Author's notes: Thanks all for your comments again on Fireworks:) Whirlwind: I don't think I'm familiar with that fic but I am a big fan of hers. Very talented writer she is. :) I'm glad Jynx and Jazz are starting ta grow on ya too. They are fun to write I'll tell ya that. Jynx is such a clutz and Jazz is so suave, that it makes it too much fun. X) And yeah, I'm kinda my own editor and I suck at editing…Just ask my old English teacher! snorts he'll tell ya that. Tiamat: Thank ya for the complement! Oh, and I should have said that. This takes place before Fireworks. Jynx doesn't come along for a while after this ;) Mariashadow: Thank ye much! Developing characters and making short stories is fun X) I don't have patients to write long things, hence the reason each chapter is pretty short. ;) So. Without having you wait any longer, here's Chapter 4. I almost made this a cliffhanger… almost.

Alone

Chapter 4

Sideswipe looked to the sky as he raced to the explosion site, although he wasn't praying for any act of Primus. No, he was looking at the incoming monsoon storm. Judging by the looks of it, they were in for a very nasty thunderstorm and it wasn't going to take long before it reached here. He could already here the thunder clashes and speckles of rain against his hood.

Not to mention Sunstreaker whining a few feet behind him about what rain does to fresh paint.

Sideswipe skid, kicking up clods of dirt to come to a stop only a few meters from the crater, his brother following suit.

"You look up here, I'll go in." Sideswipe told his brother, as he slid down the crater's embankment. Sunstreaker muttered something under his breath but did as Sideswipe said. Soon, Prime, Prowl, Ratchet, Bluestreak and Bumblebee pulled up, looking to the twins for an answer.

"It was a fake." Sunstreaker said, hauling Sideswipe out of the hole, "They set it up."

Sideswipe got to his feet, shouting in his rage, "It was a slagging fake! He made us think-"

Prowl put his hand on the red twin's shoulder, "Cool it, Sideswipe. If he is not here, then he's still alive…somewhere."

Sideswipe flung Prowl's hand away, his systems still in over drive. "He better be. Or I swear, I'll smear them across the entire slagging desert!"

"That's enough, Sideswipe." Prime fought down his anger as well before turning back to the others. The fact that Megatron made them believe their friend was dead just so he could make his getaway enraged the Autobot leader as well.

"Prowl," Optimus turned to the second, "I want every available Autobot out searching. We have about one week to find him before his reserves run out. Take everyone off patrol and take the guard down to half. We need as many as possible."

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Jazz needed to get out of there. The heat itself was firing his systems as he could already feel his circuits on fire. Not to mention, he was already down to half of a tank and getting very hungry. But what was really killing him was being so completely alone. It had gone beyond being bored now; he was going crazy without someone to keep him sane.

Which actually sounded funny, because usually he was the one who always kept everyone else sane.

If he could hear someone…anyone! Sideswipe or Prime, hell! He'd listen to Red Alerts Primus forsaken rants right now! Anything was better than silence. It reminded him too much of that day…

The day he lost his family.

The day when his city-state, Demircon, was attacked by Megatron and his creator was murdered in front of him. The Decepticons captured both him and his brother, Rhythm but Jazz was the only one to get away. After losing his vision and brother that is.

During his time with the Decepticons, a grand total of 20 breems, he stayed in a sound proof room utterly alone. At the time he was not even a vorn old, a toddler by human standards.

It still haunted him to this day.

Not that he'd let any of the others know this about him. Not even Ratchet or Prime knew about his hidden fear- and that's how it'd stay. Hidden.

"Wish I had a fan in here," he told himself, "definitely come in handy right now." Unsurprisingly, no one replied.

Jazz glared at the ceiling. If he could move right now, he'd kick something. Jazz just knew there had to be a way out of here. Some way. Why couldn't he figure it out? He was a special operations agent with millions of years practice.

Maybe the heat had done damage to his cranial unit.

He sighed and tried to focus. There had to be some equipment the 'Cons didn't take…something he always had in hand.

Hand!

He had his grabbling hook! He could use that to get out and thank Primus, it was in his good hand too.

Jazz lifted his arm and aimed it for the ceiling, near the rim so he could climb out. The silver hook shot through the air and embedded it into the steel cover. Now all he had to do was retract the hook and it should pull him right up to the top.

Gingerly, he tested the line, giving it a good tug. It seemed like it could hold his wait. With a final tug, he began to ascend.

All was good so far. He made it off the ground.

Five feet of the ground.

Ten…

Fifteen…

Creeeeek

The Porsche looked up at the line. It wasn't his handy grabbling hook giving out on him; it was the steel.

Jazz cursed under his breath, "Slagging cheap 'Cons."

The steel buckled again and the hook fell from it's setting. Jazz could hear his windshield on his back shatter as he hit the floor again. Unfortunately, just as Newton once said, "Everything that goes up must come down," and his hook did just that. When it fell it just happened to glaze his side.

"Gah!" Jazz yelped covering the wound with his good hand. Thankfully, it wasn't a large cut. It was just big enough to make him uncomfortable.

The saboteur groaned, a sound that did not usually come from his lips. This was shaping up to be just one of those weeks…