Fandom: Transformers G1/Bayverse
Author: gatekat and starshield on LJ
Pairing: Jazz/Prowl
Rating: R for mech/mech and themes
Codes: Slash, Spark
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/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 38: Reclaiming Life

Ratchet came online abruptly and swore, shaking his berthmates from recharge as well. Two sets of dim and not yet fully functioning optics settled on him, openly confused as the medic struggled to untangle himself from what had been a very comfortable recharge arrangement.

"Who's critical?" Skyfire asked, his Seeker heritage booting him to a functional level first, though not by much.

"Prowl." Ratchet growled, finally freeing himself as his lovers helped. "I knew it was a bad idea to let him recharge alone tonight. Pit spawned SpecOps mechs and their monsters."

Skyfire's engines rumbled, his armor rattled slightly in agitation as he stood to join the medic. "You aren't going alone."

"I won't be alone. Keepsafe is already on her way, back-up in tow. And if that isn't enough ... we might be doomed anyway." Ratchet wasn't entirely sure what he was going to find, but he was sure that he was not going to like it. And if he wasn't going to like he didn't want to expose his lovers to it either.

"Ratchet's a better fighter than either of us," Wheeljack reached out to grab Skyfire's arm and allowing Ratchet to stalk out of the giant flier's berth room. "Let him do his job without us hovering."

It didn't take Ratchet long to reach Prowl's quarters, his alt mode's sirens clearing the corridors and his wheels making short work of the distance. He skidded to a stop and transformed before the open door to stalk in just behind the guards. Keepsafe entered at his side.

"They should both be in medical stasis," she commented, her optics and frame language all SpecOps.

"I don't like it when you use the word 'should'." Ratchet growled, scanners already on their highest settings to draw in any information around him. "And where's Echo? This is his mess."

"He was Meister's first stop," she said grimly. "Mirage is the temporary CO but he hasn't been fully briefed yet."

Their first sensor reports from the berth room told them the trap she'd set and Ratchet had checked had worked as planned. When he stepped into the room, however, his spark clenched and battlefield protocols kicked in. Jazz ... or what looked like Jazz ... was straddling Prowl's battered frame and locked in place with a vicious looking spike still pressurized. The berth between Prowl's spread legs had a small but growing pool of energon and transfluid. The Praxian's chest plates had been ripped open, light from the exposed spark chamber flickering enough to catch the momentary attention of all present. Ratchet was distracted enough by already trying to evaluate the Praxians condition he didn't see the object on the floor until he tripped over it.

Looking down, it took a moment for what he was seeing to sink in as he identified what appeared to be Soundwave's lifeless helm. "Good for nothing no-sparked twisted fragger. Of all the things to torture him with-."

Growling once more he glared at Keepsafe, waiting for her to confirm that it was safe to approach the two mechs on the berth, no matter how badly he wanted to get to Prowl. "Any other surprises I need to know about?"

"You put Prowl back together," she said firmly as she stalked up to her miscreant patient and plugged in to confirm his status. "I'll deal with Meister. He's not going to have a frame again for a long, long time. Yes, I'll inform you if I can't salvage Jazz in the process."

Ratchet flinched, watching as they separated the frames and wondering what kind of mess he had on his hands. As bad as it looked, he already knew that he could repair Prowl with relative ease. The majority of his apparent damage was in his valve, a module that was not too difficult to simply replace.

What scared him was the potential state of Prowl's processor when it was time to bring him out or stasis. How much recovery would he be in for, even if Jazz survived? These kinds of assaults were always brutal in the fallout.

Keepsafe, Mindwarp and Back Shadow all slumped the moment they disconnected from the large, powerful supercomputer used to shuttle the most difficult profiles between mechs. Only this time it was to secure and lock away the rogue personality for its trip to the Detention Center and hopefully a very long stay without a frame.

"I'm going to run one last scan, but you two go get some recharge and celebrate," Keepsafe looked at her cohorts wearily. "We just saved our commanding officer."

"You need recharge too," Mindwarp pointed out.

"I will, as soon as I'm sure he's safe to deliver to Ratchet and Prowl," she promised as she walked over to an energon dispenser and poured a cube. "Their sparks know the time even if they don't."

She felt them nod and leave before she returned to her work. The computer was sure, but she needed to be as well.

The certainty of a hardlined spark merge with her full medical protocols searching for any trace of Meister in his systems.

::Ratchet, is Prowl repaired?:: Keepsafe commed him in the middle of his shift almost two full orns after they'd been summoned to Prowl and Jazz's quarters.

::As much as I can do for him in stasis.:: The medic answered, glancing back at the frame still resting in the private room he had just left. ::His frame is fixed, but I still have no idea what we are looking at for the state of his processor, unless you have learned something from trying to clean out that profile.::

::The good news is that the upgrades worked exactly as designed. Meister never got in. There's still the psychological damage from the assault, but really I called because I'm ready to bring Jazz up. Only one thing- He's going to have very limited memories of what happened while Meister was in charge. Prowl needs to understand that.::

::Out of everything that could be wrong, I think that might be the easiest thing for him to deal with. Which one did you want to bring online first?::

::You know Prowl better, but if he can handle coming on line first I think it would be best,:: she said just before the medbay doors slid open for her and the hover stretcher obediently following her. ::Jazz remembers just enough to be utterly terrified Prowl will reject him over what happened.::

"He won't. If anything he is going to come out of stasis ready to do battle for him." Ratchet warned, stepping closer to scan the minibot frame on the stretcher. It was a relief when he scanned as fully his normal frame and in good repair. Spark frequency normal, energy levels good, all systems as they should be.

"Good to know," she nodded as they headed for Prowl's private room. "The sooner we bring them around, the sooner they can begin putting things to rights between them. You got the memo that Jazz is now the Head of Special Operations?"

"Yes." And while Ratchet had his own opinions on the matter he was curious. "What do you think?"

"He's been groomed for it," she spoke softly, her touch along Jazz's face and forehelm tender. "He's no Black Echo, but he's made hard choices. He wouldn't have the position if we didn't believe he could do it well."

Ratchet nodded, actually agreeing with her. "Ready for me to bring him around? He's going to come out of stasis a little off."

"Yes," she nodded, her fingers still on Jazz even as she was focused on Prowl, ready to get out of the way if the Praxian decided she was a threat.

"I loaded a special boot sequence for him, one that will hopefully force him to stop and listen before he tries to act." Ratchet explained as he unhooked Prowl from the machines running his systems for him and stepped back to monitor the Praxian. "For someone who relies so heavily on logic and reason he tends to come online ready to act first and think second."

"Decepticon survival sequences," Keepsafe shrugged.

Another soft hum started in the room, the sound of systems in perfect working order coming online. The first visible sign of life was dark optics coming to life, the owner scanning the room as the rest of him struggled to catch up.

"Before you start to panic, Jazz is fine. Look for yourself." Ratchet instructed, tapping his own chest over his spark as a clue in case Prowl wasn't functioning that well yet.

Visible tension drained, at least somewhat.

"How much does he remember?" Prowl asked shakily as soon as his vocalizaer came online, his spark pulsing happily at the normal feel of it's mate so close.

"Most of his functioning," Keepsafe smiled. "The past few decacycles where Meister was running things are going to be fuzzy and largely missing. Also, for what my word is worth, Soundwave is functioning fine."

A soft vent of relief escaped the Praxian as his motor functions came back to full working order, allowing him to sit up slowly. "And the profile?"

"Gone." Ratchet told him, glancing at Keepsafe for confirmation just to be safe.

"Safely in storage," she agreed. "He's not in Jazz anymore. If you're able, it would do Jazz a lot of good if you held him while he booted."

"Where do I need to be?" Prowl asked, wanting nothing more than his bonded back in his arms, most of his attention locked on the still form of Jazz and ignoring the tickle of medical scanners checking him over again.

"Sit and get comfortable," Keepsafe smiled as he complied. With gentle strength she lifted the completely limp Jazz and helped situate him in Prowl's lap, their chassis angled so their sparks were as close as possible and Prowl could nuzzle his bonded's forehelm. "Just focus on it being safe and that you still love him, if it's true. He's still Ops. We tend to boot a bit on the aggressive side when we've gone down hard."

"Always true." Prowl murmured, already focused on Jazz, bond open and inviting on his end for the silver mech to feel as soon as he was processing again.

Ratchet oversaw the whole arrangement, moving equipment out of the way in the slim chance that something did go wrong with the boot-up. He nodded encouragingly at Prowl as Keepsafe stepped up and initiated the release from stasis lock.

For Prowl, the effect was immediate. Panic, fear, self-loathing, longing spilled across the bond as Jazz cycled up. Then a crash of forgive me/so sorry as Jazz caught up with what he did remember. Slender clawed fingers dug into gaps in Prowl's armor as Jazz desperately tried to hold on through the chaos of a boot sequence gone horribly wrong.

Calm for the panic and fear, love for the self-loathing, and equal longing came with joy that Jazz was with him. Prowl allowed Jazz to hold him and held him tightly against his frame in return as Prowl hummed gently, trying to ease his bonded's confusion.

~Love you. Easy. Love you.~ Prowl murmured. ~There is nothing to forgive love, nothing to be sorry for.~

~I couldn't stop him from hurting you,~ Jazz trembled in his arms, pressing close as he began to relax into the spark to spark reassurance, his own love for Prowl bubbling up in response to the love sent his way. ~I don't remember much, but I remember him hurting you. I remember I couldn't stop him. Not when he killed Black Echo and not when he hurt you.~

~You tried. You helped me fight him.~ Prowl reassured him. A soft vent escaped him as he nuzzled at Jazz. ~I am sorry for you love.~

Sorry for the loss of the mech who had been a guide to Jazz, even if Prowl didn't think that he would ever be able to forgive the late Ops Commander for what he done to Jazz.

~Thanks,~ came the shaky reply before Jazz all but forced the tension to drain away. ~He was a bastard,~ he admitted quietly. ~But he was my bastard ... as close to a creator as I ever had. I'm not ready to be a commander.~

Prowl nodded, understanding the desire for someone to look up to, to follow and mould yourself after. He held him close, support and complete belief in his bonded. ~You are. I believe in you. They believe in you. And I will do everything I can to help you. Whatever you need.~

~Just you,~ Jazz purred, shifting a little so he could run his hands along Prowl's chassis. ~Love you,~ he murmured as he stretched up into a kiss.

~Love you.~ Prowl answered, field reaching out to cautiously brush against Jazz's as he met the kiss, a small bit of the tension in his frame draining away at the familiar rightness of the field that welcomed his and wrapped him in adoration and devotion.

~Just please love, please don't hide your reactions,~ Jazz pleaded as he opened his mouth, offering rather than asking for more. ~I know more about recovery than I care to admit to. We have all the time we'll need.~

A shiver of shame ran through Prowl, shame that he was the weakness in bond when it was Jazz that had suffered so much. He pressed into the kiss, desperate and shaky at the reminder of recent events.

~Love, nothing to be ashamed about,~ Jazz murmured, insistent and determined even as his touch was gentle and undemanding. ~A monster wearing my frame hurt you badly. It'll take time to feel normal again.~

~Don't want to hurt you.~ Prowl admitted, fighting to not fold in on himself, to focus on Jazz. ~I don't want you to go without something you need.~ He nuzzled gently at the silver helm, finding comfort in the small act of affection.

~It'll hurt me much more if you hurt yourself trying,~ Jazz managed to hold firm even as his engine purred happily at the contact. ~I can get what I need from my function, love. You're more important than pleasure.~

Prowl vented softly, tension draining from his frame with the sound. He got Jazz's attention and pushed his field out again, asking for the closeness, another desire teasing at the edge. The response was instantaneous as Jazz welcomed the contact and wove his field with Prowl's as much as the larger mech wanted.

~Love you, Prowl,~ Jazz murmured across their bond. ~Share with me?~

~Please.~ Prowl asked, wishing for something that was still clean, untainted, the one thing that had sustained him through the pain and the fear. Chest plates parted before Jazz could touch him there. His mate responded immediately, chest plates parting and spark chamber spiraling open with a rush of desire to reconnect.

~Love you,~ Jazz moaned as their coronas touched, grateful beyond words that they still had this.

~Still yours. Always yours.~ Prowl answered. ~This is yours, whenever you want.~

He leaned back, drawing Jazz against him and sinking into the safety and warmth that was his bonded. There was no faking this, no way to fool his spark with Jazz's touching it, the proof he craved so badly.

~This is yours whenever you want it too,~ Jazz trembled as memories began to flood him. Ratchet's understanding and comfort in the lonely orns. Work filling the remainder of his on-line joors. The momentary joy at seeing Jazz above him that quickly turned to cold terror as the monster revealed himself and his intentions.

Through it all, Jazz resisted nothing. He took in what Prowl had experienced, accepted the pain, accepted the struggle it would be for them to move forward, and focused on nothing but to reassure Prowl that Jazz loved him and would be there for him in any way he was needed.

He received promise in return, promise that Prowl would be by his side and stand by him if Jazz would let him, to face whatever struggles might arise together. And that no matter what Prowl loved him, loved him whatever his form, and that even in the darkness he had never given up on his bonded.

He had learned that lesson the hard way already.

~We'll make it,~ Jazz gave words to their mutual oath before allowing himself to slide deeper into the merge, intent on taking it as deep as their bonding merge. He wanted to reaffirm their original vows even as he absently mused about the role of trauma in their relationship.

Prowl acknowledged the recurring theme as well, sad for a moment before moving on, focusing entirely on Jazz and renewing the link between them, filled with love and joy, both remembered and the now.