A/N: I decided to split this into two chapters rather than making one big, long one-shot. This is a little darker than the other two, and I do happen to know just how sensitive such a topic can be. I really wish I'd known her better, but there isn't much I can do about it now. Oh, well. Enjoy. Review please, no flames cause I'll verbally punch you in the face.

Title: Meet You There

Characters: Jazz, Ratchet, Prowl

Summary: (sequel to Because Of You) All Prowl wants is to see him again. Will his friends let him go?

Warnings: attempted suicide, mentions of past character death, mentions of past slash

0000

You're gone away
I'm left alone
A part of me is gone
And I'm not moving on
So wait for me
I know the day will come

I'll meet you there
No matter where life takes me to
I'll meet you there
And even if I need you here
I'll meet you there
Meet You There--Simple Plan

0000

How long had it been now? Eight, ten months? He'd been living with the pain for so long now he wasn't sure anymore. Since Sari's upgrade, everything had been a cloud of agony and grief. He couldn't recall the events of the past few months clearly. He barely remembered the fight that let him retrieve Master Yoketron's helmet from Lockdown. The one thing he did remember though was Wasp's arrival on Earth. The little fragger had shown up in their base, ranting and raving that he was going to find 'Bumble-bot' and make him pay for his incarceration to the stockades. Prowl had very nearly slagged the green minibot had it not been for Jazz and Optimus holding him back. The white cyberninja had arrived on Earth not too long after Bumblebee's funeral. It had surprised the higher ups that he'd requested a transfer to the small, four-mech space bridge team trapped on Earth, but once he explained his reasons (and his friendship with Prowl), they understood immediately.

Alone in his room, Prowl vented a shaky sigh. Their last Decepticon encounter had been Soundwave's attempt to brainwash them, and even as a Decepticon, the agony that consumed his spark didn't fade. He'd nearly killed Sari, and it had taken a tremendous amount of effort to resist the temptation. He was only slightly surprised by how little he'd actually cared. Jazz had told him it wasn't healthy to hold a grudge like he was, but the porsche just didn't understand. None of them did. Primus, I'm sorry...' One by one, Prowl unclipped the mods that made up the extra armor from his frame until he was standing in his original state. With shaking servos, he removed the pronged helmet that had belonged to his master and carefully set it on the table next to his berth. 'But I just can't take it anymore.'

Time seemed to slow as he walked behind his tree, out of sight from anybot that happened to walk through his door. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he forced himself to take calming intakes and allow himself a few moments of meditation to steel his resolve. It wasn't hard to imagine the little yellow mech that he missed; the holo-scans and earth photos that decorated the walls of his room were proof of how often he thought of his other half. Prowl shuddered as he suppressed the sob that wanted to leave his vocalizer. He couldn't be weak, not now. Reaching into his sub-space, he brought out one of Ratchet's laser-scapels. Sharp and precise, the small medical intrusment would be more than enough. Retracting his chestplates, Prowl brought the scapel even his spark. 'It's the coward's way out, I know. But I want to be with him again. No matter what...' Shuttering his optics, the scapel plunged into his open chassis.

0000

Jazz onlined with a start. He wasn't sure what had roused him from stasis, but the sick churning in his tanks didn't help. His internal chronometer read 3:35 a.m., Earth time. No one should've been up at this time unless they were an insomniac which Jazz was not. Sighing, the white ninja tried to go back into stasis, but a distant noise kept him from doing so. He sat up, one optic ridge raised. 'That came from Prowl's room.' When it sounded again, Jazz slid off his berth and made for the door. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered Jazz, but since coming to Earth, he'd learned the extent of Prowl's grief. He knew that when one bondmate went offline, the other either followed them into deactivation or lived the rest of their lifestream with the pain that came from such a seperation. Prowl had been the latter, and with each passing day, it showed just how much it was tearing the mech apart.

When Jazz had first come to Earth for his transfer, he'd been absolutely shocked to see just how bad Prowl was treating his teammates, either ignoring them, yelling at them, or running away for days on end just to avoid them. That little girl, Sari, got the worst of it all. After witnessing one fight between her and Prowl, Jazz had gone after her to try and comfort her. Something he quickly learned was a mistake. Since he hadn't been there for Sari's upgrading, he hadn't been targeted by Prowl's irrational anger at his team. In fact, he was more open with his old friend and told him everything. He hadn't understood just how someone with Prowl's personality had fallen for someone like Bumblebee. Neither could Prowl, of course, but he'd simply told him that something about the yellow scout had always attracted Prowl. An Earth saying about opposites attracting was the best that Jazz could describe it.

However, the minute Jazz had started trying to reach out to the techno-organic girl, that had all stopped. Prowl didn't ignore him like he did his teammates, but he did get yelled at which was infinitely worse. As days turned to weeks, Jazz finally understood just how the rest of the Earthbound bots felt when their former teammate treated them as if they didn't exist or cursed the day they were activated. Jazz had been forced to meet Sari in secret and ignore her when she was around. It was the only way he was going to get Prowl to trust him again. Well, it had been nice to hope. Prowl's treatment of his teammates seriously affected his relationship with others that hadn't been there to the point it was difficult for him to trust anyone once they had lost that tentative foothold. It had taken months, but Jazz had finally gotten the darker mech to talk to him again though he still didn't entirely trust the white cyberninja.

Sighing, Jazz continued down the hallway, mindful of his steps and making sure to keep his weight off of his pedes. He didn't want to wake anybody. The med-bay doors were partially open, and Ratchet's curses could be heard drifting from inside. Jazz dared to peek inside and found the medic doggedly searching through his supplies, grumbling something about younglings and not respecting others' things. Smirking, Jazz lightly knocked on the door to let Ratchet know he wasn't alone. He was meet with an impatient stare as he carefully opened the door.

"Bit late to be redecoratin' don't ya think, Doc?"

"For your information, Jazz, I'm missing one of my laser-scapels. Those things are sharper than teeth on a sharkticon. I'd hate for Sari or anyone else to get cut on it," Jazz visibly winced as he imagined the little girl he'd grown fond of getting hurt by one those things.

"I'm sure it's around here somewhere, Ratch. I'll keep an optic out for it." Ratchet gave him a grateful smile and continued his search.

"By the way, what are you doing up so late?"

"Heard a noise comin' from Prowl's room. Thought I'd check on him." A worried expression crossed the ambulance's faceplate. Venting a heavy sigh, Ratchet lifted his optics towards the ceiling though Jazz knew he wasn't really looking at the ceiling but rather past it to something it seemed only he could see.

"Poor kid. I know he missses him, and I know how much pains he's in. I just wish he would realize how much he's hurting the rest of us," His shoulder struts drooped a little, a sign of his own grief and worry. He didn't turn back to face Jazz as he continued speaking, "It's been hard on all of us, trying to move on and fight for the cause without Bumblebee. Prowl's not making it any easier by blaming Sari and us for his death. Since you came here, it's been a little easier but not by much. Please. Keep an optic on him, Jazz," Ratchet turned to face him, and Jazz was shocked to see that the medic looked as though he'd aged 100 stellar cycles just thinking about the effects of the scout's death, "I'm afraid he'll do something...drastic." The Elite Guard had to suppress a shudder at the implications of Ratchet's words. Prowl wouldn't do ithat/i. He couldn't...could he?

"Yeah, I'll...I'll do that. Later, Ratch." Jazz left to let Ratchet continue his searching while he started back down the hall towards Prowl's room. His conversation with the medic had left him disturbed, and he had to force himself to walk at a normal pace to keep from waking the others. There was no way Prowl could be so miserable as to try an act of self-termination. It went against everything their master had thought them. Yet he had also thought that Prowl, silent, emotionless, serious Prowl, would never bond with any bot, let alone Bumblebee. They were from two opposite ends of the spectrum, brought together by a twist of fate. Jazz had given up trying figure out the universe a long time ago.

It wasn't long before he found himself in front of Prowl's door. For several kliks, all Jazz could do was stand there, debating if he should enter Prowl's room. Yes, he was worried about his friend and only wanted to make sure he was okay. But was he being paranoid? Perhaps he'd imagined the sounds coming from this room, and his talk with Ratchet had only served to increase that paranoia. Deciding he only wanted to reassure himself, Jazz steeled himself, preparing for either the worst or a verbal lashing from his cyberninja brother. Slowly, almost as if in a daze, Jazz opened the door and stepped inside.

The mods that made up Prowl's armour laid scattered on the floor near his berth. The pronged helm that had once belonged to Master Yoketron was sitting on the berthside table. However, Prowl was nowhere to be seen.

"Prowl?" No answer. With the moon shining through the hole in the roof, there wasn't many places the dark mech could hide. Unless he was using his holo-projector. Figuring the motorcyclist was meditating on the roof, Jazz walked around the tree to begin climbing. His optics widened when he caught sight of Ratchet's missing laser scapel laying in a small puddle of energon at the base of the tree, a small trail leading away from it. Jazz followed it to the far corner of the room, hidden by the tree from the door, and gasped in horror at the energon covered form of his friend leaning against the wall. "PROWL!"

The black and gold mech barely moved, his helm supported by his servos. The pink life-fluid staining his chassis had gathered into a pool around him. Jazz hurriedly went to kneel by the injured mech's side. A quick examination told the Elite ninja that the source of the energon was coming from inside Prowl's chestplate, leaking from the seams. Trying not to break down, Jazz gently placed a servo on Prowl's shoulder. Before he could speak, Prowl spoke, his voice no more than a whisper.

"I couldn't do it, Jazz." Soft clicks crept from the cyberninja's vocalizer, shame and guilt written on his faceplate, "I just couldn't do it."

"I sure as the Pit hope not," Jazz tried to keep his voice calm and even, but there was a small, undeniable tremor nonetheless. Grabbing a rag from a nearby table, the white mech set about cleaning up as much of Prowl's chassis as he could. The other didn't move or make a sound, or even acknowledge what Jazz was doing. The Elite guard was getting more panicked by the nanosec. No matter how much energon he cleaned from the other, more continued to flow out. At this rate, he was going to bleed out.

Slipping an arm underneath Prowl's own, he helped the motorcyclist to stand and began a slow, steady trek to the medbay, a trail of energon left in their wake. If not for the fact that the wounds were inside Prowl's chestplate, he would've looked at them himself. However, he didn't want to aggravate the injured mech who would likely take offense at someone other than Ratchet --or Bumblebee-- seeing his spark. He didn't need to cause anymore damage than what had been done already. Prowl's ventilations were slow and ragged, and his fuel pump made a nasty grating noise.

"Come on, Prowl. Talk to me. Let me know you're still here." Silence followed Jazz's near desperate plea, and the white mech feared the worst. After nearly a klik, Prowl's visor faintly flickered for a moment then settled into a dim glow.

"I...I wasn't ready...to lose him." Jazz cycled a sigh of relief. Prowl was still online. Barely. He needed to hurrry.

"Prowl, ya'll coulda been together a million stellar cycles, and you woulda never been ready ta lose 'Bee." The medbay doors were in sight. Just a few more feet. Prowl didn't respond to Jazz's comment, his processor clouding, energon still flooding into his chassis. He could feel his spark struggling to stay pulsing even as his fuel pump was giving out on him.

In the end, he had been weak, his resolve crumbling. He'd backed out an astrosecond too late, and his servos had faltered, the scapel just barely grazing his spark and instead slicing open his main line. He didn't know how much longer he was going to last, and with his conscious fading, he faintly heard Jazz calling out to Ratchet. The medic's shocked cry was he the last sound he heard before surrendering to blackness.

0000

When Prowl onlined his optics next, it was to Ratchet's worried glare. Confusion arose in his still clouded processor. Hadn't he deactivated? Hadn't he finally bled out and his spark had given up on him? A quick systems check revealed that he was still among the functioning, and Prowl was unsure if he should feel relieved or angry. He still felt weak, his spark pulsing slow and steady, but he wasn't deactivated. Ratchet stood to his left, checking to make sure the various wires connecting him to the life support and other machines hadn't been compromised. On his other side, Jazz vented a sigh of relief that Prowl had finally come out of emergency stasis.

"If you ever give me a spark attack like that again, Prowl, I'll kick your aft to the Pit and back." Prowl barely moved his helm to look at the medic. Ratchet was still scowling at him, but the red and white bot's optics gave away his own relief that Prowl was still alive. The cyberninja groaned softly and returned to staring at the ceiling, his spark throbbing in a manner that made him want to purge. He was still here, living in agony without Bumblebee. Vaguely, he recalled Jazz's last words to him and shuttered his optics.

"It's...a million stellar cycles...I could've spent...with him." Even his speech was weak, his voice strained as he forced the words out of his vocalizer. Jazz felt his spark sink. He had only said that in hopes of getting Prowl to talk and stay online until he could reach Ratchet. The medic looked at Jazz curiously, his optic ridges furrowed in confusion. Soft clicks flowed from Prowl, his visor dimmed. Ratchet and Jazz exchanged worried glances with each other before looking back at the mech on the berth. When Prowl spoke again, it was a desperate whisper, full of despair, "Why couldn't you let me die, Ratchet?"

Both Ratchet and Jazz felt their sparks stop. It never occured to them that Prowl would be upset that they'd saved him from an attempt at suicide. The white and black mech had told him that Prowl admitted to not being able to do it, and Ratchet could tell from the angle of the cut that he hadn't meant to slice his main line. It had taken Ratchet nearly an entire solar cycle just to make sure Prowl didn't go offline under his care. Jazz had been absent for most of that time, cleaning away the energon trail leading from Prowl's room to the medbay and making sure the others didn't know what had happened. Things were bad enough without Optimus throwing a fit.

"Prowl, self-termination would've sent you to the Pit, and you know it. Even if you'd gone offline, you wouldn't have been reunited with Bee." Jazz watched helplessly as his friend turned away from him, frame shaking. Ratchet sighed, placing a comforting servo on the mech's shoulder. Prowl didn't even acknowledge him.

"He's right, kid. Bumblebee wouldn't have wanted you doing this to yourself either." Ratchet's servo was swatted away. Prowl curled in on himself, optics shuttered, trying to block out the two mechs. After awhile, he heard Jazz get up and leave, mumbling something about keeping the others away. Ratchet hooked up an alarm to let him know if any problems came up and retreated into his office. Left alone, Prowl let his mind wander, thinking over what the other two had told him and cursing himself for being so weak.

Why couldn't he have gone offline with Bumblebee that day? It was so much more preferable than living in this horrid, waking nightmare, spending every klik in constant agony, just waiting to die. It had taken him weeks to work up the nerve to decide to try self-termination. Sneaking into Ratchet's medbay for the laser-scapel had just been the easy part. Actually attempting the act had been...terrifying, but the throbbing pain of his ruined spark convinced him to try.

When Bumblebee's last words had flitted through his meta, he'd lost that conviction and tried to stop himself. He wouldn't admit it, but he knew Ratchet was right. There was no way Bumblebee would condone what he'd tried to do. Sighing, Prowl shuttered his optics and attempted to go into stasis. He doubted that Ratchet would let him go back to his room even after he'd healed. He was also willing to bet that neither the medic nor Jazz would let him out of their sight for a long while yet. They would make sure he got some form of help, even if it meant strapping him to a berth and forcing him to talk. When stasis finally came, the dark mech easily slipped into nothingness.