I know. Been awhile since I posted anything. Good news is chapter 8 of There's None so Blind is starting to come together and will hopefully be posted this month.
This story, however, came to me weeks ago...it was inspired by "We were here" by SwipeatronSparks. I'm not usually a Prowl/Bluestreak fan but I like how the pairing was written in the story and for some reason it got me thinking, what if it didn't work out between Prowl and Jazz cause Prowl found Praxian mechs more attractive? Kinda how seekers hook up with seekers.
Anyway, in part one, this is the whole affair from Jazz's view point.
"Vorn" about 1 year, "Decacycle" about 1 week, "Cycle" about 1 day, "Orn" about an hour, "Breem" about a minute
Lost and Found
Part one of three
Sitting on his berth, back pressed against the wall, staring blankly down at his hands resting in his lap, he vented yet another deep depressed sigh.
It was his own fault. This is what he gets for eavesdropping. For sticking around far longer than he should have, for putting his nosey self where he didn't belong….for falling in loving with someone he didn't think was unobtainable.
Of course they should have been more discreet. Shouldn't have been in an open hall where anyone could of seen them or walked up on them…even if it was really really late at night when almost every mech was in recharge….and they weren't that far from Prowl's quarters to begin with.
Jazz leaned his head back against the wall. He should have walked away….walked away, walked away, walked away. But no, he had stayed out of curiosity and some concern, wanting to make sure everything was alright and ended up witnessing more than he wanted to see.
He felt divided, a range of emotions still coursed through him. Anger, hurt, jealously, betrayal…..and now somewhere a touch of shame for even feeling this way to begin with. He had no right, really. It was his fault he had chosen to ignore the obvious right in front of his own optics. Chose to look past all the signs.
He'd been sooo sure of himself.
He vented another sigh and slouched against the wall more. He had held out hope of getting back together, of picking up where almost two vorns ago left off. He had hoped the separation would have shown Prowl that they were good together, belonged together. Jazz had been sure that Prowl would come to miss being with him as much as he missed being with Prowl.
Painfully clear now those feelings were one sided. For nearly two vorns he had been so patient, quietly pining for Prowl, so sure that Prowl was silently pinning for him in return in his own way, perhaps not ready to get back into a relationship just yet but soon.
The separation had been smooth, painless.
When Prowl had hesitantly brought up he wasn't sure about the relationship, Jazz was more than willing to give Prowl his space. He'd been confident there was no one who could replace him. Jazz had known even before he had approached Prowl that Prowl didn't move fast in relationships so when he called a halt to theirs, Jazz was ready for it.
He had willingly stepped back because in all honesty he knew he had a tendency to smother and didn't want to run Prowl off completely. He had been so sure Prowl would come back to him on his own.
But he'd been wrong. Very wrong. Because HE came along.
Jazz honestly felt blindsided, never once had he viewed the mech or thought of him as competition. Not once since day one. HE came along about half a vorn after their separation. The Autobots had been called out in urgency by a source that reported the Decepticons had attacked and literally reduced a neutral city to nothing but rubble in a matter of orns.
By the time the group of Autobots reached their destination, just on sight alone, there was little hope for any survivors. Optimus, ever the one to hold onto hope no matter how bleak the situation, refused to leave without conducting as thorough a search as they could.
They spilt up, fanning out, desperately searching for any sign of life no matter how faint the signal. Nothing. The orns dragged on. And as the light waned, concerns of a second attack under less than favorable conditions rose, surely the Decepticons knew the Autobots would be called in and Optimus reluctantly called an end to the seemingly fruitless endeavor, radioing everyone back.
Prowl was the only mech who didn't respond.
Breems ticked by as Jazz and Optimus attempted to reach Prowl on as many different frequencies as they could think of with no success. Each passing astrosecond their feelings of unease grew. It wasn't like Prowl not to respond, he took these situations very seriously.
Fearing for his Second in Commands safety, Optimus gathered a group to start searching for him. They were trying to pin down where they had last seen Prowl when a figure appeared on the horizon.
Prowl.
And then they saw what he was carrying.
A survivor.
The other mech clung to Prowl who had his arm securely around the others waist, supporting him. The poor mech was mangled and clearly unable to sustain his own weight as he limped slowly at Prowl's side, doing his best to stay upright against the SIC. Ragged stressed intakes mixed with a keening whine of pain could be heard as Prowl stopped to give the shaking mech a moment of rest.
Jazz felt relief flood through him like a drug at the sight of Prowl and he was elated Prowl had managed to find a survivor amongst the carnage. He ran over to where Prowl stood getting a good look at some serious dents and cracks that now dotted Prowl's frame, it was only later he would learn Prowl damaged his comm lines while rescuing the mech. But when Jazz reached for the silver grey doorwinged survivor to offer help, the mech flinched away with a frightened, "No!".
Jazz quickly drew back as Prowl shifted away from him.
"Its alright, Jazz, I got him."
There.
That's where it started. Looking back at it very moment, Jazz realized he should have taken a closer look at Prowl's actions. Normally the ever logical Prowl would have convinced the frightened mech in his arms that Jazz was a friend, not someone he should fear, and accepted assistance. But he hadn't. Instead Prowl alone had aided the smaller mech back to base. Waited with him as Ratchet tended to him. Visited the mech often as he recovered.
Jazz hadn't given much thought to any of this at the time, believing Prowl's actions to be simply those of one looking out for a fellow Praxian. As Jazz was undoubtedly sure of the silver gray mechs origins. The build, the doorwings, the chevron, though all slightly different from both Prowl and Smokescreen, all pointed directly to his lineage. Even Smokescreen was known to drop by and visit the little mech in the Med Bay.
It was only when he was released from Ratchet's care did Jazz get a proper introduction.
Bluestreak.
And the young mech was a pure joy. He had this smile and natural happiness to him that spread and enveloped anyone who crossed his path. Jazz was surprised by the sheer innocence he exuded. He had been nothing but happy Bluestreak's ability to talk, smile, laugh, and generally interact had not been stripped from him after the terrors he'd managed to live through. It was after a cycle or two of recharging on his own when the trauma caught up to the young mech, making its hideous impact on a fragile psyche known.
Bluestreak started jerking himself from recharge, shrieking in remembered pain or panic. Would fight against friends who came running to calm him, his processor confusing them, blending their images with those of the tormentors of his nightmares. It was only the sight of a black and white frame, so similar to Bluestreak's own, that would fracture these waking delusions and allow reality to filter through.
Bluestreak would scrabble off the berth to Prowl, embrace him, often shaking in distress and fear, sometimes crying, as he clung desperately to the one mech who seemed to give him the most comfort, the one who saved him, his hero. And never once did Prowl deny him. Never once did Prowl tell him "no" or to stop or to see Smokescreen instead.
No, Prowl would put an arm around Bluestreak's shoulders in comfort and give a slight tilt of his head to the door in silent indication for everyone else to leave, that he would take care of this. Often spending orns with Bluestreak until the mech could get some decent recharge.
Bluestreak had once let it slip how he felt guilty for taking up so much of the Second in Commands time. Jazz knew Prowl didn't mind. One time after the mechs who had entered Bluesteak's room when he came out of recharge screaming had all filed out, leaving Prowl behind, the door cycled shut and Jazz heard Bluestreak through the door babbling one sob filled apology after another until Prowl gently hushed him and soothed him saying "It's alright.". The sheer care and comfort in Prowl's voice had made Jazz smile. And Prowl wouldn't have said that if he hadn't meant it.
Bluestreak's nightly terrors went on for what seemed like endless decacycles. Then just as quickly as they started, they stopped. Many had been thrilled, relieved, happily believing Bluestreak was beginning to heal, that the demons haunting him were dying away. Of course Jazz found out the real reason Bluestreak went quiet many decacycles later.
Late one night, having just returned from a recent mission, Jazz found himself unable to recharge. Thinking to cure his problem with a good cube of high grade he headed for the commons room. The sight that met him as he walked through the doorway brought him to a stand still.
Prowl sat on one of the couches, a stack of data pads next to him, one foot resting on the small table in front of the couch, the other foot on the floor and Bluesteak's head resting in his lap. One of Bluestreak's arms wrapped around Prowl's waist while the other draped across Prowl's legs, the gray mech himself deep in a peaceful recharge.
Prowl looked up from writing on the data pad he held. They stared at each other for a moment. Then Jazz watched as Prowl's lips quirked into a small smile as Prowl adopted an almost shy look.
"You realize my reputation would be ruined were it made known I'm used in such a manner and therefore not completely sparkless."
A big grin broke out on Jazz's face, one he couldn't have stopped if he tried. It was rare Prowl when was in a mood for banter, even more rare for him to be the one to start it. He walked in quietly so he wouldn't disturb Bluestreak.
"This would really make for some wonderful blackmail."
Prowl grinned a little more as he looked up at Jazz, "Now whose sparkless?"
Jazz chucked as he rounded the couch leaning against the back next to Prowl, looking down at the recharging mech in his lap, "So, I take it this is the real reason Blue hadn't been haven' nightmares an' wakin' from recharge lately."
"I think is helps him if someone is near him physically when he recharges. I think, maybe, he feels less alone. Less vulnerable."
"Someone? Or a certain someone? Like you, Prowl."
"Doubtful."
Jazz just shook his head as he grinned. Prowl wouldn't admit to the idea that Bluestreak hugging his personal hero as he recharged was really what kept the nightmares at bay.
"Why are you up, Jazz?"
Jazz simply shrugged, "Restless."
Prowl nodded understandingly and turned his attention back to his data pad. Jazz lingered leaning on the back of the couch, scooting over so he was right behind Prowl. He reached down and gently caressed a finger along the top edge of a doorwing. Prowl remained silent. Encouraged, Jazz leaned forward more and wrapped his arms around Prowl's shoulders, hugging him. Lightly nuzzling his helm against Prowl's as he leaned down to place a kiss on Prowl's neck.
"Jazz."
His name may have been spoken softly but Jazz could hear the warning tone in Prowl's voice. He stopped and hung his head for a moment, sighing mentally before he released Prowl.
"Well, I'm goin' ta grab a cube a high grade an' head back."
"Recharge well, Jazz."
"Don' forget ta do the same ya self, Prowl."
Jazz stopped himself as he almost leaned in and placed a kiss on Prowl's helm. He knew it wouldn't have been welcomed. Instead he gave Prowl's shoulder a gentle squeeze before slipping away to get his high grade and headed out of the room, giving Prowl a smile as he left. Happy when Prowl returned a small smile of his own.
It wasn't too long after that Jazz took notice he wasn't the only common visitor to Prowl's office. It started out with Bluestreak stopping by and exchanging a few words with Prowl. This grew almost unnoticed until just about every time Jazz walked into Prowl's office he was greeted with a cheerful, "Hi, Jazz!" from Bluestreak.
The only concern Jazz had at the time was Bluestreak wearing out his welcome. Jazz knew Prowl was a private mech. He liked quiet, and no offense to little Blue, but Bluestreak was often anything but quiet. Worried the chatty bot might be driving Prowl up the wall, he had approached Prowl offering to draw the young mech away so Prowl could work in peace. Much to Jazz's surprise Prowl had simply shook his head assuring him that Bluestreak wasn't bothering him and that he was able to get his work done just fine.
Since Bluestreak showed improvement as each cycle passed, Ironhide saw fit to give the mech 'purpose'. Optimus, Ratchet, and Jazz completely agreed with much encouragement but it was Prowls gentle push that finally got Bluestreak willing to try and find his place amongst the Autobots.
Unfortunately, there wasn't a single spot Bluestreak could occupy in Special Ops. Doorwinged mechs just simply didn't have the build for any of the jobs and sensory panels, while useful in many areas, left them too vulnerable in an attack and made narrow escapes through tight spaces nearly impossible.
It was Ironhide who saw something in Blue they hadn't. Ironhide who took Bluestreak to the shooting range, while trying to ignore Jazz, Prowl, and Ratchet who followed, and placed a sniper rifle in the young mechs hands. Bluestreak had looked at the weapon he held with a mixture of fear and horror before glancing up to look at Prowl with pleading optics, silently begging to be removed from this situation.
Prowl stepped forward, ready to pull Bluestreak from the shooting range when Ironhide turned to him, "Leave."
Ironhide then looked at Jazz and Ratchet, "All of yah."
Prowl frowned, clearly not happy, but Ironhide walked up to him leaned in close speaking in low tones so Bluestreak couldn't hear, "Yah need to leave."
Jazz could see Prowl's mouth open to protest when Ironhide stopped him, "Ah' know yah want nothin' more than to protect him but lettin' him hide behind yah every time he's scared or upset or facing with some demon of his past isn't doing him any good and yah know it."
The two stared each other down.
"Prowl, let him stand on his own. He'll be ok, Ah' promise."
Prowl looked at Ironhide for several moments, seemingly searching Ironhide's face for something. He must have found whatever it was he was looking for as Jazz watched Prowl nodded his head minutely as he took a step back. Prowl looked over at Bluestreak,
"Listen to Ironhide, Bluestreak. I know you'll do your best."
Then Prowl turned and glancing at Jazz and Ratchet, who fell into step behind him, left the shooting range. Jazz looked backed to see a clearly upset Bluestreak with Ironhide's hand on his shoulder, keeping the young mech where he was, then the door cycled shut.
It was orns later when Jazz went to check up on Bluestreak. Having asked around and no one having seen the little mech in awhile gave rise to concern. Either Bluestreak was done and had retreated to his quarters to be alone (not a good sign) or his was still at the shooting range. And if that was the case it might be time Jazz stepped in and pulled him out.
As Jazz turned down the hall toward the range he saw Bluestreak walking toward him. He'd never seen a mech look such a mixture of two very different emotions. He was smiling, seemingly happy yet there was something undoubtedly sad mixed in with it.
Looking into Blue's optics didn't help either as they only reflected the conflicting emotions as well. Jazz wasn't sure if he should hug the mech and congratulate him or hug and console him.
Bluestreak smiled at him all the same, as if nothing was wrong, and Jazz could see Ironhide standing in the hall outside the shooting range door behind him.
"Hi, Jazz."
"Hey Blue, how'd everythin' go?"
Bluestreak stopped and looked down as though thinking it over, that bitter sweet smile still playing on his face, and after a moment looked at Jazz, "I….I think I did ok."
"He did great." Ironhide walked up to them, clasping the young mech on the shoulder, giving him a smile, "Ah' have no doubt he'll be a regular on the range and when I get done with him, one of the best we'll have."
Bluestreak smiled up at Ironhide, there was gratitude in that look, "Thank you."
Ironhide gave him a nod, "Anytime."
The young mech looked down again and sighed, rubbing a hand up and down his arm, a sign of unease, "I…uh….I-I need to go talk to Prowl. Excuse me."
Jazz watched him go, watched as grey doorwings drooped just before Bluestreak rounded the corner. Frowning, he moved to go after the mech when a red arm wound around his shoulders and hauled him up against one weapons specialist. Jazz looked up at the mech in seriousness, "Hey, Blue gonna be ok?"
Ironhide gave a small nod, "Yeah, he'll be fine." Ironhide grinned and began to lead Jazz off in another direction, "Come on, ah' was jist thinkin' a cube or two a' high grade sounds really good right about now. Join me."
Jazz only laughed and shook his head, allowing Ironhide to drag him off to the commons room.
Almost a vorn later, after much hard work and a lot of time spent under Ironhide's tough training, Bluestreak stood proudly as one of the sharp shooters that gave cover for Prowl and Optimus. Ironhide had made good on his word and turned Bluestreak into one pit of a good shot. One of the best really. Jazz had no idea what motivated Bluestreak to go from scared youngling to skilled sniper but whatever it was, it worked.
And Blue was actually causing a touch of fear to run among some of the Decepticons…they were becoming weary if they saw Optimus or Prowl or even Ironhide in battle because that meant Autobot Commands personal sniper was nearby.
Prowl couldn't have been more proud of the young gunner, who Jazz knew was still known to recharge resting against Prowl from time to time. It was only after this last battle when the floor was pulled out from underneath Jazz.
It had been far too close a call. The Decepticons had concentrated their attack, their target…Prowl. Through sheer force and numbers they broke through the line of sharp shooters taking most of them out before moving to surround Prowl. The fact they were not using weapons against Prowl made their intent to capture all the more evident, making the situation more disturbing and urgent.
Prowl, Bluestreak, and two other sharp shooters were all that barely held off the Decepticons until back up arrived. By the time Jazz and Ironhide's teams got there, the Decepticons had almost surround Prowl. Once back at base, Jazz knew it was going to be some time before Prowl saw the battle field again. Not because Prowl had done anything wrong but because Megatron's attempts to get a hold of Prowl were becoming more vicious. Prowl was safer directing from the Command Center at the base surrounded by guards and Red Alert's security system.
The mechs had of course thrown a small impromptu party as a way of saying "Great Job!" to Bluestreak and the two sharp shooters who had taken many a hit in defending the Autobot Second in Command. All three were patched up and ok and Jazz even got Bluestreak to drink a few cubes of high grade.
The party wound down, most mechs left for recharge. Bluestreak bid the last remaining a good night before leaving. Jazz was left with Blaster and Smokescreen as they finished up a few more rounds of their game. Unable to win anymore hands against Smokescreen, Jazz knew he was cheating at this point but thanks to the high grade he didn't care, he tossed in his hand and bid the two good night.
Smiling to himself, he walked slowly to his quarters. Only stopping when he heard the murmur of hushed voices, both very familiar. Curious, he peeked around the corner to see Prowl leaning against the wall, Bluestreak stood in front of him, head down as he fidgeted with his hands. Jazz could heard Prowl speaking in low smooth tones and Bluestreak nodding but couldn't make out the words.
Jazz watched as Bluestreak continued to look down, chewing on his bottom lip, doorwings down, quivering slightly, all signs of nervousness. Jazz frowned. What could have transpired in such a short time to make Bluestreak go from happy in the commons room to standing in the hall obviously distressed.
Jazz didn't think there was a single mech on base stupid enough to say something to upset Bluestreak. Perhaps nightmares again? If that was the case it was best left to Prowl. Jazz waited, listening closely. If it was something he could help with he'd jump in.
Bluestreak took a hesitant breath, "Prowl….I…."
Bluestreak bit his lip again before looking up at Prowl. He stepped forward, placing both hands on Prowls arms as he reached up and kissed Prowl full on the lips. Jazz felt as shocked as Prowl looked and he immediately felt sorry for the young mech.
Oh, Blue….
He hoped Prowl would be tactful enough to let him down gently.
Only before Bluestreak could pull away Prowl wrapped an arm around Bluestreak's waist, pulling him closer as Prowl dimmed his optics….and…..kissed back.
Jazz shook his head, this wasn't how it was suppose to happen. Prowl was suppose to tell Bluestreak that a relationship between them wasn't possible. The he had feelings for someone else. But that wasn't happening. No, Bluestreak was wrapping his arms around Prowl's neck and Prowl's other hand was now caressing Blue's back in between his doorwings.
And they were still kissing….deeper now, more passionate and intimate. Jazz watched, disbelieving, as Prowl kissed Bluestreak with an enthusiasm he had never kissed Jazz with. Prowl had always been passive with Jazz, letting Jazz touch and kiss him as he wished, his response was usually minimal. Jazz had always chalked it up to Prowl being uncomfortable with intimacy. He didn't seem to be uncomfortable with it now.
Prowl actually moaned into the kiss as he wrapped an arm around Bluestreak's shoulders and pressed the grey mech flush against him. When Prowl finally pulled back from the kiss, he looked down at Bluestreak and smiled. He looked over Bluestreak's helm looking down the hall, perhaps just now remembering where he was.
Prowl looked back down at Bluestreak, who was gazing incredulously at Prowl, as he reached up and took one of Bluestreak's hands in his own. He stepped away from the wall, turning them as he began to gently lead Bluestreak down the hall and in the most entreating voice Jazz had ever heard Prowl use, said, "Come."
Bluestreak nodded silently and followed. Prowl turned, still keeping Bluestreak's hand in his own, and walked toward his quarters. Jazz ducked back as they pasted him before peeking out again, not that either mech was paying much attention to anything around them.
Prowl stopped at his door and keyed the entry code. The door slid open and he stepped through but Bluestreak hesitated at the threshold. Prowl turned back toward him with a questioning look. Bluestreak looked down, "Ar-are you sure?"
Jazz wanted to shout, NO! No, he's not sure! He can't be!, but remained silent.
Prowl reached out and caressed the side of Bluesteak's helm, his hand traveling down to cup the younger mechs chin and tilt his head up, "Absolutely."
He stepped back again into his quarters, motioning with his hand for Bluestreak to follow, his voice dipping to an almost sensual level, "Please…"
And this time Bluestreak followed without hesitation, the door sliding shut behind him.
Realization was like a slap in the face. It had taken Jazz near begging to be let into the sacred realm that was Prowl's personal quarters. But with Bluestreak…Prowl had coaxed…COAXED Bluestreak inside with a lovers touch and a voice that seemed laced with the promises of pleasure.
Jazz leaned his helm against the wall. It wasn't fair. He had denied Prowl nothing. They were good together. They made sense together. Their opposite sides acting like a balance for one another. Prowl kept Jazz grounded and Jazz made sure Prowl didn't get wound tight over details. He helped lighten Prowl's seriousness while Prowl helped Jazz reign in his impulsive side. He could make Prowl laugh and Prowl made sure Jazz took the right things seriously.
They were good together…
Jazz pushed away from the wall and walked quickly past Prowl's door to his own quarters. Once inside with the door locked securely behind him, Jazz all but threw himself on his berth. It hurt. Prowl really had not wanted him the way he had wanted Prowl. He had gone into this with the mind set of a long lasting relationship. Prowl, on the other hand, had simply given the idea a try.
He could not believe he had refused to see so much of what was now painfully obvious. Sitting up he leaned against the wall for support. He sat there, trying to quell the ache in his throat and chest, trying to work it all out in his head…where had he gone wrong. Had he been too annoying? Too forceful? Too loud? Too touchy? Too needy? What?
Orns later and here he was. No closer to working it out than when he'd started. He still hurt but at least the ache in his throat and chest had eased. He was restless but dared not leave his quarters. He'd have to walk by Prowl's door to go anywhere and he didn't want to accidentally hear anything. He'd heard and seen enough tonight.
No matter the out come tomorrow he'd talk to Prowl. He had questions that demanded answering, things he had to know. With his resolve firmly in place, he settled back and off lined his optics, with little to look forward to other than a miserable night full of fitful recharge.
*****authors notes*****
I'm sorry! This is such a downer chapter! The next two will be better since it deals with the affair from both Bluestreak's and Prowl's point of view and is a lot more positive!
Reading and reviewing is always welcomed, it encourages me!