Jazz peaked into the small office. A blue and white praxian sat at a desk in the corner slowly pecking away at keys on his keyboard using his two pointer digits. Jazz knocked on the doorway, a frown on his features. "Smokey, can ah talk to ya?"

Smokescreen glanced over to the doorway, surprise on his face. "Jazz?" His helm fell to the side. "This is surprising."

"What? Ah'm not allowed to come to the…"

"You don't even know the name of this section."

"No." Jazz smiled. "Ah guess I don't.

"Psychiatrics."

"Why ya gotta make it sound like some processor tamperin' place?"

"Because we find it funny. What do you need, Jazz."

"Ah… Ah just wanted ta talk to ya. I was worried 'bout a friend."

"A friend?"

"Ah know bots use that all the time but ah really got a friend who ah'm worried about." Jazz sight as he sat down. "Ah didn't know who ta talk to, so ah came ta you."

Smokescreen nodded. "Alright. Let me hear about this 'friend'."

Jazz sighed. "Ah think he's depressed."

"Jazz, everybody gets depressed. Most of the time it's jus-"

"A phase! Ah've heard that so much from the mech that Ah think he's driving meh insane!"

"So why don't you listen to him?" Smokescreen leaned back in his chair. "Most of the time bots around here get into jams, especially during war. Almost all the bots here have killed a mech before, or pit, even watch a close friend die."

"Ah know! Ah know that , but ah think… I think he's…"

"He's what?"

"It's hard ta say. I think he's… Ya know."

"Suicidal?"

"Yeah." Jazz groaned. "Ah'm really close ta him, and I just. I don't want anything ta happen to him. Ah've told him that, but ah don't think it's workin'."

"Jazz, if this bots life is on the line, then he needs help. He doesn't need you coming here. He needs to come here himself."

"Ah've told him that! But he just says it's a phase, and he'll get over it!"

"Jazz," Smokescreen leaned forward, "How long has this been going on?"

"Ah don't know. Five groons."

"That's a long time. Who is it?"

Jazz shook his helm and stood up. "Ah can't tell ya that."

"Jazz, you're a superior officer. You have a responsibility to the mech to tell me who it is so I, or one of my collegues can help them."

Jazz stared at Smokescreen for a moment before looking away. "Ah. Ah'm not their officer. Ah'm their friend."

"You have their responsibility as a friend."

Jazz bit his lip, before turning away from Smokescreen. "Ah don't know, Smokey."

Smokescreen sighed. "Fine. Just answer this one question. Could you live with yourself if this mech kills himself and you didn't do anything to help him?"

Jazz's posture fell, his back still towards Smokescreen. "Ah. Can ya promise me that you'll help him?"

"Yes."

Jazz turned back to Smokescreen. "Prowl." His mouth was in a deep frown. "Ah think Prowl wants to die."

Prowl silently worked in his office. He filled data pad after data pad out, and in the end he barely made a dent in the huge stack. It was late. That was for sure. If he went to recharge now, he'd only get five joors before he'd have to be right back in his chair again. A sigh filled his office as he stood up. It would be illogical to work without any recharge. His efficiency would decrease.

Prowl's gaze turned back to the window. Iacon seemed peaceful. Bots were walking down the street even when it was so late. Probably returning home from a party, or perhaps just headed to another one. Whatever the case was. They all seemed to happy, even when at the end of it all, they'd all die anyways.

Prowl shook his helm. He had hoped his new way of thinking would have ended, but in the few groons he'd been in this mindset, he'd felt it had only gotten worse. Life was such a hopeless thing. You are brought into the world, and ultimately, you'll leave it. What was the point of even living anymore.

Prowl knew the signs. He saw them even before Jazz brought them up to him. He knew Jazz meant well when he told him that if anything happened to him that it'd crush him. He knew Jazz meant well when he went out of his way to try and cheer Prowl up. Prowl knew Jazz meant well when he pretended he got kicked out of his apartment to move in with Prowl. Prowl would have felt flattered if he thought Jazz's efforts weren't in vain, but at this point, Prowl didn't know if he'd ever be able to get back to the point he was at before all of the dark clouds appeared in his processor.

Jazz paced back and forth in his and Prowl's unit. It was late and Prowl hadn't made it back yet. Prowl didn't comm. him and say he'd be late. He usually did. Jazz took a deep intake and forced himself to sit down. What if Prowl had hurt himself. What if Prowl was already offline? Jazz quickly stood up and rushed to the door, He hit the open button, and started to rush out the door.

Prowl stood on the other side of the door, optics wide. "Jazz, what are you doing?""

"Ah… Ah was worried. You didn't tell meh that you were working late!"

Prowl nodded stepping inside the unit. "I didn't know myself. I had to finish a few more data pads."

"Are ya, okay? Ya still sa-"

"Jazz, it's a phase. I'll get over it."

"Ya ai-"

"Jazz, please. I don't wish to talk about it. I just want to go to recharge, and maybe if I'm lucky I won't wake up." Prowl frowned as soon as the words left his vocal processor. The last part was not supposed to come out. The unit fell into a deep silence. Prowl didn't want to turn around and look at Jazz's face. He didn't want to see the look that was surely on his friends face. He didn't want to see that face that said all too clearly how much his friend pitied him. He didn't want the pity. He didn't even want to know how much his friend didn't understand what was going on with him. He only wanted to Jazz to drop the subject, and now that would never happen.

Prowl slowly turned back to the door.

"Where are ya going?"

"back to the office. I have things to finish."

"Ya not going ta get any recharge?"

Prowl shook his helm as the door opened and he walked out of the unit.

Jazz took a deep breath as his friend left. He sat down and offlined his optics. He just didn't understand what was wrong.

"Prowl, do you ever feel like life isn't worth it?"

Prowl frowned as he sat in the small office he had only been in once before. Rung sat a desk staring at Prowl. When ample enough time went by Rung repeated himself. "Prowl, Do you ever feel that life isn't worth living?"

"Rung, I have things that need to be finished. You are setting me back joors."

"Why are you avoiding the question?"

"I am not avoiding the question."

"Than answer it please."

Prowl sighed. "Yes. Life is pointless. We live and we struggle and in the end the prize is death. That is what everybody is working towards. That is their goal."

"Prowl, what's your view of yourself?"

"I am a mech."

"That's not what I meant." Rung readjusted himself.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You understand."

Prowl sighed. "I am small."

"Small?" Rung frowned. "How so?"

"I am small. Compared to the world, I am simply a speck, barely able to be seen. Compared to the galaxy I am just an atom. And compared to the universe I am just a small piece of that atom. An electron maybe."

"You think you don't matter?"

"In the whole grand scheme of things. I know I don't matter. I am simply stick up the aft Prowl. If I were to disappear the mechs around here would probably throw a party. They'd be happier."

"Have you ever thought about offlining yourself?"

Prowl stared at Rung with a calculating glance. "No. I don't want to kill myself."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"I…" Prowl sighed. "I do not want to necessarily live anymore. I don't want to kill myself. I do not want to live anymore. I don't want to exist."

Rung frowned. "Prowl, have you ever thought about somebody else killing you?"

"Every orn." Prowl stood up. "I am done."

"Prowl, You cannot just leave. We're not done."

"Then please finish." Prowl sat back down.

"How have you imagined yourself dying?"

"It is war. How do you imagine yourself dying? Not pleasantly."

"One last question, Prowl."

"Yes?"

"Do you feel bad for any of these thoughts?"

"Do I feel remorse?" Prowl snorted. "No."

Rung nodded. "You may go, Prowl."

Prowl stood up once again, and nodded. "Who told you to talk to me?"

"Confidential, Prowl."

Prowl nodded. "Very well."

Optimus shook his helm. "Rung, I do not know what you want me to do about this."

"I understand that Prowl is an important part of your commanding staff, but he's not fit at the moment."

"What part of him is not fit?"

"Patient Confidentiality."

Optimus sighed. "Rung, this is my second in command, military strategist, and a lot of other titles as well that you'd have to ask him to name. I cannot just discharge him, even temporarily."

"Optimus, I cannot tell you how, but this will be in the best interest of everyone if-" Rung was cut off by a knock.

"Come in." Optimus yelled.

The door opened and Prowl walked in. "I have the repor…" Prowl sighed. "Did I interrupt?"

"We were just speaking about you." Optimus sat down at his desk. The office door closed and Prowl frowned. "Rung wishes for me temporarily discharge you from your duties."

Prowl turned to Rung. "Why?"

"You are not fit at the moment, Prowl."

"Is this about the meeting we had yesterday?"

"Yes."

"I can assure you, Rung that what we spoke about has nothing to do with my work. I do not plan to endanger myself or anybody else. What I am going through is a phase."

Optimus nodded. "There. This is settled then. Prowl will remain just where he is. As a compromise, I want Prowl to meet with you, Rung, once a decaorn, or more as you see fit. Is that good for now?"

Rung nodded. "For now."

Prowl nodded. "That is fine. For now."

Jazz waited patiently for Prowl to walk in the door. When he finally did, Jazz quickly ran to meet him at the door. "Hey, Prowler, how was-"

"Did you speak to Rung about my recent phase?"

"Ah d-"

"Do not lie to me."

"Ah didn't talk ta Rung about it. Ah talked to Smokescreen."

Prowl's frown only deepened. "Why?"

"Because ya needed help!"

"Jazz, did I ask for help?"

"No." Jazz's arms fell limply to his side.

"Then please do not help me. I almost got suspended from duty."

"Maybe ya need to be!"

"That is the last thing I need!" Prowl yelled. "That is he one thing holding me down! That is the one thing keeping me sane! Do not decide what I need and don't need, Jazz! Do not! If I wanted help, I would have gone and asked for it myself."

Jazz growled. "So you're mad?"

"Yes."

"You're mad at me for caring?" Jazz shook his helm. "You're mad at me for wanted my friend to be around forever? You're mad because ah want ya to be okay?"

"I do not want to be okay, Jazz. I do not want to be here. The only thing I want to do, is to not be."

"Doesn't it hurt ya to say that?"

"No, because it is the truth. I do not want to live in this world anymore. I do so because I have to. I do so because I do not have the ball bearings to take myself out of it."

Jazz shook his helm. "That' s awful! What you're saying is awful! Ya know what? If ya wanna die, then die!" Jazz pushed passed Prowl and ran out of the unit. He made his way out onto the Iaconian streets and walked.

Blaster sighed when he spotted the white from hunched over the bar's counter. He walked up to the mech and sat next him. "Hey."

"Blaster, Ah don't get it. How could a person just want to off themselves?"

Blaster frowned. "When ya called me out for a drink, I didn't think it take such a serious turn."

"Ah'm not kidding, Blaster!"

Blaster shrugged. "I don't know, Mech. Life takes bots and it just kinda crushes their hope, ya know? Some of them make it out, and others just kinda struggle to make it through the orn."Blaster sighed. "What even brought this on?"

"Ah'm dealing with stuff?"

"You aren't going to go home and kill yourself are ya?"

"Nah, it's not me."

Blaster nodded. "Okay."

Jazz took a sip of his high grade. "Ah just want to help the mech, he doesn't want it."

Blaster shrugged. "Some mechs just don't want to be helped."

Jazz stood outside Prowl's unit, his servo ready to knock but his processor yelling not to. He had been avoiding Prowl for almost two groons. Prowl didn't want anything to do with him, and that was fine. He had Mirage keep an optic on the mech and got a few updates. Prowl had been going to meet with Rung twice a decaorn. Jazz had figured that he had been avoiding the unavoidable reunion for a while. He missed Prowl.

Finally he forced his fist down onto the door. He waited for a moment before the door opened. Prowl stared at Jazz with slightly surprised optics. "Jazz."

"Heya Prowler."

Prowl stepped aside. "Come in."

Jazz slowly walked inside. Nothing had changed. The apartment still looked exactly the same. Jazz sat on the couch in the living room, and smiled at Prowl. "How are ya?"

Prowl sat down on the chair across from the couch. "I am well."

Jazz nodded. "Ah'm sorry about what a-"

"There is nothing to apologize for, Jazz. I know that I needed help, and I know that I was too stubborn to get it. I was depressed, and I believe you did the correct thing."

Jazz nodded. "So, you're feelin' better?"

"Yes. Rung has worked wonders."

Jazz smiled. "Good!"

"Jazz, I wish to apologize to you. The way I acted… before was uncalled for. I am sorry that I made you worry."

"Nah, mech. I'd always be happy to worry for ya." Jazz flashed Prowl a smile. "Ya're mah best friend!"

A/N: I felt this author's note needed to go at the end of this. I've had this written for a while, and I wasn't too sure if I wanted to upload it or not. (A few of you know why, and I prefer if you didn't say anything about it =D) I was kinda rummaging through folders saw this, and said to myself. "It's time."