The demon stalked through the house, incredibly bored. The fool who had summoned him was busy scurrying around upstairs; he could hear them, but he couldn't follow. Lines of salt had been drawn, locking him into the room, stopping him from leaving it. He couldn't leave until a contract had been formed.
"You are testing my patience!" The demon snapped, and he then heard the faint sound of someone crying.
A sparkling.
No, oh no. He knew what they were going to do.
'Here's my first born, give me riches'
'Here's my first born, give me this give me that'
It was mundane, and quite frankly he hated it. He'd have to bring the child back with him and watch as it was turned into a monster.
Instead, he was surprised.
"He is sick. Please, please help him." The mech said as they came back in, stepping over the salt.
In their arms they held a sparkling, smaller than they should have been, with optics that looked fragmented. Their breathing was shallow and ragged, face flushed and hands weakly gripping the mech holding them.
"What is wrong with him?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"I... I don't know. He's been like this ever since he was born." They explained, tears welling up in their optics.
"Very well." He replied, a plush doll that bore a striking resemblance to him materialising in his hand. He gave it to the sparkling, and they immediately latched onto it. "This will protect them until they are of age. After that, I will come to reclaim what is mine."
"Thank you, thank you." The mech said, bowing and clutching the sparkling to their chest.
Jazz sat in front of the television set, holding the plush close to him as he watched the news. His Carrier was in recharge next to him, exhausted from the days work.
He absently fiddled with the doorwings on the back of the plush, optics glued to the screen.
In just a groon, he would be joining the army. Then he too would be on that screen.
It was a tantalising thought.
Subspacing the doll, Jazz stood up and gently woke up his Carrier.
The moment Jazz saw Prowl, he froze.
Jazz wasn't at the front, so it wasn't obvious that he had locked up, but the mech standing next to him certainly noticed.
But everything else seemed to freeze with him when he realised that Prowl looked exactly like the plush doll currently in his subspace.
It wasn't something Jazz liked to carry around with him, but if he strayed too far then he found himself on his knees, in pain and unable to breathe or see.
He hated it.
Something was nagging Jazz. There was something he had to remember, something important...
A loud bang drew Jazz out of his thoughts, and he realised that they had been dismissed. Following the map he had downloaded, Jazz found his quarters soon enough. Nobody else was in them, so he assumed that they hadn't gotten here yet, and he begun to unpack his things.
The plush stayed firmly in his subspace.
He was frustrated at himself for forgetting something. It was right there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't remember! It had been so long since he had been told and he never thought that the demon would do anything - he hadn't seen them his entire life! Surely they would have appeared by now and at least said what it was they were taking in return.
Seeing Prowl had unsettled him, however. Were they the demon? They looked just like his plush - it was plausible... But that just raised questions like 'how the frag did he manage to become second in command of the Autobots'.
Prowl himself was shocked.
He hadn't expected to see Jazz there. Jazz was meant to be ill, unsuitable for service, yet there he was with no doll in sight.
Was this not the right Jazz?
But no - he could feel it. That was the right Jazz.
His fists clenched as he felt a pang of longing. It was just two groon - two groon he had to wait, and then he could get the doll back and become whole again. He could do it, he'd survived vorns without it.
A glance in the mirror suggested that it may have been harder than he thought. Rubbing at his optics and forcing himself to settle, he returned back to his disguised appearance.
It was just two groons. It'd be pathetic if he couldn't do it.
He couldn't do it.
Jazz seemed to always be there, there was no escaping him. The special operations officer sung his praise, and so Jazz seemed to forever be drafted into missions. As he was being included, he had to be in the meetings.
And then after them, he would always ask Prowl if he wanted to go and get a cube together. Social etiquette demanded that he accepted, and so he was subject to being surrounded by lunatics in the rec room while he tried to down his cube as quickly as possible so that he could escape.
But as he was leaving, Jazz would give him a wounded look and he had to sit back down again. He was second in command for christs sake, he should be working or socialising with the other officers! But no, no he was sitting with the new recruits and wondering just where he had gone wrong.
Optimus found it most amusing, and he didn't hide his laughter as he looked at the very disgruntled Prowl.
"You can just go, you know." He said through his mirth.
"It appears that my charge has perfected the puppy eyes look." Prowl grumpily replied.
"Ah, so this is the right Jazz." The Prime replied, leaning forwards. "How do you suppose we handle this? It will be noticed if he suddenly gets very, very ill, or dies."
"I am not sure. It's hard to not take my doll back now, the way it's being dangled in front of me." Prowl clenched down hard on the chair, denting it.
"Prowl, not the chair."
"Sorry, Prime."
"I am sure there are other things you can do in order to help him."
"He needs a piece of me to be with him at all times." Prowl replied, chin in hand.
"So, a piece of your plating?" The Prime replied. It couldn't be that easy, could it?
"No, it's more complicated than that. A piece of my spark. The doll contains part of it already, but in less than two groons time I'll need it back."
"There are ways for cybertronians to swap pieces of their sparks." Optimus carefully said. It was thin ice to be treading on as heavily as he was, but if it would allow Prowl to continue working at the base, and keep him under the radar of hunters...
Prowl sat up straight and to attention.
"Have you ever heard of a spark bond?"
Prowl slumped again. "Yes, yes I have. Forgive me if I am reluctant to bond with someone I do not know, and with someone unwilling."
"You should get to know him then. Failing that, prepare to have to spend the rest of Jazz's life by his side. Literally."
Prowl did not look impressed.
"I will try, but I make no promises."
"Try to not get yourself killed, Prowl. I rather like you."
"I'm honoured, although I think the other Primes may have a thing or two to say about it."
"Life is a right, Prowl. I'm not about to kill you for what you are."
It was a conversation that seemed to happen a lot. Prowl just nodded as he stood, sensing his dismissal. "Thank you, Optimus."
Any of the other Primes would have killed him on the spot. But when Optimus had heard that there was a demon in a rural town, he had set off with the lie he wanted to destroy it on his own, yet when he came back he had returned with Prowl. Optimus had later revealed that he was originally planning on killing him, but when he saw that he wasn't the twisted monster he was always told they were, and saw that Prowl was helping them get rid of a bad case of scraplets, he had decided he wanted Prowl on his team.
Prowl was forever grateful that his accident of letting a few scraplets follow him through the portal saved his life, although he never ever told the Prime it was his fault the place was infested.
Prowl left the office, closed the door, looked left and jumped.
Jazz.
"Uh... Hello?" Prowl awkwardly began, remembering what his Prime had said.
"Hi! Have ya had any energon yet?"
"No I haven't."
"Cool, come on let's go!" Jazz chirped, grabbing onto Prowls arm and tugging him along. Prowl looked over his shoulder when he heard a door open and saw Optimus giving him a thumbs up. Prowl glared. Prick.
The Rec room was blessedly empty, and why was made obvious when Prowl checked the time. Middle of the shift, when mecha were either working or sleeping.
"I thought you'd be on shift, Jazz." Prowl said as he collected his own cube.
"Ah just got back from a mission, Ratch' just cleared me. He told me ta get some energon and some recharge." Jazz replied.
"And the first thing you did was go and find me?"
"Yep! Ya only seem ta refuel whenever Ah get ya. Ratch' told me."
"Oh." Prowls lip twitched. "Well, thank you."
"You're welcome." Jazz replied as he took a swig from his cube. "So, what was it ya needed ta tell me?"
"What? I... I don't follow."
"Prime told me that ya had somethin' ya wanted ta say, it's why Ah knew where ya were."
Prowls hands clenched, and his cube cracked. Jazz took a step back.
"There is nothing I want to say." Prowl coldly replied. "There are things I need to say though." He replied more softly, looking at his cube and sighing, quietly muttering 'not another one' before he downed his cube. "I believe we will need somewhere more private. My office, perhaps?"
Jazz slowly, albeit hesitantly nodded. The rest of his cube was quickly finished and he put it into the receptacle. He followed Prowl to his office, and tried to not panic when the door was locked.
"The doll in your subspace. I'll need you to give it to me."
"How did ya-?"
"It contains a part of me. If you would please?"
Jazz removed it, and hesitantly began to hold it out.
"Don't worry, I won't take it. Not yet. There's still more than a groon left on our contract."
"Contract?"
"Don't play coy. I know you've worked it out, Jazz."
"Ya are a demon." Jazz breathlessly replied, although it was more he was speaking to himself. "Ah did suspect it but..." Jazz trailed off, looking down at the doll. He handed it over.
And promptly, his knees gave out. He felt cold, as though ice was wrapping around him. His visor flickered and his head swam, his hands unsure as whether they should wrap around himself to try and stay warm and offer comfort, or support his body so he didn't face plant onto the floor.
Prowl didn't seem to notice Jazz at first. He had it. His spark it was there it was right there he could have it he could be whole again-
But he looked down and saw that Jazz was on the floor, struggling to breathe and trembling, he decided he could wait just a little while longer. He sat down next to Jazz, and the mech seemed to immediately get better.
"Tha' was horrible." Jazz gasped.
"That was why your Carrier, I assume, summoned me. He made a contact with me, and your life was part of it."
Jazz shakily nodded. "It's a bit late ta go through the terms an' conditions, isn't it?"
"Be glad I am, most don't." Prowl replied. "What I did for you, Jazz, was give you a chance to live. All you had to do was keep this doll at your side at all times. Simple, right?"
"Simple."
"But in return, once you hit adulthood, you had to give me back the doll, and the one who summoned me will have their lifespan cut short."
"How short?" Jazz hesitantly asked.
"By however many vorn the contract lasted for."
"W-will my Carrier die?" Jazz nervously asked.
"He may deactivate, yes."
"After the contract ends, Ah'll be ill again won't Ah."
"Unfortunately, yes."
Jazz looked down at his hands.
Prowl gingerly handed back the doll and stood as Jazz hugged it closely to himself.
"He never told me. So either way, we're both gunna end up dead?"
"You will only become ill-"
"What Ah have has never been seen in mecha my age because they always die as a sparklin'. Ah should be dead! It gets worse as ya get older!"
"I'm not sure it's that bad-" Prowl attempted, trying to comfort him.
"No, it is. Just losin' contact with this thing can kill me, when Ah was younger Ah'd throw it from ma cot an' Ah'd make the night. It's gotten worse."
Prowl didn't know what to say to that.
"Does anyone know about your condition? Any of the medics?"
"No. They'd kick me out if they did."
"There is something I can do. You probably won't like it."
"What is it?"
"Well... Your glorious Prime suggested that we swap pieces of spark."
"Ya mean bond?"
Prowl almost flinched at the word. "... Yes. That."
"Ah- Ah'm not sure..."
"I won't force you to." Prowl replied. "I understand that it's permanent."
Jazz nodded. "Thanks."
"Before you get too excited, just know I only do this because I have to. The Prime does not want you dead."
"An' here Ah thought ya cared." Jazz sarcastically replied as he subspaced the doll. "But when ya could kill me a moment ago ya didn't, surprise surprise."
"Do not push your luck." Prowl hissed.
Jazz just glared back.
As it turned out, Jazz was a light weight.
His Carrier had never let him have high-grade, constantly aware of his illness, and so this was Jazz's first experience with it.
Prowl, on the other hand, could hold his high-grade.
The reason why they were drinking? Well, they'd just won a battle. Their generous reward from the towns folk they had defended had been the hefty load of high-grade that the Decepticons they had just turfed out owned.
Upon seeing lecherous looks on other mechs faces, Prowl promptly took Jazz back to his quarters. When he was too drunk to even open the door, Prowl sighed, looked up, asked Primus why it was him, and then proceeded to guide Jazz to his own.
Here, he dumped Jazz down onto the berth.
Jazz drunkenly giggled and wriggled backwards, attempting to pull Prowl down with him.
"No. No." Prowl sternly said, attempting to wriggle away.
"But Proooowl! Please?"
"No! You are overcharged-"
"No I am not!"
"I think you'll find you are."
"Am not!"
"You are." Prowl snapped with a tone of finality. He quickly flicked himself free and stepped backwards. "Goodnight, Jazz."
"G'nigh' Prowler." Jazz sleepily replied, and when Prowl whacked his head around to stare in disbelief at the mech who dared to give him a nickname, he saw that Jazz was fast asleep.
Prowl moved back into the room again and pulled the covers over Jazz.
As he walked out, he worried his bottom lip. Could he be getting attached to Jazz? It was almost nonsense, but...
The idea of the mech dying in a groon was not something Prowl particularly wanted to think about.
A few joors later, Prowl felt the need to check up on Jazz before he himself went to recharge. His spare blanket currently resided on his sofa, the place where he would be spending the night.
Footsteps light, he crept into the room to find that Jazz was awake.
"'Sup." Jazz greeted, visor brightening.
"Are you feeling any better?" Prowl asked, slowly turning up the lights.
"Not too bright." Jazz quickly blurted out, hand coming up to shield his visor. Prowl dimmed them slightly before continuing on towards Jazz. "Ah feel much better. Thanks for gettin' me outta there."
"You're welcome."
"An... Thanks for after that..." Jazz awkwardly continued, unable to meet Prowls optics.
Prowl raised an optic ridge at him. "I will be in the main room if you need me." He simply replied.
When Prowl had left the room again, Jazz was nearly overcome with the urge to scream into a pillow.
Stupid, stupid!
He'd be dammed to admit that he had a crush on Prowl but..!
It felt wrong, so wrong. He wasn't even sure why - Prowl hated him, and he knew that it would be fruitless. In a groon he would be ill again, and if he lasted longer than a cycle he would be amazed.
But after he had gotten over the initial shock, he had noticed the differences between the doll and Prowl (for instance, those icy optics that Jazz could just stare at all day...) and he had felt a little better about himself.
But Prowl... Was unattainable. He had even said it himself - he was only offering to help Jazz live more than a groon because the Prime made him, and even Jazz knew that the Primes were practically made to kill demons. Prowl only did it because his life was at stake.
It... Stung.
Jazz knew he shouldn't have expected any different but it didn't make it feel any better. Part of him had hoped that they would have at least been able to become friends. He could live with that.
Prowl watched him from a distance.
Jazz had spent the night in his quarters, and then in the morning he had received a curious message from his Prime asking after Jazz. The mech had the audacity to ask if he had considered the Primes word, and so Prowl felt the need to explain himself.
He was reluctant to bond to a mortal, let alone someone he did not know nor, as they considered it so highly in bonding, love. It wasn't fair to Jazz, who would be stuck with it for his entire functioning, nor did Prowl think that he would ever be able to live it down among the other demons. They were already calling him cushy and soft simply because the Prime had not killed him. Of course, none of them were stupid enough to attack him.
Attacking him would just be suicide.
Jazz was talking animatedly with an orange mech on comms - Blaster? And as Prowl lip read he discovered he was talking about the party last night. His optics widened as he saw his name mentioned, but Blaster shifted and was in the way before he found out why.
Drat. He couldn't even ask about what had been said - how frustrating! Jazz likely wouldn't mention how he had tried to get Prowl into the berth with him - embarrassment one major and deciding factor - which cut it down to Jazz saying that it was Prowl who had pulled him out from the mechs and brought him to his quarters so he could recharge safely.
Oooh the others would have a field day if they knew.
Two presences beside him distracted Prowl, and he looked to see the two twins staring up at him.
"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker."
"Sir." Sideswipe replied, Sunstreaker just grunting.
"Is there something you need?" Prowl asked, holding back the urge to sigh.
"Training room four is ready for us to use." Sideswipe replied, and now Prowl was looking closer he noticed the slight tremble to his frame. Prowl gestured for them to lead the way, and for once he didn't shout at them for running in the halls.
The moment the door closed and locked behind them, the twins were immediately enveloped in shadows and in a blink they were no longer their mech disguises, but in their true forms. Spiked armour, bright purple optics, clawed hands and sharp, sharp teeth.
They were by far too young to have developed some of the features Prowl had, but it had never stopped the two from challenging him to a friendly fight now and then. But this time, it was no fight.
"When the two of you are ready, we can begin." Prowl said, casually sitting in a chair that had been placed against the wall. The twins didn't waste a second before launching into a sparring session, blows being traded faster than any mortal optics would be able to see.
"So, what's the deal with Jazz?" Sideswipe suddenly asked. Prowls doorwings twitched.
"You know we do not discuss our contracts."
"No, not that kind of deal."
"It is none of your business."
"Aww, come on! You're meant to be teaching us!"
"I am. Pay attention to your fight." Prowl said, and a split second later Sunstreaker landed a punch on his twins throat, knocking him backwards and leaving him gasping for breath.
"Are you both done?" Prowl asked.
"I am fine, although if I need to continue..." Sunstreaker replied, trailing off as glanced at his twin.
"I'm good." He replied.
Prowl nodded. "Good. Today, it will be about control. You must remain hidden at all times, nobody can know what you are."
"What if someone already knows?" Sideswipe asked with a telling glance in Sunstreakers direction. Sunstreaker simply twitched, corner of his mouth going down.
"Then it is even more important that you concentrate. You must ensure you are safe for them to be around."
Sunstreaker seemed to relax at that, as though he had expected a different answer.
"Now, shall we begin?"
The twins stumbled out of the room sore, banged up and groaning. Prowl followed with an instruction to clean up at the wash racks before resting in their quarters, and that they would soon meet to discuss what went wrong and how to fix it.
Prowl put a hand on Sunstreakers shoulder before he left. "Remember what I said. I quite like Bluestreak."
Thoroughly embarrassed, Sunstreaker just grunted some nonsensical reply and followed his twin.
Doorwings fluttering to shake out any kinks, Prowl returned to his office.
Typing up his assessment for the twins with one hand and holding a datapad to read with another, Prowl found himself short-handed.
He extended his field, concentrating hard to feel into the hallway. Nobody there. With a sigh of relief he pulled it back in to where it usually comfortably extended, and send the command for the door to lock and security camera to deactivate. Optimus had long ago allowed Prowl the option, and Red Alert had begrudgingly accepted it under the guise that much sensitive information was handled in Prowls office.
Putting down the datapad and standing up, Prowl allowed himself to revert back to his true form.
Much, much bigger than the twins, his spikes were more pronounced, optics a deeper purple, claws sharper and larger. His doorwings split into three, each hooking round savagely. In between them, snake-like metallic appendages sprouted, each with their own gripping mechanism.
Satisfied, Prowl located his stool and swapped out his chair for it, he'd never fit, sitting down and continuing his work, picking up more pads and typing faster than before.
When the pile was almost complete, Prowl decided it was time to change back, as he never liked to remain as he was for long, and he stood again.
Stretching and popping his joints, Prowl exhaled heavily.
It was getting tiring. Try as he might, he couldn't think of a way to save Jazz without condemning him at the same time. It was either Jazz died, or he was stuck with Prowl.
Glancing at his datapads, he decided they could wait. His shift had ended fifty breems ago, it would be fine for him to leave.
Downloading the assessment onto a datapad, Prowl tucked it under his arm and headed towards the twins quarters. Maybe he'd be able to pick up some high grade whilst he was there?
Sideswipe opened the door, and he saw that they had company in the form of Bluestreak.
Plans of picking up high grade whilst he was there dashed, he simply handed over the datapad and left.
Bluestreak was curious, however, and he couldn't help but peek over Sideswipes shoulder.
"What's this? Is it demon stuff?" Bluestreak asked.
"Prowl isn't a demon." Sunstreaker snorted.
"But his optics were purple."
The twins both froze and shared a look.
::Uh, Prowl?:: Sideswipe gingerly said.
::Yes?::
::Your optics were purple::
Prowl audibly swore, and ducked into the nearest supply cupboard. He rubbed at his optics, blinking furiously. How stupid!
Bluestreak couldn't help but giggle.
"It's not funny." Sunstreaker snapped.
"But he's meant to be all cool and collected." Bluestreak replied. "Besides, you know I mean no harm by it. It's pretty cool, being in on a secret."
"You honestly can't tell anyone, Blue." Sunstreaker said as Bluestreak slid onto his lap. "It can get us killed."
"Your secrets safe with me." He replied.
::Does Bluestreak know?:: Prowl suddenly demanded.
::He does now:: Sideswipe honestly replied.
Prowl harshly cut the comm.
"I think Prowl's pissed he slipped." Sideswipe nervously said.
"I'll find him later." Bluestreak said, leaning more heavily against Sunstreaker. "Let him know I'm not bothered."
"Good idea!" Sideswipe chirped, throwing the datapad to Sunstreaker. "Now, about that prank?"
Jazz could sense that something was wrong.
Nervously pacing his quarters, he wrung his hands restlessly.
"You're giving me the creeps." His roommate blandly said, studying their hands.
"Somethin' doesn't feel right." Jazz replied, still continuing to pace.
"You've said that already. Five times already. And you'll wear a hole if you continue like that."
"But really! Can't ya feel it?"
"Uh, no?"
Jazz hopped from foot to foot before stilling completely.
Just as his roommate was about to ask what was wrong, there was a loud banging at the door.
It was immediately answered.
The roommate only saw Prowl for a split second before Jazz was yanked out and the door slammed shut behind him.
Deciding it was best to stay out of it, they didn't pursue.
Prowl tugged Jazz along behind him, stalking like a predator back towards his office. Any protests were ignored as Prowl continued on.
Finally, Jazz was released and Prowl locked the door behind them.
"What gives?!" Jazz hissed, unimpressed beyond measure. "Ya can't just yank someone outta their quarters like tha'!"
"I just did." Prowl replied, hands trembling. "Please, my spark-the doll, I, I need..."
Jazz nervously removed it from his subspace, and held it close as he walked towards Prowl. "C-can Ah keep in contact with it? Ah don't wanna..." He trailed off, looking at the floor. It seemed that Prowl didn't care, as he pulled Jazz towards him either way and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.
A sigh of relief danced over Jazz's neck cabling and he tensed, visor brightening. Pit if that didn't feel good.
The mantra of 'it's just a groon, it's just a groon' ran over and over in Prowls head. He could do this. He'd already done one, he could do another. He could do this.
Prowl looked down, and immediately felt ashamed of himself. Holding Jazz close to himself it was almost as if he were trying to hug them, body curled over them as though to protect or shield, or even comfort.
They were not things a demon should be doing.
Quickly releasing Jazz, he stepped back and awkwardly coughed.
I'm sorry I... I shouldn't have done that."
"Ya really miss it, huh?" Jazz asked, looking down at the doll. "What would happen if Ah gave it back?"
"You cannot." Prowl snapped. "I refuse to go against the contract."
"But-"
"No questions, no excuses, no nothing. I'm not going back on my word."
Jazz subspaced the doll again. "Don't do that again." He replied. "Ya can't just yank mecha outta their quarters, others'll start talkin'."
"Talking?" Prowl asked, optic ridge quirking.
"They'll think somethin's up, an Ah know ya have no interest in me so ya might wanna-"
"Stop getting your hopes up." Prowl finished for him, getting a shocked look from Jazz.
"Wha- no!"
"I may not gossip but it doesn't mean it doesn't reach me. The grape vine is quite miraculous.
"That wasn't what Ah was gunna say."
"It may as well have been. Come now, pet. Is a groon really worth it?" Prowl purred, lifting Jazz's chin with a hooked digit. He noticed Jazz's body temperature heighten and his breathing change. How cute.
Alas, he couldn't toy with him all day. After all, the clock was ticking for Jazz.
"No." Jazz quietly replied, and Prowl released him.
"Then do not waste it chasing after the impossible."
He didn't hear Jazz's reply, and when he turned he was no longer there. Before he could miss his presence, Prowl returned to his datapads.
Jazz, on the other hand, was swiftly walking away.
Thoroughly embarrassed, he flopped down onto his berth. None of his roommates were there, and Jazz supposed that the one witness to Prowls outburst had gone to spread the news.
Just what he needed.
Huffing, he got under his blanket and held a pillow close to his chest. He felt awful, and stupid. Oh so very stupid. Jazz decided that in the future, he'd just keep his stupid trap shut-
Jazz realised with a start that there was no future for him. It had never been something that crossed his mind before as it had never been a problem, but now it... It was.
Everything he had never done flashed before him. Gone to Maccadams. Seen the crystal gardens, the crystal city, the night life in Polyhex that he had always had to watch from up above at the window, seen a wild turbofox, gone to a zoo, found his Sire-
The last one left him feeling cold and helpless, ice twisting its claws around his spark. He had joined the army in the hopes that his Sire would be found there, but no such luck. Jazz hoped that he was just based elsewhere and that he hadn't lied.
Jazz dimmed his visor. He had to make the most of this last groon, he had to.
The floor pulsed as he stormed towards the Rec room.
Red Alert had called him in a frenzy, demanding that he fix whatever it was that was happening. Rave? Unauthorised party? Prowl didn't know, but the security director wouldn't shut up until he had fixed it.
And lo behold, right in the thick of it was none other than Jazz.
All activity and movement stopped when the occupants saw him, even the music stopped. Very unimpressed, Prowl strode straight towards Jazz, looking down on them with a single optic ridge raised.
Jazz stared innocently back.
His arm was grabbed and Prowl lead him out, not releasing him until they were back in his office. The usual disciplinary speech tumbled from his mouth, well practiced to the point of monotone, while Jazz just silently stared at him.
"As punishment..." Prowl trailed off, taking a moment to think. He had the perfect punishment dancing right in the palm of his hand, but it wasn't particularly Autobot. Cleaning the wash racks or taking monitor duty or the night shift were more of the punishments Jazz usually received, although he clearly didn't care at this moment in time.
But if it got the message through, it got it through.
"Your doll, please."
"Wha- no! How is that a punishment?"
"It is something you find unpleasant, and it's deterring."
"Can't Ah just get somethin' normal, like monitor duty? Ah-Ah don't wanna..."
"Picking your punishment defeats the purpose of one."
"Ah refuse." Jazz defiantly replied. "Ah'm not riskin' ma life for this. Ya don't even have proof Ah was the one who did it!"
"Proof enough is that you were there, and have an apparent reputation for parties." Prowl replied, stalking towards Jazz, backing the mech against the wall. "And you will hand it over." He reached out to place a hand above his shoulder to trap him in, but froze when he saw the clawed digits, and a risked glance at Jazz's face showed barely hidden fear.
Prowl immediately backed off. "I believe that shall suffice. You are dismissed."
Jazz didn't hesitate to scramble out.
Prowl nearly clawed his face. What a fool he was, preaching control yet barely able to control himself. He wasn't even sure what he wanted, the doll, or Jazz?
Something lightly touched his elbow, and he looked down to see what it was. Jazz was back, caution written across his face. In one hand, he held the doll while the other began to fiddle with one of the buttons crudely stitched onto its face.
"Sorry." Jazz softly said, holding the doll close to himself. "Ah didn't mean ta make ya angry."
Prowl just sighed, leaning against the desk. "I look a mess." He replied, studying his clawed hands.
"Ya look like a demon, but... None of the ones Ah saw in books ever had wings. Or tentacles." Jazz curiously replied, helm tilting to the side.
"I am but a rare exception." Prowl supplied. "Now, if you have nothing left to say, I need to concentrate. This form rarely leaves easily."
"Ah'll see ya later then." Jazz replied, subspacing the doll and quickly hopping through the door. He didn't want to give Prowl away.
Jazz had taken to watching the clock, starting a count down until his final hour.
It was unhealthy and he shouldn't have done it - He knew it was a bad idea, and he knew Prowl would go spare if he found out, but it was somewhat... Comforting. Stuck on a mission? Well, not long left. You'd die before they got you. It's all good. Need to do this thing? Well, look how little time you have! Chop chop, get to it! They're waiting!
His roommate, who Jazz later found out was called Plasma (he hadn't quite caught it the first time, and as he was too embarrassed to ask he had just called him various nicknames), had noticed Jazz's bad habit.
"What is it with you and the time lately?" They asked, slightly irritated.
"Nothin', jus'… a superstition in ma family. Never quite let go of it." Jazz quickly said, hoping Plasma didn't pick up on his bluff. Plasma gave him a flat look before just nodding.
"Tell me the real answer when you're up for it."
"That was!" Jazz indignantly spluttered, but somewhat thankful that Plasma didn't press the issue. He checked his chronometer again. Ten cycles until judgment day, and just ten cycles until his birthday.
How cruel.
Checking his rota, Jazz found that he had been taken off schedule on his birthday – likely Prowls doing – and he was also free on the day before. Someone was going to notice this, as it was incredibly difficult to get two days off in a row – especially for someone as low a rank as he was. Jazz just hoped no one brought it up.
"So, what's on your mind?" Plasma asked, putting down the datapad they were reading and rolling onto his front.
"Ah still haven't found ma Sire, it's been almost two groons since Ah got here an' not a single word." Jazz replied, huffing.
"Oh, yeah. That." Plasma replied, frowning. Jazz had spoken to him about it before – he remembered. "And they still wont tell you?"
"Confidential information." Jazz replied. "They wont even let me run a search for his name, most of the files are blocked an' require an Officer to unlock it."
"I don't suppose Prowl let you, then."
"Ah didn' ask." Jazz replied, the obvious suddenly hitting him. He had been thinking of people like Ratchet and Ironhide – they'd never unlock it for him. Prowl, on the other hand, knew him better and knew that he was simply searching for his Sire. Nothing more.
"Ah'm gunna go ask!" Jazz announced, leaping to his feet. Before Plasma could say anything, Jazz was out the door.
Jazz knocked on Prowls door, the lock engaged. "Prowl?" He called from the outside. The lock beeped, signaling it was open, and Jazz slipped in.
"Ah need a favour." Jazz immediately asked.
"Hello to you, too." Prowl replied dryly. Jazz started when he realized why the door was locked – Prowl was undisguised, and was using all of his limbs (bar his pedes, they were still tucked under the desk) to hold datapads and deal with the information they held. His optics were glued to the metallic tentacles as Prowl continued.
"What was it you needed? And please stop staring, you'll scare them."
Jazz's optics snapped back to Prowls. "Them?"
"A joke."
"Yanno, ya really need ta work on 'em."
"If you wanted my help, you'd be best off being polite."
"Sorry, sorry!" Jazz replied. "Anyway, Ah need ya to authorize ma account for some files-"
Prowl gave him a sharp look. "What files? They're locked for a reason."
"Just files on Quintal."
"I don't see why you need them."
"He's ma Sire – he told me he was gunna be on this base, but Ah haven't seen him or heard of him."
Prowl put down one of his datapads and focused on his screen, typing away on his keyboard. His optics flicked across the screen, and his lips pressed together. "It says here he's no longer registered for this base."
Jazz felt his spark sink. Oh. Prowl continued, not noticing Jazz's crestfallen expression. "I remember this. Transferred to a base closer to the front after an incident that occurred here in Iacon. I wasn't the Officer who dealt with it so I'm not sure on the details, but it resulted in another mech losing an arm. It's now somewhat of a taboo subject here."
"Sounds like ma Sire." Jazz replied somewhat dejectedly. That did sound like the hot-headed mech – a lot like him – but why didn't he say he was no longer in Iacon? His Carrier didn't know, nor did he. No message had been received.
"Jazz? Is something wrong?"
"He never said anythin'." Jazz simply replied. "Ah-Ah only came to Iacon because Ah thought that's where he'd be, otherwise Ah'd have applied back in Polyhex."
Prowl felt a pang in his chest, as though he didn't want Jazz to leave. He quenched it – there was no need to be feeling like that towards a mortal doomed to die.
"I'll try and find where he transferred to, I may be able to call him." Prowl replied, typing away again.
"Ah have another question."
"Go on."
"Ah don't see why that was deemed confidential information at an Officers level."
Prowl froze. Jazz raised a very, very good point. That information was nothing, Jazz should have been able to access it. Even as a Special Operations mech (granted, he was still in training) that information should have been available to him. Unless someone didn't want him in and had changed its classification. Quintal was a strange name and nobody would have noticed unless it was specifically looked for, and being a taboo subject it simply wasn't known around the base by the newbies and those who bore witness to the event simply didn't talk about it.
"I will look into that." Prowl replied, making a note of it. "You're leaving this a little late, aren't you?"
"Don't remind me." Jazz testily replied.
Prowl sighed to himself as Jazz left. He hadn't meant to offend him, nor had he meant anything by it. If anything, he was just as reluctant as Jazz was to remember the smaller, visored mechs days were numbered. Very numbered.
Ten cycles.
Prowl remembered seeing him for the first time – he was oh so small and fragile, and now Prowl had seen him as an adult, with a personality larger than life and very alive. It was hard to believe the healthy-looking mech was actually barely clinging onto life.
::I've secured a connection with your Sire:: Prowl had said.
Jazz had sprinted to the communications room, skidding into the booth Prowl had pointed him towards. He typed in the code Prowl had given him, and his Sires face was soon on the screen. It was grainy and static-laiden, but Jazz could recognize that face anywhere.
"Looking good, Jazz." Quintal greeted, smirking as he blew smoke from his mouth.
"Ya smoking again." Jazz replied with a frown, clearly disapproving of his Sires addiction. "Ya know that messes up ya intake."
"Eh. It's better than the air here." He replied. "Anyway, what's this I hear about you getting into Iacon?"
"They accepted me." Jazz replied proudly, fluffing up his armor slightly. "Ah dunno how Ah got in, Ah mean Ah only just left the academy in Polyhex, but-"
"Wait, wait, wait, you didn't transfer from your academy?" Quintal asked, almost forgetting about his cigar.
"Nah, Ah didn'. They'd make me go to Polyhex, an Ah wanted ta come here."
"Why Iacon?" Quintal asked, scrunching his nose. "They're so uptight."
"It's where ya were. At least, where ya told us ya were." Jazz replied, narrowing his optics at him. Quintal at least had the decency to look sheepish.
"Ah, yeah. I was gunna tell you, but… very embarrassing."
"Ah got the gist of it from Prowl." Jazz replied. "Ya remember who Prowl is, right?"
"Explicitly. Jazz, stay away from him. He's… there's just something about him I can't quite place. He's off, be careful with him."
"He's fine, we're… friends, I guess." Jazz replied, finding him stuck as of how to explain their relationship. His Sire didn't know Jazz was alive through a contract formed with a demon – he was away on deployment when his Carrier had summoned Prowl, and it was kept secret. Jazz himself was only told when his Carrier felt he was old enough to understand, and to know that he must not tell anyone.
"Hmm, I find that hard to believe. He's a sparkless little prick- don't tell him I said that, Blaster, I know you're listening in. Jazz, I've gotta go. Tell your Carrier I love him, okay? I'll try and be home soon."
"See ya, Sire." Jazz replied, standing when his Sire blew a kiss at the screen and cut the communication. He felt hollow now – he wouldn't live to see his Sire again.
There was little to no point on dwelling on it, though. There was still a small shred of hope for him – maybe Ratchet would be able to help him? Or, an even smaller, miniscule chance: Prowl would do something.
It had been briefly mentioned before. Prowl said that he'd let Jazz decide what he wanted – Prowl to stick by his side for the rest of his life, or if he'd accept the cold embrace of death.
The final day was slipping through Jazz's fingers.
Prowl was nowhere to be seen, so Jazz left the base, found a secluded place and just... Sat there. It was quiet, so quiet that he could hear the low rumble of his internals and the whispering of the wind as it disturbed the leaves, the sounds of animals and the water flowing in the creek.
He was not expecting Prowl to sit down beside him.
"Here is the last place I would have expected to find you." Prowl admitted, looking around himself.
"Ah figured it'd be peaceful here."
"You weren't wrong."
They shared silence for a few moments. Or was it hours? Jazz didn't know. But he eventually broke it. "When were you going to do it?"
"Back at base, where it's safer." Prowl replied, knowing what Jazz was thinking about. "So long as you do not leave my side after, you will be fine."
"And if Ah do?"
"You know what will happen."
"True." Jazz replied, chin resting on his arms. "Ah can't see any use for me in the army if Ah can't stay farther than a stones throw from ya."
"You will have plenty of use." Prowl replied. "I'm not the only demon on base, I'm sure you will be able to navigate just fine without me-"
"But Ah can never be on ma own! Ah can't fulfil my duty anymore - no more missions, no more infiltration - nothin' that Ah'm good at."
"The solution may be more of a curse." Prowl replied.
"Ya said there were other demons... Who are they?"
"It is not my place to say, it is up to them to come forwards. A safety precaution, you understand?"
"Of course." Jazz solemnly replied.
Prowl curtly nodded. "Unfortunately I am required back at base. I suggest you return soon, should it get too close to the next cycle I may... Become unhinged, and hunt you."
"Ah'll meet ya in ya office."
Prowl transformed and sped away, racing back towards base.
Optimus was waiting for him at the entrance.
"Sir." Prowl greeted as he transformed, wings dipping.
"Prowl. I believe you wanted to discuss something?"
"Your office will be more fitting for this conversation."
"Very well." The Prime replied, turning and leading the way towards his office. Once inside, Prowl immediately looked very on edge and put out.
"I am not quite sure how to word this." Prowl began, wringing his hands. The tips of his fingers were slowly beginning to elongate and sharpen, his optics turning purple. The Prime kept back.
"Take your time."
"I... I find myself not wanting Jazz to die, or suffer through my constant presence. The only alternative is bonding yet I cannot bring myself to endanger him in that way."
"Endanger?"
"You know just as well as I how to kill a demon, Optimus. Our sparks are our weak points, killing Jazz would kill me and my death is something many eagerly await."
"I don't imagine many would be eager to attack either of you when a Prime is so close." Optimus replied.
"I... Still don't feel comfortable with the idea. We won't be soldiers forever."
"But allies we will be."
"I don't even know what it'll do to Jazz. Prolong his life, yes, but our sparks are so different. If it's not the illness that kills him, it could be bonding."
"That is true." Optimus forlornly replied. "And another contract is impossible?"
"I would form another if I could, but yes. It is something I cannot do."
The Prime exhaled in annoyance. "This is quite the predicament."
"I... Will await Jazz's answer. I gave him his options."
"Let's just hope he doesn't choose the wrong one."
Joors later and Jazz was back on base, relaxing in Prowls quarters. When he had discovered that Prowl wasn't in his office like promised, he had commed him and was told to wait there.
Jazz didn't notice Prowl enter the room, and the next thing he knew the mech was stepping out of the shadows, optics bright purple and claws tapping his legs.
"Do you have your answer?"
"Not yet. Ah was hopin' ya'd be willin' ta sit for a lil' while... Ta help."
"Of course. Are you ready?"
"As Ah'll ever be." Jazz replied, handing him the doll.
Jazz didn't notice hitting the floor, but the next thing he knew Prowl was on his hands and knees next to him, gasping for breath while Jazz's vision swam, and then those purple optics were on his, and the panic rose in them when the mech realised Jazz wasn't moving. Sharp claws floundered at his side, desperately searching for something. Their claws caught on something and it was hastily removed, a wire quickly extended from his wrist and plugged into the exposed port, coding Jazz only vaguely recognised flashing over his HUD before his chest plates opened and he began to panic.
His hands came up to push Prowl away, legs copying them, but he stopped when he saw Prowl had made no move to open his own.
Prowls hand, although clawed and dreadfully sharp, gently brushed against Jazz's spark. There was a surge of energy, Jazz arching off the ground, before he blacked out for a moment.
When he came to again, Prowl was sat on the other side of the room, his hand singed. It smoked, and Jazz could smell it.
"What the frag did ya do?" Jazz hissed, his spark still reeling. His hands came up over his chest plating as if to protect it.
"I just saved your life." Prowl emotionlessly replied, optics never leaving his hand.
"How is molesting me savin' ma life?"
"It was the only way to transfer payment." Prowl replied. "If you're going to be ungrateful, then go. Leave. I do not want to hear it."
"... What payment?"
"The payment for your contract. Usually I would take it, however I felt you needed it more."
"As in ma Carriers life?"
"Yes, that. Enjoy your extension." Prowl said as he stood, smoking hand now limply hanging at his side.
"We... Should probably go see Ratch'..." Jazz said, gesturing at his hand.
"I am fine." Prowl replied, walking past Jazz and towards the door.
"Wait, where ya goin'?"
"My office. There is work that needs to be done."
"It can wait." Jazz replied, standing and moving to grab Prowls elbow. "Ya need ta see Ratchet."
"I said that I am fine."
"Ya not!"
"I am fine!" Prowl snapped, turning on Jazz. The smaller mech didn't back down, glaring back defiantly.
"'Cause a smoking hand is totally normal. Yeah, right."
"It is an unfortunate side effect, it will go in due time."
"Fine, bleed out over ya datapads. See if Ah care."
"That was my initial plan."
"Ah'm sure Ratchet won't be happy..."
"I do not care for the emotional wellbeing of the medic."
"He'll be less kind on ya next checkup?"
"Does not bother me."
"Do it for me?"
Prowl twitched, optics flashing. Jazz's tanks tightened as he realised he had made a mistake.
"Do it for you? I have done many things for you, more than you'd imagine, yet it is thrown in my face. I extend your freedom and you react with disgust. You are infuriating."
Jazz tried to step back, but Prowls hand stopped him.
"Ah-sorry-"
"So infuriating..." Prowl softly mumbled, and Jazz realised that he had moved much, much closer and that a hand was gently brushing his cheek-
Jazz thought his spark was going to stop when Prowl pushed their lips together, taking care to not prick his lips with his sharp teeth. All too soon for him it was over and he was looking into purple optics.
"I should not have done that."
"Prowl..."
"I... I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's fine, really, Ah'm not offended... That's not what ya sorry about, is it?"
"... No, it's not."
"Ah should'a guessed." Jazz replied, rubbing the back of his helm.
"This- us- it could never happen."
"Tell me about them."
"Who?"
"The other person."
"You misunderstand, there is no one else-"
"Stop tryin' ta spare ma feelin's all'a the time. Ah've seen ya with a wistful look in ya optic, starin' off into space with ya head in ya palm."
"There is no one else." Prowl insisted.
"Then why can't it happen?" Jazz asked. Prowl understood his annoyance, it was as though he were waving a hunk of meat in front of a starving dog, and just had cruelly ripped it away when the dog had managed to nibble it.
"Because of what I am."
"But Ah'm fine with that, ya know Ah am."
"You don't understand." Prowl replied, hand slowly falling away from Jazz's cheek as he stepped back. "I couldn't bear to bring you to harm if anyone were to catch wind of this. I am a demon, you are a mortal, and I am not selfish enough to knowingly endanger you."
Jazz scoffed. "How would it be dangerous?"
"Many would like to see me dead, or seriously wounded. You would become my Achilles heel."
"Ah guess that'd be the complete opposite of what Optimus wants."
"And what I want. I did not throw away my payment for nothing."
"Ah'm touched." Jazz flatly replied. Thrown away? Nice to see he cared so much. "… But thanks. Thanks for extendin' ma life."
"You're most welcome."
This was meant to be out for valentines day, lol
I actually had it written, as always, but… personal stuff got in the way… pesky personal issues!
~Llama