Disclaimer: I own nothing (not even the songs) and gain nothing from this

Warning: slash . . . if two robots have gender

'thoughts'

"talk"

Thoughts

All mechs want the things they can't have. The same can be said about squishies too. It looks like the power to hear the thoughts of others is a gift many would give everything they have in order to get. I don't really think it's all that special. In fact, it can be quite bothersome.

In order to be a successful information gatherer my creator, not only gave me the most sensitive audio receptors in all of Cybertron, but he decided to skip the filtering programming that would let me suppress all the unimportant thoughts. In other words, I hear everything all the time. I learned to adapt soon, after a slight lapse on my… well, humans would call it sanity. My creator was dead, but I learned how to live with the power he gave me.

'I should kill him. He's nothing but a traitor.'

'Is he making fun of me again?'

'Slag this itching! What in the Pit did those Constructicons used to fix me?'

'Maybe I should've waxed for this reunion.'

'Oh, Primus, he's looking at me again. I'm beginning to think he likes me.'

'Tired… Energon…'

'That traitor is planning something! See how he fidgets when I look at him.'

'Is Ramjet melting? No? Slag!'

'He comes on to me and I'll fire his aft back to Cybertron.'

'Didn't we pour acid on Ramjet? Nothing's happening.'

And they wonder why I don't talk. I never really learned how to communicate properly. I was made to listen not to talk. Being able to hear thoughts as clearly as if they were being spoken right next to my audios makes it harder to know if what I'm hearing is real or in someone's mind..

'. . . Move along; move along like I know you do. And even when your hope is gone, move along, move along just to make it

through . . . '

That's a new one, obviously human by the tone of the voice of the singer. He seems to be happy. At least someone's having a good time.

' . . . Whoa I'll never give in. Whoa I'll never give up. Whoa I'll never give in. And I just wanna be, wanna be loved . . .'

I can't read him like I read the others. The way his mind works is refreshing. Music. Like his name. Everything is made of music. I have to dig deeper to see his real thoughts. It's like he has two CPUs running at the same time; one for his real thoughts and another for his music. With him, I know when he speaks and I can answer him without fear of answering his mind. Not like he cares. I accidentally did that once and instead of looking at me with mistrust; he laughed and actually thanked me for doing that. That was different; especially when he is aware of the things I am capable of doing.

Just because it actually requires some effort doesn't mean that I can't enter his mind. That was the reason we met. He once got too comfortable with me and came to see me with a very important Autobot mission on his mind. Megatron rewarded me nicely when I stopped it. At least he made me proud, realizing it was me who told the Decepticons about his mission. He hasn't repeated that mistake again. He was mad at me for a long time, but he had to re-learn the hard way to never underestimate me and my abilities. Besides, I knew he would come back to me. It's an Autobot thing.

Still, it's hard to relax when I'm being bombarded with every thought possible all the time. It's even harder to recharge, especially with a past as bloody as the one we have. Every night a Decepticon has a nightmare and every night I'm taken along for the ride. And even though I may like the screams, hearing the thoughts of the squishies as they die around me is not as enjoyable. But with him at my side the world turns silent. Only his music remains and it is his music that pulls me into the best recharges I've ever had.

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass. Don't know how much time has passed. All I know is that it feels like forever. When no one ever tells you that forever feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head . . .'

"Sleep tight, luv."

Jazz is my silence, my one moment of peace in the chaotic swirling of thoughts that surround me. For that, even if he's the enemy, I can't do anything else but love him.