Title: Promises
Rating: G
Warnings: a little sad :(
Universe: 2007 movie
Summary: Not even death can stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.
Notes: reviews make for a happy authress!


In that place between the shutting down of systems and recharge, he met him.

Slender arm wrapping about his middle, he shuttered his optics as he heard his lover croon into his audio receptor, "Hiya, Prowler."

"Hello, Jazz."

The little saboteur wriggled on the berth to get closer to his mate. "I miss ya, y'know."

"I miss you too, Jazzy."

The smaller mech let out a short bark of laughter. "Leave to you to wait till I'm good 'n dead 'fore y'll use my nickname out loud."

Prowl didn't respond, simply enjoyed the warmth of his mate pressed up against his back, the feel of his clever hands lightly caressing his doorwings, the sound of his sweet voice in his audios.

"It hurts, Jazzy."

A soft, sad sigh through his vents. "I know, Prowl. Believe me, I know."

He wanted to turn around, to look his sweet lover in the optics, but he didn't dare, fearing any movement would break the magic and, once again, his Jazz would be taken away. He shuttered his optics, repressing a shudder of both apprehension and pleasure, as Jazz's hands had moving to the exposed wiring in his hip. Primus, how he missed him.

"Why did you have to leave me, Jazzy?"

The little mech sighed again. "Wasn't really the plan."

"You promised." There was a hint of a whine to his words.

"I did," Jazz agreed sadly.

"You promised me you would be here, waiting." His spark gave a painful clench at the thought of what it almost had, but now would never know. "You promised me forever."

"I know," Jazz said, voice hardly more than a whisper, lip components pressed up next to his lover's audio. "I know I did… and we'll have it."

A hand moved up to Prowl's faceplates, a single digit wiping away tears he was not aware had fallen. He turned his head into the hand, pressing a kiss against it. Jazz stroked his cheek once more before pulling away.

"Recharge, now," he said soothingly, leaning over to kiss the bright red chevron adorning Prowl's helm. "Recharge. I promise… everything will be better in the morning."

And, with a wave of calm settling over him, blanketing him in a warmth to replace that of his vanishing lover's, recharge he did.

Come morning, no one could give a reason for his passing. There was just no medical term for a broken spark.