Prowl woke up finding himself unwilling to do anything.

His hips were stained, his doorwings still tingled and he felt like lead. Summoning the energy to move, he lifted his hand with the marker on it and quietly scrutinized it.

While many would most likely be mad, even furious that they'd been locked down and bound to someone else after a one-night stand, Prowl found himself not being able to care. He was the kind of person whom nobody thought much off. What they did think was more often than not rude, often dancing on the line of Prowl being a drone or a malfunction. Not that the mech minded at all. The more people stayed away the better. There would be no distractions from his work and he could complete his duty.

As his infamy and lack of emotional responses may suggest, Prowl didn't have anyone he was close enough with to call anything more than a friend. Of course, there was always his family, but as to whether or not they were simply just tolerating him until he moved out Prowl didn't know, and he found himself not particularly caring either.

And so, Prowl was wondering what to do with the situation he had found himself in.

Suddenly, he was a bonded mech (Prowl was thankful that it wasn't a spark bond – he didn't think he'd be able to take a somewhat-stranger being able to feel his emotions and know what he was thinking at any given moment) and he had a sworn duty to them. He had to protect them, he had to be there for them, and most of all, the one Prowl feared the most, he had to love them.

Love was not something Prowl did.

He cared about others. Despite his outward demeanor he cared about everyone. It was why he had the job he did – an enforcers sworn duty was protect and serve. They were the three words he lived by.

Prowl could only hope Jazz wouldn't get too upset about this. Upsetting the mech was the last thing he wanted to do.


Jazz slowly staggered back to his room.

In the early hours of the morning, before the stars had fully risen, Jazz had been summoned by the Alpha. Sleepily shaking off the last dregs of recharge, Jazz made his way down to the chamber the Alpha usually resided in to be promptly met with his pede smacking him down into the ground.

And it had all gone downhill from there.

The hostile mech hadn't held back, and Jazz was starting to wonder how much worse it could have been if the Alpha had punished him the moment he had found out he was a bonded mech.

He wouldn't have seen Prowl, that's for sure.

While he did want to leave the den and crawl back into Prowls berth, hopefully with the other mech, his survival instinct was telling him that it was a terrible idea and he should stay in the den if he wanted his helm to stay firmly connected to his shoulders.

A few moments after he'd managed to fall onto his berth, Jazz began lazily searching for the medical kit he always kept nearby. As a general unspoken rule of his pack, if you were injured through crossing the Alpha, you were on your own. So, Jazz was expecting no obvious sympathy from anyone, nor was he expecting any help.

Although he'd never admit it, at least not aloud, he missed Prowl.


Everything was silent.

It wasn't the kind of silence that curled around you in an attempt to swallow you, stifling and leaving you gasping for breath. No, this silence was empty. If a pin were to drop, it would most likely echo.

The stars had long ago sunk below the horizon, allowing the feeble light cast by the multitude of moons that orbited the planet to bathe over the landscape with their milky glow.

Then, the spell was broken as a small group of three mechs noisily made their way through the brambles. A few of the brambles had fragments of a red fabric caught in their thorns, and one of the mechs tore it away to inspect it.

"He definitely passed through here." They said, lifting it up. Another mech, who was blue and red with a yellow chevron and doorwings hiked high up on his back turned to inspect it and immediately nodded.

"Yep. That's Prowls."

"What do you think the chances of him disabling the trap are?" The third mech asked, inspecting the sliced branches of the bramble that Prowl had cut two nights ago.

The red and blue mech shrugged. "I haven't the slightest. He only knows the bare minimum. What we were told as younglings, basically. He couldn't have known it was there, nor what it was."

"Well, at least your assumptions were correct. There is a den in this forest."

"Excellent. I wonder if there will be any with bounties?"

"I heard the Alpha does. He's not one you want to get into a fight on your own with."

"I'm sure if we corner him on his own we'll be okay." The blue mech replied. "Hound, see if you can track the scent in the trap. Mirage, scout with him. Watch his back."

Mirage nodded and activated his disrupter, melting away from view and turning invisible. Hound knelt down by the trap and delicately sniffed it before exhaling gently and filling his intakes with his next breath. "Should I call you when I've located the den?"

"Yep. I'll have to be going back now so it doesn't get suspicious. The others are under the impression we're here on visiting terms."

"Be seeing you later then. Take care."

"Same to you, make sure nobody sees you."

And with that, the blue and red mech turned on his heels and strode away, whistling a tune he had heard that morning on the radio as if he were just taking a stroll through the forest before recharge.


His hand was aching.

Jazz hissed and flinched as a sharp barb of pain shot through his hand, making his wrist and fingers spasm. This was painful.

As it was, Jazz couldn't leave. Nobody could, not even the Alpha. Not within the forest, anyway. There were tunnels – ancient, yes, but they weren't collapsed just yet – and they lead away and outside into the town.

Jazz could still remember the town from when he was young, before the barrier was erected to lock him and mecha like him inside the forest. The different smells and the colours and the ones who lived there. None of them knew any better and often treated the youngling to energon goodies and scraps of whatever they could spare.

The tunnels were open for them to freely use – for whatever reason, the barrier didn't seem to affect them – however they were closely guarded by the Alpha and they were reluctant for them to be used. They were old, older than the elders, however they still held strong.

The only problem with them was that they were built like a labyrinth.

The true path was long worn into the floor through use, however many still strayed from the path and were never seen again.

Given the dens lockdown state, the Alpha was even more reluctant to let his mechs use the ancient tunnels. There were a mere handful of mechs who were still willing to go into the town anyway, given the threat of the hunters that were lurking around above ground, so the tunnels remained relatively unused.

However, given the throbbing pain in his hand, Jazz was contemplating going to ask permission to see Prowl and ease the insistent reminder on his palm.


The Alpha was surprisingly understanding and allowed Jazz to leave through the tunnels.

Absently, Jazz realized that the Alpha himself was a marked and bonded mech, even going as far as to form a Spark-bond with another. Their mate was rarely seen, however, but Jazz knew that they were still alive.

Jazz transformed back from his vehicle mode into his bipedal, and took ten steps into the town before he was suddenly grabbed and tugged into an alley with a loud yelp.

A hand suddenly clasped down over his mouth, muffling any sound that threatened to escape, and Jazz was incredibly tempted to lick it. Not that it'd get him anywhere, but hopefully if they were disgusted enough they would let go.

Jazz began to struggle, limbs flailing everywhere, before his arms were pinned to his sides by an arm wrapping around his middle.

"Stop it." the other mech hissed into his audial. "You'll give us away!"

Jazz immediately stopped resisting when he recognized the language the other spoke. They weren't a normal mech.

Slowly, Jazz turned his head to look at the mech behind him and started.

"Hound?"

Hound grinned meekly and carefully let Jazz go, setting him gently to the ground again. "It's been a while."

"We all thought ya were dead, mech!"

"No, not dead. Although I will be when the Alpha finds out what I've done. He despises me anyway."

"Hey, not ya fault ya a halflin'."

Hound shifted uneasily. "It's not just that, Jazz. You see, while I was… away, I met a mech called Mirage. He introduced me to some other people who seemed interested in my abnormal sense of smell."

"What did ya do?" Jazz asked, a sense of foreboding settling over him.

"I joined them on a few trips. They told me they were just hunting animals, and I believed them up until I found a scent I recognized. I didn't realize just what they were hunting until it was too late."

"They were huntin' us, weren't they." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. And now, I've caught onto your scent. I distracted Mirage and sent him off to the other side of the forest to scout ahead for me, but I don't have much time. I've got to go soon."

"Hound, what are ya gunna do? Ya can't just expose the den-"

"There are old dens I can lead them to, hope that they get lost or pretend that the trail goes cold. If not, then it's predicted to rain tomorrow. The scents will be washed away." Hound replied, uneasily looking around himself.

"Do what ya can. Ah won't tell the Alpha if ya don't want me to."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Understood." Jazz grinned. "It's good ta see ya again, even if ya… well, ya didn't know. Ah can't blame ya."

"I will never understand why you are so kind, but it's still great to see you too. I'm glad you're okay."

Jazz was about to reply when suddenly his hand flared up again, his fingers twitching and wrist flicking. Jazz hissed in pain, shoulders hunching slightly.

"Jazz? Are you okay? What's wrong- oh, Primus Jazz-!" Hound squeaked as he turned the twitching hand around and saw the dark marking on his palm. "You're marked? Who with? Was it Blaster? I remember you two were pretty close."

"No, not anyone from the pack. Not even part of one."

"An unchanged?" Hound quietly asked, fearing the answer he'd get. Jazz simply nodded, not trusting his vocalizer.

"Ah don't get it, it hasn't even been a full cycle." Jazz whimpered as his hand throbbed painfully again. He wondered if Prowl was having the same problems as he was.

"It's different between changed and unchanged." Hound replied, gently uncurling Jazz's digits from where they were clasped to his palm. "I remember my creators having the same issues."

"What did they do ta get it ta stop?"

"There's not much you can do. Over time the pain lessens each time you're separated, and you can go longer, but in the early days there's nothing to do but sit on the others lap and hope for the best."

"Somehow I doubt he's gunna let meh do that."

Hound simply shrugged and checked his chronometer before swearing aloud.

"Frag, I'm sorry Jazz. I've gotta go – Mirage is expecting me any minute."

"Nah mech, Ah understand. Just please, do not let the Alpha see ya with a bunch'a hunters."

"I'll try my best." Hound said, walking away from Jazz and towards the forest.

Jazz envied the mech. As a Halfling, he didn't need to worry about the barrier or changing when he saw a full moon. The worst he got was a bad case of the nibbles. Wincing at the persistent ache in his hand, Jazz slowly left the alley and plodded over to where Prowl was.