Chapter : Three
Summary : When someone thinks that it can't get any worse than this, fate has a funny way of telling you, oh yes it can.
Warnings : Torture
Series : AU Bayverse, early in the war...
AN : I want to personally thank all of you wonderful readers for the lovely comments and PM. You humble me with your kind words. Thank you :)
Beta'd by the wonderful GraceSolo.
A lone prisoner was sitting in the Decepticon's brig. He was resting on his back, his wings now so numb he could barely feel them. He looked down where a small organic was resting next to him, taking in the warmth offered by his frame. He gently brushed a finger over the sleeping form. It was called a human, Prowl thought. At least he thought it was called that way because Jazz kept pointing at himself, repeating 'human'.
Jazz had spent three days in the presence of Prowl. But for the Autobots' SIC he had spent merely half an Orn with the human. In that time he was able to form a pattern – Jazz was able to stay online for about two joors and then sleep for two joors as well. In that short time, he was able to form a rudimentary language with the organic, but nothing more. Not with his battle computer offline.
As Prowl removed his hand from Jazz, he couldn't help but frown. Both of them were dying. He knew it. His deactivation was only a matter of time. Soon all of the information he possessed would be useless and the Decepticons would have no further need of him. He looked down at the organic, his advanced senses even this damaged able to determine that Jazz has lost weight. He had brought very little food with himself and was consuming very little, trying to preserve it.
Prowl scooted Jazz even closer when he felt him shiver. That artificial fur on Jazz wasn't enough to keep him warm – space was cold, even for Cybertronians. That was the reason why they kept a descent temperature on spaceships. But he was in a 'cons ship, where it was slightly colder, especially in the brig.
He looked over at the camera. The only reason why the Decepticons didn't remove Jazz was because, for them, he was just a useless rodent. They wouldn't think much of it when Prowl tried speaking with him. Another thing, Prowl thought – Jazz was extremity lucky that there was oxygen on this ship. They were not organics, so air wasn't a factor for them. But they prefer if there was oxygen in the air – it was more beneficial for their vents.
Prowl sighed, he was yet to enter his recharge mode but wanted Jazz to online for that. He had to prepare him. For Jazz it would be quite long before Prowl on-lined again and the Praxian wanted to inform him. But the ex-enforcer feared that once he got back online Jazz would be gone, or worse. And that was something Prowl didn't want to risk. It may seem unbelievable, but the SIC realized that interacting with Jazz, slowly learning about him – simply filling his time with something to do, was the only thing keeping him sane and from using his kill code.
Prowls train of thought was interrupted when he saw Jazz waking up. The smaller form stirred, muttered something and the Praxian observed as the human slowly rise.
"Mornin' Star" Jazz muttered and Prowl watched as the human went in his hole to leave his droppings (for which Prowl was truly grateful).
Prowl gave a nod in simple acknowledgment. The black and white knew that Star was the name the little one had given him, Prowl not knowing how to translate his own name. Jazz kept pointing at his Enforcers badge on his door wings that was in the shape of a star – and thus the name Star.
Prowl didn't mind at all.
Once Jazz was back, he sat cross-legged. The SIC was tempted to ask if that was uncomfortable – because for his kind, it truly looked that way.
Jazz pulled all of his things out of the bag, which wasn't much. The human sighed.
"We really are in deep shit, eh Star?" Jazz muttered again eying his food that was dangerously low. He had eaten all of the muffins he took from Mr. Brown. He had only a couple of Snickers bars, a bag of chips and a bag of peanuts. And only one small bottle of water. He did not plan on going "camping" and didn't bring much with him.
"Want some, Star?" He offered his chips to Prowl. During his stay here Jazz hasn't seen Prowl consume anything at all.
Prowl politely declined by shaking his head. "Thought so." Jazz sighed and resumed his eating. While doing so he opened his side pocket and pulled out his phone and iPod. He was lucky he had a spare battery for the phone, because it was almost all spent up.
"Look, that's ma family." Jazz showed Prowl a picture of his family. "That's Mom, Dad and lil' sis." He pointed at them.
Prowl observed the picture, knowing it was Jazz's family, due to the resemblance he had with them. He smiled and nodded in understanding. Jazz continued showing him pictures and saying stuff. Most of the time, Prowl was able to understand him.
The Praxian reached over and was glad when Jazz didn't flinch back, the small one having grown used to his presence. Prowl offered his hand after pointing at the phone and Jazz obliged.
"Whoa!" The human exclaimed when images started flowing on the screen. Giant cities, more robots, starts, galaxies, but the thing that captured his attention was the crystal gardens.
"Beautiful." Jazz spoke and Prowl added the new word he now understood to his ever growing human dictionary.
"Praxus." Prowl spoke. "Home."
Jazz smiled sadly. "Yeah, I miss home too." He stopped eating, leaving the rest of the chips for later. "And when Ah go home, Ah'm giving Mr. Brown a piece of mah mind." He grumbled out. That is, if he ever got home. He briefly wondered if his parents were looking for him. But then a bitter part of him asked if they even noticed his disappearance. He shook that dark thought away and grinned at Prowl when he asked:
"Sing?"
"For ya, always!" He placed the ear plugs in his ears and started playing a song, since he didn't know the lyrics very well and needed to hear the rhythm.
As the song started, Prowl gave a tiny smile of appreciation. No one would have noticed the smile but Jazz saw it, knowing where to look for it. The human almost lost his rhythm when Prowl slowly leaned over and picked him up, placing him close to his chest. While singing Jazz noted that the chest was the warmest part of his body and as he placed a hand over it, he felt it pulse.
Prowl off-lined his optics, enjoying the 'music', he recalled Jazz saying. He wanted to explain to Jazz, that since their language was consistent of simple beeps, klicks and whistles no actual words were sung – their culture only has sound, no words. And that was the reason he came to love Jazz's music – because it had words. He may not understand them, but they were still there, making his spark hum in appreciation.
Later on, as they were occupying themselves, Prowl and Jazz were having similar thoughts. One question remained – what were they going to do now? Because quite frankly they were just sitting there, doing nothing and waiting for the end. Neither of them liked that thought.
Jazz had kept himself busy by either singing to Prowl or cleaning his plating, having nothing better to do with his time. While Prowl was faced with the same problem, chosing to fill his time by trying to compose a language with all of the words he had translated to far.
"Man," Jazz, like normal started talking while cleaning Prowl's plating with the huge cloth, "Ah think the thing I miss most is showers and hot water." He muttered. "Actually, wait. No. That comes after toilet paper. After I get home Ah'm barricading myself with the stuff." He bitterly laughed to himself.
"Toilet paper?" Prow questioned, trying to find meaning in the word. Jazz laughed again, but this time with more amusement in it.
"Think nothing of it Star. Ah-" But he was cut when Prowl quickly plucked him up and placed him behind his huge back. Jazz was about to protest about the harsh treatment when the doors to the brig opened. Jazz felt Prowl shudder and he couldn't help but tremble himself when he saw who walked in.
"Ahh, what a beautiful end of the orn. You should see it Prowl, we're passing by a sun and it's even more beautiful. I'm sure a Praxian like you would appreciate the light show." Gundrop smiled but there was something twisted about that smile.
"That is hard to accomplish with me being here. Locked." Prowl said while eying the Decepticons' SIC. He had to find a way to get Jazz to his 'safe zone'.
"Indeed you're right." Gundrop knelt in front of Prowl. "You're a pretty little thing, you know?" He ran the back of his hand over Prowl's cheek.
"I am anything but little." Prowl spat, disgusted. With his battle computer offline it was hard keeping his emotions in check. "I am bigger in frame than you."
"Che, always the literal one, aren't you?" He looked at Prowl's hands that were hidden behind his back.
"Care to introduce me to your friend there?" The 'con asked in utter sweetness. But Prowl saw through this facade. He pondered on it but knew he had no choice. If he refused, Jazz could be forcefully taken from him – that increased the risk of injury. A risk Prowl was not willing to take.
Jazz yelped when he felt himself being lifted again. He did not appreciate that - being handled like a doll. But he didn't have time to feel irritated as he looked directly in the red visor of the other robot in the room.
"S-Star?" He asked, a plea hidden in the name and couldn't keep the shiver out of his voice.
"Prowl! I never expected a 'bot of your rank to have a soft spot for pets!" The con roughly snatched the human. "Especially for rodents."
Prowl resisted the urge to grow. He tightened his fists to prevent himself from attacking the 'con when he squeezed Jazz and the human started coughing. He knew that if he showed even the slightest amount of affection towards Jazz it was all over for the organic.
"So, how did you name it?" Gundrop asked as he held Jazz upside down by his foot.
"...Jazz. And I'm sure he doesn't appreciate you holding him like that."
"Oho, so it's a he!" The con shifted Jazz upright. "What species is he?"
"I don't know. Some sort of a rodent." Prowl answered and watched Jazz regain his breath.
Gundrop smiled but there was more to that smile. "Relax, Prowl." The 'con observed Prowl. "If he is a mere rodent, then why are you so concerned?" Jazz let out a strangled cry of pain once the 'con held him tighter again, his ribs protesting.
"S-Star..ghhh...h-help..ghhh!" He chocked.
"I didn't know you enjoyed torturing small, none-sentient rodents Gundrop. That is low, even for you." Prowl spoke. He had to make the Decepticons' SIC lose interest in Jazz if he was to survive.
However the moment those words left his vocalizer Prowl found himself pinned to the wall behind him, a hand crushing his troth.
Gundrop had let go of Jazz and was now focusing his attention to Prowl. The human was lucky he was dropped from a low high. His already crushed ribs protested but he was able to scramble to his feet and flee to his 'safe zone'. Once there, he observed the other robot torture Prowl. He shivered both from fear and pain. He licked his lips only to taste blood.
"I don't want to die." He muttered to himself. He looked over at Prowl, his cries of pain were making his heart clench. "Please don't leave me Star..." He begged in the quiet of the night that was pierced by the cries of pain of the tortured 'bot.
Jazz didn't remember when he passed out but when he came to, only silence greeted him. He swayed a bit and winced when his ribs protested. He pressed a hand to his chest and silently cried out in pain. A couple of his ribs were cracked but right now he couldn't concern himself with that. He needed to find Prowl and make sure he was alive.
He peeked out of his hiding place, fearing that the evil robot was still there. But he only found the slumped form of Prowl, who did not look well at all.
"Star!" He yelled and tried to hurry over there but the pain stopped him from running. But that did not stop him from trying. He limped his way there and fell on his knees in front of Prowls face.
"Oh Star..." He whimpered. Prowl was in a sorry state, to say the least. Pink fluids were dripping from ...everywhere. He wanted to help somehow, anyhow! He pondered if he could touch it? Was it dangerous to his skin. Was is like gasoline the pink substance?
"God, please be okay, please be okay..." A trembling hand reached offer and gently stroked the cold cheek.
"...Star?" A tear fell from his face. And then another. And another. "Ah don't want you to die." He whimpered. He was just an 18 year old boy. True, he was legally an adult, but even as one, he was sure no one would be prepared for a situation like this one.
He sniffed as he gently found his way to the crook of Prowl's neck, right between his shoulder and head. As he snuggled his way there, his ribs protesting but Jazz didn't care.
"Y-You're not alone." He whispered but knew the other couldn't hear him. "We're in this together." He said softly as he slowly started to sing a lullaby.
I'm trying to keep this as realistic as possible. Hope it came out okay...
PS : Did anyone notice that this is Bay-verse and yet there's a G1 'con in Jazz's body? *wink*
Orn = 1 Cybertronian Day = 12 joors
1 joor = 6 human hours
Jazz had spent 72 Earth hours there a.k.a 3 Earth days. In Cybertronian time that is equal to 6 joors, half an Orn in the presence of Prowl.
I explained this to show that time truly is different for them. Things may move slow Jazz but for Prowl, he quickly grows fond of the organic.
Vorn = 82 earth years
Deca – cycle = an Earths month
Meta-cycle = an Earths week
Orn = Day
Joor = One hour
Breems = Minutes
Klicks = Seconds
Jasper's speech is in italics since Prowl doesn't understand him very well (and to show that it's English) Jazz is not acting like our well know 'Jazz'. He is still very young and in time you'll see how he's shaped in the saboteur we all love :)
Thank you for reading. Comments are adored ^^