Peace of Heaven

There weren't many boys in the world like him, Sam thought to himself one night as he lay sprawled in his bed, 'cause really, how many other guys his age had a car that could change itself into a giant, sentient, alien robot? Make that two cars, he corrected, remembering the white Solstice that now shared space with the yellow Camaro.

His parents had been surprisingly okay with it.

Maybe it had something to do with Jazz being a small, stylish sportscar that was unlikely to wreak as much destruction around the house as the bigger Autobots. Maybe it was the offer Jazz made to his mom to drive her out to town now and then when she needed to run errands or attend those community meetings.

Or maybe it was the fact that Jazz had come back from the dead and was in need of a stable place to stay during his slow but steady recovery. Kinda hard to say no to a request like that, especially when Bumblebee was the one making the request.

Sam shifted and started to drift off, lulled by the familiar night sounds coming from outside his window. The light clinking of metal and soft whirring of gears told him that the two Autobots were sleeping under his window again tonight. He didn't mind. In a way, it was comforting to know they were there.

It was a common occurrence on clear summer nights like this. They liked to stretch out on the soft grass in the back yard and look up at the stars. Sometimes Sam would join them at his window, and they'd talk till they all fell asleep. Other times the two would just talk to each other in a mix of English, Cybertronian or a series of clicks and beeps.

This night however, they were quiet. Bumblebee lay stretched on his front, head pillowed on his arms, optics flickering blue now and then, indicating he was asleep. Jazz, meanwhile, retracted his visor, twisted back around and lay down on his back. The boy had finally fallen asleep, too. He, on the other hand, was a little restless.

Sleeping sometimes exhausted him more than any activity he did in his waking hours. Dreams and memories of what it had been like in Heaven – to use the human term – liked to ambush him and plague him to the point where sometimes he selfishly wished there was a way he could get himself killed again so he could return there.

Unconsciously, the claws on the end of his fingers dug light furrows into the ground. He hadn't asked to come back to life. There was a peace he'd had in Heaven that was lost the moment his spark had jolted him back to consciousness, and he realized that he might not ever have that peace again.

Turning his head, he glanced over at Bumblebee. The yellow mech's doorwings twitched now and then as he slept on, and it brought a ghost of a smile to Jazz's lips.

At least one of them was at peace.

He knew he owed a lot to his companion. Had it not been for Bumblebee's love and care Jazz knew he would have lost his mind. Even now he knew that the Camaro worried for him, worried that resurrection was proving too difficult for the usually adaptable Solstice to handle. In a way it was.

The physical pain was subsiding, true enough, but there was still the mental and emotional pain caused by the memories. Jazz masked it as much as he could, and it fooled the others, but Bumblebee knew. Bumblebee always knew.

The flicker in the yellow mech's optics strengthened to a soft glow and Bumblebee raised his head to cast Jazz a curious look. Jazz met his optics for a moment, then turned his head away. Bumblebee reached over and placed a light hand on his forearm, before gently tracing the '4' on Jazz's chest under which his spark lay.

"Does it hurt again?" he asked softly.

Jazz shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

"You're a terrible liar, Jazz."

"It was just a memory."

"Of Heaven?"

Jazz sighed and nodded, still not meeting Bumblebee's optics.

"Then it hurts. It always does." The Camaro moved closer and gently embraced the Solstice, wrapping his arms around the white mech. "How do I make it stop hurting you?"

Jazz looked at him then. "I don't know."

Bumblebee ran his hand along the smooth metal of Jazz's armor, trying to soothe him. Jazz shivered slightly, his sensor net springing to life at Bumblebee's touches and craving for more. He squirmed a little, trying to encourage the other mech to keep stroking him, while he in turn tried to reciprocate the affectionate gestures by using a simple magnetic field to touch the other in a light, but sensuous manner. Bumblebee's soft click of satisfaction told him he'd done something right.

For a while, there were no sounds but the hum of internal mechanics, as they focused on physical pleasure. Then Bumblebee paused.

"Am I losing you again?" he asked.

"Bumblebee." Jazz looked at him, startled. "What makes you say that?"

"I can't fight Heaven and win."

Jazz blinked, not having anything to say to that. what could he possibly tell him that wouldn't sound shallow or cheap? There was a small part of him that realized this whole situation was also taking its toll on Bumblebee's mental health, but he still couldn't snap himself out of it.

"I'm sorry," Bumblebee said quietly. "I didn't-."

"Please don't give up on me," Jazz said quickly, a touch of panic creeping into his voice. "I'm trying to live but… I've seen what's on the other side, I've experienced it, and it's hard to break away from that. There was peace there, Bumblebee, unimaginable peace." He pulled away and sat up. "If only I could show you…."

Bumblebee propped himself up on one elbow. "I can't give you that peace you so long for." His optics blinked sadly. "But I don't want to give you up either."

Guilt cast its cloak over Jazz's shoulders and he hunched over his knees. He knew he was being selfish. It wasn't right, what he was doing to his dearest companion, and he wouldn't be doing it if not for that craving.

"It's tearing me apart, Bee," he said.

"I'm not going to let you try and take your own life again, Jazz." Bumblebee sat up, a frown creasing his usually gentle features. "And this time I'll report it."

Jazz nodded. "I know."

"I can't give you the peace you had in Heaven, but look around you. Isn't there anything here worth living for?" Bumblebee touched his shoulder. "I wont give up on you, but you need to stop giving up on life."

The sound of Sam coughing in his sleep caused both mechs to pause and look back towards the open window, and also gave Jazz a chance to let Bumblebee's words sink in. Unconsciously, he touched his torso, grimacing slightly as he remembered the pain. He listened to Sam shift on his bed and recalled the boy's family motto – no sacrifice, no victory.

Jazz wondered, was this his reward for his sacrifice at Mission City? A second chance at life. Not everyone got that chance. He felt Bumblebee's arms wrap around him and heard the yellow mech let out a faint sigh. Guilt stabbed him when he realized again how much he'd put the mech through since coming back to life. Instinctively, before he realized he'd done it, he sent a gentle sonic pulse of affection to the yellow Autobot and wrapped his own arms around him. Bumblebee made a happy little noise in his vocalizer and nuzzled against his neck.

"I'll live," Jazz heard himself say. "For you."

"I suppose that'll have to do for now," Bumblebee replied, smiling.

Jazz squeezed his shoulders with a light chuckle. "So demanding. Is that any way to treat a poor recovering 'bot?"

Bumblebee gently touched Jazz's sensor net again, causing the white mech to shudder. "Not exactly, but I don't hear you complaining."

Jazz touched Bumblebee's cheek with the tip of one clawed finger, sending the softest magnetic pulse into him and causing the mech's engine to purr in contentment.

"Any louder and you'll wake Sam," Jazz said.

Bumblebee only laughed and lay back down again, pulling Jazz with him. "Go to sleep," he said. "You're a recovering 'bot."

Jazz let out a mock sigh as they settled back down together to try and get some rest. As he did so, Jazz looked up at the clear sky and saw the stars twinkling back at him. a light breeze wafted through the back yard, and apart from the noise he and Bumblebee were making, and Sam's breathing from the room above them, the night was, he suddenly realized, peaceful.

No, it would never be the peace he had felt in Heaven, but it was still peace, and it was attainable. Earth, and life, in a way had its own special kind of peace – the kind that came from being around the people he loved and cared for and who loved and cared for him in return. The kind that came from mechs like Bumblebee, his closest and dearest of companions.

He blinked then and found Bumblebee looking back at him.

"Does it still hurt?" the Camaro asked.

"A little," the Solstice replied. "But I think it's starting to get better."

"That's good."

"Yeah, yeah it is."

… Upstairs in his room, Sam woke up with a slight jerk and sat up. He could have sworn he heard voices and engines revving. Carefully he got up and padded over to his window to see if the Autobots were awake. He found them sound asleep and nestled against each other, not even stirring when a squirrel skittered over their legs. He thought nothing of their strange positions, figuring that maybe they tended to move in their sleep, too.

"Kinda peaceful tonight," he said to himself, settling down on the window seat.

He lay down there, by the open window, and listened to the sounds of the two Autobots in recharge till he, too, fell asleep again.

END.