A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers

The Matrix is a thing of the past, a device of the now, and a light for the future. The only reason we keep going is because we have the Matrix. That little silver key saved the world, saved our leader, saved our friend. Sam used the Matrix to bring back Optimus Prime. Optimus then used it to revive Jazz once he was released from his watery tomb. If they can just bring back whoever, then why not bring back me? Because they don't know I'm still here, watching over them. They don't see the light in me; see that my spark still shines even if my optics remain dark. I died for them so many years ago. Yes, they mourned my death, let my spark go in peace.

But I didn't want to go.

I refused to enter the Well of AllSparks. I wouldn't go. So I remained in a sort of limbo, rushing between a world I did not know and a black void with a silver light beckoning to me. I wanted so much to go into that light, but I could not. All logic pointed to that if they retrieved the Matrix, it would only be a matter of time before they realized what they could do with such power.

If only they saw things like I did.

I remember like it was yesterday, the battle for the AllSpark at that little dinky town no one remembers. It was like I was there, on the streets, in the fight. Bumblebee was, for some unknown reason, strapped to a towing vehicle. Ironhide and Ratchet were smashing up the downtown while attacking Brawl. Then it happened, the end of the world.

Megatron ripped Jazz in two.

Pain as I will never be able to fully understand, completely describe to another ripped through my spirit, burned my very spark away. If I was not already dead, I would have died then, at that moment. It wouldn't have mattered anymore because the one I loved with everything I once possessed was gone. Never to return again. He was here, somewhere in this dark oblivion, looking for the train home; back to a planet none of us had ever even heard of until Bumblebee ventured to it. A small part of me wanted him to be here with me; to be dead with me. But the rest of me knew where he belonged. He needed to be with Optimus, be a part of the team; not rusting away with my corpse. It would be selfish to have him that way, dead in the ground.

Though that is where I am.

They had brought me to this planet, Earth. They all knew Jazz didn't want to say goodbye. He had been by my side since the moment I gave back from the battle. I had been critical, on death row. My processor had taken a nasty injury, causing it to malfunction on the highest level. Looking back through the haze of pain and morphed memories, I can see Jazz's pain. The way that he looked at me. I knew what his optics were saying even through his visor. I could tell when he was crying, breaking when no one else could see through his smile. My last day online will forever be imprinted into my databanks.

"Don't ya dare leave meh!"

Those five words were worse than any goodbye ever written, ever sung. I didn't die because of my injuries. I died because my spark broke. I could feel it shattering within my chamber and monitors beeped angrily. Jazz's screams still haunt me to this day. Ratchet ran in to see Jazz clinging to a lifeless frame. A frame that once held his beloved. I watched over him from that moment on. I failed as his lover, but I would not fail as his protector. It took him several deca-cycles before he even let go of my frame, let alone let anyone else touch it. When Bumblebee sent in a transmission stating that the AllSpark was on Earth, well Optimus packed up his elite team of warriors and headed for Earth. Jazz wouldn't leave without me. Optimus agreed to bring my frame with to be buried on the new planet. And that is what happened.

It's hard watching yourself die; it's even harder watching other say goodbye.

It was a simple burial. Jazz spent two days picking out the place before they crashed on the planet's surface. Jazz decided everything and no one made the slightest objection. My frame was laid to rest underneath a large bit of vegetation known as a willow tree. Jazz made the maker himself. It was rough around the edges and the letters were crudely carved into the metal, but I had watched him put every ounce of energy he had left into creating it. It was perfect. Optimus lamented my death, saying I'd never be forgotten. Jazz managed to hold himself together until Ratchet's turn to speak. He began telling of a time that I had been trying to, and miserably failing to flirt with Jazz and grasp his attention. Before Ratchet could finish, Jazz flopped down onto the fresh grave and sobbed. No, screamed. He screamed until his vocalizer gave out. Ironhide and Ratchet dragged him away at dawn.

I wanted to be with him, my Jazz.

But not like this. I didn't want this. I didn't want Jazz to be in this much pain. I also didn't want him dead. Was there no happy median? Logic dictates yes, while emotions swirl around in a vortex inside my spark, telling me everything under the sun. Was I selfish for wanting Jazz to be with me? Or was I a coward for not wanting to die alone? Even I cannot answer that question.

"Optimus, it worked. Jazz is back online."

It took several days for that one to sink in as I watched my fellow Autobots in their new base. Small carbon-based creatures walked around as if they owned the place. I was not sure if that was supposed to be their new home. Jazz often left the shelter of the base to wander the island they were stuck on. It was a horrible thing to watch. When he decided that no one was around, that no one was near, he would look up into the sky and talk to me. Though he had no idea I was actually there. "Ay know what'd ya say if ya could hear meh now, talkin' tah some stars...but Ay miss ya...so much. Et still hurts, right 'ere, en mah spark. Ay'm gonna find ya one day. We'll beh tahgetha, fereva."

If only he knew how foolish he sounded...

Then I was gone from the island. I had been thrown back into that dark void, the oblivion that Megatron always failed to deliver. I was tumbling end over end, unable to orientate myself. Though that would be impossible in this endless sea of black. Then I saw it. The offering of the Well. Every time I wanted to go, get on with my life, be reborn; but I couldn't. I wanted to be with Jazz. If I couldn't be with him, I had to be there for him. Plain and simple. But then there was this feeling of tense pain and sorrow that wasn't mine. Light flooded everywhere, blinding me. I couldn't move. My entire being tensed up. My spark was throbbing harder than ever before. I thought my insides would explode. Then again, I didn't have internals. Or a frame for that matter. Then where was this pain coming from? What had I done to deserve it? There wasn't enough logic in the world to explain this to me at that very moment. I could see nothing but white and feel nothing but pain.

Could I die a second time?

Suddenly, I was very aware of everything. A chill was thick in the air. I was caked in a mushy substance that I couldn't recognize. Everything was off. My wings were stiff and bent out of shape. My spark throbbed painfully hard again, much like it was trying to leap right out of my chest. I couldn't understand why until I onlined my optics. I was met by the widest grin I will ever see.

"Welcome back, Prowler."

A/N: If you liked the story, please review!

I like reading constructive criticism.

~Nix