Rust or Gold

Chapter Two

"Give it back!"

"Come and get it cry-baby!"

"I said give it back!"

Jazz was startled by the light doze of recharge from all the noise. He looked around, yet the room was still empty. But the shouting didn't stop and he realized it was coming from outside. Jazz made his way to the window, climbing on a chair and grasped the cold bars, peering in the back court yard of the house, where a small energon river passed through. He frowned at what he saw.

There was a crowd of younglings down there, all of them surrounding a well known pair - Broka and Prowl. And Prowl looked far from happy, as he tried to get something back from the other youngling. Jazz had seen enough; he jumped from the chair and raced down the hallways, intend on reaching Prowl as fast as possible.

Outside nothing much had changed:

"Give it back or—"

"Or what?" A bigger youngling, named Broka lifted the half full cube of energon way up out of Prowl's reach. The little Praxian's wings were quivering up and down, not clear whether they wanted to show the child's sadness at being teased or the unnatural anger he felt behind that fact.

"C'mon cry-baby! Come and get—" Broka's taunt was cut short as a rock collided hard to his helm with surprising accuracy.

"Now that ain't nice Broka. Ya shouldn't tease the young." Jazz smirked, causally throwing another rock in his hand, ready to attack again if needed. Inside he was relieved that he had come in time, before worse had happened.

"Jazz—" Prowl turned to look worriedly at his friend that was even smaller than him! If those bullies caught him-!

"Trash!" Broke growled, sitting up and holding his dented helm, "I should rip that visor of yours out!"

Jazz didn't seem too worried by the brutal threat: "You'll have to catch me first. And we all know ya can't. Didn't work out last time." He walked next to Prowl, brushing discreetly a sensor wing in their own personal greeting (Jazz even came up with a little dance routine that Prowl didn't want any part of.)

"You'll pay for this." The youngling growled. "The two of you won't see energon for orns because of this!"

Prowl's wings drooped even more as worry crept in his spark. And he would've stepped behind Jazz in reflex to shield himself, but he didn't need to. The smaller youngling, that barely reached Prowl's shoulders, stepped before Prowl, clearly unintimidated. With a cool visor Jazz stared at his opponent. Then, words that didn't belong in the mouth of a youngling so young echoed across the quiet grounds:

"You're such an idiot, Broka," Jazz said calmly, "Isn't the abuse we get every orn enough, that you have to seek out more?" He felt someone grasp his left hand and looked down, seeing Prowl's white hand over his black one. Jazz squeezed back. "Give him back the energon. You've had your fun for the orn."

"Jazz, it's okay." Prowl whispered in his audio, "Please, I don't want to get you in trouble…"

"Hush." Jazz didn't look away from Broka, "So?"

Broka glared as more younglings that had seen the commotion came to the back yard. He gazed back at the river, where a small bridge stood with a beautiful railing that the mistress of the house had custom-made. It was thin and uneven.

"I'll give it back if you can go to the other side of the river, walking on the railing, using only your pedes."

As expected, murmurs started in the small crowd of younglings and sparklings around them. It was forbidden to walk to the other side. They all knew it. Which is why Broka made that challenge.

Prowl resigned himself to an orn without fuel, but the surprisingly strong grip of Jazz on his hand made him look down at his shorter companion in confusion.

"Is that all?" Jazz's visor glinted. It was that look that made him stand out from the other younglings. They were all dull and gray, defeated and exhausted, but Jazz… Jazz was bright and colorful and filled with life. And Prowl would be damned, if Jazz got hurt because of him!

"Jazz, no!" Prowl hissed in his audio, "It's not worth it."

"Don't worry Prowler, I can handle this!"

Prowl suddenly tugged harder, enough to make Jazz turn and they were face to face, "If you fall, you will drown." Prowl whispered so only Jazz could hear him, "And even if you make it to the other side, if you get caught, the punishment will be severe… Please, for half a cube of energon, it's not worth it!"

Younglings shouldn't say such things. They shouldn't have to decide if getting whipped is worth over a cube of energon. But there was no place for younglings here. Yes, they were in the frames of such, but the sparks that beat wildly with life in their small little chests were mature. They had grown up long before their time. They were adults, and perhaps, Jazz was the most adult of them all despite his carefree demeanor.

"I won't get caught!" Jazz tried to reassure him, "Trust me Prowler."

Prowl lowered his helm so that his little chevron rested on Jazz's forehead. "I trust you. It's them that I don't trust."

"It's goin' to be okay." Jazz whispered with a reassuring smile and Prowl briefly wondered where did he get the strength to smile.

"If your mushy moment is over, we're all waiting." Broka motioned at the bridge.

Helm high, Jazz walked next to the bully and stopped, "If Ah win, you will stop teasing Prowler." His optics narrowed, "Or else."

"Or else what?" Broka smirked.

Jazz shrugged, "That's for me to know and for you to find out." They entered in a stare-off, and the bigger bully suddenly felt uneasy at how calm the other youngling looked.

"Would you just do it already!"

Prowl's little wings were trembling in their nervousness for Jazz. He watched him gracefully climb up the railing and used his hands as leverage. He took a step forward. Then another. Slowly but surely, Jazz made his way. Prowl let a shaky breath. Jazz passed the middle. Hope kindled in his spark. Jazz would actually do it!

However it was short lived as a rock was thrown at Jazz. Luckily, the aim was off so it grazed his audio horn, making Jazz hiss in pain and waver dangerously. He turned back and yelled at Broka, "That's cheatin'!"

"You never said anything about rules!" The youngling yelled as another rock was thrown, this time hitting Jazz in the shoulder, nearly tipping him over. But before a third rock could be thrown, Broka found himself tackled to the ground.

Jazz could only blink in surprise along with the rest as Prowl, calm, sweet, Prowl growled and pinned the bigger frame of Broka. He looked up at Jazz and yelled, "Finish it!"

Smirking, Jazz nodded and resumed his walking.

However, Broka chose that moment to start wailing and yelling, wrestling Prowl. At the sudden increase of volume all of the other younglings scattered. It was never a good thing to get caught up in the middle of a brawl. And sure enough, disaster came.

"What the frag is going on here?!"

Jazz turned just in time to see a huge bulky guard mech lift Prowl from Broka and throw him away. A couple of meters away. Prowl cried out as he landed on his wings.

"Prowler!" Jazz yelled in worry.

"You!" The guard growled, noticing Jazz on the railing.

All of the commotion was too much for Jazz and the sudden below of the guard was enough to make Jazz loose his balance entirely. He fell with a splash in the river.

Panic. It was all Jazz could do. He felt the water sip into his ventilation system, felt how his engine started to choke. He wiggled, gasped for air that wasn't there. It was no use. He cried for help, voice silent and lost under all the water. And for a brief second, the treacherous thought of 'what's the point?' crossed his mind. He stopped struggling and felt himself sink.

What was the point? Existence was hell. There was nothing for him in this life. The world wouldn't miss one stupid youngling if he drowned this orn, would it? Yet, just as his vision was nearly blurred entirely, an image of a little Praxian appeared.

Prowl. He would leave Prowler all alone. He was all that Prowl had left. And… Prowl was all that Jazz had left as well.

Sudden vertigo stopped his train of thoughts. Jazz was above the water; someone was holding him by his ankle upside-down. A rather hard smack to his back had him cough and open his vents so that all of the water got expelled. He was still coughing when the grumbling guard plopped him like a sack of rocks next to Prowl.

Little trembling servos went to his shoulders as Prowl's worried gaze settled on him. Both of them looked at the same time back at the house, where the Lord's eldest and far most cruel creation emerged.

"A-Ah'm…sorry." Jazz said, his ventilations taking in the much needed air properly. He leaned heavily on Prowl and felt the other youngling pull him closer, wings spread behind them in an instinctive move to protect them.

"What will he do to us?" Prowl whispered. His fear was so obvious that Jazz wanted to cry and shield him from what's to come.

"Depends what mood he's in." Jazz whispered back and couldn't help but press even closer to Prowl, burying his helm in the crook of the other's neck, "Best case: we don't fuel for a couple of orns. Worst case…" Jazz didn't want to think of all the worst things they could do to them.

Prowl whimpered and Jazz couldn't help but echo it. No matter how mature they were at mind, they were younglings still. And nothing would change that.

Yet, the fact that they were younglings meant nothing in this house.

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and alerts! They make me grin so hard :D Also a big thank you to silberstreif who looked this over for me! ^^

TBC.