Disclaimer: Not mine. Not gain anything.

Warnings: guess?

italics - reading from datapad

Bath

It had been a gruesome battle. Bots with minor injuries waited outside the Repair Bay until the badly wounded were out of danger. Jazz was sitting on the floor, the light of his visor dim and his body covered in mud, dust and mech fluid. The drying liquid wasn't his, but Sunstreaker's. Jazz's injury consisted of a minor problem with his left knee joint and the circumstances of the injury weren't exactly something to be proud of.

All around him, he could hear the others talking about the battle, but he didn't feel like joining in their bittersweet victory. Sunstreaker's condition had been critical and Jazz could not concentrate until he could be sure the warrior was out of danger. Sunstreaker's injuries were his fault and he had done nothing to avenge him.

Every time they fought, Jazz dreaded the moment he would have to face his lover. He would rather avoid the mech, but he knew that in a war that wasn't possible. So, when Sunstreaker had jumped at Soundwave, Jazz thought it would be best to leave the two alone. Despite him knowing how dangerous Soundwave was and that the probability of his fighting fair was nonexistent.

Unfortunately, neither Jazz nor Sunstreaker counted on the Cassettes being inside of Soundwave instead of running around the battlefield, like the nuisance they were. A detail that the Decepticon Officer had exploited for his advantage. Sunstreaker had looked back for Jazz, but the Porsche was busy helping his brother fight Thundercracker. When the two Bots finished with the Seeker, they turned to find the Cassettes beating the scrap out of the yellow twin. Their numbers weakening the powerful warrior.

They ran to help him, but the Cassettes went back inside their creator as soon as they saw them coming. Jazz stopped running as he watched Soundwave blast Sunstreaker right were his spark chamber would be. And instead of firing at him; instead of making him pay for killing Sunny and making Sideswipe scream like that; he watched, frozen, as the Con fired at him. He fell to the muddy ground, his left leg sending waves of pain at him. When he got to his feet again, Soundwave was long gone.

Jazz had to limp his way towards the twins. Sideswipe was cradling his brother's still form. Shock and grief clouding his thought process. Jazz was the one that noticed the yellow mech moved his arm. After that, everything turned into a blur.

He recalled limping his way towards Ratchet. Helping Sideswipe place Sunny inside the ambulance. And as he watched them go, realizing the battle was over and Megatron had finally retreated. He stayed still for a moment, his frame muddied from when he fell. Dust settling on his form as they left the battlefield, and covered in the mech fluid of his friend after helping him. He made it to the Ark slowly, and as soon as he got there he stood guard in front of the Repair Bay for news on the twin. It was his fault and he could not forgive himself if the warrior died.

Fatigue slowly crept up on him. His energy reserves were low and getting lower. He tried to keep himself from losing consciousness, but everything went black and he shut down to begin recharging.

He came online on his room. He stood up, noticing his knee was healed and his frame was clean and shiny. The Porsche eyed the datapad on his berth and took it in his hands.

Hey Jazz!

Imagine our surprise when Ratchet kicked us out and we found you offline in front of the Repair Bay. Prowl said you were worried about Sunny. You don't hafta worry about him anymore. Our dear ol' Ratchet had our resident sunflower back to his cheery, brightly self on the same day. In fact, once the big softy got a good look at ya, he dragged you to the wash rack and gave ya a good scrubbing. With my dear charming self for help, of course. Sunny even donated some of his expensive cleaning supplies to get you clean. Guess that's his way of being thankful for worrying about him.

Ratchet would've had organic kittens if he saw Sunny walking around and being selfless, instead of going directly to the berth like he'd been instructed. Anyways, I brought you to your room and talked First Aid into fixing your leg for ya when I caught him grabbing a cube to drink. He says it's as good as new.

Thanks for caring and sorry for troubling ya:
The Twins

PS: Tell anyone we did any of this and we will beat you into scrap. Get it?

Jazz re-read the datapad and looked down at his clean hands and shiny frame. If only they knew . . .