Fandom: Transformers G1/Bayverse
Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Jazz/Prowl, Jazz/Black Echo
Rating: NC-17 mech/mech
Codes: Crossover, Slash, off screen S&M,
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics ./290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
Notes: klik = 1 minute; breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 6.3 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles
~text~ bond/hardline talk
::text:: comm chatter

At All Costs 35: Pain to be Free

Prowl vented softly, pulling Jazz closer to him as he reached along the bond, looking without speaking for the moment. There had been changes in the mech in his arms recently, changes that bothered the Praxian because he could find no reason for them.

The normally cheerful minibot had gone quiet, aggressive in his own way, and practically twitching constantly. He would settle sometimes, after a good round of interfacing, but it never seemed to help for long, and the time it did help was growing shorter.

Finally Prowl gave up. "What is bothering you?"

"You aren't going to like it," Jazz countered, actually trying to avoid saying it. Nearly two centuries bonded and they had both settled in their new functions and with each other, but the few concessions that Prowl had asked for, that Jazz had welcomed, had come back to haunt the minibot.

"I do not like that it is causing you this level of distress." Prowl countered in turn, nuzzling gently at Jazz's helm, soothing and comforting as he reached out across the bond so that emotion flowed with the words.

~You can tell me, love.~ Adoration, love, and a reminder of the complete acceptance Prowl felt for his bonded.

Jazz lowered his helm, resting it over the spark he was so devoted to, that he loved enough to share.

~The pain, the beating ... I need it,~ Jazz barely dared to do more than whisper. ~I need the absolution it brings.~

A long sigh from Prowl as he listened to more than the words. ~Absolution from what love?~

~What I do ... I wasn't sparked an Op, a killer, a breaker of mechs,~ Jazz shuddered. ~I'm good at it thanks to Black Echo, but I'm not like him. My spark, my core coding, I can't do those things and not pay for it. I need to pay for it.~

~Balance.~ Prowl said, understanding far more than many would. He ran a hand over Jazz's armor gently, studying his bonded. ~And your solution is?~

He was sure he knew what Jazz was asking, but he wanted to hear it from the mech. Wanted it laid out for him, even though he would never deny Jazz anything his bonded truly needed or even simply wanted.

~Black Echo,~ he murmured with full knowledge of what Prowl thought of the mech. ~Know ya don't like him, don't trust him, but I do. He knows me, maybe better than you do in some ways. I never really grasped how much of those nights were for me, there to help me, until I didn't have him for a while. He's not my lover, but he gives me what I need. He takes care of me, takes care of his subordinate.~

Prowl weighed everything carefully, but in the end he knew what he was had to do, what he was going to do. Jazz was more important to him than any personal feelings he might have, his bonded's needs came before his own. And when Prowl could not fill those needs he was not going to ask Jazz to suffer for his shortcomings.

~Not your shortcomings, love,~ Jazz interrupted his thoughts with the fierce statement. ~No more than your love of Soundwave is my shortcoming.~

~Set a time love. Go see him.~ It hurt, even just the words, but Jazz's pain hurt more. ~And when he is done I will come get you.~

Jazz hesitated, uncertain he was prepared to have Prowl see just what state this left him in. He nodded slowly. ~Come with Ratchet. It won't be safe to move me yourself.~

~I will speak with him. You will need his care anyway.~ And Prowl would need someone to keep him from going and murdering the SIC, no matter how much his bonded apparently needed what was done to him. ~Just give me some warning once you have spoken to him. And come back to me.~

The same words whenever Jazz left him to do anything risky any more, a ritual by now that brought them both comfort.

~You'll have warning love,~ Jazz murmured, pressing into Prowl's frame. ~I don't want you alone ... just in case something leaks through the block.~ He squirmed up to claim Prowl's mouth tenderly. ~I will come back, love. I will always come back.~

~Thank you.~ Gentle hands wandered over Jazz frame, confirming every inch of the frame that the Praxian already knew intimately as Prowl kissed him.

Soft affection and gentle desire, the kind that always existed within Jazz, wrapped around Prowl's spark as the kiss deepened. A flicker of a thought, not even words, suggested merging. Not simply to confirm and strengthen their bond, but to be sure within each other that this was the right choice for them both and comfort the pain this need caused.

Prowl rolled to his back, taking Jazz with him so the smaller mech was laying across his chest, the Praxian's chest plates already parting in agreement and offering, spark craving the closeness of its mate and the comfort the other spark brought.

It seemed more orns than not Optimus wished for his relatively simple functioning as Orion the dockworker, or even Orion the Autobot warrior. Even though the memories before the Matrix claimed him were fuzzy at best, they maintained an overall content, happy feeling. This orn, however, he was immensely grateful that he was here to help support a mech who he was proud to call a friend and officer.

He was grateful that he was here, and not his predecessor. Sentinel was a guardian and honorable Prime, but a bitter, jaded one by the end of his time. He wasn't a mech that one turned to for support when the love of your existence, your very bonded, had needs you could not fulfill.

That led him to Ratchet's door early in the evening with the full knowledge that it would be a very late and very uneasy night with the two mechs.

Ratchet had warned him that the normally controlled and composed CTO and TIC that Optimus was used to occasionally took a back seat where Jazz was concerned. The medic had asked him to come before Prowl was supposed to arrive, and the door to Ratchet's quarters opened the moment he arrived, inviting him in.

Optimus stepped in far enough for the door to close and took in the familiar entry room, noting the furniture for the evening included chairs for a Praxian and the extra-large one Optimus' own large convoy-class frame.

"Ratchet," he inclined his helm to the other mech present.

"Optimus." Ratchet waved him farther in. "There is highgrade if you want some before Prowl arrives. He should be here within the joor."

The medic hoped tonight would go better than he was expecting. Hoped they could keep Prowl distracted from his worries and thoughts until the comm came to come retrieve Jazz. And hoped that Black Echo had the sense of self-preservation to be far away when they got Jazz back.

Prowl had only ever seen Jazz after Ratchet had completed his repairs and released Jazz back into his bonded's care, never fresh from a round with the SpecOps commander.

Optimus smiled at sat down, accepting the cube and settling in. "So what is the plan for tonight? Unlike you, I have doubts that Prowl becomes docile when heavily overcharged."

"Normally he does." Ratchet sighed. "Normally when he needs to talk he comes by, talks until he is too overcharged to continue having a real conversation- a state he actually knows when he has reached, surprisingly- comms Jazz, and Jazz whisks him off to deal with him. I've never tried it in this type of setting, and honestly I don't want to. He looses a lot of his self control when he is overcharged, and that could just as easily swing the other way."

He indicated another set of energon cubes. "Those are for when he gets here. Unless he drinks all of those that grade won't do more than put a very mild charge on his systems.

Optimus hummed his understanding. "Do you know how long will we need to distract him?"

A real wince crossed Ratchet's features. "Probably until dawn, maybe longer. Even when it was a regular occurrence they took joors. This time ... it could well be more than a full orn. Though to be honest, I intend to sedate him if it looks to be going that long."

They both paused as Prowl pinged the door and it opened for him. It was half a surprise when Jazz was right there, making sure he sat down, had a cube in hand and a long tender kiss before the silver mech retreated out the door to his own evening.

The quick, pleading look cast Ratchet's way by Jazz on his way out the door was not missed by the medic, who turned his attention on his second guest before the door was completely closed.

"Prowl."

"Ratchet." The Praxian answer was immediate, coherent, and for the moment normal. "Prime." Prowl moved on, nodding his helm respectfully. Golden optics were clear, the only visible distress in the Praxian was in the set of his sensor wings, held tense and too close to his frame for what was supposed to be a pleasant evening among friends.

A cube of mid-grade was passed to Prowl, who inspected it carefully before taking a sip and setting aside the cube of highgrade that Jazz had handed him before he left.

"None of us want you overcharged tonight," Ratchet said firmly, then made himself relax and extended his field to brush against Prowl's. "You're among friends, Prowl. Friends who know what's really going on with you, Jazz, Soundwave and the rest."

"I...thank you." Prowl vented softly, sincerity answering in his own field as looked at his friends. "I will need to remember that, as the evening goes on."

Venting again, Prowl visibly forced himself to relax, seeking and finding a center of calm developed over vorns of practice.

"What would you like to do, to remain distracted?" Optimus asked gently as he sipped on his own high-grade cube.

"Talking is fine for now." Prowl murmured, his attention drifting to Ratchet. "How are things between you and Wheeljack working out?"

The CMO huffed. "When he's not damaging himself, they're good," he admitted. "Maybe a little better than good. It's not what you and Jazz have, though. Or even Optimus and Ultra Magnus for that matter."

"Anyone else involved?" Prowl asked, slightly amused at the qualification Ratchet had used, somewhat familiar with the engineer/inventors unintentional self-mutilation tendencies. He was glad that Ratchet had someone to distract him from his own stresses.

"Maybe," Ratchet muttered to Optimus' low chuckle. "He hasn't decided about me yet. But I doubt he'll be content with only Wheeljack for long."

"Oh?" Prowl prodded gently, relaxing more as the conversation piqued his interest, poking at Ratchet something that usually distracted him rather effectively. The medic had been a good friend to him since he had joined the Autobots, something that Prowl would never forget.

"Skyfire's Seeker kin, heavy on the Seeker," Ratchet explained. "He may not need the trine like they do, but the desire for it's still there."

Prowl hummed thoughtfully, considering. He had not had a lot to do with the Seeker kin personally, though most of what he heard had the giant mech pinned as a good one- intelligent, even keeled and steady. A good match for Wheeljack and not such a bad thing for Ratchet.

"How serious is he about Wheeljack?"

Ratchet rippled his armor in a shrug. "Fairly serious. They've been together longer than Wheeljack and I have."

Prowl's wings twitched gently in amusement. "He'll come around."

"Most likely," Ratchet agreed. "It's been longer than most trine courtships, and Skyfire's big enough to actually survive in that disaster zone Wheeljack refers to as a workshop. The question is what was I thinking getting involved with that nut-case."

"I do not know, but given my situation I would not be a good one to ask." Prowl pointed out, very familiar with the fact that love didn't always make sense, nor did the desires of the spark.

"Oh, I don't know," Ratchet smiled at him. "Seems you're the perfect one to ask, given you've got the same WTF situation to most optics, but I know how good you've got it. Jazz doesn't just love you, he utterly adores you."

Another flutter of sensor wings, this time of embarrassment. "A fact of which I am very thankful, even if I don't understand why." Prowl confessed, taking another drink of the energon.

"Likely the same reaction Jazz has towards your feelings for him," Prime rumbled softly. "I can see how much you adore him and how amazed he it at it."

Prowl shrugged, still not completely understanding what made him attractive to Jazz, other than his simple acceptance of the mech as he was. Acceptance that made perfect sense to Prowl, given that Prowl loved Jazz as he was and valued everything that Jazz gave him.

"My tactical computer now redirects things that cannot be explained by logic, so I still have no explanation for them. My feelings for Jazz and Soundwave both fall under things that it now ignores." He looked at Ratchet. "There is at least some logic behind your position."

"There is?" Ratchet cycled his optics.

"You said yourself Skyfire is Seeker kin. If he desires a trine and cares for Wheeljack he would at least take Wheeljack's feelings into consideration. If Wheeljack cares for you it is only logical for Skyfire to seriously consider you as the third he is seeking." Prowl explained simply, looking from the medic to the Prime as he tried to understand why the conclusion would be surprising.

"Your battle computer has no issues assessing emotional connections for others," Prime chuckled. "Though as is my experience, it is always easier to understand a relationship you are not part of. I find yours with Jazz quite understandable."

That admission was enough to leave Prowl staring in surprise. "If you understand it, you may be the first. I was constantly informed before I bonded with Jazz, and still am on occasion, that my affections for a pleasurebot defy explanation."

"Most mechs find it difficult to grasp not wishing some level of exclusiveness with a committed partner," Optimus smiled. "However you were brought into what was normal by a pleasurebot and a High Priest. Two functions that simply do not work that way. More so, few mechs grasp just how far Jazz has come from his original programming. It is common knowledge that pleasurebots cannot love, just as they cannot hate. Such emotions are generally detrimental to their function, not unlike how empathy is limited and loyalty exaggerated in sparked warriors. To all but the few who truly know Jazz, he could not love you, so you are a fool to love him.

"I know better. You balance each other in many ways. Jazz pushes you to exist beyond your function, beyond your base programming. You provide a stability and calmness to him that he has long craved, even before he understood what it was he was seeking. Together you are each far stronger than you ever were on your own. It has been a pleasure to watch."

Prowl's optics went dark as he considered this. Whether it was his background or some intentional working of Primus, he had all the 'exclusiveness' he required. Jazz's spark was his in bond, a level allowed no other mech, and Prowl held the minibot's promise to always return, oath given with nothing of the same originally expected in return.

From Soundwave he had the promise they would be together again eventually. Promise that had tempted him for just a moment to leave this active functioning when his spark had been convinced there was no reason to remain. A path that Prowl had been rescued from vorns ago.

"Thank you." He murmured, optics coming back online before either of the mechs with him began to worry.

Prowl hummed thoughtfully as he listened to Ratchet and Optimus venture off onto another tangent. At least from the initial comments it wasn't one that Prowl would have a lot of input to add, the kind he tended to watch and snicker at as the two sniped until they realized they were making no progress on the subject and just gave it up.

The change gave the Praxian a moment to contemplate his empty cube of mild grade and decide if he wanted to rise and retrieve another one. Contemplation that was abruptly interrupted as pain flared in his spark.

The cry confusion and surprise interrupted the conversation, but Prowl hardly noticed as he clutched at his chest plates. Pain, agonizing sensation that was not his but he still felt rippled across his entire frame accompanied by a sense of Jazz.

Pain that took a second place to panic as that same sense- the feeling of Jazz's spark connection to his own- weakened and flickered. Prowl was on his feet and moving blindly in an instant, his bonded's name the only immediate clue to his companions as to a cause for his actions.

Large, strong hands grabbed his shoulders, stopped him from making it to the door. Prime's command voice reached his audios, and even though the words did not register his frame complied and stilled, at least to an extent.

~Jazz is safe,~ Ratchet's presence was suddenly in his processors, forcing the younger mech to processes the words. ~Keepsafe is with him.~

~Felt him leaving.~ Prowl protested, panic forced down just enough to finally process Ratchets presence, his frame still quivering and on the verge of bolting in search of his lover as soon as he was released.

~Jazz is weakening, not leaving,~ Ratchet insisted, tying Prowl into his data-comm line with Keepsafe. ~She's with him. It is almost over.~

Distress radiated from Prowl, but the edge of desperation faded as he listened. To Prowl there was little difference at the moment- a weakened Jazz was one that might leave him, but he grabbed on to any source of comfort he could find.

Ratchet's steady voice, the secondary feed of the other medic, the strong grip that Prowl now recognized as Prime holding him in place finally started to set his processor to right and he stopped struggling.

~She'll be calling me to come within the breem,~ Ratchet said with the certainty of long experience. ~I still don't think you should be there. Jazz won't know one way or another.~

~I promised him I would come get him.~ Prowl countered, deeply shaken by what he had felt and not all mollified by the faint feeling of Jazz's acceptance - welcoming - of what had happened that had filtered through at the end. ~I told him I would come for him when he was done.~

~If you freak, I'm going to sedate you,~ Ratchet promised even as he unplugged from the Praxian. "Understood?"

Prowl nodded, finding his balance as Optimus let him go, even if every inch of him still spoke of how shaken and upset he was.

"Is Jazz still conscious?" Optimus asked gently, trying to keep Prowl focused until the call came in. He didn't dare allow the mech near his SIC at the moment. Prowl would try to rip Black Echo apart. No matter how that one ended it would be bad.

Prowl went searching for the bond, another shudder rippling through his frame. "Yes. Just." The Praxian's entire frame was shaking again, concern for his mate top priority in his processor with little thought besides getting to him as soon as he was allowed.

The shaking ended as Prowl froze. "No."

"One klik," Ratchet said, reaching out to make sure Prowl didn't bolt at the delay. "A top medic is with him," he reminded Prowl firmly. "He's not without aid."

Prowl stayed obediently in place, though it was a near thing. As reassuring as Ratchet was trying to be, Prowl processor was pointing out that it was a bad thing that Jazz was in such poor shape that he already required the continued attention of a top medic.

"Jazz will feel much better after he's repaired," Optimus said gently but firmly. "You must know this, from his memories."

Truth or not, Prime or not, the answer was an aggressive rumble of Prowl's engines, the stress starting to wear on Prowl in a different way.

Yes, Jazz was be in a better frame of mind once he was repaired, without any of the negative swings from when Jazz returned from a mission or a breaking. But it was still his mate that was suffering.

"We can go now," Ratchet kept a firm hand on Prowl's shoulder to keep him to a walking pace. "SpecOps' interrogation room three."

There was no fight from the Praxian, enough of his processor functioning to realize that between Ratchet next to him and the Prime flanking him the only way he was going to get to see his bonded was to obey the directions he was given.

There was some concession on the other mechs part, not forcing him into trying to be sedate or calm about it and only pausing for a moment outside the interrogation room.

Prowl drew a steadying vent of atmosphere in and tried to prepare himself for what he was about to see.

It was pointless.

Actually seeing the state Jazz was in was too much. Armor had been torn violently off where he hadn't been shredded. Protoform mass was bleeding from thousands of slices, bit and claw marks. Interface equipment had been systematically brutalized until it was nothing but a source of flowing energon.

Only his face had been spared, mostly. His visor was gone, shattered pieces of it still imbedded in Jazz's face plates. Sensor horns were gone ... no, they were imbedded in his protoform in multiple parts. But he still looked like Jazz at least.

Just a Jazz that had been systematically tortured and destroyed to within an inch of his life.

A keening cry rose from Prowl, the only thing keeping him from flying apart was the small part of his spark, clear now that the Praxian had completely dropped the block between them, that Jazz was still functioning.

He lunged forward, wanting to touch, to feel, to reconcile the fact that what he was seeing was his mate. Anger, rage, anything that me might have felt towards the one, ones, responsible, was secondary to his concern.

Both medics allowed him. They focused on the work of keeping Jazz alive long enough to be repaired.

"He tried so hard to shield you from this need he has," Optimus said gentle as he put a hand on Prowl's shoulder. "It is a sign of how much he trusts you that you're permitted into this part of his existence."

Prowl didn't look at him, all of his attention focused on the mech loved. It hurt. It cut him deeply. But as much as he hated it, this was Jazz, part of Jazz, and all Prowl wanted in the moment was his mate whole and in his arms.

If it was anyone but Ratchet on the peripheral of his sensors, anyone besides the steady sense of his Prime at his back he would have broken by now. As it was he waited and prayed to Primus.

It was startling when Jazz began to move, but it was only the two medics transferring him to a hover-stretcher to move him to the medbay.

"You can't be in the surgery," Ratchet said firmly. "I can put you in stasis if you need it."

Prowl looked to his Prime first, seeking permission, assurance that it was all right if he accepted what Ratchet offered. With the nod of understanding attention turned to the medic instead.

"You'll wake me when he out?"

"I'll wake you before I let this one even think about booting up," Ratchet promised. "You'll be the first thing he senses."

"Please." Prowl said, finally stepping back so they could get Jazz out of there and under proper care.

Prowl's systems came online slowly, medical overrides flashing in his vision and forcing him to online in the proper order and under the proper timing sequence. Overrides put into place when he had gone under voluntary medical stasis to keep him from crashing because Jazz-

Because Jazz was in surgery, being repaired from being tortured almost to the point of offlining. For a moment he tried to fight it, tried to come online faster than the overrides were allowing before giving in, optics finally coming online to find Ratchet standing over him.

"He's fine, which your spark knows," the CMO pointed out gruffly. "Now listen to it."

Prowl stopped, listening to the order and finding the light in his own spark that was Jazz, strong and even. Some tension drained from his frame as he relaxed back on the berth, his spark still at odds with the mental images of the last time he had seen his bondmate.

"This is what he was protecting you from," Ratchet said as he signaled Prowl to get up and follow him. "When this blasted war is over he won't need it anymore, he won't have to exist with such warped programming, but for now Black Echo at least takes care of the monsters he creates."

"At least I know now." There was bitterness in Prowl's voice as he followed Ratchet.

The CMO x-vented softly and privately sent a small prayer to Primus that Jazz could perform another miracle and set the tactician's processor right. Neither spoke as Ratchet led Prowl to a small private recovery room where Jazz was laying peacefully, fully repaired and in a simple medical stasis lock according to both the machines hooked to him and Prowl's own spark.

Even in stasis Jazz's spark reached out to his, trying to sooth, to reassure, to draw its other half closer.

A barely suppressed whimper came from Prowl as he crossed the room, wanting to give in and be that much closer, spark wanting to reassure itself that Jazz was back to rights. The Praxian settled for running a hand gently over the repaired visor and helm.

"You can lift the lock soon?" He was sure Ratchet wouldn't have allowed him up in the room if the medic didn't have the intention of releasing Jazz soon, but it helped Prowl to ask. Kept him from asking other questions that he really didn't want to know the answers to.

"Just stay right there," the CMO instructed firmly as he began to disconnect Jazz from the medical equipment. Though it seemed like joors with both their sparks lunging at each other, desperate to connect, Prowl knew it took Ratchet less than a klik to release Jazz from stasis.

While Prowl got to watch Jazz's features, Ratchet was watching them both with his medical sensor suite, keen to pick up on any irregularity before it became an issue.

The Praxian moved at rapid speed through a mix of emotions, trembling as he waited for Jazz to cycle back to consciousness. Relief at the sounds of systems powering up on their own, proper whisper quiet and functioning correctly. Underlying fear that something more than physical had happened to his mate. Shame and guilt still buried beneath all of the other stronger emotions, biding their time before rising to torture Prowl again.

Prowl went still as life finally came back to the repaired visor, blue rising slowly back to its normal brightness.

"Jazz?" Soft question almost prayer as Prowl waited.

"Prowler," the familiar, musical voice rumbled in response as two hands came up to rig into gaps in Prowl's chest armor and pulled hard. Jazz didn't care if Prowl came down or he pulled himself up, just so long as he got chassis to chassis with his bonded now.

Up was in the end result, Prowl sweeping him up and holding the smaller mech against him, from all outside views quite possibly with the intent of never letting him go again.

~So sorry. I'm so sorry.~ Jazz repeated across their bond in a litany as he did an impressive job of mending himself into his bonded's frame. ~Primus, I'm so sorry Prowler.~

Hands swept over the smaller frame, replacing the still fresh memories of damage and destruction with the knowledge of repairs and completeness in the now.

~Here now.~ Prowl wasn't entirely sure if the words were for him, for Jazz, or for them both. But they were truth, with the Praxian seeking everything he could to confirm that this was his mate safe and sound. The frame, the voice, the spark so close to his that he craved as final confirmation.

He could feel Jazz's need, Jazz's intent, and realized in a sub-processor that his bonded was just as needy to merge sparks. "Please," Jazz gasped as his chest plates parted. ~Need you. Need you content.~

Somewhere amid all the need and desperation Prowl found himself on the berth, Jazz pinned against his chest as the Praxian's spark met his mate's, merging as soon as it was freed and reflecting the need driving both of them.

Almost pain from the merge as Prowl's spark latched on to it's mate, still haunted by the feelings of fading just before loss.

~Never,~ Jazz promised with all his spark. ~I will never leave you like that. I ... I'll join you before I leave you alone.~

~Please.~ Prowl begged, knowing if there was any truth the ancient myth that he would rather live a shorter life with Jazz's spark next to his own than suffering it alone before joining his mate in the Well. He felt along the bond, touching all of Jazz through the connection, confirming to spark and processor that his mate was with him again. Slowly fear faded, replaced with joy and relief and the now-peace of being so connected. ~Love you.~

~Love you,~ Jazz cried in joy at Prowl's recovery, his own trembling smoothing into a soft purr of pleasure-desire. ~Love you so much, Prowler. I'm so sorry I put you through that.~

~My fault.~ Prowl answered, love and apology and pain flowing across the bond. ~My fault. Forgive me.~

~No!~ the ferocity of Jazz's reply shocked Prowl right out of his thoughts. ~Not your fault Prowl. Never your fault. We do what we must to end this nightmare of a war. That is all.~

Prowl trembled, pressing against Jazz, frame and spark. ~We do.~ He agreed quietly, admitting that as truth. ~But planning is my job. Finding a way to take down Shockwave, my task. And the longer it takes the more everyone suffers. The more you suffer.~ Images of Jazz's mangled frame, of the pain Prowl had felt through the bond escaped his control. ~My failure, my fault.~

~My failure, if anyone's, Prowler,~ Jazz countered firmly. ~I cannot adapt as I need to. Please, babe, please don't blame yourself for something that began long before we met.~

Denial that any of the blame was Jazz's, for Prowl loved Jazz as he was, and the Praxian by now knew the difference between the Jazz whose spark was bound to his own and the parts of Jazz created and sustained by this war.

~Love you.~ Prowl stated. ~Love you always. Forget with me?~ Desire to forget, even for a little while all the levels of pain forced on them by the war.

~Yes,~ Jazz willingly let go of his grip on consciousness and sank quickly and fully into the wholeness of their merge. The two sparks rejoicing in being reunited, in sharing the full love and desire and reaffirming the bond between them.