or dodge flying projectiles meant to stimulate bullets and pieces of skyscrapers. Jazz didn't mind so much though. Especially when he found out that there were records for fastest or most skilled at this or best at that. Those types of things. And he was even more intrigued to find that almost all the physical records were held by one mech.
"Ironhide," Soundwave read the name on one of the plaques.
"He doesn't live too far from Ratchet, if I'm not mistaken," Prowl elaborated.
"Oh, I've seen 'im!" Jazz's visor twinkled. "Wow, ta think he did all that! He's so cool!"
"Alright, alright, everyone settle down over here!" Professor Kup's voice interrupted the trio before Prowl could groan at Jazz. "It's your team's turn to dodge."
Sighing, the trio walked out with their team to go dodge whatever Kup's droids would launch at them.
For what seemed like orns and orns, they moved about the simulation field in the (much more dangerous) Cybertronian equivalent of dodgeball.
After some time, their turn was blessedly over, and the three walked off the simulation battlefield.
Or rather, Prowl and Soundwave walked off.
"Jazz!" Prowl whisper-shouted so as not to attract Professor Kup's attention. "What the slag are you doing!?"
"Beatin' Ironhide's records!" Jazz grinned and began to dance around the simulation field with a stylised flourish, dodging the projectiles like a robotic ballerina.
"Be careful!" Prowl glared. Jazz was so stupid sometimes. Did he have a death wish or something?
It all happened so fast, but the memory would always play in slow motion. In all his effort to show off, Jazz hadn't seen it coming. But the pain… oh, the pain… and Soundwave. Soundwave was suddenly there, gently scooping him and the pieces of his leg up.
"I told you to be careful," Prowl groaned as Kup ran over.
"What happened!?" the professor demanded.
"M-my leg…" Jazz winced. "Sorry, sir, I… I really thought I could do it."
"Soundwave, take him to med bay," Kup instructed. "Jazz, there's a reason first-years are on a time limit…"
Prowl looked on stoically, hiding his feelings of helplessness as the indigo minibot left the classroom.
But as soon as they left, Soundwave began walking towards their room.
"Uh, Sounds? Where are you goin'? Med bay's that way."
Soundwave didn't answer, instead setting Jazz down on the recharge berth and beginning to work on his leg.
"Sounds? But you're too young to be a medic."
"My maker was an engineer," Soundwave explained quietly, before going back to the leg, his face the picture of total concentration.
When he finished, Jazz noted that they'd missed their next class. Also, Soundwave looked exhausted. But not too exhausted to scold, "What were you thinking?!"
Jazz shrunk back a little. Soundwave, never one to show his emotions, was scary when he yelled.
"I'm sorry… I guess I got caught up in showin' off ta you an' Prowl, an' I stopped payin' attention ta my surroundings, an'… I dunno… I really thought I could do it. 'Sides, ya know that in a real battle, there wouldn't be a time limit like that."
"Which is the reason for this training," Soundwave glared through his visor. "You were fortunate that only your leg was hit."
"I said I was sorry," Jazz shrank back even more. "I really do want ta be prepared in case of a war, but not if you're mad at me."
Soundwave sighed – another rare sound out of him – and shook his head. "I wasn't mad, Jazz. I was worried."
"I can take care of myself, in or outta battle."
"You'd be useless in battle," Soundwave smirked slightly, to keep Jazz from being offended at this statement. Nevertheless, a look of shocked amazement passed over the black and white minibot's features. Soundwave continued, "You'd get in the frontlines and the next thing anyone knew you'd be over with the enemy, sharing your music and asking them to dance. You'd be sitting in their command posts, teaching them Cybertronian, and get things so scrambled up, nobody would know who to fight anymore."
Jazz pouted, but the only thing he said back was, "Thanks fo' fixin' me up, then."
Soundwave was silent.
As an afterthought, Jazz added, "What was on that datapad ya gave me?"
"Figure it out."
"But – " Jazz started, but didn't get a chance to finish as the indigo minibot passed out on the other recharge berth. "Primus, I really tired ya out, didn't I , Sounds?"
Not leaving his room for the rest of that day – he knew he'd get scolded by Prowl later, but that didn't matter now – Jazz set to working on decoding Soundwave's datapad. Finally, he figured it out:
"Megatron isn't as evil as the mechs here in Iacon say he is," read the datapad. "He's much worse."
-To Be Continued-
So what'd you think? Is their friendship convincing enough? I sure hope so.
What of Soundwave's mysterious past in Kaon? How'd he end up on Megatron's side? How does Prowl feel about all this? How will Wheeljack and Ratchet react? And how do Optimus Prime and baby Bumblebee fit into the picture? All that and more when "Through Glass" continues!
Reviews are much appreciated!