Okay, I've procrastinated long enough on this. "Wonderwall" is finished, and the third fic in this universe, "You May Be Right", is up. I'm a little irked that this story only has 9 reviews. By this point, "Wonderwall" had like 20. "YMBR" is one chapter and has 8. Oh, well.
Jazz uses the term 'youngling' the way adults use 'kid'. It can mean sparkling or minibot. And Prowl is the only one who suspects Skyfire's Lolita complex. I'm not going into that too much.
"Transformers" © HasTak.
oOo
"No," Ratchet glared when Jazz told him just whom they'd be rescuing. "I'm not using up valuable supplies for a Decepticon."
"How 'bout fo' the Autobot who loves 'im?"
"You can tell Skyfire to shove it up his tailpipe. Starscream's shot at me far too many times for me to care whether he lives or dies."
"I ain't talkin' 'bout Skyfire!" Jazz groaned, exasperated. "C'mon, Ratch-man. Yo' an Autobot. Ya can't just let him die. Y'know that. Jus' do me a solid, man. Jus' this once!"
Ratchet sighed, or at least did the Cybertronian equivalent, heavily blowing air through his systems. "I must be getting soft… Is it Bumblebee?"
"Man, shut up!"
"Jazz," now the medic sounded amused, "you've been bending over backwards for him since you found out who he was. You know this is a severe breach of protocol. Saving Starscream won't save Soundwave."
Jazz paused before replying, "Yeah, I know… I jus'… I need ta see Bee happy. He's all I got left of Sounds."
"…I know, Jazz."
oOo
Iacon had been a neutral city at one time, though it had always favoured the Autobot side of the war. It was during that neutral time that Soundwave had gotten his face mask, and, not too long after, was sitting with his friends in a bar. (As mechs were so apt to do.) Ratchet was making sure Jazz stayed sober, and Jazz was sulking over it. Prowl was talking about the war. Eventually, it would reach this side of the planet…
"…and eventually we'll have to pick a side. Neutrals would naturally be the first casualties. All I'm saying is that the Autobot side looks much more promising."
"The Decepticons have flying power, though," Wheeljack pointed out. "Sorry, Prowl, but that's a pretty big advantage."
"Or it would be if they didn't live up to their names," Prowl snapped, door-wings twitching in annoyance. He was still bitter over the supposed loss of Bluestreak.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Wheejack's head-things (Jazz was unsure what to call them) flashed.
"Decepticons. Deceptive. It's right in the name. They stab each other in the back every chance they get, and that lack of camaraderie certainly won't win them any battles."
"Touchy, aren't we Prowl?" Ratchet added.
"Hardly," Prowl scoffed. "I'm just saying that from what I've read, the Autobots are far more honourable."
At that statement, Soundwave stood up. Another mech may have caused some sort of a scene, but he slipped away, unnoticed by everyone at the table except Jazz.
"Well, slag," Jazz muttered. "Don't mind me; jus' continue yo' stimulatin' political conversation. I'll be right back." Dismissing himself, he ran out the back door to follow Soundwave.
It was only after Jazz had left the room that Wheeljack noticed Soundwave was gone, too.
"Sounds?" Outside, in an alleyway, Jazz was running after his bulky flatmate. "Aw, c'mon, don't be mad!"
"I'm not."
"Yo' shaking."
Realising he was, Soundwave leaned against the wall of a building until it subsided.
"'Sbetter. Now, wanna tell me what's the matter?" Jazz smiled sweetly.
"Prowl."
That was a mild surprise, but Jazz didn't let it register on his face. "Yo' bein' insensitive. Prowl's still upset over losin' li'l Blue."
"The insensitive: Prowl. Not me."
"Sounds, who cares how much he hates the 'cons? Tha's his prerogative! An' ya said yo'self that Megatron was some sort o' monster."
"I was young and foolish."
"It wasn't that long ago!"
"Megatron may be a monster, but at least he allowed the citizens of Kaon to live," Soundwave's optics blazed beneath the visor for a few seconds before he composed himself. "Because of the 'honourable' Autobots, my home is gone. All my maker's work... all my work… it's all gone…"
Jazz couldn't keep from gasping, then wrapping his arms around Soundwave, who didn't react in the slightest. "If ya want it, Sounds… yo' home is here wit' me, in Iacon. Iacon's a neutral city still – no Decepticons, no Autobots…" Sensing Soundwave would probably block him out if he kept going, he let his friend go and changed the subject, "Why'd ya get a battle mask? You're no soldier."
"I never liked showing my emotions."
"That can't be healthy," Jazz shook his head. Soundwave looked away. "It doesn't suit ya, man. I can't see yo' face. Take it off? Fo' me?"
"Negative."
"Aw, c'mon, just fo' a breem? Why keep it on, anyway?"
"I already said…"
"Not really, no," Jazz answered. "That's no fair. You know everything 'bout me… if only cos yo' telepathy skills have improved so much…"
Soundwave hated that Jazz had the ability to talk him into anything. He pressed a button that parted the mask in the middle, and the black-and-white's breath caught in his throat. He'd almost forgotten how beautiful Soundwave's face was. A beauty that was tainted with sorrow. Not just about what Prowl had said, though – it looked as if the frown had been there for a long time. Too long.
"Sounds," Jazz staggered forward to run a hand over the frown. Soundwave jerked away, looking at his feet. "Soundwave… I'm so sorry…"
The indigo mech sank to the ground, not knowing if Jazz was apologising for making him remove the mask or for something else entirely. He didn't really care. Had he been able to, he would have cried. Not even able to do that, he merely brooded as the other continued to softly apologise into his audios, kneeling next to him and repeating how sorry he was and how everything would be alright…
…and when the empty promises and apologies turned to kisses, Soundwave didn't react. He couldn't find it in himself to muster up the energy to care.
oOo
Joors passed, and nothing was ever mentioned of that night. It was as if it had never happened. Orns passed, and still Jazz was the same he'd always been. The only difference was that he'd stopped asking about the mask. And, two vorns later, the Science Academy called Skyfire – the first of their trio of scientist friends to get a charge.
And now Skyfire wanted them to meet his charge. He was extremely young, but extremely gifted, the white flier said. He wasn't a native of Iacon. He was a flier. Skyfire had said he was called "Starscream."
But hiding behind Skyfire's leg like that, as they all gaped at him, he looked more like he should be named "Scaredtodeath." It was an image that had never left Jazz's head, nor Wheeljack's.
"Go on," Skyfire urged the young one – he looked vorns under the age of normal academy students. "They won't bite."
Visibly relaxing when Skyfire smiled down at him, the young flier tentatively walked forward, grasping one of his mentor's fingers for support. "I know they won't bite… I'm not stupid, Skyfire…"
The comment wasn't intended for him to hear, but Jazz chortled when he heard anyway. The flier had to be even younger than he looked, with such a soft, high voice.
Skyfire chuckled. "Of course you aren't. You're probably smarter than I am! Introduce yourself."
"I'm Starscream," the student looked around, as if waiting for someone to say something. Shifting uncomfortably when no one did, he added, "I'm a seeker."
"I can see that," Ratchet replied before he could stop himself. The little one looked a little offended, causing Jazz to chortle again.
"What, pray tell, is so amusing?" Prowl asked his best friend.
"Nothin', nothin'. He's fraggin' adorable, Skyfire!"
Skyfire smiled slightly. Starscream backed up to be closer to his mentor. It was obvious new faces made him uneasy.
"Starscream," the tall, white flier addressed his charge. "These are my friends. Ratchet is training to be a medic. Wheeljack is an engineer. And that's Prowl, Jazz, and Soundwave."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the little one recited, though he didn't appear pleased. He looked up at Skyfire uneasily, and the mech sighed.
"I'm sorry, guys," Skyfire smiled, "I promised him I'd take him flying."
"Hey, no problem," Jazz smiled, waving his hand at the pair of fliers. "Run along, now. It was nice ta meet ya, Starscream!"
As soon as they'd left, Ratchet chuckled, "I can't wait to get my own charge." He had no way of knowing at the time that he'd never have the chance.
"Hn," Prowl nodded his acknowledgement. "As long as you don't act like Skyfire does with Starscream."
"Yeah," Prowl's implications went right over Wheeljack's head. The engineer happily added, "Starscream's got our friend wrapped around his little finger, am I right?"
"That's not what I meant," Prowl muttered.
"The youngling's cute; no doubt 'bout that," Jazz smirked, turning to his roommate. "Don'tcha just love younglings, Sounds? I've always liked 'em, m'self."
Soundwave chose not to reply. He'd already known that, so the remark wasn't surprising enough to warrant a reply. Nor did it surprise him when Wheeljack replied:
"You know, you'd make a great caretaker, Jazz. You should look into buying a sparkling kit. You don't necessarily need a bondmate to bring it to life, either. Ratchet could help you clone your spark or whatever single-makers do, I bet."
What did surprise Soundwave was Jazz's reply:
"Yeah, I'd like that a lot. I really want one. The sooner the better!"
"Jazz," Soundwave stood up and gestured for his roommate to do the same. "Follow me. We need to talk."
Prowl, Wheeljack, and Ratchet watched as a confused Jazz followed Soundwave out of Wheeljack's workshop. The engineer didn't bother to tell them that the workshop walls weren't that thick, and thus they heard every word of the discussion:
"You are not buying a sparkling kit," Soundwave told Jazz. He wouldn't allow it.
"Never said I was, Sounds. We could make one! Ya said ya knew how! Wouldn't that be great?"
"No," the taller berated. "How could you want one, Jazz? There are too many sparklings. Too many viruses, battles, psychos, too many deaths. We can't make a sparkling."
"But we could make such a cool, beautiful one," Jazz sounded upset, and Soundwave had to force himself to stay angry. "It'd be so happy, an' we'd love it so much…"
"I don't want a sparkling in our apartment. You're still just one yourself."
"But…"
"Cybertron is a mess. I won't bring a sparkling into it."
Jazz pouted, but Soundwave would have none of it. The black-and-white had never felt so dejected in his life.
oOo
It was a couple orns later when Jazz came home from his factory job, only to be surprised by the fact Soundwave was home before him. Working on something.
"You're home early," Soundwave had to make an effort not to sound surprised. Somehow, Jazz knew his roommate hadn't been expecting him.
"What's that?" the black-and-white mech pointed to the yellow parts on the floor.
"You've been depressed," Even with the facemask and visor, Soundwave somehow managed to look sheepish.
Jazz knelt down, trying to figure out how so many parts would connect. Seeing what Soundwave had already finished – a small hand and a spark chamber – he gasped and broke into a wide smile.
"S-Sounds… Is that… a sparkling kit?"
"No," Soundwave answered honestly. "It's… custom…"
"Primus!" Jazz's grin grew, if it were even possible, and he threw himself into his roommate's arms, shocking the other and knocking him over. "Ya didn't have to."
"I wasn't going to. You were beginning to depress me. It was supposed to be a surprise."
"Thank you," Jazz felt as if his spark chamber would explode from happiness. "We'll make great parents, Sounds. I can feel it."
-TBC-
Not a lot left. (This is a much shorter story than "Wonderwall", after all.) Next chapter, you all get to meet Glyph, who will eventually become Bumblebee! Yay, aren't you all excited?