Jazz cradled Prowl gently, ever mindful of his bondmate's shredded doorwings. Prowl gurgled in agony as Jazz shifted.
"Hush, Prowler. Yu'll be okay." He soothed. Prowl stared up at him with slowly dimming optics. "Ja-zzz!" He whimpered brokenly."Hurts."
"Ah know Sweetspark, Ah know. Jus' hold on. Ratch's comin'." Jazz desperately tried to keep optic fluid at bay. Prowl's beautiful blue optics, the ones Jazz loved to watch brighten with happiness or excitement, dimmed further. Jazz wailed and held the tactician tighter, despite the wounded bot's pained hiss. They sat there Prowl's head in Jazz's arms, surrounded by lazerfire and warcries but none of it mattered. All that matter was the dying SIC and brokensparked TIC, lost in a world by themselves. Prowl lay there, while Jazz cried, and it didn't matter they were sitting ducks inthe middle of a war zone. It just didn't matter.