Title: It's Not Funny, chapter 3 of 4
Author: Koi Lungfish
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations from The Transformers ((c) 1986 Hasbro, Ltd). Used without permission. Text (c) 2008, Koi Lung Fish (Mark of Lung. All Rights Reserved.)
Subject: A domestic abuse charity ask Jazz to help them reach out to Starscream.
Continuity: G1 cartoon, late season 2.

Chapter 3 of 4

WARNING: implicit slash, explicit violence


"I think I found him," Sideswipe said a million miles away.

"Rivets," said Sunstreaker, the sound of his voice swimming with distortion. "Start digging."

The sense of his own body returned the moment Sideswipe started up his jackhammers, shaking his entire frame. "Gnnnaaaargggh!" Jazz managed.

"Oh hey, he's awake," Sideswipe said. Jazz's visor flickered back into functionality and he found himself staring up at Sideswipe between a mess of girders and broken concrete. "Hi Jazz!"

"Yo Joe Lambo!" Jazz said, coughing clouds of powdered concrete out of his vents. It seemed weirdly dark, even considering the tons of rubble on top of him. "Anyone wanna tell me what happened?"

"Starscream," said Sunstreaker, hefting one of the girders off him. "Happened. Loudly. Everywhere."

"He exploded?" Jazz said, giggling.

"Yes," Sunstreaker said, tossing another girder aside.

Jazz noticed both of his rescuers were filthy and covered in singe marks. "He get the controls for the power lances?" he asked, remembering his original objective.

"No," Sunstreaker said. He and Sideswipe got their hands under Jazz's arms and hauled him up, out of his cocoon of concrete.

Jazz turned to Sunstreaker. "Since when were you Mr. Monosyllabic?"

Sunstreaker punched him in the abdomen.

Jazz felt his armour buckle, the blow lifting him clean off his feet. He went down hard, face to the concrete, hitched up in a ball of surprise and pain. He heard Sideswipe shout "No!" and the sound of a scuffle, felt Sunstreaker's foot hitting the ground near his face. Did Sunstreaker almost just kick me?

Sunstreaker grabbed him and dragged him back to his feet again. "Listen, you dumb son of a Volvo, Prime wants your aft back in the Ark an hour ago and right now if he had asked for your head I'd be happy to bring it home in a cube!"

Jazz boggled. "What the 'hex, Sunstreaker?"

"You looked around yet?" Sunstreaker asked, jostling him.

Jazz looked.

All around lay devastation. Every warehouse was flattened, everything that could burn was aflame. The sky was thick with towering smoke, the ground gouty with craters. The ragged bluffs where the Decepticon power lances had stood were spread across the valley in splatters of hot rubble, dribbles of molten stone still running down towards the steaming, stinking river. The few buildings that had stood before the battle began were now only cracked foundations. Somewhere, beyond some pile of smouldering rubble, someone was moaning in pain.

In the distance the sirens of fire engines wailed. Black fingers of smoke drifted across the far side of the sky, pointing out gaping holes in the skyline of the city nearby.

" ... the 'hex?" Jazz asked.

"Starscream," Sunstreaker said, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him towards the road. "Happened. Loudly. Everywhere."

"Yeah, what the bolting 'hex did you do, Jazz?" Sideswipe asked, tossing an I-beam aside and following after them.

"I - I just ... it was a joke, that's all," Jazz said, in a voice that felt as small as he did amongst the enormity of the consequences around him.


The drive back to the Ark was undertaken without speech, Jazz boxed in by the Lamborghinis, Sideswipe in the lead and Sunstreaker in the rear. It only took half a mile for Jazz to feel the first bump, a sharp nip at his tyres as Sunstreaker's front end crept under his back bumper and nudged him, oomph! He hunkered down on his shocks and tried to ignore it, a nasty feeling circling through his systems like a virus.

Oomph! Sunstreaker bumped him again.

He gonna do this all the way back to the Ark? Jazz wondered. A sensation of impending doom began to filter into his circuits. Most likely. Man, Prime's gonna grind my audios off for this ... I hope ...

There were flashing lights behind them. Jazz popped up on his shocks to try and see over Sunstreaker but the warrior's big engine funnels got in the way. He could just make out the cab of a fire engine approaching. Red Alert's sirens whooped behind Sunstreaker for a second in greeting. Inferno was following behind him, his engine sweating diesel from the strain of keeping up with the security chief.

Dunno how he stands the pace with ol' Red sometimes, Jazz thought, the first flickers of a smile beginning.

"Hey there, chief," Sideswipe called.

(Sideswipe,) Red Alert replied.

"Everything under control back there?"

(It is not under control. There is nothing left to be controlled. We are simply organizing the disaster. Inferno and I are heading for the city to help with the rescue operation. Optimus Prime is sending everyone out along the damage line to help, even the Dinobots.)

"Even the New York patrol?" Sideswipe asked.

Oomph! went Sunstreaker's bumper against his tyres. Jazz yelped.

(They're busy where they are,) Red Alert replied, his tone dark and guarded. (I understand Optimus has sent the Aerialbots out in support.)

(Red Alert?) Sunstreaker called, the first thing he'd said since they left the battleground. (You hear any update on Bluestreak?)

Jazz's tanks lurched and he wobbled on the road. I left Bluestreak outside when I went in to have my little coffee klatch with Starscream. Man, I hope nothing bad happened to him.

(The injuries aren't as bad as first feared, although he will need a new arm,) Red Alert said. (But Ratchet thinks it will be a day or two before the trauma loops in his main cortex break down enough for his higher cognitive functions to auto-restart.)

Oomph!

Jazz yelped as Sunstreaker rammed him in the back tyres. "Hey!"

"Shut up," Sunstreaker snapped. "If Bluestreak can't talk then neither can you."


Author's notes & addenda: Feedback always welcomed.