The magnets in his hands hummed quietly in the silent room. Prowl's drowsy optics fought to focus on the cost estimates for the damage to C and D decks. Lying on his chest, his wings draping over the sides of the berth like loose blankets, he made a soft sound when Jazz's hands stroked over a lower joint. Curled under one of his wings and half in recharge himself Jazz let his hands linger on the joint until Prowl's wing relaxed even more.
Jazz drifted off for a few breems until Prowl's form stiffened slightly. His wings stretched and folded against his back with their usual precision. "I need to speak with Red Alert," Prowl said softly, stretching his back like a cybercat. He made a soft sound of pain when the plates clicked. Jazz checked his chronometer.
"Meet you in the dispensary?" Jazz murmured not entirely sure he wanted to leave Prowl's comfortable berth. But he probably needed to make an appearance before everyone started to worry. In the two orns since the explosion he'd only crept out a handful of times. Most of that was Ratchet's threat to weld him to a berth or lock him in the isolation unit in med bay if he didn't relax and let his wounds heal.
Prowl's wing fanned out over him again. "If you can find the strength to get up," he teased gently. A smile quirked the corner of Jazz's mouth but before he could deliver a snappy comeback he yawned. Prowl folded his wing back and got off the berth. The absence of his warm body brought the cold back and Jazz made sure he whined loud enough for Prowl to hear. The Praxian flared and folded his wings sending a rush of cool air over Jazz's frame. "I'll see you in the dispensary." Jazz huffed and made a point of pulling the covers over his frame.
He waited a breem after the door closed before stretching and rolling/falling off the berth. Stretching his legs he forced his body off the floor and tried to wake up a bit more before he had to tackle the halls.
Taking the long way and his time to the dispensary he said hello to every bot he saw, easy grin plastered on his faceplates. Blaster, probably cutting out of his shift early, sidled up next to him with a rough shoulder bump. "My mech, Hatchet put the fear of Primus in ya'?" Jazz's welds twinged in protest but he still flashed him a wide grin.
"He actually brought the welder last time," Jazz snickered. Another femme passing by snorted and another mech off shift joined them as they moseyed through the halls. Jazz fell into easy conversation, though if he'd had to give a summary he wasn't sure he could.
"Hey Jazz," Blaster said, "Ratchet clear you for a party?"
Jazz tilted his head while he pretended to think about it. A party was not on his agenda any time in the next septorn. "Nah ma' mech. He said I could leave the berth, didn't say I could dance on a table." Blaster's loud laugh vibrated against his sensor net but not in a painful way.
A private message from Prowl came through. Detouring to officer's lounge.
"My mechs, I'll find ya' later," Jazz said with a smile and wave dipping down another hall to swing up a deck to rendezvous with Prowl.
"Wheeljack coded twice," Ratchet said as Jazz stepped in the doorway.
Prowl sat across from Ratchet, the chair not meant for wings, meant he fanned them out behind him in graceful curves. "Ratchet, you still haven't submitted your remodel plans for the med bay. I need them before morning." Ratchet stared down at his high grade. Jazz could only guess how deep in it he was. Ratchet in the right mood, or wrong, could drink high grade like it was sparkling formula.
Ratchet's optics flickered bright blue before darkening to an angry navy. "Really, Prowl? That's what you're concerned with, the fragging remodel. Did you not just fragging hear me?"
"I did," Prowl replied without changing his tone. "And I am submitting the order for supplies tonight so that they will be at the dock waiting for us. But unless I have your plans I can't do that which means I will have to wait to submit the order and then we will be waiting on supplies to reach us. The sooner I have those plans, the sooner they can all return to your care and protection."
"Get out of my face you glitched drone," Ratchet snapped. Prowl sighed and rubbed his forehead as he stood. Jazz glared at Ratchet who went back to staring at his drink. Prowl's wing brushed his shoulder, a gentle push from the room. Jazz followed but anger set his face in a hard mask.
"Let it go, Jazz," Prowl said when they were away from the officer's lounge.
"No."
"Jazz."
"No, Prowl. This slag is past old, why the frag do you put up with this? The over-charged fragger, Blaster, Primus, even fragging Ironhide does it and you never say anything! These stupid—" Prowl put a hand over his mouth and pushed him into an empty room. He crossed his arms and paced the length of the quarters, fury making his core temperature rise a few degrees.
"Jazz," Prowl said softly.
"No. I'm not dropping it, I've been letting it go and dropping it for vorns and I'm not doing it anymore."
"What exactly to do you hope to accomplish by berating Ratchet while he's over-charged and miserable?" Prowl asked. That brought Jazz up short and he made an angry sound when he realized there was nothing to do there. Prowl closed the distance between them and let his wings relax on his back. "And what will happen if you get into an argument with Blaster?" Jazz growled but didn't answer. "I am not fond of my various nicknames," Prowl said softly. "But it isn't worth the trouble to lash out at everyone who uses them." Jazz vented the hot air in his system and rested his head on Prowl's shoulder.
"Fine," Jazz growled. "But Primus help me, if I hear one more tonight I'm hitting them. I don't care what you say or how much sense it makes. I don't care if it's Optimus. I'm hitting them, hard."
"If you hit Optimus you'll have to spend at least the night in the brig," Prowl said, gentle fingers stroked down his back strut easing out the tension.
"You think the brig can hold me?"
"It holds the twins." Jazz finally smiled and breathed in Prowl's warm scent, the spice of burning leaves under the subtle smell of warm metal and wires. The smooth strokes on his back became an embrace and he held the Praxian tightly, feeling the soft hum of his spark under his chest plates.
"Now," Prowl murmured after a few breems. "Can you keep up this charade of civility until we get back to my quarters?" Jazz smiled again and reluctantly let Prowl go. He could listen to his spark for the rest of the night and he was starting to get hungry.
Back in Prowl's quarters Jazz found a comfortable position with his head in Prowl's lap. Soft music pumped from his speakers while Prowl read, his fingers absently stroking Jazz's shoulder strut. Shifting around a little he managed to pull out his small figurine and held it against his chest as he started to doze off. Even with Prowl with him the gentle slide into recharge was often interrupted by nightmares.
This time it wasn't a nightmare that dragged him from the brink of recharge but an odd question. "Prowl?" he murmured hoping he could boot up his processor enough to ask the question instead of just mumbling syllables.
"Yes?" his soft voice lulled him a little deeper
"He's s'posed to be guardian, right?" Prowl's soft affirmation got him to his actual question. "Does it still work when you're here?" he murmured.
Prowl's hand stroked down his chest over his spark. "Yes," he whispered as Jazz slid into recharge. "I will protect you, Jazz and he will protect you while you Dream." He felt Prowl's wing cover him just before he fell fully into recharge.
Prowl woke him by stroking his throat. Not an unpleasant way to wake up but it was such an unfamiliar feeling he woke quickly. "Bluestreak had a nightmare, he's on his way down," Prowl murmured. "And I can't feel my lower leg anymore." Jazz snorted and pushed himself up. Prowl sighed and stretched his legs when Jazz was up.
"Y'know you can just push me on the floor," Jazz said standing. "See you in the morning?" A ghost of confusion crossed Prowl's face. Jazz tilted his head toward the door. "Bluestreak," he reminded him.
"You don't have to go," Prowl said softly. "I'll be up with him for the night, you can go back to your recharge." He looked over his shoulder at the berth further back in the room.
"An' where are you two going to recharge?"
Prowl gave him a rare full smile. "I don't. With Bumblebee still out in the field and First Aid off ship for treatment I'll be lucky if he recharges more than a joor." Jazz blinked and rubbed his optics. He had no idea Bluestreak's nightmares were still so bad. Prowl stood and stretched his back and wings. "They're not usually like this, well, not unless he's been in the field. But the accident frightened him considerably and without First Aid and Bumblebee it's been rough on him."
"So what do you do?" Jazz asked. He wished he had something to help the little mech, but he couldn't get through nightmares on his own, he didn't need to be handing out advice. Before Prowl answered there was a soft knock on the door. Being the closer one, Jazz opened it.
Bluestreak flinched back a step when he saw him and gave him a strained smile. "Hi Jazz, sorry, sorry." His thought trailed off and Jazz gently took his arm and pulled him in. When the young Praxian saw Prowl he seemed to remember himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were busy, I'll go back to my room and I'll be okay. I'll go see Ratchet if I still can't sleep 'cause he's always up really late—"
"Bluestreak," Prowl said softly. "I am not busy, you're fine." Bluestreak looked at Jazz uncertainly and Jazz flashed him an easy smile.
"Slumber party, we were just about to play Truth or Dare." Bluestreak giggled and his wings fluttered as his anxiety lessoned. Prowl tossed his head at the couch and Bluestreak plopped down chattering with a sort of manic energy that made Jazz's spark hurt. Anything and everything in the room was fair game for conversation and his words blurred together as his optics bounced around.
"Bluestreak," Prowl said softly, "You're safe, there's no darkness here." Bluestreak clicked; a remnant from his youngling vorns when he'd had a speech glitch as he'd so enthusiastically told Jazz not long after their first meeting. "Have you eaten?" Prowl asked stroking his helm as he sat down next to him. Bluestreak nodded but didn't launch into the story. Jazz sat on Prowl's other side, leaning against him and listening to Bluestreak start in on a thrilling story about his trip to get his morning ration.
Bluestreak snuggled against Prowl's wing while the older Praxian listened to the mundane story with patience Jazz didn't think he would ever have. As the story started to wind down he turned on an old Praxus documentary that, from Bluestreak's chatter, Jazz gathered they had started the last time Bumblebee was in the field. Bluestreak's optics lit with interest as soon as the narrator started in on the massive mountains and deep gorges that made up Praxus. "Lookit, Prowl, do you see?" he chirped excitedly as a breathtaking aerial view filled the screen with valleys full of blooming trees and wildflowers. Mountains lush with greenery, cascading waterfalls, and rivers white with foam filled the screen as the narrator began talking about the native wildlife. "It's so pretty, does all of Praxus look like that? I wish I could remember it. Is that what it looks like where you're from, Prowl? Has Hound been there? Do you think he has some stills? He always takes the best pictures of flowers and birds and oh look! The whole town is built on the side of the mountain, that's so great! Are those towns still there, Prowl? Can we go to Praxus some orn?" He sat up a little and his wings fluttered with excitement.
Prowl curled his wing more around Bluestreak and the small sniper made himself comfortable again as more of the Praxus landscape was revealed. "Yes," Prowl said softly. "We will go to Praxus, I promise." He stroked the side of Bluestreak's helm and the young Praxian's optics dimmed a little with recharge. "And no, not all of Praxus is green like that. Northern Praxus is mostly desert, it looks more like Ankmor. I am from the far north east of Praxus in the high An'shar mountains. Some of the mountains are so eroded they look like sheets of rock that will blow over in the next windstorm, others are spires and they are always covered in snow." Bluestreak's optics dimmed even more as Prowl's low voice continued. "The bottom of the mountain is where they farm. They have the most magnificent steppe farms, every bit of the lower mountain has been turned into root paddies. And when the suns hit it just right it looks like the bottom of the mountain is made of glass and mirrors. It reflects the sky and when the suns set on clear nights they look like fire."
"So pretty," Bluestreak mumbled as his systems began cycling down for recharge. A faint smile lifted the corner of Prowl's mouth.
"All that still there?" Jazz asked watching Bluestreak fidget and mumble in his recharge until he was comfortable.
Prowl lightly stroked Bluestreak's wing to settle him. "Yes," he said after the young Praxian sighed and stilled. "The core of Praxus is gone, utterly destroyed, but the fringe is still there. My home stands."
Jazz woke when Prowl moved. The old habit of not fully dropping into recharge while he was upright brought him up and ready with a knife with the gentle movement. "It's all right," Prowl said softly. Jazz still retracted his visor and looked over the room for any breaches. His natural nocturnal sight still couldn't be matched by technology, the additional scanners he had for heat and movement were standard for XOps with a few upgrades he'd learned the hard way were well worth the credits.
"It was dark againandIcouldn't move anditwasreally dark," Bluestreak's accelerated spark pulse triggered one of Jazz's sensors and he finally tucked the knife away. The small Praxian curled against Prowl whimpering. Prowl's weight shifted and he leaned more against Jazz so his wings could fully wrap around the trembling juvenile.
"It's not dark anymore, spark," Prowl murmured. "You're safe." Jazz sat up more and rested his chin on Prowl's shoulder. Bluestreak trembled, his wings wrapped tight around him like additional armor. Pulling Prowl closer to his chest he reached under his arms and stroked along the joints of Bluestreak's back with the lowest setting of his magnets. Prowl pressed his forehead against the side of Bluestreak's head. "No more dark," he whispered. Bluestreak relaxed against him again, head slipping lower on his shoulder as he fell back into recharge. Prowl pressed a soft kiss against his head and sighed.
"Why don't you put 'em with the Twins?" Jazz whispered. Bluestreak didn't stir. Prowl canted his head a fraction, a silent question. "They're off ship a lot, but hardly ever overnight."
Prowl shook his head a little. "The Twins like having their own room, after the years in Kaon it's still a novelty for them to have a safe space to retreat to." His wings settled more comfortably around Bluestreak. "And Bluestreak, Bumblebee, and First Aid are the youngest onboard, they're quite close. Pulling him out of their room for any reason would be painful for all of them." Letting his head tip back against Jazz he sighed with spark deep exhaustion. "His nightmares are hardly this bad anymore, it's only after he's been in the field that he finds it difficult to cope."
Jazz had over the vorns thought it odd the best sniper in the army was almost never in the field, but after seeing one of Bluestreak's worst episodes understood completely why his use was sporadic. "You can always list him as a civilian. He doesn't have to be here," he murmured. Given the terrors the juvenile was subject too he probably shouldn't have made it past the front door of the recruitment office.
Prowl squeezed his optics shut and shook his head again. "Decacycles ago that was a possibility, but he's known to the Decepticons now. If they found him unprotected, even on a neutral colony, they would kill him." Jazz thought about that for a quiet breem as Bluestreak recharged peacefully. Unless they wanted to assign a guard to the small Praxian either for the rest of his life or until the war was over, whichever came first, he wouldn't be safe anywhere but in the spark of the Autobot army. But, there could be another option.
"Ya'know," Jazz said softly. "He's still a ward of the state until he's an adult. That's, what, four decacycles away?"
Prowl's arms tightened around the smaller Praxian briefly. "I know. Optimus already made the suggestion." Jazz lifted his optic ridges in surprise. He wouldn't have guessed the Prime, with the thousands of other things he was trying to do, would have noticed how close Prowl and Bluestreak were. "But I can't," Prowl said.
"Oh?" Jazz murmured breathing in his familiar scent. Bluestreak clicked in his recharge and Prowl pulled him a little higher on his chest so he could rest his head against his.
"Jazz," Prowl said with a soft laugh devoid of humor, "I am second-in-command of this army. I cannot have young. They would be targeted immediately. He nuzzled Bluestreak once and sighed. "I will never knowingly put him in such danger."
"I know that," Jazz said, more than willing to argue this point. "But if you adopt him you can take him off active duty and he can still stay onboard."
Prowl was already shaking his head. "He's too old for the rule to apply, he'll be an adult soon and all ships in the armada are limited personal. If he's not an active duty soldier he would have to be taken to a neutral colony." Jazz muttered a curse and a humorless smile curved Prowl's mouth. "I could assign him to Hound and Trailbreaker," he said softly. "And let him roam distant worlds a few times a vorn, but I know he wouldn't allow it. He wants to do something for this army, Jazz. He wants to help." Jazz winced at the smelting pit and hard place Bluestreak had wedged the older Praxian into. "Sniper is the only position he can be in that requires limited use."
They were quiet for almost half a joor, Jazz staring at the far wall trying to think of somewhere he could put the little sniper in his team. Given most of their missions had, at best, a forty percent chance for success he didn't think Prowl would sign off on any transfer. Bluestreak clicked again and snuggled more against Prowl with his wings drooping on his back. "I have to send him out again soon," Prowl whispered, with roughness in his smooth voice.
"When was he last out?" Jazz murmured.
"Three kels." Without Ratchet signing off on an injury leave, the longest an active duty soldier could go without an assignment was four kels from the date of their last return. After that, they went dormant and were considered non-active. Bluestreak would have to leave the ship if he didn't go out into the field. Jazz sent a heartfelt curse out to Megatron and every glitch that persisted with the war.
"I'll see if I got some reconnaissance that could use the assist," he whispered; something quiet and simple that could get Bluestreak off ship and back without too much danger, relatively speaking. He leaned back more and pulled Prowl against him, holding him similar to the way he held Bluestreak. Prowl stared at the ceiling, faint lines of pain on his face. Bluestreak recharged with quiet clicks. His adult frame structure was beginning to show along his jaw line and across his shoulders but so much of him still carried the rounded features of a sparkling. Jazz watched Bluestreak recharge with a twist of pain in his own spark. "We'll keep him safe, Prowler," he whispered pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. Prowl turned his head to Jazz and his sapphire optics slowly closed when Jazz pressed their foreheads together.
Bluestreak's chirp woke both of them. In the second it took Prowl to lift his head Jazz caught the flash of deadly promise in his optics. For the first time in vorns he had a disconcerting moment where he didn't think he was the most dangerous thing in the room. "Bluestreak, what is it?" Prowl asked in a gentle voice.
Bluestreak beamed at him. "I recharged." And then he yawned. "And I was going to get up but you squeezed and it surprised me, so I squeaked."
Prowl nuzzled the young Praxian and unfolded his wings with a small smile. "I'm sorry, spark, I didn't feel you wake." Bluestreak didn't get up, but wiggled around until he was comfortable again and snuggled against Prowl with a soft sigh. Jazz started to drift off again when an alarm chimed in his HUD.
"Ah, c'mon," he groaned. "Stupid….are these o'dark-thirty meetings your idea?" he asked Prowl, not entirely sure how he'd handle the truth.
Prowl didn't answer him. "Bluestreak," he murmured. The young Praxian looked up at Prowl with wide blue optics like a cyberkitten. Another smile touched Prowl's face. "It hasn't worked yet and it won't work this orn. Come love, Sideswipe has first shift in communications and Bumblebee has a check-in scheduled in a joor." That perked Bluestreak up.
"Ya' know, Blue, if you don't move and I don't move, he can't move," Jazz said in a last effort to reclaim recharge.
"Wrong," Prowl corrected. He scooped Bluestreak up and stood in a move Jazz had to replay twice before he figured out how he did it. Bluestreak giggled and kicked his feet until Prowl set him down, then his wings fluttered as he warmed up to his usual chatter.
Prowl and Jazz parted with Bluestreak on A deck as he scurried down the hall to see Sideswipe and wait for Bumblebee's transmission. Prowl watched him go with the same troubled look on his face as he'd had the night before. "Where's Bee?" Jazz asked keeping his voice low. Technically they shouldn't be discussing Bumblebee's mission or location outside of Prowl's office. But if Bumblebee wasn't anywhere deep in Decepticon territory Prowl could send Bluestreak out on an assist if it was needed or not, it still counted as field work. Prowl took a deep breath and gave Jazz a rare full smile.
"I have something for him," Prowl said softly. "I just don't like doing this to him." The pained look crossed his face again but he lifted his wings and closed off the troubling thoughts. "Blaster is ahead," he said, dropping back a step and pegging Red Alert with a narrowed optic look when he stepped out of the security room. The horned Gygaxian froze for a full five seconds before cringing and approaching Prowl. Jazz snickered and kept walking, slowing a little so he could hear why Prowl had pounced on the security director.
"I didn't mean to," Red said with a defiant huff.
"Red Alert, I walked you halfway back to your quarters, how could you have accidentally found your way up two decks and on the opposite side of the ship." Were Prowl a mech who rolled his optics, that sentence would have had at least two. Red Alert huffed again but didn't answer. "Kokoro, we've gone over this exactly thirty-two times. You need a minimum of six joors of recharge and two rations a day. When is the last time you ate?"
"You have no authority on telling anyone else when they need to recharge and eat," Red Alert shot back. Listening to the two of them go back and forth was like listening to an old bonded pair. "When's the last time you ate?"
"Ten point four joors ago," Prowl responded. "When is the last time you ate?" he asked again not leaving room for argument. Red Alert made an irritated sound.
"You hardly remember to recharge yourself, how do you know how much recharge I need?" Red continued to argue.
"That's why I have Jazz," Prowl said. Jazz laughed, he wasn't subtle about is eavesdropping and everyone knew it. "He reminds me to eat and I remind you to eat, thus keeping the officers of this army functioning." Red Alert snorted but didn't argue further.
Jazz walked into the conference room with Blaster filling him in on the details of the party. He still didn't mind missing the party, but enjoyed hearing about Cliffjumper's inebriated attempt to fight Mirage. Prowl and Red Alert walked in behind them, no longer arguing about recharge and eating but with their heads close together only speaking intermittently meaning most of the conversation was happening over a secure channel. He flipped through his frequencies hoping to hit on it but doubted it would be open to him. He gave up after one scan and slid into his seat between Prowl and Blaster.
Ratchet was the last in with a dark glower on his face. Jazz's latent irritation at the medic woke and he glared at him. A subtle shift from Prowl and a wing brushed against his shoulder, given how close the chairs were and that they were not meant for wings it could have been an accident. Jazz stopped glaring at the medic with an irritated sigh followed by a yawn. Blaster crossed his arms and mirrored Jazz's yawn.
The meeting began with their updated schedule for arriving at the neutral dock. The actual length of time the repairs would take was more tentative given their resident engineer was still touch and go from his injuries. He expected Prowl to remind Ratchet to send his plans but it never came up. Curiosity got the better of him and the Decepticon troop movements Prowl was outlining was the information he had supplied so he busied himself looking at the outgoing transmission logs from last night. He found Prowl's tag in the early joors of the morning, well, earlier, and scanned the transcript. Ratchet must have sobered up enough to send the plans or Prowl was making a guess at what he would need. He didn't see Prowl doing that though. So either Ratchet had sent the plans or his med bay was going to be rebuilt exactly as it had been because Prowl wasn't going to hold up the whole project waiting for him. If that was the case, their repair stay could be quite lively.
"Jazz," Prowl said bringing him back to the meeting. He thought he'd been caught zoning out, but if Prowl knew he wasn't calling him on it. "Your report is now two orns late. Next time Ratchet threatens to weld you to something I will make sure it is your desk." Jazz flashed him his most winning smile and Ratchet glowered at them both.
After the meeting where Jazz learned absolutely nothing he didn't already know, Blaster walked out with him. "You eat yet? I gotta grab something and head to communications. Don't wanna be late," he said rolling his eyes to the side indicating Red Alert and Prowl back to arguing about recharging and eating.
"No, Red Alert," Prowl said with borderline exasperation. "You are going to eat something and then you are going to recharge on your day off."
"No, Prowl," Red Alert countered in the same tone. "I am going back to the security office to finish what I was doing and I will eat and recharge later."
"You said that last night and you didn't do it. Now, you're being punished."
"Punished! For what?" Red Alert demanded coming to a stop with his arms crossed. Prowl hooked his arm and kept him moving.
"Disobeying a direct order."
Red Alert growled and snarled at Prowl. "A direct order? Whose order? What order? I haven't disobeyed anything!"
"I told you last night to eat and recharge and you didn't do it. That was a direct order from a superior and you didn't do it."
"You can't do that!" Red Alert snapped. Jazz covered his mouth with his hand while he laughed.
Blaster gave him a sidelong look. "What're you laughing at?" he said looking around. Jazz still couldn't believe the two officers could walk through the halls and argue about such ridiculous things and no one paid any attention. He was curious to know what everyone thought they were talking about when Red started yelling.
"You hear them?" he asked nodding in the officers' direction. He laughed again. "I swear if anyone heard a recording of them they'd think they were bonded." Red Alert continued yelling at Prowl about abuse of power as the rest of the crew passed by them without an optic flicker.
Blaster watched them for a few seconds and then rolled his optics. "Jazzman, you been spendin' too much time with them if that's what's makin' you laugh." Now it was Jazz's turn to roll his optics. But, no matter how entertaining he found the conversation, he couldn't stay glued to Prowl indefinitely. He followed Blaster into the dispensary and sat at their usual table in the middle of the room. Mechs and femmes settled in with them as Blaster turned on some hard thumping music. Blaster started in on the party again and Jazz relaxed into the noise adding his laughter to the conversation as the whole night was laid out a breem at a time.
A/N: I am always saddened there aren't more stories with Prowl and Red Alert either as bond mates or buddies. It seems like such an obvious pair up with Prowl being a tactician and Red Alert in charge of security. Anyway, thank you for reading/reviewing/favorites and Happy Holidays :)