A/N: Just to give you a heads up, tissues may or may not be required. Depends you I guess. This chapter is mostly flash-back, but they are important to the story nonetheless.
R&R please.
Jazz surveryed the disk in front of him, eyeing it with curiousity and apprehension. He'd been in possession of it for nearly a cycle, and he had yet to slip it into the computer and watch the contents. He already knew what they were, and he dreaded seeing the events for himself. After some convincing, Prowl had allowed Ratchet access to his memory files and to download copies of his memories, more specifically the ones having to do with Bumblebee and the sparkling. The news of unknown sparkling had shocked the medic to his core, but he performed his task like a professional and let Prowl leave for his room afterwards to meditate and rest.
True to his word, Prowl had been making a conscious effort to get back on his pedes again. It had started off with removing the pictures of Bumblebee off his wall as it wasn't necessarily healthy for him to keep them up anymore. The Elite ninja had considered taking them down himself while he'd been cleaning Prowl's room of the spilled energon, but he'd refrained himself from doing so. Part of Prowl's recovery was learning how to handle Bumblebee's deactivation and taking down the pictures had been a test to see if he could truly accept that his bondmate was gone. It was something he had to do on his own, and Jazz could only offer the support he needed by being there.
It had been difficult, yes, but after a few, long cycles, only a select few pictures remained up while the rest went into a specially designed datapad that functioned much like a human photo album. Prowl looked at it once in awhile, with Jazz nearby just in case, and the white mech had been relieved to see the sorrowful frown quirk up into a small smile as he relived whatever memory it was with fondness. The smile would disappear after an astrosecond or two, but it had still been there where before it had never exsisted.
The next step had been trying to fall back into the normal routine, to actually hang around the mechs he'd once-and stil did-considered friends. Of course, they'd been confused as to his seemingly sudden change in behavior, but after a few solar cycles, they been began to realize that on some level, they'd gotten their friend back, and that was good enough for them. It was then Ratchet had chosen to drag Prime into his office and explain what had happened three weeks ago. The conversation hadn't gone well.
"Prowl tried self-termination, and you didn't tell us?"
"We had our reasons, kid. It was for..."
"Our own good? How is it good for us that our teammate tried to kill himself, and we weren't informed? Do you have any idea how worried we've been?" Ratchet huffed, slamming his servos down on his desk to silence the young Prime.
"Would you stop thinking about yourself? That's precisely why we didn't tell you. You would've gone off on a mentally and emotionally unstable mech in your concern and things would've been worse than they already were. We didn't tell you not for your own good but for Prowl's." Ratchet choose not to mention the sparkling Bumblebee had been carrying when he'd gone offline. He didn't know how Prime would take the news, and he didn't want to create another problem. He'd dismissed Optimus with a medic's order not to bring up Prowl's suicide attempt in public or he would end up with a wrench up his exhaust and some broken leg struts.
Sighing, Jazz looked at the disk again, mulling over the last two weeks. While Prowl had made a decent start on the road to recovery, he was still reluctant to talk about the day he discovered he would be a father and the day it all slipped away from him. Before they could talk about the emotional aspects of it and hopefully draw out the poison it was causing, Jazz had to know the details. Prowl may have responded better to him than Ratchet (resulting in Jazz taking over Prowl's therapy sessions), but he just could not even begin to recall those events without feeling that horrible spark-break again. He and Ratchet had decided it would be best if they viewed the memories themselves and give Prowl some time to prepare for the questions afterwards.
Knowing he couldn't stall any longer, Jazz popped the disk into his personal computer and opened the correct files. The memory began to play itself out like a home movie, all from Prowl's perspective of course, and the white cyberninja payed close attention to the event folding out before him.
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The hallway and doors passed by quickly. Prowl's stride was quick, heading for his room.
Jazz payed close attention to the specific notes scrolling upwards on the left side of the screen, noticing that Prowl's quickened pace was due to having felt distress across his and Bumblebee's bond.
He arrived at his door and opened it, quickly and silently, shutting it in the same way once he was in. Bumblebee sat in the chair by his desk, back to him. He was shaking and staring at something he was holding in his servo. Curious, Prowl snuck over and looked over the young mech's shoulder to see what he had. It was a little square device, the wire from the bottom connected to the medical access port in the side of Bumblebee's chassis.
Jazz recognized the device immediately and realized that the scout must've snuck into Ratchet's medbay to get one.
With the text written in standard Cybertronian glyphs, the digital display on the screen showed certain changes in the mech's systems along with one word at the bottom to answer the question Bumblebee must have been asking himself for at least half an orn: POSITIVE. Prowl's optics widened, and he placed one servo on the yellow shoulder.
"Is that what I think it is?" His voice was at once surprised, pleased, and disbelieving. Slowly, Bumblebee turned to him, looking as though he would cry any minute if Cybertronians could leak in the same way as humans.
"I...I'm carrying, Prowl." It was a whispered confession, the scout's voice tentative and uncertain. Prowl tilted his head to the side, confused. The way he'd said it sounded as though he didn't think it was possible. That or he didn't want it.
"You don't sound happy about it." Prowl stated as gently as he could. That broke the dam. Suddenly, Bumblebee was in his arms, faceplate buried in his chassis while he clicked in distress. Prowl didn't know exactly what to do so he just wrapped his arms around the minibot, rubbing his back and waiting.
"I'm scared! I'm so scared, Prowl," Hiccups and whimpers followed, but Prowl didn't answer though he was thoroughly confused. What did Bumblebee have to be scared of by carrying? Sure, as a first-time carrier, he would be nervous and more than likely a little frightened by the idea, but Prowl would've thought he would be happy to have a sparkling with him. "Ho-how are we supposed to raise a...a sparkling in the middle of a war? It could be months or even stellar cycles before it's over, and if the Decepticons find out, who knows what they'll do with it," Bumblebee paused, shivering. When he spoke again, he was whimpering the words, "How can we expect to keep it safe?"
Jazz felt his spark-wrench for the yellow scout. His fears were-had been-completely understandable.
Relief flooded Prowl's processor. Bumblebee did want the sparkling; he was just worrying himself over hypotheticals. Though Prowl did see the sense in those worries. The Decepticons were low enough to try anything to win a battle, even kidnapping and hurting a sparkling. At least, one not of Decepticon origins.
"We're it's creators, Bumblebee. It's parents. All it and the Cons would ever need to know is that we would do anything and everything to keep it safe. Hush. You're worrying yourself over nothing." Bumblebee's cries lessened, and he eventually looked up at his bondmate. There was a reflection of Prowl's reassuring smile in those big blue optics. Bumblebee vented a sigh, sniffling, and nuzzled into the black and gold chassis.
"I'm sorry. I was just...It's a little overwhleming, ya know?" Prowl chuckled and pecked Bee on the little black arrow on his helm.
"I know," Prowl said, patting Bumblebee's back and letting his engine rumble softly, "It is a new life that is, and will be, completely dependant upon us, but we will care for it and give it everything that we never had. I will settle for nothing less it's complete happiness, and I'm sure it will grow to be a fine mech or femme." This seemed to put Bumblebee's anxiety and worries with carrying to rest, and he snuggled close to the taller mech.
"Thanks, ninjabot."
"Anytime. Now, we need to think about telling the others soon and start preparing for the sparkling. I think I finally know just what to do with your old room." Bumblebee smiled and leaned up to kiss Prowl. It was the last image the memory played before going black as Prowl's optics shuttered then the vid cut-off.
Jazz didn't know whether to click or to smile, the memory touching him to his spark. He'd known about Prowl bonding with the yellow mech. Being one of his closest friends, Jazz had had the privilege of knowing before the rest of Optimus's little team by a transmission Prowl sent to him that had simply read We're bonded. However, it had been after the last time Sentinel had visited Earth, and Jazz hadn't gotten to see just how Prowl and Bumblebee acted together. That last visit with Sentinel had been the last time he'd seen the yellow hellion before having to watch his funeral on Cybertron. Now, he knew that they had still teased each other, but there had been an underlying tone of affection that was near impossible to miss even in vid-files.
Curious, he checked the date of the file and was torn to see that it had been just days before Sari's upgrade. The Elite guard didn't know if he could watch the other file, knowing full well that he would viewing Prowl's last memory of his bondmate, seeing Bumblebee die in his arms, his spark fading away. With a churn of his tanks, Jazz also realized that before he would see Bumblebee go offline, he would have to watch that final conversation between them with the knowledge that the sparkling would go before its carrier, and that both mechs would feel that barely formed bond break and wither away.
Steeling himself for what was sure to be the most spark-breaking breem of his lifestream, Jazz opened the second memory file and let it play.
When Prowl's visor flickered online, Bulkhead's horrified faceplates loomed in his vision, but he wasn't looking at the cyberninja. With a grunt, Prowl managed to sit up, every cable and hydraulic wire in his body sore from the impact of the backlash Sari had unintentionally thrown at him, and looked forward. His ventilations hitched and stopped.
Bumblebee was standing in front of Sari, but neither mech nor girl moved, the red-head's face frozen with guilt and disbelief. The yellow mech's frame quaked as he made a tremendous effort to stay on his pedes. He shouldn't have even been out there in the middle of a fight, even if it was one to save his best friend. Lodged deep in his chassis, no doubt piercing his spark, one of Sari's newfound cyber-blades pulsated with a building energy charge.
Bumblebee swayed forward just little before the energy charge was released in a blast that sent the yellow mech reeling back, hitting the concrete and rolling, coming to rest half on his side, half on his front. Smoke rose from the hole blown into his chassis, his spark just barely visible and struggling to stay pulsing. Energon and oil poured from the wound onto the road, forming a large, ominous puddle beneath him.
Jazz couldn't keep up with the multitude of Cybertronian glyphs running up the side of the screen, reporting Prowl's thoughts and emotions relating to events of the current file being viewed. 'Oh please, Primus, no...' was the only thought that seemed to be consistently repeating itself. For a few kliks, everything was a blur, but Jazz knew it to be the time space in which Prowl had retrieved the key from a still out-of-control Sari in hopes that it could save his bondmate and sparkling. He'd been horrified to learn that thing had been rendered useless, drained of its power by the upgrade. Ratchet performed what repairs he could and then he was gone to stop Sari from destroying Detriot. The file picked back up once more, and Jazz drew in a deep cycle of air as he heard Bumblebee's weak voice call out.
Kneeling to the ground, Prowl gathered Bee into his arms, cradling the little mech close and pressing the heel of his palm to the injury, trying in vain to staunch the bleeding. Bumblebee's ventilations were shallow and ragged, energon having likely flooded into his intake. His spark pulsing erractically, Prowl gently eased open the beetle's spark-chamber and keened in horror. A deep, dark blue rip had formed where Sari's blade had pierced his spark, its presence disrupting his spark's normal energy current and frequency to the point that the blue orb was beginning to go transparent, a sign of weakness and imminent spark failure. It was only a matter of time before Bumblebee's spark eventually gave up and flared out.
"Bumblebee, say something. Anything. Please," Prowl's voice wavered, the black mech trying to keep from breaking down then and there. He was holding on to the dwindling hope that Ratchet could fix this once Sari was under control. There was silence for three, long astroseconds before Bumblebee stirred again, coughing up the energon that had built up in his intake. Dull blue optics stared up at him, barely masking the pain he was no doubt in. Where was the bright baby-blue color he fell for?
"H-hey, ninjabot," With every intake, more energon flowed from the corners of Bee's mouth. Prowl cupped the scout's cheek and wiped away the life-fluid with his thumb, only for more to trickle out down to his chin and drip onto chassis.
"Hey," Prowl murmured, low and strained, trying to conceal his growing panic with the situation, "Listen, Bee. Can you do that? You can't give up, alright? Just hang on until we get back to base. Ratchet can fix you," Bumblebee shook his helm weakly, trying to quiet his bondmate, but Prowl would not hear it. When Prowl spoke again, his voice actually broke, "We're going to have a family soon, Bee. Please...hang on for the sparkling."
Servos shaking, Bumblebee grabbed one of Prowl's hands and placed it flat over his spark-chamber, optics half-shuttered while he stared at Prowl in grief, "Prowl, the sparkling's gone. The blast...It didn't make it. C-can't you feel that?"
This time, Jazz paused the vid, taking a moment to even out his intakes as he read carefully through the text displayed on the side of the screen. Prowl had tried to feel his sparkling's spark, but it was no longer there, just as Bumblebee had claimed. It was too young to have survived something like that. The Elite guard doubted that the sparkling had even made it past being stabbed. Bumblebee must've been in so much pain by that point though that he might not have realized the sparkling was gone until after the blast knocked him backwards.
For a moment, Jazz allowed himself to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Bumblebee's death had more to do with the sparkling's termination. It had been a part of him, a part of his spark, and it had died so suddenly and so violently that maybe Bumblebee's systems couldn't take the sudden disruption with his spark. He also knew that while Bumblebee hadn't wanted to die, the scout had known there was no way to avoid it and decided to follow his sparkling in peace, trying to give Prowl some semblance of that before he left.
Jazz didn't know if he could finish watching, but he had to. He had to know. Forcing himself to click the button, he let the vid continue playing.
"Primus, no..." Prowl vented a shaky sigh, turning his attention back to his bondmate. He cradled Bee closer and gently rocked him, more for his own comfort than anything. "I-it'll be alright. We'll have another chance. Just stay online, Bumblebee."
"Prowl, stop," For moment, Bumblebee's voice came through stronger than he would've thought possible, but it caught Prowl's attention, the cyberninja quieting his desperate pleas. Bumblebee coughed again before he began speaking, that weak voice back in place, "I had...a wonderful life, and you know it. You, Bulkhead...Prime, Ratchet, and Sari have been the best friends I've ever had. I couldn't have asked for better friends." Prowl bit his glossa to keep from interrupting. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to hear his bondmate's last words. He wasn't ready to hear them.
"You know, when I first realized I had a crush you, it scared me out of my processor. Mainly because I didn't know if you felt the same or if you'd reject me. Can believe how happy I was when you said it first? What a relief that was." The beetle flashed him a tiny smile at the end of his sentence. At that, Prowl actually cracked a small smile. He remembered that day, remembered Bumblebee's look of utter relief and happiness when he actually admitted that he loved the minibot first. It had been one of the best days of his life stream.
Bumblebee continued speaking, his voice getting weaker with every other word, "The day we bonded was the first time in a long time I'd felt truly happy. You...you gave me a reason to want to be a better mech. I know I didn't change much, but it was still better than nothing. No one else will ever mean more than you." Before Prowl had a chance to reply, Bumblebee leaned up and kissed him one last time. They didn't keep the kiss long though Prowl made sure to put everything he didn't have time to say into it, a barely audible click slipping past his lips when they broke.
Optics flickering, Bumblebee smiled at him and whispered, "I'll wait for you."
He was gone after that. Bumblebee's armour faded from the bright yellow he was known for to the dark gray that was death in Cybertronians. Jazz had turned away from the screen, unable to bare watching anymore though he could still hear Prowl's desperate, spark-broken voice as he pleaded with his deactivated bondmate to come back to him. Before the file cut-off, Jazz heard Prowl whisper to whatever spirit happened to be listening at the moment.
"Don't leave me, please. I don't want to be alone again..."
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When Jazz's heavy pede-falls reached his audios, Prowl slowly forced himself out of his meditation. For once, he'd managed to keep his processor from falling back into the turmoil that was left behind from Bumblebee's deactivation, and it allowed him to think clearly on what he knew Jazz was watching and hopefully brace himself for the next therapy session he knew was coming.
In reality, he was trying to convince himself that he was ready to face this after so many months spent grieving over it, but when his door opened to reveal Jazz standing unusually still (even for a cyberninja) and his intakes wavering which proved he'd been upset by what he'd seen, Prowl's resolve crumbled. Jazz stepped hesitantly into the room, the black and white shifting from pede to pede, unsure where to begin. To his relief, Prowl spoke first, his smooth tone doing little to hide his emotion.
"Now you understand." Venting a sigh, the Elite guard nodded his helm even though Prowl hadn't actually asked him a question. It had been a statement.
"Yeah, I get ya now. Seeing it how you saw it, it'd be kinda hard not to," Rubbing the back of his helm, Jazz tried to choose his next words carefully but didn't see any way around the issue now, "Living with that day after day, I can see why you'd be so..."
"Don't," The sudden and stern command stopped Jazz in his tracks. Purposefully looking away from him, Prowl's servo was held out in front of in the common gesture for 'stop'. The older mech waited patiently while Prowl gathered his thoughts, his arm lowering back down to his side after a few nanokliks, "Try to understand, Jazz. I thought I could deal with this now, but I can't. Knowing you would see it how I saw it didn't make it any easier," The motorcyclist lifted his faceplates to meet Jazz's concerned gaze.
When Prowl had started his speech, there had been a spark of fear, the fear that had driven Jazz to get Prowl to the medbay that night weeks ago. Rather than speaking out like he so wanted to, his better instincts told him to hear Prowl out, "Give me a few solar cycles to get my processor straight again. I'll come to you when I'm ready." As if to reassure his friend, Prowl gave Jazz a rare smile that relaxed the Elite ninja. Nodding his understanding, Jazz turned to leave, throwing Prowl a glance over his shoulder.
"I dig ya, and I'll keep ya to that promise" There was a nod of agreement shared between them that served as Jazz's cue to leave. Shutting Prowl's door behind him, he only managed to walk a few yards before leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor. He didn't think he'd ever be so emotionally and physically exhausted just from watching a vid file, but it had been Prowl's memory of the day his bondmate and sparkling were terminated. He should've expected it but expecting it wouldn't have made any easier to watch. He needed a distraction.
Flipping through the stations in his internal radio, Jazz searched for something to take his processor off of the new information, and the burden that had come with it. He settled on some alternative channel that he couldn't remember the name of, but it was playing a song he'd grown to enjoy while staying on Earth, something called 'Hey Soul Sister' by a band called Train. Sitting slumped against the hallway wall, Jazz lazily tapped one pede along to the beat while he mouth the lyrics to himself, the laid-back rhythm of the song helping him to forget the problems surrounding him for the moment.
