Basically this is going to be the twins birth story and I want the war to take a few years to really kick off, in the mean time the twins get kidnaped/lost and end up in the pits. Jazz and Prowl loose the twins before any really distinctive features show up. So little helm nubs will be what they have. Uhhhhh where was i? Oh! anyway once the twins are born soon they get stolen for the 'Cons to use as leverage but the kidnapper end up loosing them and they end up in the pits for a few years then when the pits are destroyed due to the war the end up joining the bots. Later- MUCH LATER- this will become an elite trine/twins story maybe.

Chapter One:

Jazz laid on their berth. Just laid there. Prowl continuing to list off probabilities for the war effort that was just beginning, and complained about how no one listened. For once Jazz wasn't paying any attention. Prowl didn't notice; he was far too far into his speech to notice Jazz now. He had noticed that Jazz had something to say, but he'd been far too irritated by everything to let his mate talk. And now Jazz was stuck in his silent thoughts. The most prominent thought was 'Why? Why now?'

Prowl finally paused in his rant when Jazz sat up, the Dancers helm falling to his servo's. Making a small worried face- because since when had Jazz ever acted this way?- he finally asked, "Jazz? What's wrong?" Prowl had not bothered to move or add much emotion to his tone, though over their bond a strand of worry reached out.

"Prowler, ya know ah love ya' right?" Oh, this was a bad way to start any conversation. Last time Jazz started with this, he'd told Prowl he was going back to work at the club. Going back to being a dancer.

"Sometimes I wonder," Prowl said dryly. Not really meaning it the way it came out but through their bond he let his mate know it was meant not to be taken literally. "What do you want to do this time, Jazz? Adopt a stray petrohound? Take in a liter of cyberkittens?"

"Prowl," Jazz said in an unamused tone. Even with his optics narrowing and darkening he blocked the bond for a moment. Prowl winced and gave a short nod, he'd take this like he did most everything else. Not a single joke. "Ah'm sparked."

It took Prowl a few clicks, then a few more as he felt around their bond for any hint of his small mate to be joking, to fully comprehend this new situation. "How?" Stupid question. Jazz's slight smirk just attested to that.

He knew how sparking happened! Don't give him that look. You've not sparked before, no matter the amount of times we've tried. So how?

"Dun' know. Tha medic even said so." Jazz supplied, decided to not joke around, no matter how silly questions or words ended up seeming. "But 'e's sure that ah am. What are we gonna do if tha war don' end?"

"Wars end, Jazz. They don't carry on forever."

.~:*:~.

Jazz kept silent even though he wanted to snarl. He was pacing as he did every vorn when this cycle came around. Prowl became testier, his nerves on a- as the humans said- shorter leash. They stayed away from each other this day, not talking, not communicating at all. Neither wanted to hurt the other so it was decided long ago avoidance was the best solution.

Few knew why, few knew the reasons. Optimus and Ratchet were the only ones. Their leader and the diagnosing medic.

Sideswipe had made it his goal to pester the two. To try and get them in the same room or one of them slagged enough to have a good fight. Sideswipe would always lose, but it was fun. Well the brig then the duty he was forced into after wasn't. But bored, younger twin, Sideswipe was more than happy to make his attempts of amusement and pay later.

Jazz was in a particularly foul mood this time. Wanting none of Sideswipes slag he stormed passed Ratchet's 'Lair'- oh so lovingly dubbed that by the red hellion that was stalking him currently- and let the medic come out to yell only to catch Sideswipe and save the enraged Saboteur from dealing with the youngling. Sideswipe was not as young as Bumblebee but he was still among some of the youngest.

"Sideswipe," Ratchet grumbled. Grabbing the far too enthused front liners arm before he could trail after Jazz any longer. "We need to talk." He didn't bother to ping the yellow twin, knowing the bond the two shared would have alerted Sunstreaker to his twins whereabouts and maybe if Sideswipe was vocal enough- primus save him if the red wiggling mech ever shut up, for the world would be ending at that point- have the more matured, yet angrier, twin coming here.

"The frag he do this time?" Sunstreaker asked as he entered the medbay. Not bothering with 'Hello's' or asking how the medic was doing. Optis darkening and narrowing on his twin in accusation.

"Slagging Jazz off. Again." Most times there would be the barest hint of amusement in his tone. Yet not today. Not this time. All he sounded was fragged off.

Sunstreaker made a small sound. =That? Again?= Sunstreaker looked at his twin. No vocalization yet Sideswipe grumbled. He nodded. The bond between the two was great enough that they had no need to speak aloud, they could share everything and it take no more than an instant if they so wished. "Why is it any different than the other times?" Sunstreaker finally asked. Immediately Sideswipe perked. It had been this way for vorns upon vorns, since he could first remember.

Ratchet watched the twins. Watched and waited, contemplating what to tell them. Then deciding that the truth, or as close to it, would be the best. "You two were far too young to have joined the war or even know about the effort. But back near the beginning Prowl sparked Jazz."

Looks flashed across the twins' face plates. Shock, confusion, then something that Ratchet supposed meant they were conversing in their own way. Their faces darkened and they looked away. Sideswipe finally spoke up, "Who were they?"

"Designations: Sunbeam and Supernova. Maturity four fifths of a lunar cycle." The twins looked up sharply. They'd never known. Had they- well with their own past they would never have either tormented Jazz as they had or been as crude to Prowl when on duty or within the brig.

"Don't worry Ratch, neither of us will bug Jazz again."

They'll leave Jazz alone, but that doesn't mean Prowl will. After having managed to get away from Sideswipe he'd not checked the bond. Not checked where he needed to avoid. Last he'd known Prowl was stalking around his office. Unfortunately that was before Sideswipe began stalking him.

Entering their quarters, he froze. Visor turning one of the brightest it's ever been. "Prowl," he pithily greeted. Not even bothering with his small term of endearment.

"Jazz," a coldness normally only reserved for Sideswipe when he does something that goes too far. Passed the point of just fun and close to dangerous.

They stood in silence. Prowl facing the wall, Jazz facing Prowl. When the SIC turned around his hard optics softened. "Jazz," He said in a tone so soft no one would really believe it'd come from him. Walking forward he wiped a stray coolant tear away. "I'm sorry."

"They should be here, Prowl. I shouldn't have let them get taken." Jazz pulled back. More tears flowed from the TIC.

Oh…. oh. "It's not your fault Jazz, you were a dancer. You didn't even know how to fight. I'm lucky to have glitched. Lucky that upon onlining Ratchet insisted upon walking me back to our flat and then inside. I would have lost you too if not for him." Pulling his sullen mate closer he rubbed Jazz's back.

"But our sparklings, Prowl… They took them, they killed them." Jazz held tight. Having been the carrier and so fragging attached to them, he always got more emotional around this time. Not to mention he'd been watching them when they were stolen.

As much as Prowl wanted to tell him it'd be alright. That the twins could still be alive, could somehow have survived vorns of war and probably torture at the 'Cons' servo's. But after so long, and with the destruction of their home planet- even he couldn't find a probability of them having survived. He'd given in and checked once, the number was so small it couldn't even be named.

Primus forbid they had survived, the pain and torture, they would likely be 'Cons. Likely fighting for the opposite faction. Maybe even dead by the SIC and TIC's own servo's. There was so much that could have happened, could have gone wrong. He had long since refused to tell his smaller mate the chances of anything else. No more mentions of them possibly surviving, let alone being a 'Con.

A knock at the door caused Jazz to straighten up and hide his feelings once again. Going and opening the door Jazz vented heavily. "Sideswipe-" He growled and Prowl stiffened.

"I'm," he struggled to say the words, but then a yellow servo slapped his helm and he got out, "sorry." Nothing else escaped either twins as they walked away. No more apologies, no more instigators. Nothing. Closing the door Jazz slid down slowly. On the verge of some type of panic attack.

"Jazz, Jazz," Prowl said quickly as he ran over to his mate. Jazz held onto him, showing a side Prowl had been the only one to ever witness.

"Our twins, they- they could have grown up. Could have one day been like those twins. But they were stolen from me, from us." Prowl lifted Jazz up, and together on the berth they laid. Resting without recharge, loving without words. Everything would be alright. It always was.