ProwlxJazz December 2010 Challenge Fic part duex
Title: Ghosts and Voices
Day: 21
Prompt: Longest Night
*Verse: Bayverse (2007/2009)
Rating: PG
*Words: 790
Other Characters:
Warnings: Post 2009 movie, nebulous time in the future. Jazz is, sadly, dead.
Summary/Notes: Mechs are starting to think Prowl is going insane. Jazz has figured out a way to cheat death. He just has to do it in a non-conventional way. Italics denote bond speech.
A lone police car sat on high ridge miles from civilization, sensors focused on the stars above him in the clear Nevada sky. Rather, it appeared to be a lone police car. Because there were so many people out for the lunar eclipse - people with telescopes and binoculars - Prowl had deemed it safer to stay in his Earth alt mode. He was in no way alone, for all that he was the only vehicle present on the ridge.
They’re startin’ ta wonder if yer processor crashed when ah died, Prowler.
The whisper of Jazz’s voice through a bond that ought to be dead and dormant was a balm on Prowl’s conscious.
I find it hard to care, Jazz. If my bondmate wishes to ‘haunt me from beyond the grave’, as the humans put it, I will welcome you with open arms. A brief, mental smile. If I have to plead insanity in order to have the whole of this night alone with you, I will do that and more, gladly.
* * * * *
The Autobots had welcomed Prowl’s arrival on Earth gladly enough, though their hushed behavior and the absolute lack of Jazz’s buoyant presence had dimmed that welcome. Prime’s quiet words about Jazz’s ‘noble death’ had done little to make the death of his bondmate easier to bear. They’d joined sparks - it was a miracle that Prowl was even alive, let alone sane.
The sane part was starting to become questionable. Scheduled to take the night shifts off for recharge and non-duty-related tasks. Rather than socializing with what members of the army that had reached the planet, Prowl chose to retreat to his assigned area (the spaces could hardly be called ‘quarters’ or ‘dorms’ when they were only separated by thin corrugated aluminum walls) and turn his attention inwards towards memories of his mate. He’d wondered why he was still sane - was it because the Autobots needed him so very much that the Matrix was forcing him to stay alive? Or was there something else? The first time he heard Jazz’s voice along their ought-to-be dormant bond, Prowl figured that he’d finally succumbed to insanity.
Jazz had laughed at him. If tha twins haven’t managed ta make ya crazy yet, Prowler, me stickin’ close won’ do it either.
Spark bonds had not been studied much before the war, and since the war had come, fewer and fewer mechs had bonded - and fewer and fewer of them were separated, so if one died, the other was generally in the same place. The jolting, tearing pain of the bond breaking was enough to distract a mech, which made for an easy target for the Decepticons. Prowl and Jazz had agreed to limit their bond as much as possible when the call had come down the line for Jazz to join the crew that was going with Prime to find the Allspark. Possibly, it was that limit on the bond that had limited the backlash of Jazz’s death; perhaps it had been the distance. Though the bond had pinged him with sharp pain and then gone flat on him, there wasn’t the tearing that had been described by mechs who’d briefly survived their mates. Prowl prayed that Jazz was only injured, and then had focused on staying alive long enough to make it to his mate’s side.
Jazz’s death had been crushing to find out about. The numbness from the bond made so much more sense. Jazz was dead, and Prowl was alive, and that was so very wrong. And the more he thought about it, the harder it became to believe that Jazz was really dead.
And then Jazz started to talk to him at night. Along the bond. Prowl kept the illogical event to himself, considering the possibility of a processor ghost and otherwise trying to ignore the episode when he didn’t hear the ‘voice’ during his duty shifts. The next night, though, Jazz’s voice was right there, telling Prowl how much he’d missed him and how glad he was that Prowl was still alive.
And to apologize for dying.
Ah won’t say ah wouldn’t do it again if ah had ta, Prowler, because ol’ Megs needed ta be slowed down. Might’ve tried ta find a better way ta do it, though. Prowl would never have expected anything else. He’d bonded to a courageous mech who believed - as Prowl did - that the Autobots were fighting for the right reasons. Ya can’t get rid of me that easy though, Prowler. We’re mates. Spark to spark forever, remember? Fer some reason ah can only reach ya when the sun’s down, but ah’m always here.
Day: 21
Prompt: Longest Night
*Verse: Bayverse (2007/2009)
Rating: PG
*Words: 790
Other Characters:
Warnings: Post 2009 movie, nebulous time in the future. Jazz is, sadly, dead.
Summary/Notes: Mechs are starting to think Prowl is going insane. Jazz has figured out a way to cheat death. He just has to do it in a non-conventional way. Italics denote bond speech.
A lone police car sat on high ridge miles from civilization, sensors focused on the stars above him in the clear Nevada sky. Rather, it appeared to be a lone police car. Because there were so many people out for the lunar eclipse - people with telescopes and binoculars - Prowl had deemed it safer to stay in his Earth alt mode. He was in no way alone, for all that he was the only vehicle present on the ridge.
They’re startin’ ta wonder if yer processor crashed when ah died, Prowler.
The whisper of Jazz’s voice through a bond that ought to be dead and dormant was a balm on Prowl’s conscious.
I find it hard to care, Jazz. If my bondmate wishes to ‘haunt me from beyond the grave’, as the humans put it, I will welcome you with open arms. A brief, mental smile. If I have to plead insanity in order to have the whole of this night alone with you, I will do that and more, gladly.
* * * * *
The Autobots had welcomed Prowl’s arrival on Earth gladly enough, though their hushed behavior and the absolute lack of Jazz’s buoyant presence had dimmed that welcome. Prime’s quiet words about Jazz’s ‘noble death’ had done little to make the death of his bondmate easier to bear. They’d joined sparks - it was a miracle that Prowl was even alive, let alone sane.
The sane part was starting to become questionable. Scheduled to take the night shifts off for recharge and non-duty-related tasks. Rather than socializing with what members of the army that had reached the planet, Prowl chose to retreat to his assigned area (the spaces could hardly be called ‘quarters’ or ‘dorms’ when they were only separated by thin corrugated aluminum walls) and turn his attention inwards towards memories of his mate. He’d wondered why he was still sane - was it because the Autobots needed him so very much that the Matrix was forcing him to stay alive? Or was there something else? The first time he heard Jazz’s voice along their ought-to-be dormant bond, Prowl figured that he’d finally succumbed to insanity.
Jazz had laughed at him. If tha twins haven’t managed ta make ya crazy yet, Prowler, me stickin’ close won’ do it either.
Spark bonds had not been studied much before the war, and since the war had come, fewer and fewer mechs had bonded - and fewer and fewer of them were separated, so if one died, the other was generally in the same place. The jolting, tearing pain of the bond breaking was enough to distract a mech, which made for an easy target for the Decepticons. Prowl and Jazz had agreed to limit their bond as much as possible when the call had come down the line for Jazz to join the crew that was going with Prime to find the Allspark. Possibly, it was that limit on the bond that had limited the backlash of Jazz’s death; perhaps it had been the distance. Though the bond had pinged him with sharp pain and then gone flat on him, there wasn’t the tearing that had been described by mechs who’d briefly survived their mates. Prowl prayed that Jazz was only injured, and then had focused on staying alive long enough to make it to his mate’s side.
Jazz’s death had been crushing to find out about. The numbness from the bond made so much more sense. Jazz was dead, and Prowl was alive, and that was so very wrong. And the more he thought about it, the harder it became to believe that Jazz was really dead.
And then Jazz started to talk to him at night. Along the bond. Prowl kept the illogical event to himself, considering the possibility of a processor ghost and otherwise trying to ignore the episode when he didn’t hear the ‘voice’ during his duty shifts. The next night, though, Jazz’s voice was right there, telling Prowl how much he’d missed him and how glad he was that Prowl was still alive.
And to apologize for dying.
Ah won’t say ah wouldn’t do it again if ah had ta, Prowler, because ol’ Megs needed ta be slowed down. Might’ve tried ta find a better way ta do it, though. Prowl would never have expected anything else. He’d bonded to a courageous mech who believed - as Prowl did - that the Autobots were fighting for the right reasons. Ya can’t get rid of me that easy though, Prowler. We’re mates. Spark to spark forever, remember? Fer some reason ah can only reach ya when the sun’s down, but ah’m always here.