This is a story I wanted to do because I simply felt like it. It's just going to be not that many chapters, and just explains how the Autobots got Bumblebee and the likes. I'll probably start writing drabbles off of this, and everyone else is free to do so as well. [Although my writings are never good enough to do such things with, so I won't except much.] Just a warning to you, there is some slight violence in this chapter, so if you don't like dead bodies, don't read. The song used is When They Come For Me by Linkin Park. [I think I'm obsessed.]
When They Come For Me
Come For Me
I'll Be Gone
When They Come For Me
Come For Me
I'll Be Gone
He never liked having to scout something or someplace out. Especially if that some place happened to be totally ruined and completely torn apart. He knew he wasn't alone, sure; the others that were scouting out the rest of the broken city that he knew he couldn't reach by nightfall - like Mirage - were just farther away than he wanted them to be. But that was alright; he was fast enough to dodge enemy fire, and thought he could take on a few 'cons if need be. Weather he thought anyone who think him crazy for doing something like that or not, well, he couldn't deny them much of that. Then again, he was already dubbed as crazy for having missions that lead him into enemy base. But hey, it was all for the cause, right? And he was alright with that; he never did anything without good reason. He might have joined up young, yet he had to admit that he had grown up quickly.
He had to admit, though, the burning and destructed buildings always got to him; how could someone destroy their homeland and those in it was beyond him. This was how he always ended his scouting; having to think about anything and everything to pass the time, and take his mind off of what was going out around him. Buildings that used to be so tall and royal had fallen around him; leaving little standing and a large amount of rubble on the ground for him to crawl over. Every place seemed like the last; torn down and made into nothing but graves and an endless wasteland. Black smoke sufficed you if you weren't careful, and if it hadn't risen up, it made everything you saw like shadows. Everything he looked at made him unconsciously cringe, and every time he found a dead body he couldn't bear to look at it, it made him so sick. It was a sad thing, when you were willing to kill innocent people to get your way. Yet sadly, there were those out there who wanted to do things like that, and that disgusted him.
"Jazz, what's yer location?" suddenly came a gruff voice over the comm. Clicking on his comm, the saboteur responds.
"Down on the lower east side," Jazz spoke into the comm, agiling over yet another pile of rubble as he did so. "Nearly done; will be back in a few breems."
"Al'ight, jus' be careful," warned the voice. "There's been a sightin' a' a few 'cons strayin' around."
"Alright, thanks, 'Hide, Jazz out," and with that, Jazz turned the comm off. He had to admit, he had a little paranoia when it came to lone missions like this; everything felt so strange, even when there was nothing in site. "Man, then cons blew up this place t' nuthin'," commented Jazz to no one in particular; knowing he was just trying to have an intelligent conversation by talking to himself. "You'd think they'd be able to take better care of th' place if they're tryin' t' -"
Click. Click. Twitter. Chirrup. Squeak. Click. Chirrup. Sniffle.
"Huh?" Jazz asked, startled.
Instantly he checked his comm link, however realized that it had not come from there; no one was trying to contact him at the moment, nor did he accidentally try to contact anyone else. The saboteur paused for a moment, trying to listen for the noises again in the silence of the ruined city. Yet when none came, Jazz merely shrugged and decided that he was just hearing things, and kept on his way. He didn't get but a few feet when again he heard the noises coming from somewhere nearby; now he defintantly wasn't going crazy. A moment later, the sound came yet again, and this time it sounded closer. Looking around confusingly, Jazz decided to try and follow the noise; seeing as how he was curious and if he didn't, he knew that he would regret it later.
"Wonder what this is 'bout," muttered the silver mech, looking around cautiously, nearing a building with a hole in it's wall; it looked to have once been a home, however it's ruined structure told the story of it getting caught up in the battle and it ended up being the victim of the Decepticon army. And this completely confused the silver mech; if it was destroyed, why was there noises coming out of it? Surely, if it was a distress call, Prowl or someone else would have responded to it by now.
Tip toeing up to the building and peering in to what now seemed like an abandon home ,the most he saw was wreckage and dead bodies. He instantly decided that it was probably his processor playing tricks on him, and, seeing no movements, he almost guessed that it was someone off lining at last, and was about to make a mental prayer to Primus for them to have a safe journey to the Matrix, when he heard the sound come for the far right of the room, and slight movement. Peering in further and pulling out his weapon - being weary just in case in was a trap, and not really feeling like getting captures - Jazz examined the portion of the room from where the noise came from. And what he finally laid eyes on in the dimmed lighting of the evening sun nearly made his spark stop pulsing.
"R-Ratchet," he stuttered, realizing that he had somehow lost his voice. "G-get Prime n' 'Hide 'n a few others n' come t' mah position, 'kay? It's really important"
XXX
It didn't take long for Mirage to hunt down where Jazz had hid inside the building he used as a hiding spot, leading Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, and Prowl inside. While everyone else looked confused as to why Jazz had said that they needed to get to his position as fast as possible, Ratchet was fuming, pushing past the others to the mech that had called them there.
"Jazz, care to explain to me why you decided it was so urgent that you couldn't bring the situation to us?" asked the medic in a very annoyed tone, arms folded up on his chassis as "the look" covered his facial plates. "I have patients I need to attend to, thank you!"
When the group had entered, Jazz had been facing the wall, muttering to something he held in his arms. He had barely given them notice, however Ratchet seemed enough to wake the mech from his trance to look up with slight confusion, before frowning. And when Jazz frowned at something the medic said without first saying some snappy comeback that everyone else laughed at, that usually was not a good sign.
"Ratchet, ah didn't think it would'a been good t' bring this out in th' open," Jazz said more sternly then possibly he had ever spoken to the medic, turning around as he held the object close to him, before trying to present it without it falling to the ground with a slight tilt. All of the mechs in the room - minus one slightly pissed off Jazz, which again was a usually rare thing - gawked at what the silver mech held in his servos.
Wrapped in a torn blanket, tightly most likely because Jazz had done so to settle it down, was a small sparkling, half the size of the second in command's arms. It's face was a light yellow, and it's optics glowed a baby blue as it looked to the 'bots it was being presented to with a mixed expression of curiosity, confusion, and frightened look. It quickly whimpered when it realized that it was no longer being pressed against Jazz's chassis; not realizing that it's creators and what seemed to be an older sibling or family member were lying offlined on the floor nearby. Jazz complied, quickly holding it back against his chassis, and it quieted down slightly when he did so.
"Found 'im 'ere lyin' with the femme over there," explained Jazz, nodding to a small framed bot fallen on her side, an arm still bent where she had been holding the sparkling. "Decepticons must've not seem 'im, or simply left 'im 'ere t' die," Jazz guessed, making a small rocking motion - however much awkwardly, considering that he most likely had never held a Sparkling before in his life - when the Sparkling began whimpering a little more than it had before.
"A-a sparkling?" Ironhide finally managed to get out, stepping out to get a better look at the small being Jazz tried to calm. "'Ah couldn't see them 'cons leavin' a little thing like that 'ere t' die, Jazz. If anythin', they'd take the little guy with 'im, right?"
"On the contrary," Optimus spoke, stepping forward as well as Ratchet and Ironhide moved aside for him to take a look at the sparkling as well. "Decepticons would probably care less in trying to care for a sparkling; it's hard enough for us to care for such a young being, and they would not have the compactiy to handle one, either."
Jazz nearly wanted to gape when Optimus began talking, however decided to keep his mouth shut; it was not what he was saying, of course, but the fact that the little mechling in his arms had stopped whimpering and wiggling altogether when he heard the Prime's voice, turning his helm slightly to try to see where it had came from. It was as if it mistook the Prime for something else; then again, Jazz knew that Optimus Prime could quiet a room in an instant if he really wanted to shout or raise his voice; his own looming frame usually seemed enough to frighten anyone who did not know of him or never heard of him. Of course, Prime never used his "abilities" for anything "bad."
"Well, we can't leave it here to die, either, Prime," said Mirage cautiously.
And everyone in the broken home, although none would admit, agreed with the ninja with their silence; it would have been wrong to leave such a small Sparkling alone there with no one to take care of it and eventually die. And the Decepticons, if they ever chose to come back and do a sweep for any injured Autobot survivors in the town, they would most likely make his death swift if they chose not to try and take it in to make it a part of their army. Both terrible choices in the end.
"But what can we do with it?" Ironhide finally asked. "Ah mean, th' Youth Sector was blown up not three vorns ago, an' ther's no femmes around alive tha' we know 'bout t' take care ah've 'im." That's when Prime got the look.
The look wasn't usually that bad; it meant he got an idea, and a usually good one at that. But that look could sometimes mean bad ideas, too; not in the large that it hurt the Autobot cause, but enough to make one stop and wonder if Optimus really should be given those choices in the first place. He had a big spark, to put it plain and simple; especially when it came to those of the innocent. And the sparkling that Jazz held close to his chassis was no exception.
"Well, until we can find somewhere to place him," started Optimus, taking another good look at the small creature in Jazz's arms, "that we should take him in."
"Are you crazy?" Prowl intervened, obviously just as surprised at the Prime's choice as anyone else would have been; minus Mirage, who seemed happy at the idea, and Jazz, who rocked the sparkling silently in his arms with a small smile on his face. "Optimus, we cannot keep a Sparkling aboard the Ark," Prowl stated, taking a step forward towards the Prime to show that he was serious. "We do not have any knowledge of taking care of a sparkling, plus the fact that we are all on busy schedules. And that fact that-!"
"Primus, Prowler, an' ah' thought ya'd be all for havin' a lil'n," Jazz cut off, a mischievous smile on his face. The cop car merely gave the silver mech a stern look, however Jazz again cut him off, holding up the Sparkling for the SIC to see. "Aw, c'mon, Prowler! 'Ow can ya deny ah face like this?" Jazz practically whined as he held the mechling up. Prowl made a face, looking like he was trying to hold another back. And honestly, with the sight that Jazz held up, who wouldn't?
The Sparkling must have been close to recharge before he was suddenly held up, because his optics were held between tiredness and confusion as he looked around the room, trying to take everything in. He was small enough to be newly sparked, or just small in general; one of Jazz's servos could have easily wrapped itself three-fourths of the Sparkling's body. The small being clicked slightly as he dozed in and out of recharge, obviously not trusting the larger beings around it. One had to admit, however, that it was quite adorable. Optimus was right as well; if they couldn't find somewhere to place it, what better place to keep it until then than with the Autobots?
"It's settled then," Optimus said, much to a few of the other bot's displeasure. "We'll take the Sparkling in until we can find him a permanent place to stay." The silence was enough of an agreement for the Autobot leader, so then spoke, "Alright, lets roll out. I have no doubt that some Decepticon scouts will come back soon enough to seek out any injured survivors; not that they will find any, but it's better safe then sorry that we leave now before they come."
There was a murmur of agreement, and swiftly the team exited the building and made their way back to the Ark, Jazz holding the Sparkling closely to his chassis as it solemnly fell asleep. None of them realized that Optimus would soon be proved wrong when he said that they would soon find a permanente place to stay for the Sparkling that didn't involve staying at the Ark; it would have a permanente place to stay, of course; it just wouldn't involve leaving the Ark for a long, long, time.