Part 36
The med-bay had been so loud at first that Jazz had almost felt at home; the medics were shouting at each other, parts were being tossed around or replaced with a steady clink, clink, clonk, and anyone well enough to talk was chatting away with their neighbours.
It seemed to Jazz that no one wanted to be still, or silent. Deactivation was too close by for them to relax, but the Unmaker had a rival, the living had a protector, and his name was Ratchet. The C.M.O was easily the busiest and noisiest 'bot in the room, and Jazz had never been so glad to see him.
Prowl was stretched out, still offline, on the berth, and as one of the highest ranked casualties, was under Ratchet's personal care. Although the medic regularly stormed off to correct, and shout at, one of his underlings.
Eventually though the noise subsided. Only those who were still offline were left in their berths, with a handful of quiet medics remaining to tend them.
Feeling that he could finally move from his vantage point by the wall without being crushed, or reconfigured by the irate C.M.O, Jazz silently took a seat on the edge of Prowl's berth. He held his hand for a while, and willed the tactician to be alright, even though he knew the Prowl wasn't in any danger, but despite his best intentions he soon grew bored, and allowed his optics to roam the med-bay in the hope of a distraction.
Wheeljack, he was disappointed to discover, was no where in sight, and when Jazz thought back he realised that he hadn't seen his friend in some time, but he was more surprised to see that Bluestreak was also gone. He had felt sure that the young mech wouldn't leave Prowl's side until he was fully functional again. In fact he was so convinced that the next time Ratchet passed him by he asked the medic where the gunner was.
"Unlike you," the medic said pointedly, "Bluestreak trusts me, and believes without question that I'll give Prowl the very best of care."
Before Jazz could speak again Ratchet bustled off, but Jazz had caught the undertone of the medic's words. If there ever came a time when Ratchet wasn't able to save Prowl's spark Bluestreak wouldn't be there watching.
Eventually though Prowl was broght back online, once Ratchet was satisfied that Prowl's self-repair systems were well into their programs he released him, and Jazz realised that the time had come. He still had no idea what would happen next though.
Feeling nervous and beyond exhausted Jazz followed Prowl into his quarters. Such a thing was rare. Jazz knew that most Autobots had so little private time, or space, that they guarded their own rooms to the point of obsession. An invitation to someone else's quarters usually indicated a close friendship, or a relationship, but Jazz knew that he didn't really have either of those things with Prowl.
Curiously Jazz peered around the main room. It wasn't what he had been expecting. In his idle moments he had imagined Prowl's quarters to be sparse, regimented, and probably incredibly tidy, but although it seemed as if everything had a place, there were decorations, the room was softly lit, comfortable, and had a strangely familiar feel.
He quickly realised that the source of the positive feeling came from a collection of small crystals, several placed individually, or in pairs, around the room, and four in a bowl that took pride of place on a delicate table in the centre.
"Where are you from Prowl?" he asked.
"Praxus," Prowl answered sorrowfully. It was clear that he still mourned the fall of his city.
"It was always one of my favourite places," Jazz said sympathetically. "And I saw the devastation that the Decepticons caused. I intend to hunt down those responsible, some of them have already paid for their part."
"More than you think," Prowl said with a savage look that Jazz had never expected to see on his face-plates. "I believe that emotion has no place in war, it leads to mistakes and disasters, but I have allowed myself a few small acts of revenge. Was it wrong of me to find them satisfying?"
Jazz was stunned by the question, but he quickly shook his head.
"They desecrated your city, and took away everyone you knew from there. I've lost friends myself and how much it hurts, revenge is a natural reaction to that pain."
Prowl gave him a grateful look. "The others say that they understand, but most of them were sparked here in Iacon, and the Decepticons don't do much more than make a show of attacking here once in a while."
"And I'm sure you soon make them regret doing so," Jazz said lightly, he was hoping to raise Prowl's spirits.
"We're lucky enough to be well defended here, and not many 'Cons are brave enough to take on a Prime."
Jazz thought of the huge mech he had seen defeating the guardian of Crystal City, and wondered how Optimus would fare against him, but fortunately the colossus hadn't been seen since. He decided not to mention it, Prowl had surely heard of him anyway, and he wanted to get the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about; them. An idea occurred to him and he smiled to himself. "As you're from Praxus you should have these," he said as he reached into his subspace and pulled out the two crystals he had acquired on his previous visits to Prowl's former home.
Prowl's optics lit up at the sight of them. "My stars," he whispered, "I didn't think I'd see any more."
"I've had them for a while," Jazz admitted, as Prowl took the two jewels from him and examined them closely.
"You've used this one," Prowl said holding up the one that Jazz had picked up when he and Wheeljack had taken a few cycles leave vorns ago. Jazz nodded, and wondered if Prowl could tell what he had used it for. "It feels like you, so it belongs to you," he passed it back, and as he pressed it into Jazz's hand his optics widened, and his cooling fans kicked in. "Wow," he murmured, "I didn't know that could happen."
"Then it seems I might have something to teach you," Jazz said cheerfully.
Prowl smiled easily. "I'll look forward to that, but would you excuse me for a moment, I must know something first."
"Of course," Jazz nodded. He was expecting another question, but instead Prowl pulled away from him reluctantly, and started moving around the room. "What are you doing?"
"The crystals are sensitive to many influences," Prowl explained, "they change over time, it's not ridiculous to wonder if they evolve. Their individualities create harmonies, they fascinated me, I need to know if this one will match any of the others I have."
"You certainly seem to have quite a collection," Jazz observed.
"With Crystal City and Praxus destroyed what you see here is probably one of the best in the world," Prowl lamented. It was a sad fact that the few shards that Prowl had gathered were a large proportion of what survived two of the greatest wonders of their world. "It's my hope that when the war is over I will return to Praxus and help to rebuild what was lost, maybe even become a caretaker for the new gardens."
"You don't make any sense," Jazz mumbled as Prowl moved from the main room to the recharge chamber. He wasn't expecting Prowl to hear him, but apparently he had underestimated Prowl's audio range.
"Why not?"
"You're a military tactician, an expert in war, but you say you dream of a contemplative life caring for crystals."
"As a youngling I craved adventure, I had no problem with Praxus, but I wanted to see the world so I came to Iacon, managed to get a job as a servant, which I was good enough at to be promoted, after a few vorns I became a body-guard to the last Prime, and because of him I saw places that I had only ever dreamed of before."
"But then the war began," Jazz predicted.
"And Sentinel discovered that I had a talent for strategies. I could see weak points in battle-lines that no one else could, and he put me forward for up-grades to make me even better. After that I only ever failed him once."
Jazz didn't need to see Prowl's face to know that how guilty he felt about the former Prime's death. He was about to follow him into the other room and offer to comfort him, but at that moment Prowl re-emerged and walked slowly towards the bowl of four crystals in the centre of the room. Suddenly his optics lit up, and a smile crept onto his face before he placed the crystal among the others.
"Thank you," he said genuinely, "I didn't think I would ever find another to match these."
Jazz watched the bowl wondering if there was a change, did he feel different? Did the crystals glow a little brighter? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to believe.
"What about you?" Prowl asked. "I mean you know a little more about me now, it seems only fair that you tell me about you. Where are you from?"
"Can't you tell?" Jazz teased him. Few of his friends had ever asked him that question, and his answer was never the one they expected.
"No," Prowl admitted. "Your accent isn't clear. You called Nova Cronum home, but you don't have the military attitude that I'd expect from someone sparked there."
"My creators spent a lot of time off-world, trading with mining posts mainly. They were heading back to Cybertron for my separation, but I came early; just as we broke atmo. My creators used to tell me that I was sparked amongst the stars, but I am a citizen of this world. Maybe that's why I can always manage to make a home in whichever city I fetch up in."
"If we all thought the same way there would be no war," Prowl whispered. "How many cities have fallen because we have refused to accept that we are, in essence, the same?" His optics seemed haunted by the question.
"It doesn't work that way," Jazz told him. "I see this world as mine to protect, but it's too much. I've tried so hard, and failed so often. I've done terrible things in the line of an impossible duty. I may well be the worst mech you've ever met." His voice shook as he finished. A thought that scared him more than anything else he had faced was forming itself into words. "I should go."
"Jazz wait!" Prowl said instantly. "It's the crystals."
"I don't understand," Jazz admitted. His emotions were almost beyond his control, and he felt as if he might shatter under the weight of them.
Prowl pointed to the bowl of gems. They were definitely glowing, and Jazz wondered if he could hear them; a frequency right on the edge of his hearing seemed to be picking up something, but he couldn't tell what it was. His worst fears crept through his processor and seemed more real by the moment. At any time they might burst out in front of Prowl. He started to back away.
"By Primus, but they're powerful," Prowl sounded awestruck, and just as scared as Jazz was.
"The crystals are supposed to make us feel better," Jazz argued.
"And we will, but first we have to accept the things that make us feel worse. Our fears, our sins, our sorrows..." Prowl's hands were shaking.
"Make it stop!" Jazz pleaded.
"I can't," Prowl whispered helplessly. "I know it hurts, but we have to do this."
Jazz's fear evolved into words, and he couldn't hold them in. "I have nothing to offer you," he whispered. The confession broke his control, burned him, froze him, and threatened to destroy him.
Prowl's intakes stalled. He looked as if he might collapse at any moment. "I'm terrified of you." The admission seemed to equal Jazz's. The tactician's best kept secret had also been given voice, and made real.
Seeing Prowl so scared gave Jazz courage. If he ran he could save himself, but it would not help Prowl. He dashed forward; intending to smash the bowl and it's contents.
"No!" he heard Prowl cry. He felt a tug on his arm. Prowl was trying to stop him, and at the same moment Jazz's outstretched fingers brushed the nearest crystal.
They landed on the floor. Huddled together, but no longer afraid. They felt washed clean, relieved, their flaws and transgressions forgiven in one moment of indescribable release.
Jazz held Prowl in his arms, and felt impossibly content. He had wondered more than once if that feeling had been a dream rather than a memory. The last time I felt like this I ran, he thought, but it didn't help.
Neither of them spoke. Prowl reached up with a hand that still shook slightly, and pulled Jazz down into a heated kiss. Jazz returned it, and felt the thrill of such a wonderful thing race through his circuits.
"What just happened?" Jazz asked when they broke apart.
"You and I have shared a tumultuous relationship so far, a past which needed to be reckoned with before we could move on. The crystals they... well perhaps sensed is the wrong word, that would imply intelligence, but I don't know how else to phrase it. They sensed our problems and took it upon themselves to make things right. Maybe we couldn't have done it by ourselves, maybe they were just working as they should, but regardless, here we sit at ease with each other, and our flaws."
"And you're not scared of me anymore?"
Prowl looked a little embarrassed. It was understandable, Jazz was sure that Prowl never would have spoken those words under any other circumstances.
"You represent everything I am not. You are impulsive, reckless, and, if you will excuse my honesty, a bit of a rogue. I cannot understand you, or the way you live your life. I cannot predict you, and when I am around you I find that you affect my reactions. My life is logical, you are not, and my weakness left me terrified of you."
"Weakness?" Jazz asked, "I've seen no sign of weakness in you."
"It's not something i broadcast, but when I became tactical adviser to the Prime I was given the best up-grades possible; a logic centre that surpasses all others, and a battle-computer. My processor relies heavily on them, and they suppress my emotions so that I can remain functional even in the worst of times. I need to think, to reason, or I am useless. How can I satisfy an emotionally developed mech such as you within such limits?"
"We'll work it out," Jazz assured him. "It'll take some work on both sides, but I've always enjoyed challenges."
"As have I," Prowl admitted.
"Then we have something in common," Jazz grinned. It felt like a victory, a small one, but a victory. "What else do you like?" he added in a suggestive tone. Their ordeal was over, the crystals settled, he had Prowl in his arms, and was reluctant to give up such an opportunity.
A.N: I'll admit that I may have gotten a little carried away with the crystals in this chapter, and if you think that way I apologise, but let's face it there are probably hundreds of stories about how Jazz and Prowl got together on this site, this is an idea that I hadn't seen before, I tried it out, and liked the result. I hope you did too. Take care. FB.
P.s. Edited for a couple of mistakes pointed out in a review. The post came from a guest, so I can't thank you personally, but it's great to know that you were paying attention.