Many Shades of Black
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.
Summary: Jazz finds an Enforcer in the ruins of Praxus. Even though Enforcers are the lackeys of Megatron he stays with the mech so that he won't deactivate alone. Except the mech doesn't die.
Warning: M/M robot smut, war
Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl
Klik: One Minute, 1.2 minutes
Joor: One Hour, not giving it a specific length, suffice it to say that Cybertron does not share the same orbit or rotation as Earth, an hour, a day would be different lengths from ours
Mega-cycle: One Day, 93 hours/ joors
Orn: One Week, 13 mega-cycles
Quartex: One Month, 4 orns
Stellar Cycle: One Year, 7.5 quartexes
Vorn: Length of Sparklinghood and Younglinghood: 83 stellar cycles.
Jazz found himself unable to look away from Prowl's intense, though cloudy optics. The mech's gaze was intense, and Jazz wondered if Prowl himself was as intense. Prowl shifted slightly on the berth and moaned softly as his faceplates crunched up with an expression of pain.
"Easy, easy," Jazz soothed, and he rubbed Prowl's shoulder. "Doc Bot doesn't want you moving around. He disabled a lot of your sensors..."
"Coming online," Prowl groaned through clenched denta. "Logic computer... Onlining doorwings."
"Oh slag," Jazz swore. He called Ratchet over the comm.
"Ah," Prowl groaned and his whole body tensed. When he looked up at Jazz again his optics were no long clouded. It was as if there were no pain killers in his system.
"Look at me Prowler," Jazz said. "Doc Bot's going to be back in a klik. Just concentrate on my voice, 'kay? I met Smokey and Blue. They're here and they're okay. Not a scratch. Mech, you scared a few stellar cycles off of them."
"Not lying?" Prowl asked as he fought to keep his processor from surrendering to the growing pain flooding it from every system. Bluestreak and Smokescreen were functional?
"No," Jazz promised. "Just as soon as Doc Bot gets back here and makes you comfortable I'll bring them in to see you."
Coolant tears formed in Prowl's optics and Jazz reached to wipe away the first tears that fell. Poor mech. Jazz wished, plaintively, that he had some way to soothe Prowl but he was helpless to do more that wait for Ratchet. Thank Primus, Ratchet barrelled through the canvas door only a few kliks later. Knowing better than to get in Ratchet's way, Jazz stepped aside, hovering by Prowl's head, while Ratchet plugged into his patient and ran a diagnostic. Prowl's spark pulsed rapidly and his vents hissed and his chassis shuddered. Through his diagnostic cable, Ratchet was able to download a complex string of pain killing programs and physically rewrite the programming from Prowl's doorwings to his processor.
"Alright Prowl," Ratchet finally spoke. "I've rewritten a little of your code so your processor thinks you don't have doorwings. Don't know how long it will take for your logic computer to figure it out but I need you to tell someone when you get even twinges from them so I can rewrite it again. You were damaged extensively, especially your legs and doorwings as well as your back. The pain you were feeling was from all the new components I had to install when I rebuilt your limbs. I've uploaded several pain killing programming into your systems. Your battle computer won't be able to burn through them quite as quickly. I'll upload new ones every joor. Right now I'm uploading a program that will take you offline for a little longer. Let yourself recharge."
"Thank you," Prowl replied in a soft voice, no longer marred by pain. His optics offlined and their shutters pulled closed as Prowl's faceplates smoothed over as recharge claimed him.
"Slagging computer and processor," Ratchet swore as he unplugged from Prowl. "Some Pit spawn thought it was a good idea to install both an advanced logic processor and battle computer in that mech's processor and to run them through each other. That means that everything I do to make him comfortable, those systems will be fighting me because they aren't programmed to step off."
"His creators," Jazz said. "Smokescreen said something about that."
"Slaggers," Ratchet swore again. "I'd better not run out of programs or I won't be able to do anything to make him comfortable except put him in medical stasis."
"Poor mech," Jazz grimaced. He was beginning to understand the anger Smokescreen still had for his and Prowl's creators. "How long will he be out?"
"A few joors," Ratchet replied. "I need to hook him up to a machine that will upload the pain killers automatically. When I can get him to my clinic my berths will do that automatically but these portable berths aren't equipped with those advanced systems."
"I should report to Optimus," Jazz said and vented. "Haven't filed a report yet."
"He knows about Prowl," Ratchet informed Jazz. "And that you were to be on leave for the mega-cycle. Or have you forgotten that you donated 1/5 of your total energon volume to him?"
"I guess I should thank you 'cause otherwise I'd be really shirking my duties by not checking with the Boss Bot," Jazz said with a cheeky grin. "I'll be back in a few."
Ratchet followed Jazz out. Smokescreen and Bluestreak were waiting on the berth they had recharged on. Jazz gave both the mech and the youngling a reassuring smile before walking through the temporary triage. The space, though full, was mostly quiet, except for the quiet sobbing of too many Cybertronians. Jazz felt his spark contract. Damn Megatron to the Pit. It didn't take long for Jazz to find Optimus. Prime was not alone, he never was. Ironhide was standing with him as Optimus spoke with his second-in-command, a disillusioned old mech named Intrigue. Optimus turned from Intrigue. He had his battle mask in place, hiding his mouth.
"Sir," Jazz said, nodding his head in deference to his leader.
"How are you feeling, Jazz?" Optimus asked. Though his battle mask hid his mouth, it didn't hide his optics. Jazz could see the strain in them.
"Tired, sir," Jazz admitted. "But I'm still kicking."
"I haven't spoken with Smokescreen yet," Optimus said. "The youngling has him preoccupied."
"How does he seem to you?" Jazz asked, having not spoken with Smokescreen since he'd recharged.
"Like he wants to climb out of his plating," Optimus replied. "But the youngling is keeping him settled. Tell me, what do you know about that Enforcer?"
"Nothing, really," Jazz admitted. Intrigue's contemptuous snort raised Jazz's hackles but he let it slide. "But I do have an impression of him. He seems like a genuinely good mech. Smokescreen talked about him a bit and it doesn't sound like Prowl has any of the, uh Enforcer personality."
"Is the youngling his?" Optimus asked. Enforcers didn't generally have sparklings now. They functioned only for Megatron, not for families. The expression on Intrigue's faceplates was one of distrust.
"Sort of," Jazz replied. "Smokescreen said Prowl adopted Blue, Bluestreak from the streets."
"Probably to warm his berth," Intrigue grumbled with real venom. Jazz was unable to stop himself from glaring at his superior officer but he was able to stop himself from reaming Intrigue out.
"Let's not make assumptions about a mech we don't even know," Optimus chastised Intrigue with an even voice. "I'll speak to Prowl myself once Ratchet has him settled in his clinic in Iacon."
"Yes sir," Jazz replied. Intrigue made snap judgements of people, and held to them. It didn't matter what type of mech Prowl proved to be, Intrigue would never see him as anything other than scum. Optimus's bodyguard fell under the same sort of category. He had been a common foot soldier before Optimus had selected him personally to be his bodyguard. Intrigue would not forgive Ironhide's common ancestry. Ironhide kept his feelings of disdain for Intrigue to himself for the most part but Jazz and he had commiserated more than once. Jazz was as common as they came, without any social graces, Intrigue had hated him on sight when Optimus had named him head of Special Operations. Intrigue was focused on Optimus; Ironhide met Jazz's optics and rolled them.
"Anything I can do to help organize the survivors for transport to Iacon?" Jazz asked, pointedly ignoring Intrigue now.
"Ratchet has you off duty," Optimus replied. "And I am not inclined to step on his peds. If you could do me a small favour and keep an optic on Prowl, it would be appreciated."
"Of course, sir," Jazz replied and bowed his head to Optimus, taking this as a dismissal. Optimus was very astute at reading people. He knew where Jazz wanted to be, and was being kind enough to let Jazz be there.
To spare Prowl the pain that would no doubt occur in Transport, Ratchet placed him in medical stasis for the drive back to Iacon. Smokescreen and Jazz both drove close behind the medic for the entire journey. Bluestreak rode within Smokescreen, he was still too young to make such a journey under his own steam. He wasn't yet halfway through his younglinghood. The idea that younglings as young as Bluestreak had been targeted by the Decepticons turned the energon in Jazz's fuel processor bitter. Of course Prime's Autobots had heard rumours of these goings on and had seen evidence of it in Vos and Kaon but Jazz had never seen a youngling that had avoided it or a mech who had tried to intervene. To think that this mech was an Enforcer still blew Jazz's processor.
Ratchet's clinic was just outside of the centre of Iacon. Prime's palace, and the central head quarters of the Autobots sat in the city centre. Jazz's apartment was well away, on the fringes of the city. He didn't go to his own housing but insisted on staying at Ratchet's clinic with Smokescreen and Bluestreak. There was no reason for him to remain there; he reasoned that he was all the closer to Optimus and it saved him the long drive to the base. The truth was that he was not done hovering around Prowl; Jazz just didn't know enough about him yet, didn't know him well enough yet.
Smokescreen and Bluestreak had been with Prowl when he'd woken from stasis in Iacon. They had stayed with him as long as Ratchet would let them. The medic had chased them out two joors earlier, proclaiming that his patient needed to recharge. Both Smokescreen and his adopted nephew had gone immediately into the next treatment room and gone into recharge on the berth inside. Jazz stayed in the waiting room. He didn't feel right intruding on the family. But when Ratchet went into his office, announcing that he was going to get some recharge...
"If you aren't going to go home, lay down on one of the exam berths and recharge," Ratchet instructed.
"I will," Jazz promised. He waited until Ratchet entered his office before he snuck across the the waiting room and slipped into the Prowl's room. Prowl laid incredibly still on the berth a single cable ran from the side of the berth and connected to the port on the lower left edge of Prowl's chassis. A warming blanket covered him. With the continuing repairs his self-repair systems had to go through, it would be too much of a strain for Prowl's systems to keep him at an optimum temperature. Jazz approached slowly.
He still looked rough. The welds were still too fresh to be buffed smooth. Still, Prowl looked far better than he had when Jazz had first seen him. No part of Prowl was that dull, unhealthy shade of grey. Jazz studied the prone mech. It deeply unsettled Jazz that he was so drawn to this handsome stranger. Enforcers had been the enemies of his younglinghood. Though they had not been reprogramming younglings then, they had terrorized Jazz and his friends, detained them for any crime, even when they had not been involved. When Jazz had found employment at an oil bar, a vorn before he would upgrade to his adult frame, the Enforcers of his neighbourhood had done everything in their power to have him fired. Thankfully, the owner of the bar had had his own run ins with Enforcers and had kept Jazz on, even paying for his schooling. Jazz hadn't made it into the Academy, nor could his boss have afforded to send him there but the university of Polyhex was a perfectly good school and Jazz had excelled.
Jazz had never done anything with his education. Music had been the passion of his young life and he had joined a band during his time in university. More jobs were available singing than Jazz could find with his degree so he had put the certification away and made his life performing in bars and clubs. It hadn't been that there were no jobs in teaching literature or sports, rather Jazz's low class upbringing had stopped any schools from hiring him on. His accent hadn't deterred the clubs or bars and Jazz had been a rising star on the entertainment circuit. Megatron's lackeys had begun to terrorize the bars and clubs, trying to force recruits as Megatron first revolted. Jazz had been enraged and when his old boss's bar had been destroyed, because the mech wouldn't tolerate his customers being harassed and threatened, and the kindly mech murdered, Jazz had enlisted with the Autobots. His rough start had taught him how to sneak and fight, and his university education had honed his athleticism. The Autobots had taught him to shoot and how to work with explosives and Jazz had become a saboteur almost overnight. He excelled at it. Much like he had singing, something Jazz had given up after the death of his mentor.
"You're Jazz," Prowl's comment broke Jazz from his reverie.
"Yeah, I am," Jazz replied. His spark fluttered. The sensation caught him off guard. Prowl's voice was absolutely musical.
"Thank you for finding me," Prowl said. "When I felt my spark trying to rejoin the Allspark, it was comforting to not be alone."
"No one should deactivate alone," Jazz replied.
"Not even an Enforcer?" Prowl asked. His faceplates were so smooth, expressionless. This must have been what Smokescreen meant by Prowl not wearing his spark on his faceplates. But Prowl had a spark, Jazz had felt it, and he had seen Prowl without this mask of neutrality.
"No," Jazz replied sincerely. "Have to say you're unlike any Enforcer I've ever met."
"There were others with morals like me," Prowl commented. "But when they were discovered, they were all reprogrammed."
"But you fooled them," Jazz noted. "Glad you did or Bluestreak wouldn't be here."
"I should have sent the other younglings on my patrol to another city," Prowl said. He shuttered his optics and kept his mouth straight. His whole frame was stiff. Jazz wondered if Prowl held his doorwings that straight as well. Prowl spoke again. "But none of the scenarios my battle computer plotted out contained such at actions from the Decepticons."
"Hey, no one could have predicted that," Jazz reassured Prowl. "We, the Autobots I mean, have more intel on the 'Cons than you could have and the first clue we had that the 'Cons were up to something was when they started massing outside the city."
"I am unaccustomed to being taken by surprise," Prowl confessed. "You lied out in the street. You thought my family was deactivated in the rubble but you didn't want me to suffer with that as I deactivated."
"You're right," Jazz admitted. "Don't regret it, though."
"I suppose not," Prowl replied.
"Did you know Smokescreen was a 'Bot?" Jazz asked, changing the conversation to a subject he hoped was less painful to Prowl.
"No," Prowl replied. "Not until he confessed back in that camp."
"Ouch," Jazz winced. "Big secret there."
"Our family goes orns, sometimes meta-cycles without speaking," Prowl explained. "And Smokescreen tends to keep secret anything he does that he believes will worry me."
"Are you mad?" Jazz asked.
"No," Prowl replied. "I'm proud of him. He closed his practice so he could help the cause."
"He's proud of you too," Jazz said. "He wasn't angry when I talked to him. He was praising you for sticking on with the Enforcers to protect people from the others."
"We fought about it," Prowl replied, frowning just slightly. "In the past. He accused me of being stubborn."
"I bet you are," Jazz teased gently. "But he's proud of you."
"Thank you," Prowl said. "Blue likes you. But then he likes most mechs."
"I'm touched," Jazz chuckled. "I've kept you up long enough, Prowler. I can see you want to recharge."
"Need more than want," Prowl corrected. "And my designation is Prowl."
"I know," Jazz replied, smiling broadly. "But I've nicknamed you Prowler."
Prowl stared up at the ceiling above his berth as Jazz left him alone. The only sound was the faint purr of the berth as it recorded his vital signs. His processor was regaining some clarity and he felt a faint twinge of pain from the surface of his doorwings. A change of pitch of the hum told Prowl that the berth would be uploading to painkilling programs into his systems momentarily. Prowl's firewalls questioned whether the programs were safe or not and Prowl approved them. It would be a few kliks before the new programs would replace the old and Prowl experienced a moment of clarity. The programs didn't just numb his body, they addled his processor.
Why had he been so open with a total stranger. The medical programs loosened his glossa and seemed to erase his self restraint. Prowl was never that free with his thoughts as he had been with Jazz. Smokescreeen didn't manage to drag such confessions from him. It was unsettling what an affect Jazz had on him. He hadn't said anything incriminating, though there wasn't anything really incriminating about him, not to the Autobots anyway. Still, Prowl had made himself vulnerable to Jazz and the thought was discomforting.
There was nothing to be done about it now. Prowl felt the fog return and his processor warned him that recharge was imminent. He shuttered his optics and vented softly. Jazz was a strange mech. Even addled his battle computer warned him that the probability of Jazz visiting him again was no less than 90-10 in favour of another visit. It was not in Prowl, even unsettled as he was, to be sorry for the prospect.
End Chapter 2
A/N I cannot begin to describe how surprised and pleased I was by the reaction to this fic. I am absolutely blown away, and I hope I don't disappoint.
The next update will be in another week.
I'm offering a fic for art exchange, if anyone is interested. You draw art (not necessarily connected to any fic or anything, but art for Transformers and for one of the following couples, Jazz/Prowl, Optimus/Ironhide, Blaster/Soundwave, Mirage/Cliffjumper, Twins/Ratchet, Skywarp/Thundercracker/Hound, Red Alert/ Inferno, Trailbreaker/Wheeljack, and I write you one shot for the couple of your choosing. There are some couples I am really not into but I would attempt to write anything you'd like for this exchange.
If interested, drop me a line.
