Disclaimer: I own nothing and I gain nothing.

Warnings: We've reached chapter 18, do I still have to say this has slash?

A/N: Thanks to all the people that take the time to review. I know I take long to update, but I haven't forgotten about you. Any horrible mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them.

"talk"

line - time lapse

Recovery

Everything hurt and his optics weren't working. That was the first thing he noticed as soon as he went online. The second thing he noticed was that his vocalizer wasn't working either and his body was tied down to prevent movement. Now where in the Pit was he?

"Are they going to be alright, Ratchet?" – The voice of Optimus Prime filled his audios and he relaxed. Apparently he'd been dragged to Ratchet for repairs, yet again.

Someone sighed and Ratchet's voice, strangely low and tired-sounding, reached him, - "They almost didn't make it. As it is, Blaster's memory banks were damaged. Hope the kid had some back ups somewhere, 'cause I would bet my favorite laser scalpel that his files are now corrupted and I'll have to install a new memory unit. Primus only knows how much vital information we've lost."

There was silence for a few minutes and he felt like screaming. In fact, he tried to scream, but nothing came out. At last Prime spoke again. – "Once he's online and running he'll work on that. I'm not thrilled with the prospect of losing so much, but at least we haven't lost anyone yet. Their attacks are not only getting more frequent, but they're getting even more random."

"They're running us ragged before taking us down and so far it's working." – Replied Ratchet's voice and he had to agree with the medic. They've had more battles in the last two months than in the six months prior. They barely had time to recharge before been sent to fight again.

"How's Jazz?" – Prime's voice took him out of his musing.

"Slag it, Prime! You just had to remind me of him!" – Ratchet's annoyed cry came to his audios. He didn't think he was bad enough to deserve such a statement and resented being unable to protest. – "The long lost missing brother of our twin toasters is going to live. I'm guessing to run headfirst into the first Decepticon he finds. If it wasn't because I know their insides better than anyone, I'd swear they were triplets!"

Prime's laughter echoed around the room. At least someone found it funny. There was silence for a few minutes and Prime's amusement seemed to have vanished by then. Because the next time he spoke, it was in his most serious tone.

"We thought we lost him."

He was sure his systems quivered under that tone. Had he really been so close to death?

"It's not every day that a mech gets torn in half. His spark almost didn't make it, but that piece of junk made it through." – Ratchet replied softly. The CMO really knew how to make a Bot feel special; he thought sarcastically while the medic continued talking. - "I just hope those two walking clowns don't start getting ideas or it will be me that deactivates them."

Did they even notice he was online? Apparently not, but he was too tired to care and the inability to see, speak and move was too irritating. At least now he knew he wasn't going to die. Two months of constant warfare was too much. He'd onlined more times in medbay than in his own quarters. Primus! The twins were standing by sheer stubbornness. Prowl's tactical computer was almost fried. Everyone was entering the battlefield tired, undercharged, in pain and repaired just enough to ensure they would not keel over by malpractice. Things were going down to the Pit fast. The least he could do is getting advantage of the recharge time this last injury gave him.

When he went back online he was still mute, blind and paralyzed, but at least the pain had ceased and his energy levels were the highest they've been in two months. He was grateful for the sound of voices nearby. Ratchet's and Blaster's.

"Think you can get everything back?" – The medic asked.

"No prob, my man. I'll have everything back in a few weeks. The hardcore stuff will need more time, but I got it covered." – Their Communications Officer replied. If he remembered correctly, Ratchet mentioned something about Blaster's memory banks.

"What's the last thing on your banks, Blaster?" – The medic questioned.

"Hmm. . . There was a prank war between you and the twins. I remember when you rigged the washracks so paint would come out and the resident Sunshine a nice lime green." – The tape deck said slowly. – "I believe I heard Sideswipe talkin' bout getting a femme voice modulator from Swindle. Everythin' after that has gone with the wind."

"That was two years ago. They stopped bothering me with that kind of stupidity after they realized their lives depend on me. They've been bothering Prowl ever since then." – Ratchet told him calmly, his voice fading out. The silence stretched for minutes and he guessed they left him alone.

Two years! That was before the accident and the whole investigation thingy. Primus really loved him! He'd been unable to get access to Blaster's files and things, due to the increased number of attacks. But just before his last battle, the Ark had been hit heavily and Blaster's quarters, along with all that side of the ship, had been destroyed. He'd taken the liberty of 'checking out' the damage and done his part in 'cleaning' the debris out. Now, with Blaster's memory damage everything was over. Once Ratchet has enough time to install the new memory into the Communication's Officer it would be easy for him to ensure it was lost. Now he could explain everything. He would be with Soundwave soon.

It took him four more days for Ratchet to find the pieces he needed to fix him up and deem him fit enough to get slagged again. Apparently his visor had been smashed and his vocalizer just loved throwing a fit every time he got injured. Nothing major when you were torn in half by a falling building. By that time, Jazz had managed to make a nice datapad with all the information included.

He didn't had much of a plan, but so far it included catching one of his lover's Cassettes and 'negotiating' the safe delivery of said datapad into his lover's hands. Soundwave would hopefully not destroy it on sight. Jazz now couldn't suppress the image of him starring in one of those human soap operas Ironhide loves to watch when no one's around. Why couldn't things be simpler for a mech in love?

Unfortunately he didn't had time to ponder the answer of that question, nor making a better plan for mission: Datapad Delivery a.k.a. DD Mission. He didn't even had time to make a cool name for his personal mission. Just a few hours after he'd been freed from the clutches of their cranky CMO, he'd been called back to action.