Boot, Reboot
Title: Boot, Reboot
'Verse: 2007 Transformers
Characters: Ensemble. Jazz. Prowl.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
“So… why are we here again?”
There was a sigh as the girl rolled her eyes in an ‘I can’t believe I have to explain this again’ manner, then a thump as her palm hit the sofa where her boyfriend had been seated just a moment before. Growling at Sam’s grin, Mikaela crossed her arms and glared.
“For the last time, we’re here because Optimus, Ratchet and Ironhide aren’t. And someone had to keep a watch on a certain silver pain in the aft for the past week while they were away.”
“You realise we’re not very good candidates for giant robot babysitters? We’re kinda squishy.”
“That’s why Bumblebee is doing most of the actual ‘babysitting’.”
“Which brings me to my original point.”
“And that would be?” Unfazed by the young woman’s deadly tone, Sam pointed to the window and the bright sun that shone through it.
“Why are we here, inside, rotting our brains to mush with daytime TV instead of outside racing with ‘Bee and Jazz?”
Mikaela actually blinked at him. “… Okay, good point.”
“Cool. Let’s go!”
= = =
Ironhide transformed as soon as Will was clear, cannons spinning to full charge while his Prime and Ratchet followed suit a few metres behind him, human soldiers scattering to set up a perimeter. Ahead lay the impact crater of their newest arrivals. He approached it cautiously. The message they’d received had been a little garbled, and Wheeljack had sounded flustered, something that worried the four Autobots who’d heard it.
The happy go lucky inventor was never flustered, a result of blowing off his limbs and exploding his surroundings with almost clockwork regularity in his youth (Ratchet had honed his sharp glossa in a similar manner, yelling at Wheeljack whenever such things occured). Ironhide had to admit, once you’d lost the same arm about twenty four times, the novelty kinda wore off and it became routine.
The mech had been very insistent that Ratchet meet them, but Ironhide wasn’t about to risk their only medic if he could help it. So he took point, only lowering his weapons when Wheeljack chirped a tired sounding greeting at him.
“It’s me. You can put those away. Nothing followed us.”
The Topkick grunted, pulling the engineer to his pedes and giving him cursory once over.
“You don’t look like slag. Why the call for Ratchet?”
“Why, thank you Ironhide, you’re looking fine yourself.” Headfins flashed at him and the black mech huffed, raising an optic ridge. Wheeljack sighed.
“It’s not me.” The engineer turned back, and Ironhide spotted two forms unwinding from around each other.
“The twins? No wonder you wanted the doc. How did you stay sane with them injured and griping all the way here?”
“It’s not them either.” Wheeljack’s headfins flashed some more and the weapons master frowned, puzzled. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker drew closer, and finally the Topkick spotted the third mech being carried by the pair.
“Frag.”
He turned and beckoned to Ratchet, and the chartreuse mech hurried over, spurred by his expression. One look at the twins’ unconscious burden and the medic sighed. “Well, frag.”
“S’what I said.” Ironhide commented and the engineer moved to reassure them.
“He’s just in stasis. I put him there for the trip down so I could explain things to you and get some info on the situation here before bringing him online again.”
The CMO shook his head. “They were bonded, weren’t they?”
“Worst kept secret in the Autobots.” The weapons master replied as he helped the twins set the mech on the ground for Ratchet to scan. Wheeljack grinned weakly, then delicately queried.
“I’m guessing that Jazz… lives?”
The black mech cycled air slowly. “Yeah. He does. And I’m guessing we’re looking at the reason why.”
“Oh, good. Then let’s get back to wherever Jazz is and Ratchet can undo whatever it is I did.”
“Wheeljack.”
“Um. We should go. Exposed location and vulnerable bots and all that.”
“Wheeljack.” The twins, Ironhide and Optimus were already edging away discretely.
“Really, I think our tanks are all rather empty and we should get to your base before we all fall into stasis.” The engineer’s hands fluttered nervously.
“Wheeljack. What. Did. You. Do?!”
“… I can explain.”
= = =
//Bumblebee! Keep Jazz away from the med bay and the path from the main gate! I don’t care what you have to do, just do it!//
Sam jerked when the comm. from Ratchet echoed through the Camaro’s chassis, and the scout rumbled in concern before he reassured his guardian that he was fine, just startled. Bumblebee stopped, letting Sam out, then transformed to look at the Solstice spinning doughnuts across the open ground of the base, two sets of laughter, mech and human, coming from the silver form.
“… So, got any ideas?”
Yellow doorwings drooped, and Sam patted his friend on the knee.
“Try a footrace. His legs are still a little wobbly and Ratchet recommended he use them to work all the glitches out. Plus, he’ll be easy to goad into chasing you. If he gets away from you, me and ‘Kaela can distract him if he starts this way.”
Nodding, the Camaro waved at Jazz, blasting the sound of a raspberry before whipping ‘round and hightailing it. Jazz’s engine revved in playful annoyance before Mikaela hopped out and he too shifted forms to give chase. The girl headed over to Sam with a questioning look and he just shrugged.
“Ratchet wants Jazz out of the way. C’mon, 'Bee's mech to mech, and we’re on zone defence.”
= = =
“Ratchet, I’m sorry but it was the only way to keep him functioning after- You weren’t there! You didn’t see him! He went catatonic, clutching his spark chamber and muttering about how he couldn’t feel Jazz any more, then threw himself at every ‘Con we ran into to try and tear them apart! Frag, he did tear them apart! The twins were the only ones who could calm him down!”
“Wheeljack’s right, Ratch’. And we needed him to be able to plan our afts out of the slag we kept running into, not get us into it.”
“We tried to hold off for as long as we could. Stayed near him, held him so that he could sense our twin bond. It seemed to help, but eventually he was the one to ask ‘Jack for it.”
“You practically wiped his mind clean!” The medic hissed at the three mechs following him. Wheeljack protested.
“Not intentionally! The program was just supposed to suppress all memories of his bondmate until they could be reunited! I didn’t know they’d be so… so intertwined!”
“I don’t think anyone did. For all that they’re the Autobot’s best known secret, they’re also slagging good at hiding stuff when they want to be.” Sunstreaker muttered, and Ratchet sighed in resignation.
“Oh Primus. And with Jazz in his current state…”
“What’s wrong with Jazz?!”
“One problem at a time!” The chartreuse mech snapped back, only to screech to a halt when a silver car flew by him, followed by a yellow one. “Damn. It never rains but it pours.”
“Ratchet! You’re back!”
The rescue vehicle sagged on his shocks as the Solstice transformed and ran over, followed by Bumblebee who shrugged at him as if to say ‘Well, I tried’.
“Yeah I am.”
“You found more of us? Who are they?”
Ratchet sighed, giving in and shifting to root mode, motioning for Wheeljack, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to do the same. They stood about awkwardly as the medic ran through the introductions, their dread growing when the silver mech exhibited no recognition whatsoever when he grinned at them.
“Well, welcome to Earth. I’m Jazz…” He trailed off, frowning, and Ratchet scanned him worriedly. The visored mech batted the other bot away distractedly.
“There’s one more… Oh! There he is!”
Before anyone could stop him, Jazz was pressed against the side of the trailer Optimus had been pulling, one hand patting the metal walls curiously.
“I never get to ride in the Prime’s trailer. Is he hurt?”
“Jazz… Yes, he’s injured, so he’s in stasis. I need to get him to the med bay and you need to stay out from underfoot so I can make him better, understand?”
“Yessir!”
“Good mech, now you should get some recharge. I can bet you’ve been racing about when I specifically told you not to stress your systems. ‘Bee, make sure he rests.”
“A little speed never hurt anyone.” Jazz laughed and Ratchet growled, sending the silver mech off with a light cuff to the helm, trailed by a watchful Camaro.
Turning back to his uneasy audience, the medic vented air and pointed wordlessly at the med bay. Meekly, they unloaded their last remaining member and trooped inside, Ratchet following with a low mutter.
= = =
“Ratchet, I’m really sorry. I’d just remove the program but I’m afraid of what would happen, especially when Jazz doesn’t even remember him. You say it’s been like that since he came online after repairs?”
Ratchet just glared at Wheeljack before replying. “Yes. Large portions of his databanks seem to be non-accessible. I don’t know when he’ll recover full access, I’ve never heard of a case like this before.”
The chartreuse mech looked at their current patient. “How was he like before you put him into stasis?”
“Functional. Less confident, but all his abilities are still in working order, he must’ve got those upgrades installed pretty early on. Kept us alive pretty much all on his own, but he clings to the twins like they’re his creators. It freaked them a little at first but they’re used to it now. Otherwise he’s as normal as any youngling.”
“Except for the fact that he hasn’t been one for, I don’t know, nearly a couple hundred vorns?”
The CMO’s tone was acerbic and the inventor sighed, optics focused on the ground.
“Well, there is that. Ratchet… He knows that he’s missing some memories and that he’s not all fine in the head, but he trusts that I can find a way to fix it.”
A hand landed onto Wheeljack’s shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “You only did what you had to. I’ve copied the program and his CPU patterns. Let me see what I can do.”
“Should we bring him online?” The engineer cast a hesitant glance at the offline bot next to them and Ratchet nodded.
“Probably. If I can get a scan of his processors when he’s actually using them it’d help. But for the love of Primus, we need to make sure they never meet! I don’t know what would happen then.”
= = =
Jazz peered into the med bay. Ratchet stood at one end, talking with Optimus and one of the new mechs, Wheeljack. Seated on a berth beside them was a mech he’d never seen before, one about his size, which was great, one that made his spark thrill curiously when he caught sight of him, which was strange. He had to be the one from Prime’s trailer. Creeping closer, he held a finger to his lips when the mech spotted him, and grinned when the mech glanced at Ratchet warily before moving to the end of the platform where Jazz could stay out of the medic’s sight.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
“You look bored. Ratch’ said you were injured, you okay?”
“I am bored. And I feel fine now.”
“Good. Think you can sneak away? I’ll give you a tour of the base.”
“I shouldn’t. They’ll be worried if I just disappear.”
“We won’t go far then. Just to the rec room. The others will probably be there.” Jazz offered, and the mech looked more interested now.
“Sunny and Sides too?”
A shrug, one that hid his disappointment that his offer (and his company) wasn't tempting enough on its own to flee processor numbing boredom for. “Maybe, probably, who knows? Why?”
“… I would like to check on them. They took the brunt of our landing because I had to be offline.” The mech looked down at his pedes, and the visored mech smiled. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that the other bot didn't find him interesting. He just had a few more pressing concerns.
“Well then, no time like the present.”
Once they were out of the room and safely down the corridor, Jazz nudged the other mech gently.
“I’m Jazz. What’s your name?”
“Prowl. Pleased to meet you.”
Back in the med bay, Wheeljack was staring with bemused dismay at the very empty berth, and Ratchet was thumping his helm against the chassis of his Prime (also bemused) in aggravation.
= = =
“Prowl! What are you doing out of the med bay?!”
“Jazz! You’re supposed to be resting!”
“Wow. Stereo parenting. And I thought only my folks did that.”
Jazz waved at Sam and Mikaela before a yellow mech descended upon him, vocaliser spitting static into his words at his agitation, and pouted a little on the inside when Prowl went to the two other new bots (and they were both taller than him too!) immediately. The mech’s doorwings twitched (and Jazz found his interest caught by them, strange, Bumblebee’s doors didn’t grab his attention quite so much) as he reached for the pair earnestly.
“I was worried about you. Are you alright? Were you hurt during landfall?”
“We’re fine. Primus, we’d better get you back to medical before Ratchet blows a fuse.”
Jazz leapt at the chance to escape a hovering Bumblebee, grabbing Prowl’s hand and smiling winningly at the twins. “I’ll take him! I know all the shortcuts! He’ll be back before you know it.”
The Solstice dragged Prowl out at top speed, leaving three rather dumbfounded mechs behind. A cackle had Bumblebee, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe turning to look at Ironhide, who smacked his thigh as he laughed, finally getting himself under enough control to smirk at them.
“Well gee. They sure grow up fast, don’t they?”
The black mech started laughing again, this time joined by two humans when the three mechs lunged for the door.
= = =
“I know you.”
“Hm?”
Jazz looked at Prowl in confusion and the chevroned mech repeated himself, more surely this time.
“I know you. A large part of my memory banks are currently blocked, but I know you.”
The Solstice stared, then looked up suddenly before pulling the other bot into another corridor. Someone ran past, the sound fading to silence before he stuck his head out to check that the way was clear.
“That was close.”
“Why are we avoiding everyone else?”
Because Jazz didn’t want to share right now, that’s why. Not wanting to actually say so, he changed the subject.
“My memory’s fragged too. I got damaged real badly, and for a while they thought I wasn’t going to make it, but I did. Look, I’ve still got the weld marks.”
“Do they still hurt?”
Fingers brushed lightly against the scars and the visored mech shrugged easily, feeling a warmth growing in his spark at the way Prowl looked at him, optics filled with the same concern he’d had for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker
“Nah. Not now. Only sometimes.”
“How did you get injured?”
“Dunno. That’s in the part of my databanks that’s still glitchy. But it was probably while doing something heroic.”
“I’ll bet. It would be a pity to be so badly hurt for anything less.”
Prowl stroked the welds gently, almost admiringly, and Jazz found himself blurting out his next words.
“Y’know, I think I know you too.”
“Oh? How do you know that?”
“’Cos this tells me so.”
Jazz took the hand that was still resting on his middle and pressed it against his chestplates. His spark pulsed in response and Prowl’s lips parted in surprise, then the chevroned mech was catching hold of his free hand to bring it to his own chest. It was Jazz’s turn to be surprised when he felt an answering pulse. Looking up at Prowl, he saw that the other bot was smiling.
“… So that’s what it was saying.”
“JAZZ! PROWL! Where are you?!”
They nearly leapt out of their plating when Ratchet’s bellow sounded from somewhere outside their corridor. Looking at each other with a mixture of alarm and amusement, they joined hands and ran.
= = =
One mad round of hide and seek later, at the end of which the two mechs in question were found in the med bay with Jazz trying to teach Prowl some sort of card game (no one had been fooled by the innocent looks they’d given everyone who’d been searching high and low for them), Sideswipe flopped onto the rec room couch, groaning as his servos protested the action.
“Ironhide, if Sunny and I were ever as bad as Jazz and Prowl I apologise from the very bottom of my spark.”
“Don’t worry. You and your brother never caused this much havoc as younglings. You didn’t have the kind of processing power these two are packing.”
“I think I’d be offended if I weren’t so slagging tired.”
“Dammit, if all they’ve got are their youngling memories, how are they kicking our afts?” Sunstreaker demanded.
“Master Yoketron believed that you could never be too young to learn what he had to teach.”
Sam eeped and nearly tumbled off his end of the couch when Prowl appeared, leaning over its back nonchalantly.
“And Lockdown wasn’t exactly the cuddliest of bots. You learnt fast or you got left behind.”
Sideswipe swore as Jazz popped up beside the doorwinged mech, grinning cheekily.
“That’s it. Sunny, you grab Prowl, I’ll take Jazz. Hopefully we’ll be able to keep them in their respective rooms for a full recharge cycle.”
Mikaela truly had her doubts that the twins were going to succeed, judging by the smirk Jazz shot Prowl. But it was good to be able to hand the mischievous Solstice off to someone else, so she didn’t bother to point that out to anyone, instead turning to Ironhide with a question.
“’Hide? Who were those bots Jazz and Prowl mentioned?”
“Master Yoketron ran a school for Diffusion and Metallikato, Cybertronian martial arts. The best on the planet, it was hidden somewhere on one of Cybertron’s mountains and only the select few who became his students knew where it was. Lockdown was an outlaw with a big bounty on his head; only no one dared try and claim it. He flew a ship with a small but ruthless crew, taking what he wanted from whoever had it.”
Sam groaned, burying his head in Mikeala’s shoulder. “… Bumblebee, please tell me that Prowl wasn’t raised by ninjas and Jazz by pirates.”
There was a pause that was too long for the young man’s comfort before he heard a quiet, “… You know, that really does explain so much.”
“Augh.”
= = =
The full moon shone down on the base, and as Mikaela had predicted, there were two mechs who weren’t where everyone else thought they would be. Moving quietly through the shadows, they climbed to the roof of one of the buildings to settle down under the night sky, a quick scan having determined that it would be able to hold the both of them.
“I don’t think they know how to fix us.”
“Me neither.”
“Ratchet’s good though. If anyone could figure it out, he’d be the one to do it.”
“Wheeljack’s good too. Now that they’re working together, they’ll probably find a solution relatively quickly.”
Jazz nodded, then pointed to another rooftop. “Hey, look, it’s Sam and ‘Kaela. What are they doing?”
“… I’m not sure.”
“Wonder why they’re doing it.”
“One way to find out.”
Before the Solstice could ask what he meant, Prowl leant close to press his lip plates against the silver mech’s cheek.
“… Oh.”
“A local custom, perhaps.”
“Not unpleasant though.”
“Shall I do it again?”
“For the sake of scientific rigour.”
“Then it behoves me to carry out a randomised sampling.”
Another press of lips to cheek plating, then to a silver shoulder. A delicate brush against a headfin, another to the tip of Jazz’s nose, and then the chevroned mech paused, causing the visored mech to whine softly.
“Curious. Your core temperatures are rising. Perhaps we should stop.”
“Let me try one first.”
Jazz’s lips met Prowl’s, and this kiss lasted much longer than the first few.
= = =
“Hey Sideswipe. Sunstreaker. How was your night?”
Twin glares answered Sam and beside him Mikaela giggled.
“Right. Say no more.” He hopped onto the sofa, extending a hand to the young woman to help her up before tilting his head at the sullen pair.
“So… How’d they get out this time?”
“Jazz took me by surprise. Little glitch lifted a sedative from the med bay and stuck me with it.” Sideswipe growled, and Mikaela raised an eyebrow at Sunstreaker.
“And how ‘bout you? Is Prowl just as light fingered as Jazz?”
“Hah! He didn’t have to do anything. Except maybe tell Jazz about us being twins.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” The young man queried, and from behind them Wheeljack answered, chuckling.
“Twin bots share a spark bond, and if one of the pair is surprised by say… a sedative… Well, see exhibit ‘A’ right here.”
Sam’s face brightened in understanding. “Ah, so whatever affects one affects the other? Uh… Wheeljack? You okay?”
“That’s it! That’s exactly it! I gotta talk to Ratchet!”
And the engineer ran out, leaving the two mechs and the two humans to stare at each other in confusion.
= = =
“You think this will work?”
Wheeljack nodded, ignoring Ratchet’s dubious look. “The effects of the program match Jazz’s symptoms. The timelines are also about right, I implemented it in Prowl before Jazz regained consciousness. And they’re bonded. It fits.”
“So you want to remove the blocks, just like that? What about…”
“Jazz has recovered. I’m sure that Prowl won’t relapse. And if he does, you’re better at yelling at him than me or the twins. But we should go slow anyway.”
The medic sighed. “Very well. Call him in, and let’s hope they don’t feel like hide and seek this time ‘round.”
= = =
The procedure was a success, even if Sunstreaker had to bolt for the med bay carrying Jazz after the mech collapsed, shrieking at the top of his voice, only to find Prowl in a similar state of distress. Shoving the saboteur into the doorwinged mech’s arms had calmed them both down immediately, and when the two mechs onlined next, it was with intact minds once more.
Ratchet had subsequently kicked them out of his med bay under strict orders to rest and not cause any trouble, orders they were only too happy to obey. Lying against his bondmate, Jazz reached for Prowl’s helm, bringing the tactician’s faceplates close enough to press his lips to the other mech’s. When they parted, intakes working a little faster, Prowl murmured softly.
“Such a strange custom.”
“But not unpleasant.” Jazz replied, and Prowl smiled in agreement before claiming another kiss.
“Not unpleasant at all.”
'Verse: 2007 Transformers
Characters: Ensemble. Jazz. Prowl.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
“So… why are we here again?”
There was a sigh as the girl rolled her eyes in an ‘I can’t believe I have to explain this again’ manner, then a thump as her palm hit the sofa where her boyfriend had been seated just a moment before. Growling at Sam’s grin, Mikaela crossed her arms and glared.
“For the last time, we’re here because Optimus, Ratchet and Ironhide aren’t. And someone had to keep a watch on a certain silver pain in the aft for the past week while they were away.”
“You realise we’re not very good candidates for giant robot babysitters? We’re kinda squishy.”
“That’s why Bumblebee is doing most of the actual ‘babysitting’.”
“Which brings me to my original point.”
“And that would be?” Unfazed by the young woman’s deadly tone, Sam pointed to the window and the bright sun that shone through it.
“Why are we here, inside, rotting our brains to mush with daytime TV instead of outside racing with ‘Bee and Jazz?”
Mikaela actually blinked at him. “… Okay, good point.”
“Cool. Let’s go!”
= = =
Ironhide transformed as soon as Will was clear, cannons spinning to full charge while his Prime and Ratchet followed suit a few metres behind him, human soldiers scattering to set up a perimeter. Ahead lay the impact crater of their newest arrivals. He approached it cautiously. The message they’d received had been a little garbled, and Wheeljack had sounded flustered, something that worried the four Autobots who’d heard it.
The happy go lucky inventor was never flustered, a result of blowing off his limbs and exploding his surroundings with almost clockwork regularity in his youth (Ratchet had honed his sharp glossa in a similar manner, yelling at Wheeljack whenever such things occured). Ironhide had to admit, once you’d lost the same arm about twenty four times, the novelty kinda wore off and it became routine.
The mech had been very insistent that Ratchet meet them, but Ironhide wasn’t about to risk their only medic if he could help it. So he took point, only lowering his weapons when Wheeljack chirped a tired sounding greeting at him.
“It’s me. You can put those away. Nothing followed us.”
The Topkick grunted, pulling the engineer to his pedes and giving him cursory once over.
“You don’t look like slag. Why the call for Ratchet?”
“Why, thank you Ironhide, you’re looking fine yourself.” Headfins flashed at him and the black mech huffed, raising an optic ridge. Wheeljack sighed.
“It’s not me.” The engineer turned back, and Ironhide spotted two forms unwinding from around each other.
“The twins? No wonder you wanted the doc. How did you stay sane with them injured and griping all the way here?”
“It’s not them either.” Wheeljack’s headfins flashed some more and the weapons master frowned, puzzled. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker drew closer, and finally the Topkick spotted the third mech being carried by the pair.
“Frag.”
He turned and beckoned to Ratchet, and the chartreuse mech hurried over, spurred by his expression. One look at the twins’ unconscious burden and the medic sighed. “Well, frag.”
“S’what I said.” Ironhide commented and the engineer moved to reassure them.
“He’s just in stasis. I put him there for the trip down so I could explain things to you and get some info on the situation here before bringing him online again.”
The CMO shook his head. “They were bonded, weren’t they?”
“Worst kept secret in the Autobots.” The weapons master replied as he helped the twins set the mech on the ground for Ratchet to scan. Wheeljack grinned weakly, then delicately queried.
“I’m guessing that Jazz… lives?”
The black mech cycled air slowly. “Yeah. He does. And I’m guessing we’re looking at the reason why.”
“Oh, good. Then let’s get back to wherever Jazz is and Ratchet can undo whatever it is I did.”
“Wheeljack.”
“Um. We should go. Exposed location and vulnerable bots and all that.”
“Wheeljack.” The twins, Ironhide and Optimus were already edging away discretely.
“Really, I think our tanks are all rather empty and we should get to your base before we all fall into stasis.” The engineer’s hands fluttered nervously.
“Wheeljack. What. Did. You. Do?!”
“… I can explain.”
= = =
//Bumblebee! Keep Jazz away from the med bay and the path from the main gate! I don’t care what you have to do, just do it!//
Sam jerked when the comm. from Ratchet echoed through the Camaro’s chassis, and the scout rumbled in concern before he reassured his guardian that he was fine, just startled. Bumblebee stopped, letting Sam out, then transformed to look at the Solstice spinning doughnuts across the open ground of the base, two sets of laughter, mech and human, coming from the silver form.
“… So, got any ideas?”
Yellow doorwings drooped, and Sam patted his friend on the knee.
“Try a footrace. His legs are still a little wobbly and Ratchet recommended he use them to work all the glitches out. Plus, he’ll be easy to goad into chasing you. If he gets away from you, me and ‘Kaela can distract him if he starts this way.”
Nodding, the Camaro waved at Jazz, blasting the sound of a raspberry before whipping ‘round and hightailing it. Jazz’s engine revved in playful annoyance before Mikaela hopped out and he too shifted forms to give chase. The girl headed over to Sam with a questioning look and he just shrugged.
“Ratchet wants Jazz out of the way. C’mon, 'Bee's mech to mech, and we’re on zone defence.”
= = =
“Ratchet, I’m sorry but it was the only way to keep him functioning after- You weren’t there! You didn’t see him! He went catatonic, clutching his spark chamber and muttering about how he couldn’t feel Jazz any more, then threw himself at every ‘Con we ran into to try and tear them apart! Frag, he did tear them apart! The twins were the only ones who could calm him down!”
“Wheeljack’s right, Ratch’. And we needed him to be able to plan our afts out of the slag we kept running into, not get us into it.”
“We tried to hold off for as long as we could. Stayed near him, held him so that he could sense our twin bond. It seemed to help, but eventually he was the one to ask ‘Jack for it.”
“You practically wiped his mind clean!” The medic hissed at the three mechs following him. Wheeljack protested.
“Not intentionally! The program was just supposed to suppress all memories of his bondmate until they could be reunited! I didn’t know they’d be so… so intertwined!”
“I don’t think anyone did. For all that they’re the Autobot’s best known secret, they’re also slagging good at hiding stuff when they want to be.” Sunstreaker muttered, and Ratchet sighed in resignation.
“Oh Primus. And with Jazz in his current state…”
“What’s wrong with Jazz?!”
“One problem at a time!” The chartreuse mech snapped back, only to screech to a halt when a silver car flew by him, followed by a yellow one. “Damn. It never rains but it pours.”
“Ratchet! You’re back!”
The rescue vehicle sagged on his shocks as the Solstice transformed and ran over, followed by Bumblebee who shrugged at him as if to say ‘Well, I tried’.
“Yeah I am.”
“You found more of us? Who are they?”
Ratchet sighed, giving in and shifting to root mode, motioning for Wheeljack, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to do the same. They stood about awkwardly as the medic ran through the introductions, their dread growing when the silver mech exhibited no recognition whatsoever when he grinned at them.
“Well, welcome to Earth. I’m Jazz…” He trailed off, frowning, and Ratchet scanned him worriedly. The visored mech batted the other bot away distractedly.
“There’s one more… Oh! There he is!”
Before anyone could stop him, Jazz was pressed against the side of the trailer Optimus had been pulling, one hand patting the metal walls curiously.
“I never get to ride in the Prime’s trailer. Is he hurt?”
“Jazz… Yes, he’s injured, so he’s in stasis. I need to get him to the med bay and you need to stay out from underfoot so I can make him better, understand?”
“Yessir!”
“Good mech, now you should get some recharge. I can bet you’ve been racing about when I specifically told you not to stress your systems. ‘Bee, make sure he rests.”
“A little speed never hurt anyone.” Jazz laughed and Ratchet growled, sending the silver mech off with a light cuff to the helm, trailed by a watchful Camaro.
Turning back to his uneasy audience, the medic vented air and pointed wordlessly at the med bay. Meekly, they unloaded their last remaining member and trooped inside, Ratchet following with a low mutter.
= = =
“Ratchet, I’m really sorry. I’d just remove the program but I’m afraid of what would happen, especially when Jazz doesn’t even remember him. You say it’s been like that since he came online after repairs?”
Ratchet just glared at Wheeljack before replying. “Yes. Large portions of his databanks seem to be non-accessible. I don’t know when he’ll recover full access, I’ve never heard of a case like this before.”
The chartreuse mech looked at their current patient. “How was he like before you put him into stasis?”
“Functional. Less confident, but all his abilities are still in working order, he must’ve got those upgrades installed pretty early on. Kept us alive pretty much all on his own, but he clings to the twins like they’re his creators. It freaked them a little at first but they’re used to it now. Otherwise he’s as normal as any youngling.”
“Except for the fact that he hasn’t been one for, I don’t know, nearly a couple hundred vorns?”
The CMO’s tone was acerbic and the inventor sighed, optics focused on the ground.
“Well, there is that. Ratchet… He knows that he’s missing some memories and that he’s not all fine in the head, but he trusts that I can find a way to fix it.”
A hand landed onto Wheeljack’s shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “You only did what you had to. I’ve copied the program and his CPU patterns. Let me see what I can do.”
“Should we bring him online?” The engineer cast a hesitant glance at the offline bot next to them and Ratchet nodded.
“Probably. If I can get a scan of his processors when he’s actually using them it’d help. But for the love of Primus, we need to make sure they never meet! I don’t know what would happen then.”
= = =
Jazz peered into the med bay. Ratchet stood at one end, talking with Optimus and one of the new mechs, Wheeljack. Seated on a berth beside them was a mech he’d never seen before, one about his size, which was great, one that made his spark thrill curiously when he caught sight of him, which was strange. He had to be the one from Prime’s trailer. Creeping closer, he held a finger to his lips when the mech spotted him, and grinned when the mech glanced at Ratchet warily before moving to the end of the platform where Jazz could stay out of the medic’s sight.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
“You look bored. Ratch’ said you were injured, you okay?”
“I am bored. And I feel fine now.”
“Good. Think you can sneak away? I’ll give you a tour of the base.”
“I shouldn’t. They’ll be worried if I just disappear.”
“We won’t go far then. Just to the rec room. The others will probably be there.” Jazz offered, and the mech looked more interested now.
“Sunny and Sides too?”
A shrug, one that hid his disappointment that his offer (and his company) wasn't tempting enough on its own to flee processor numbing boredom for. “Maybe, probably, who knows? Why?”
“… I would like to check on them. They took the brunt of our landing because I had to be offline.” The mech looked down at his pedes, and the visored mech smiled. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that the other bot didn't find him interesting. He just had a few more pressing concerns.
“Well then, no time like the present.”
Once they were out of the room and safely down the corridor, Jazz nudged the other mech gently.
“I’m Jazz. What’s your name?”
“Prowl. Pleased to meet you.”
Back in the med bay, Wheeljack was staring with bemused dismay at the very empty berth, and Ratchet was thumping his helm against the chassis of his Prime (also bemused) in aggravation.
= = =
“Prowl! What are you doing out of the med bay?!”
“Jazz! You’re supposed to be resting!”
“Wow. Stereo parenting. And I thought only my folks did that.”
Jazz waved at Sam and Mikaela before a yellow mech descended upon him, vocaliser spitting static into his words at his agitation, and pouted a little on the inside when Prowl went to the two other new bots (and they were both taller than him too!) immediately. The mech’s doorwings twitched (and Jazz found his interest caught by them, strange, Bumblebee’s doors didn’t grab his attention quite so much) as he reached for the pair earnestly.
“I was worried about you. Are you alright? Were you hurt during landfall?”
“We’re fine. Primus, we’d better get you back to medical before Ratchet blows a fuse.”
Jazz leapt at the chance to escape a hovering Bumblebee, grabbing Prowl’s hand and smiling winningly at the twins. “I’ll take him! I know all the shortcuts! He’ll be back before you know it.”
The Solstice dragged Prowl out at top speed, leaving three rather dumbfounded mechs behind. A cackle had Bumblebee, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe turning to look at Ironhide, who smacked his thigh as he laughed, finally getting himself under enough control to smirk at them.
“Well gee. They sure grow up fast, don’t they?”
The black mech started laughing again, this time joined by two humans when the three mechs lunged for the door.
= = =
“I know you.”
“Hm?”
Jazz looked at Prowl in confusion and the chevroned mech repeated himself, more surely this time.
“I know you. A large part of my memory banks are currently blocked, but I know you.”
The Solstice stared, then looked up suddenly before pulling the other bot into another corridor. Someone ran past, the sound fading to silence before he stuck his head out to check that the way was clear.
“That was close.”
“Why are we avoiding everyone else?”
Because Jazz didn’t want to share right now, that’s why. Not wanting to actually say so, he changed the subject.
“My memory’s fragged too. I got damaged real badly, and for a while they thought I wasn’t going to make it, but I did. Look, I’ve still got the weld marks.”
“Do they still hurt?”
Fingers brushed lightly against the scars and the visored mech shrugged easily, feeling a warmth growing in his spark at the way Prowl looked at him, optics filled with the same concern he’d had for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker
“Nah. Not now. Only sometimes.”
“How did you get injured?”
“Dunno. That’s in the part of my databanks that’s still glitchy. But it was probably while doing something heroic.”
“I’ll bet. It would be a pity to be so badly hurt for anything less.”
Prowl stroked the welds gently, almost admiringly, and Jazz found himself blurting out his next words.
“Y’know, I think I know you too.”
“Oh? How do you know that?”
“’Cos this tells me so.”
Jazz took the hand that was still resting on his middle and pressed it against his chestplates. His spark pulsed in response and Prowl’s lips parted in surprise, then the chevroned mech was catching hold of his free hand to bring it to his own chest. It was Jazz’s turn to be surprised when he felt an answering pulse. Looking up at Prowl, he saw that the other bot was smiling.
“… So that’s what it was saying.”
“JAZZ! PROWL! Where are you?!”
They nearly leapt out of their plating when Ratchet’s bellow sounded from somewhere outside their corridor. Looking at each other with a mixture of alarm and amusement, they joined hands and ran.
= = =
One mad round of hide and seek later, at the end of which the two mechs in question were found in the med bay with Jazz trying to teach Prowl some sort of card game (no one had been fooled by the innocent looks they’d given everyone who’d been searching high and low for them), Sideswipe flopped onto the rec room couch, groaning as his servos protested the action.
“Ironhide, if Sunny and I were ever as bad as Jazz and Prowl I apologise from the very bottom of my spark.”
“Don’t worry. You and your brother never caused this much havoc as younglings. You didn’t have the kind of processing power these two are packing.”
“I think I’d be offended if I weren’t so slagging tired.”
“Dammit, if all they’ve got are their youngling memories, how are they kicking our afts?” Sunstreaker demanded.
“Master Yoketron believed that you could never be too young to learn what he had to teach.”
Sam eeped and nearly tumbled off his end of the couch when Prowl appeared, leaning over its back nonchalantly.
“And Lockdown wasn’t exactly the cuddliest of bots. You learnt fast or you got left behind.”
Sideswipe swore as Jazz popped up beside the doorwinged mech, grinning cheekily.
“That’s it. Sunny, you grab Prowl, I’ll take Jazz. Hopefully we’ll be able to keep them in their respective rooms for a full recharge cycle.”
Mikaela truly had her doubts that the twins were going to succeed, judging by the smirk Jazz shot Prowl. But it was good to be able to hand the mischievous Solstice off to someone else, so she didn’t bother to point that out to anyone, instead turning to Ironhide with a question.
“’Hide? Who were those bots Jazz and Prowl mentioned?”
“Master Yoketron ran a school for Diffusion and Metallikato, Cybertronian martial arts. The best on the planet, it was hidden somewhere on one of Cybertron’s mountains and only the select few who became his students knew where it was. Lockdown was an outlaw with a big bounty on his head; only no one dared try and claim it. He flew a ship with a small but ruthless crew, taking what he wanted from whoever had it.”
Sam groaned, burying his head in Mikeala’s shoulder. “… Bumblebee, please tell me that Prowl wasn’t raised by ninjas and Jazz by pirates.”
There was a pause that was too long for the young man’s comfort before he heard a quiet, “… You know, that really does explain so much.”
“Augh.”
= = =
The full moon shone down on the base, and as Mikaela had predicted, there were two mechs who weren’t where everyone else thought they would be. Moving quietly through the shadows, they climbed to the roof of one of the buildings to settle down under the night sky, a quick scan having determined that it would be able to hold the both of them.
“I don’t think they know how to fix us.”
“Me neither.”
“Ratchet’s good though. If anyone could figure it out, he’d be the one to do it.”
“Wheeljack’s good too. Now that they’re working together, they’ll probably find a solution relatively quickly.”
Jazz nodded, then pointed to another rooftop. “Hey, look, it’s Sam and ‘Kaela. What are they doing?”
“… I’m not sure.”
“Wonder why they’re doing it.”
“One way to find out.”
Before the Solstice could ask what he meant, Prowl leant close to press his lip plates against the silver mech’s cheek.
“… Oh.”
“A local custom, perhaps.”
“Not unpleasant though.”
“Shall I do it again?”
“For the sake of scientific rigour.”
“Then it behoves me to carry out a randomised sampling.”
Another press of lips to cheek plating, then to a silver shoulder. A delicate brush against a headfin, another to the tip of Jazz’s nose, and then the chevroned mech paused, causing the visored mech to whine softly.
“Curious. Your core temperatures are rising. Perhaps we should stop.”
“Let me try one first.”
Jazz’s lips met Prowl’s, and this kiss lasted much longer than the first few.
= = =
“Hey Sideswipe. Sunstreaker. How was your night?”
Twin glares answered Sam and beside him Mikaela giggled.
“Right. Say no more.” He hopped onto the sofa, extending a hand to the young woman to help her up before tilting his head at the sullen pair.
“So… How’d they get out this time?”
“Jazz took me by surprise. Little glitch lifted a sedative from the med bay and stuck me with it.” Sideswipe growled, and Mikaela raised an eyebrow at Sunstreaker.
“And how ‘bout you? Is Prowl just as light fingered as Jazz?”
“Hah! He didn’t have to do anything. Except maybe tell Jazz about us being twins.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” The young man queried, and from behind them Wheeljack answered, chuckling.
“Twin bots share a spark bond, and if one of the pair is surprised by say… a sedative… Well, see exhibit ‘A’ right here.”
Sam’s face brightened in understanding. “Ah, so whatever affects one affects the other? Uh… Wheeljack? You okay?”
“That’s it! That’s exactly it! I gotta talk to Ratchet!”
And the engineer ran out, leaving the two mechs and the two humans to stare at each other in confusion.
= = =
“You think this will work?”
Wheeljack nodded, ignoring Ratchet’s dubious look. “The effects of the program match Jazz’s symptoms. The timelines are also about right, I implemented it in Prowl before Jazz regained consciousness. And they’re bonded. It fits.”
“So you want to remove the blocks, just like that? What about…”
“Jazz has recovered. I’m sure that Prowl won’t relapse. And if he does, you’re better at yelling at him than me or the twins. But we should go slow anyway.”
The medic sighed. “Very well. Call him in, and let’s hope they don’t feel like hide and seek this time ‘round.”
= = =
The procedure was a success, even if Sunstreaker had to bolt for the med bay carrying Jazz after the mech collapsed, shrieking at the top of his voice, only to find Prowl in a similar state of distress. Shoving the saboteur into the doorwinged mech’s arms had calmed them both down immediately, and when the two mechs onlined next, it was with intact minds once more.
Ratchet had subsequently kicked them out of his med bay under strict orders to rest and not cause any trouble, orders they were only too happy to obey. Lying against his bondmate, Jazz reached for Prowl’s helm, bringing the tactician’s faceplates close enough to press his lips to the other mech’s. When they parted, intakes working a little faster, Prowl murmured softly.
“Such a strange custom.”
“But not unpleasant.” Jazz replied, and Prowl smiled in agreement before claiming another kiss.
“Not unpleasant at all.”