Is Forever Too Soon?
This thing gave me three different kinds of merry hell for days. I wouldn't call it my best work - I'm really rusty these days - ah well...
Title: Is Forever Too Soon?
Prompt: Viva Forever
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Prowl&Jazz (I've actually left it open to interpretation. You can view them as a couple or as incredibly close friends, it's up to you)
Verse: G1. Takes place in a slight AU after the 1986 Movie and Season 3
Warnings: Mild violence, supernatural elements, major character death
Notes: Written for the prowlxjazz anniversary challenge. Not Beta-ed
Is Forever Too Soon?
Do you still remember how we used to be?
Feeling together, believe in whatever, my love has said to me…
“Hey.”
Jazz looked up from his console where he was wrapping up his work for the day to look at the mech who’d addressed him.
“Hey,” he said in return, turning his optics back to his work and trying to pretend he didn’t hear the other mech sigh. “Long day?”
“Somewhat. Optimus has been trying to restore some balance between his old Command element and the new one that formed under Rodimus so that all parties will be content. I have been trying to help smooth out the proceedings.”
“You content?” Jazz still didn’t turn away from the monitor.
“I’m… happy to be back.” The reply was a little hesitant.
“Good to know.” Again, another sigh the Porsche pretended not to hear, this one a little sadder than the first. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Are you, really?”
“You shouldn’t have to ask me something like that.”
“I… Jazz, please…”
“Not now, Prowl.” Jazz picked up a couple of datapads he needed to work on later and left the room - and the mech - behind, pretending once more to not hear the sigh the other mech let out, heart-breaking as it sounded.
Both of us were dreamers, young love in the sun
Felt like my saviour, my spirit I gave you, we’d only just begun
“Hiding in here won’t help.”
Jazz looked up from the datapad he’d been staring at for the last hour without really reading it and glanced at the small black-and-white Cassette who was arranging some books nearby. “I don’t really wanna talk about it, ‘Wind.”
“And I’m not going to make you,” Rewind replied. “I just mean that this is where Prowl often comes when he wants to be by himself, so if you’re avoiding him, here won’t help.”
“Oh.” The usually talkative Porsche really didn’t have anything to say to that.
Rewind swapped a few titles out and put them in their correct places. “He comes here a lot.”
“Does he say anything?” Jazz didn’t know why he was asking.
“Not a lot. Not to me anyway.” He started to move away.
Jazz watched him go. “What does he say?”
The smaller mech paused and tilted his head, considering. “It’s not really my place to tell.”
“Rewind…”
Something about the look on Jazz’s face and the tone of his voice tugged at the Cassette’s spark and worried him at the same time. “He asks why he came back, what brought him back.” He paused, hesitating, then continued. “He asks why you won’t talk to him.”
“I can’t…”
Hasta manana; always be mine…
“You have to talk to him.”
Jazz sighed. “Bumblebee, leave me alone.”
“Not this time, Jazz. What’s going on with you? Of all bots I thought you’d be the happiest to have him back. He meant the most to you!”
All he’d wanted was to have some energon and get some recharge; exactly why he’d chosen the time when the rec room would be emptiest, so he could avoid every mech and their grand-creator telling him what to do with his time, like they knew what was good for him and Prowl.
They didn’t.
“He did.”
The yellow spy frowned. “And he doesn’t anymore?”
“Don’t say things that never came out of my mouth, Bee.” Jazz frowned in turn.
“What’s been going on with you, Jazz? You’ve changed. I’ve known you long enough to tell that much.” Bumblebee studied his friend and former captain closely. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was just something not right about him. Sure, they’d all been through the Pit and back, yet…
“Everything changes.”
Viva forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“Beautiful.”
Jazz lay on his back on the flat roof of one of Metroplex’s towers, gazing up at the clear night sky. “What is?”
“The stars,” the city-former replied. “I like looking at them on nights like this. It just makes me wonder how many hundreds and thousands of planets and suns are out there, and where Cybertron is in all of it.”
Jazz had to remind himself that Metroplex had been built on Earth and had never really left the planet. “Cybertron’s not so bright anymore. Wouldn’t call it a star.”
“Have you ever been to other planets, Jazz? I mean aside from Earth and Cybertron.”
The visor concealed a flicker of optics. He couldn’t, in good conscience, shoot down what was a purely innocent question, and the mech wasn’t even trying to pry. It didn’t make talking about it any easier, especially given that all he wanted was to forget.
At least they were not talking about Prowl.
“Yeah. Just the one.”
“What was it like?”
“Dark. Wasn’t a very nice place.”
Yes I still remember every whispered word
The touch of your skin giving life from within like a love song that I’d heard
”You are a strange Autobot.”
The voice echoed in Jazz’s head as he powered up his optics to look around, and frowning when he saw nothing but darkness. Well, that was alright. He was used to working without vision. It didn’t explain the voice he was hearing both inside his head and out.
“I get that a lot,” he replied. “Not exactly news to me.”
“The others were more afraid than you.”
“Yeah, well… not like I can see anythin’ t’be afraid of.”
“You’re not afraid of darkness.” It was more a statement than a question.
Jazz tried to stand and found himself weighed down more by a presence than any physical restraints. “Been a long time since I’ve been afraid of the dark. You gonna turn on a light? Or tell me where I am?”
“What of death?”
The blue glow of his visor dimmed considerably. “Got nothin’ to live for.” His spark hurt. He didn’t have to see it happen to know; something inside him already died the moment the shot was fired.
“Then I wonder if you would like what I have to offer.”
“I don’t make deals with devils. So if you’re gonna kill me, best to just get it over with.”
The voice laughed and a chill went up Jazz’s back at the sound of it.
“Oh, you will die, Autobot, of that you can be sure. I simply offer you the chance for your death to have some purpose.”
He struggled against the weight pressing him down. “There’s nothin’ you can offer me that’ll do that. Already told ya I got nothin’ worth livin’ for anymore.”
“Foolish, naïve Autobot, you do not know to whom you speak.”
“You never introduced yourself.”
“Then allow me to do so, and then I will make my offer. Somehow I do not think you will say no.”
Cold, bitter cold, the likes of which Jazz had never known before, flooded his entire body through every crack and crevice of his armor. He would have called it fog, if his mind had been in any state to recall what fog was in that moment. His very spark felt like frost had formed on its edges and icy needles of pain stabbed at every functioning sensor simultaneously.
He screamed. His mind felt like it had just been pierced by icicles and through the haze he could see images - the shuttle, the shot… and then… a change. A chance. Then a voice, as thin as a razor blade, and just as sharp and cold, cut through all of it with words that shook him to his core.
“I will not make this offer again. Make your choice…”
“Jazz?!”
He sat bolt upright, panting and shivering, as he tried to get his systems under control.
“Jazz, are you alright?” Again, a voice sounded all around him, but this time it was Metroplex’s, gentle and concerned. “You sounded like you were in pain.”
The Porsche shook his head, still trying to oppress the occasional shudder that still went through him. “Y-Yeah. I’m okay. Must have dozed off and had a nightmare.”
“Must have been some nightmare. I thought you were dying.”
“Nah… nah, I don’t go that easy.” Jazz looked up at the still-dark sky.
“I should hope not.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after four in the morning.”
He got to his feet a little unsteadily. Primus, he ached from the inside. “I should head in.”
“I agree. Try to get some proper sleep before your shift starts,” Metroplex said. “Thank you for spending some time with me though.”
“Was my pleasure.” Jazz dredged up a smile. “I like sitting here and just doing nothing sometimes. It’s peaceful, and Primus only knows how long that’s going to last.”
“You think the Decepticons will return?”
“Let’s hope not, but it’s not just the ‘Cons.” He sighed. “There’s still so much to do. I hope there’s enough time.” He said this last line so softly that Metroplex only thought he heard it.
The city-former watched the bot go and wondered at his comment. Enough time for what? he wondered. “What are you saying, Jazz?” he asked the dark, quietly.
Slipping through our fingers, like the sands of time
Promises made, every memory saved has reflections in my mind
“You need to stop running and face him.”
Bumblebee’s voice cut through the steam pouring off Jazz’s armor as the warm water of the washracks came into contact with plating that still hadn’t lost the chill of the earlier morning. It rolled off him like streams of mist and he wondered at how cold he still felt after that nightmare.
Well, he called it a nightmare.
“I’m not discussing this, Bumblebee, I told you that yesterday.”
“You’re not even giving him a chance.”
Jazz turned off the water and stepped out of the stall to dry off, chill be damned. He’d rather deal with the cold than have to sit through another lecture from someone who thought he knew what was going on.
“I’m all out of chances.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to back off and leave me alone!” Jazz’s voice dripped ice. “You’re dealing with things you don’t understand.”
Bumblebee did back up a step at the sound of his voice, then stood his ground. He was all too used to larger bots trying to intimidate him and he’d long since learned not to back down to them - even if it happened to be Jazz this time.
“I’m trying to understand. I know it’s hard. I was there, too, remember? I know what it was like.”
He wasn’t sure when Jazz moved, but in the next instant, Bumblebee found himself pinned to the wall, feet off the floor, Jazz’s hand at his throat and applying pressure.
“You know nothing.” Jazz’s voice was razor thin.
“Jazz… Jazz let go.” Bumblebee tugged futilely at the vice-like grip. “Jazz! This isn’t you.” He looked at his friend and his optics flickered. Later he’d wonder if it was the pressure to his neck that caused his optics to short or if he really had seen fine wisps of mist wafting out from within Jazz’s body. “Jazz!”
The mech never looked at him, his gaze fixed on the door. Bumblebee fought the urge to kick out at him, figuring it would only earn him his head getting ripped from his shoulders.
“You still want me to talk to Prowl?” the Porsche asked.
“I’m sorry.” The yellow mech tugged at the fingers. “I was just worried about you both. Jazz, please! You’re hurting me.”
Now Jazz looked at him, and Bumblebee shivered. “Do you really know hurt, Bumblebee?” the Minibot wisely kept silent. “Hurt is when the pain never really goes away, even when you think you’re healed. It just stays there in your head till you don’t know whether you’re imagining it or if you’re really hurting. So tell me, what is hurt?”
“I-.”
“I’ll talk to Prowl. He’s with… Optimus… isn’t he?” His head snapped back to the door. “Tell me, where is our dear Prime?”
Bumblebee hesitated, wondering if he should reveal his leader’s location when Jazz was in this state. “I don’t know.” The fingers tightened around his neck.
“Where, Bumblebee?”
“Command Center.” He didn’t remember anything else after that. Later on, mechs would say he’d tripped in the washracks and hit his head, since that’s how they found him.
“That wasn’t so hard.”
Hasta manana; always be mine
“You would think it would be easy to find you.”
Jazz whirled around as he backed out of the Command Center and came face-to-face with his black-and-white counterpart. Releasing the death-grip he had on his photon rifle, he quickly subspaced it and stood up a bit straighter.
“Now’s not a good time, Prowl.”
“And when is it ever going to be? Jazz… please…”
Jazz, please!
His visor flickered and when he let his vents release some air, it felt like a winter’s breeze. Prowl gave no indication he’d felt it.
“We’ve got nothing to talk about,” Jazz said. “I really can’t do this.
“Why does it pain you so much to look at me? Was it because you’d rightfully given me up for dead?”
Hurt is when pain never really goes away
“Because you weren’t supposed to die.”
“I didn’t want to…”
“I can’t, Prowl.”
It was the fastest Prowl had ever seen the mech walk away from him, and he wondered when Jazz had gotten to be so cold. “Jazz!”
Jazz!
The mech paused. “What?”
“I just… If you ever want to talk at some point, I’ll always be here for you.” Prowl swore it was because his optics had clouded over that he thought he saw a trail of mist follow him as Jazz resumed his walk and turned a corner.
Sighing, he moved to the door and looked into the Command Center. “Is everything in order, Optimus?”
“Quite fine, Prowl.” The Autobot leader turned to face him. “What of yourself? I heard you speaking to Jazz outside.”
Prowl looked away. “I can’t find Jazz anymore.”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“I’m surprised to find you back here so soon.”
Jazz slipped into the library and went over to where Rewind was perched on a ladder, sorting some datapads on a higher shelf.
“I need to do some research. Where do you keep the stuff on Earth lore?”
The Cassette tilted his head. “Eight rows down, left turn, all six shelves. There’s a lot of content though. If you can wait a while I can use the database to help you narrow down what you’re looking for.”
“Can’t wait, little buddy. It’s alright; I’ll search out what I need on my own. You go do what you need to.”
“Well… okay. Good luck.”
Jazz followed Rewind’s directions, glancing through the windows as he walked at the slowly darkening sky, and sometimes at his own reflection. He didn’t recognize the mech that looked back at him; he always thought he’d have more time to deal with this, find an answer. Now it was clear - there wasn’t a lot of time left.
He reached the shelves and scanned them as fast as his optics would allow, and finding what he needed, he started pulling books (however small or old) and datapads off the shelves and dumping them on a table nearby. Then he sat and started going through the data. When that wasn’t enough, he pulled more from the Cybertronian lore section, noting absently that Rewind had done a really good job of sorting and archiving just about every bit of information he’d gotten his hands on.
Yet in the end, it was only information. It gave him options, but no clear solution - that had to come from him - and the more he read, the more he realized what that solution might be. None now existed on Cybertron who were capable, and their human counterparts probably didn’t even qualify.
“This wasn’t part of it,” he said softly to himself. “It should have stopped when he died.” Yes, you hypocrite, it should have stopped then. It should have never gotten to this point his inner conscience chastised himself.
“That can’t be my only solution…”
The hours ticked by. Jazz was only vaguely aware of Rewind moving about in the front of the library. Probably cleaning up and getting ready to head out for the night, he realized idly as he scrolled through another datapad and then tossed it aside with a frustrated sigh.
“Jazz?” Rewind’s soft voice came faintly to him. “I should be closing up, but I can tell you’re deep into your work so I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thanks, Rewind.”
“You can leave everything where they are, I’ll put them away in the morning. Goodnight.”
The footsteps faded as Jazz flipped another page and scanned it; then another and another till all the words seemed to blur into one smear of black on white. Black, white… like Prowl,he thought. Like himself. Life, death. Clear-cut. It should never have come to this; such a haze.
”You could have just asked me for more. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“You’ll forgive me if I like t’get out of my own messes.” Jazz felt a shiver run through him. “Color me surprised t’know you’re still around though. Last I saw ya, you went kaboom, like ‘ol Wheeljack’s lab experiments used t’do.”
“I am not so easily destroyed. The physical plane is just one of many. I exist elsewhere, my power covers a universe.”
Jazz tried to stop his armor rattling. “That’s a lot of talk for a dude who got his can kicked by a kid.”
“Naïve Autobot, did you think the spores that caused the Hate Plague came into existence by mere chance? Or that they were found by mere coincidence?”
His spark felt like ice. “That was you.”
“How very intelligent.”
“What are you?”
“I am Evil. I am Chaos, Destruction and Despair. As long as these exist, I will exist, and the more I grow in these, the sooner I may take physical form again. All I require is a harvest, and someone to do the harvesting.”
A chill went through him like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on his head. “Farmer ain’t really my thing, I gotta tell you.”
There was a dark amusement in the voice that continued to unsettle him. “Child of Primus, did you think that to claim a life only meant death? How very black and white of you. It would be a shame to waste all the work that has gone into you. You have already proved very adept.”
“I won’t work for you.”
“You already are. All that is left is for you to reach your full potential, and that will be achieved once all trace of Primus has been erased. That has also begun.”
“What are you doin’ to me?”
Fog again, but this time he felt it pour out of his body rather than creep in. It spread till he could hear the light scrape of frost forming on some surface that he couldn’t see. Something shattered closeby and he struggled to try and visualize anything in the surrounding darkness.
“Cold is sometimes more efficient than fire. It consumes slowly. Nothing can grow in bitter cold save for a numbness to all feeling. Much like yourself at our first meeting; just like how you are now.”
“You’re wrong. I still feel something.”
“And what would this be?”
“Regret.”
Back where I belong now, was it just a dream?
Feelings unfold, they will never be sold, and the secret’s safe with me
“That will be taken care of.”
Jazz’s head snapped up and he pushed himself up from the table he assumed he’d fallen asleep on, looking around frantically for the voice that echoed in his head. He was trembling, and as his vision came more into focus, he saw the pieces of a datapad on the floor mingled with what looked like ice.
He looked at his hands, then at the table. Both were covered with a fine layer of what was unmistakably frost. Cold mist clung to him like vines despite his efforts to shake them off and he snarled in frustration. You’re not taking me that easily. Somewhere in his head he thought he heard laughter.
“Huh. Kind of cold in here today.” Rewind’s voice sounded from the front as the Cassette entered the library.
He could see the small mech powering up some of the room’s lights and systems and wondered if the mech’s body would shatter just like the datapad if it was encased in ice and dropped from one of the towers. Jazz shook his head hard. No! He’d already hurt one Autobot. He’d be damned if he hurt another. I’ll stop you.
“Jazz? Are you still here?” Rewind’s voice was closer.
Pain like a shock of lightning went through him and he nearly fell over, catching himself on the table just in time and dislodging a small stack books that toppled onto the table. He glanced at the texts, trying to give himself a distraction from whatever was pushing him to murder an innocent bot.
“It should have stopped when he died.”
“That can’t be my only solution.”
“Jazz?”
He knew it was.
He fled.
Using the shelves as cover to avoid being seen by the archivist, Jazz made his way to the library exit as quietly as possible and slipped out, praying the halls would be devoid of bots at this still-early hour of the morning. This was going to stop, even if it was going to hurt the ones he was closest to. He would make it stop.
“I’m sorry.”
Hasta Manana; always be mine
[I hate to wake you, Prowl, but I really need you to come to the library.]
Prowl stepped out of his quarters. “What is the matter Rewind?” He strode down the hall quickly, nothing the urgency in the Cassette’s voice. “Has something happened?”
[It’s Jazz. I think you need to see this.]
“I’m on my way.”
He broke into a run, skillfully dodging bots who were still sleepily making their way to their destinations and wondering why their resident tactician was in such a hurry. He ignored their queries, mind solely focused on getting to Rewind.
The Cassette stood at a messy table near the back of the library, browsing through some of the datapads and books that had been left. He looked up when Prowl entered, as worried as the bigger mech had ever seen him.
“What’s happened to Jazz?”
“Has he been acting strange lately?” Rewind asked, scanning another book quickly.
“Where do I start? Rewind please. What’s going on?” He carefully took the tiny - to him - book from the other mech. “What’s this?”
“Jazz came in late last night asking for reading material on that. I told him where to find it and I think he spent the night in here looking for what he wanted.” Rewind paused. “This morning when I came in, I thought he was still here because I heard some noise. Well, he might have left when I wasn’t looking, but I had a look at what he was reading and… Prowl this is a lot of heavy material.”
Prowl wondered when it had gotten so cold inside. That was forgotten when his mind started processing Rewind’s information and putting it together with Jazz’s behavior over the past few days. He didn’t like the answer he was coming up with - it seemed so far-fetched - but as he scanned through some of the text himself.
“Is this even really possible?”
“There have been cases recorded on Earth throughout history. From what I have been able to find regarding Cybertronian history… the most notable case happened during the time of the first Primes. I wouldn’t rule it out, Prowl. We never really knew what happened to him, and unless he’s told you, he hasn’t been talking about it to anyone else.”
He crouched and looked at the archivist. “In the event that this is really happening to him, how does one stop it?”
“There are… procedures… but I don’t know if we have anyone qualified. The other alternative, which I think he might have come to as well…”
Prowl stood. “How long since you found all this?”
“Not more than 30 minutes ago, but how will you find him?”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Jazz whirled around where he stood to see the police cruiser come to a stop and transform a few feet away. He frowned behind his visor. He wasn’t too sure why he’d come to this rise, but now, seeing Prowl here, he recalled how in earlier days, before being transferred to the Moonbase, the two of them would come up here to watch the sunset and listen to the river down in the canyon below.
It was a nice place to just sit and relax and just be, without having to think about which way the war was turning, or whether there were enough of them left to fight it. Of course he’d come here to think, and of course this would be the first place Prowl would look.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not? Enough running, Jazz. I’m worried about you and I have every right to be. What’s going on with you?” Was that really a fog surrounding him? Could Rewind be right, could Jazz really be under some type of influence? “Did something happen to you?”
Jazz struggled to not shiver at the coldness he felt slowly creeping on his internal systems trying to reach his spark.
“I gave you a chance.”
“A chance? Jazz, what are you saying? Please. Tell me what’s wrong, I want to help you.”
“You can’t help me.” Prowl had never heard Jazz sound so sad. “Not this time.”
“Why not?” It pained Prowl’s spark to see his once beloved partner so sorrowful, like he had given up something dear.
Jazz had to turn his back on the other mech so he wouldn’t have to see Prowl’s face. He looked across the gorge to the other side. How peaceful it looked, and so warm. “Because that was the deal.” No sense in hiding any more.
“What deal?” Prowl stepped closer.
“I knew when you died y’know. Don’t know how, but it just felt like someone had taken away my world… and then he showed up.”
“He?”
“Unicron.” Jazz sighed. “He ate the Moonbases, some of us got trapped inside.” Another shiver went through him. He wondered if the haze was just his tears blurring his vision or the fog around him growing thicker. “He singled me out for some reason, offered me a chance to… to bring you back. I felt so dead inside, Prowl. I couldn’t feel anything, and when he said those words… if it meant I could have you back, that you’d get to live out the rest of your life… I took it.” He lowered his head.
“Jazz…” Prowl took a few more steps towards him. “Don’t give up yet, we’ll find a way to help you.”
“A deal’s a deal, Prowl.” He shook his head. “It was so selfish of me. You were dead, but I couldn’t face the thought of life without ya. I never thought of how it might affect you.”
“I admit it’s strange to be dead one moment and then brought to life again, but Jazz, it should never have been at the cost to your own life. You have to fight whatever’s trying to take you over.”
Jazz glanced at him. “That was the deal, though at the time I thought it meant something else.”
“Was that why you were avoiding me all that time? Why you wouldn’t talk to me?”
He nodded. “I thought the deal was for my life. I thought I was going to die soon and I was just waiting for it to happen, and I didn’t want to get too close to you because of it.”
“What is this deal?”
“A life for a life, Prowl. That’s how it normally works. Givin’ up one life t’bring another back. I figured I was gonna die inside Unicron anyway and I didn’t wanna die for nothin’, so I figured that if I took what he was offerin’, then me dyin’ would at least bring you back.” He looked away again and Prowl thought he heard a whimper. “I was so wrong. He wanted my life, but it wasn’t to kill me. He wants t’use me; make me into one of his....”
“Wants to? Jazz, Unicron was killed. The Matrix destroyed him…”
He laughed, hollow and bitter. “That’s what I thought, too, but he’s still here and he’s-!” He was cut off by a pained cry that came from inside him and his body seized as the wreath of fog started to swirl around him.
“Jazz! Jazz, you have to fight!” Prowl wanted to go to him, but stood his ground for the moment, unsure of what was happening to the other mech and what he should do. “Jazz!”
“Run, Prowl.”
“I’m not leaving you alone here.”
“Please…. Run before I kill you.”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“This isn’t you, Jazz!”
Prowl wasn’t even sure if the mech could hear him. Whatever had taken him over had started to transform him physically. The horns on Jazz’s helm grew and curved inwards, ending in sharp points - a twisted homage to the demon planet himself. His fingers elongated and tapered into wicked claws for slashing and dismembering and what looked like icicles started to hang from his arms. The cold mist settled about him like tattered strips of fabric, turning him hazy so that the only thing that stood out was his visor, glowing an icy blue.
No, it certainly wasn’t Jazz, but Prowl obstinately refused to believe it.
“Jazz! You have to fight!”
The mech turned to face him. “Very well.”
It was just like being hit full on by iceberg, Prowl thought as he tumbled down the slope and smacked into a tree. Somewhere above him the creature that had taken over Jazz’s body was getting to his feet to attack again, and as Prowl rose, his natural instinct for self-preservation caused his battle computer to kick in and prepare a counter-attack.
This time when Jazz leapt for him, Prowl kicked him back squarely and shook off the frost that had formed on his foot from that brief contact. Interesting and worrying. It meant he couldn’t stay in physical contact with Jazz for too long, and he was loath to just pull out his weapon and shoot him.
“You have to stop this!” he said as he blocked a blow with his forearm. The cold burned his armor not unlike fire. “You have more control than this!” He turned sharply, swinging a doorwing to swat the mech away from him and put some space between them. A follow-up kick gave him a little more distance. “Fight it, Jazz!”
All he got was a sneer as they sized each other up again. Prowl sensed hesitation, like something - or someone - was holding the creature back from going all out against him. He wanted to hope this was Jazz’s doing from the inside, and he briefly thought about trying to lure him back to Autobot City where there’d be others around to help get Jazz back.
It was risky. There was no guarantee that Jazz would follow. Unless…
“What can a single disciple like you do anyway? You can barely hold your own against me.” It was a childish baiting trick, but he hoped it would anger him enough to give chase. He started to back up. “Can you even keep up?”
A gleam in the visor told Prowl he’d struck a circuit. “Then perhaps it’s time I made another.”
Prowl cursed the fact that the creature has somehow accessed Jazz’s rather creative intelligence, because the next moment a grappling hook caught onto one of his feet and flipped him onto his back, and as he hurried to get up, Jazz was on him, hands around his throat and forcing him back down onto his knees.
The wreaths of mist rose like tentacles and stretched towards him and Prowl felt cold invade his body like electricity. He placed his hands on Jazz’s wrists and tried to break the grip Jazz had on his neck even as he saw frost form on and spread from his fingertips.
“Jazz! Jazz, this isn’t you!”
This isn’t you
“You have to stop running and face him!”
Stop running and face him!
“Fight him!”
You have to fight!
He looked up into Jazz’s optics, through the visor, even as alarms went off in his CPU that his systems were under temperature assault and would start to shut down to stave off immediate deactivation.
“Did you bring me back just to kill me again, Jazz?”
I’m glad you’re back
The chill eased and Prowl threw himself back and away from the other mech as he revved his engine to generate as much heat to his systems that he could. In front of him he could see Jazz backing up as his visor flickered and changed shades between ice-blue and warm-blue. Fight it, Jazz, he mentally willed him. He got to his feet and went after Jazz.
“Jazz!”
Jazz turned, trying to shed the misty wreaths. “I’m tryin’, Prowl. I can’t… I WON’T let him use me.” He stopped at the top of the rise and looked across the canyon to the horizon beyond. “But I can’t fight like this.”
“We’ll find a way!” Prowl moved as fast as he could. “Let me help you!”
For a moment Jazz lost control and slashed at the approaching mech with those ice-tipped claws. Prowl jumped back. The claws retracted. “Prowl, this has to end.”
“I want to help you. Jazz, give me a chance.”
Jazz met his optics. “Then come and find me. I’ll be waiting.”
“JAZZ!”
Prowl leapt for him just as Jazz dived off the edge and into the gorge.
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
Prowl found Jazz at the bottom of the gorge, lying beside the river on a bed of rocks. The mist was gone, his features returned back to normal. He could almost be napping on the shore, Prowl felt, if he ignored the spike of rock sticking out of Jazz’s chest where he’d been impaled as he landed.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to just break down into spark-wrenching sobs, but he couldn’t. He just looked at the other black-and-white mech and felt a silent rage build inside him. This wasn’t over, something told him. Somehow he doubted Unicron would give up Jazz that easily, and given that he was alive again because of their actions, he knew there was something he still had to do.
Come and find me, I’ll be waiting.
He carried Jazz’s body back to Autobot City.
The sentries on duty ran out to meet him and cried out in dismay when they saw his burden, but he stopped their questions with a look as he passed in and made his way to the main block. More mechs looked on in shock and disbelief at the greying bot in his arms, but Prowl’s face remained stern. He would NOT cry until he knew for certain that Jazz was lost to them forever.
Bumblebee met him at the entrance.
“Prowl! What hap-!”
“Where is Optimus Prime?” Prowl cut him off.
“C-Command Center with Ultra Magnus,” the Minibot replied. “Prowl…”
“I require his presence in the medbay immediately. Please tell him to meet me there.”
Prowl strode past him briskly, once more ignoring all the bots that stopped to stare at what he carried; he had no time for them. But word spread faster than he could walk, and as he reached the medbay, First Aid was already waiting for them with a table ready.
“He’s already dead.” Prowl told him.
“I’m so sorry-.”
“Where is Optimus?”
The medbay door slid open and Prime himself came in. “Here. Bumblebee told me you asked for me. Is Jazz…?”
“He is.”
“How?”
“I believe Rewind can fill you in on the details of demonic possession.”
Prime and First Aid exchanged a look. “Prowl, this is a serious matter. Jazz is one of my officers, and I need to know what happened.”
“Do I look like I’m making a joke?!” Prowl snapped. “Am I laughing? I do not have time to explain all the details, Optimus, I simply require you to trust me. Time may be of the essence if we are to save him.”
“Save him? Prowl, he’s dead.”
Prowl sighed. “As was I at one point and yet here I am. I have reason to believe Jazz’s spark may still be recovered, and I intend to recover it.”
Prime frowned behind his battle mask. “And how do you plan to do this?”
Prowl looked him squarely in the optics. “I need your Matrix.”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
Wait for me, Jazz. I’ll be there soon
~ END. (for now).
Yes, yes, before you ask, I will hope to write the sequel to this using the next prompt. Wish me luck XD
Enjoy!
Title: Is Forever Too Soon?
Prompt: Viva Forever
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Prowl&Jazz (I've actually left it open to interpretation. You can view them as a couple or as incredibly close friends, it's up to you)
Verse: G1. Takes place in a slight AU after the 1986 Movie and Season 3
Warnings: Mild violence, supernatural elements, major character death
Notes: Written for the prowlxjazz anniversary challenge. Not Beta-ed
Is Forever Too Soon?
Do you still remember how we used to be?
Feeling together, believe in whatever, my love has said to me…
“Hey.”
Jazz looked up from his console where he was wrapping up his work for the day to look at the mech who’d addressed him.
“Hey,” he said in return, turning his optics back to his work and trying to pretend he didn’t hear the other mech sigh. “Long day?”
“Somewhat. Optimus has been trying to restore some balance between his old Command element and the new one that formed under Rodimus so that all parties will be content. I have been trying to help smooth out the proceedings.”
“You content?” Jazz still didn’t turn away from the monitor.
“I’m… happy to be back.” The reply was a little hesitant.
“Good to know.” Again, another sigh the Porsche pretended not to hear, this one a little sadder than the first. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Are you, really?”
“You shouldn’t have to ask me something like that.”
“I… Jazz, please…”
“Not now, Prowl.” Jazz picked up a couple of datapads he needed to work on later and left the room - and the mech - behind, pretending once more to not hear the sigh the other mech let out, heart-breaking as it sounded.
Both of us were dreamers, young love in the sun
Felt like my saviour, my spirit I gave you, we’d only just begun
“Hiding in here won’t help.”
Jazz looked up from the datapad he’d been staring at for the last hour without really reading it and glanced at the small black-and-white Cassette who was arranging some books nearby. “I don’t really wanna talk about it, ‘Wind.”
“And I’m not going to make you,” Rewind replied. “I just mean that this is where Prowl often comes when he wants to be by himself, so if you’re avoiding him, here won’t help.”
“Oh.” The usually talkative Porsche really didn’t have anything to say to that.
Rewind swapped a few titles out and put them in their correct places. “He comes here a lot.”
“Does he say anything?” Jazz didn’t know why he was asking.
“Not a lot. Not to me anyway.” He started to move away.
Jazz watched him go. “What does he say?”
The smaller mech paused and tilted his head, considering. “It’s not really my place to tell.”
“Rewind…”
Something about the look on Jazz’s face and the tone of his voice tugged at the Cassette’s spark and worried him at the same time. “He asks why he came back, what brought him back.” He paused, hesitating, then continued. “He asks why you won’t talk to him.”
“I can’t…”
Hasta manana; always be mine…
“You have to talk to him.”
Jazz sighed. “Bumblebee, leave me alone.”
“Not this time, Jazz. What’s going on with you? Of all bots I thought you’d be the happiest to have him back. He meant the most to you!”
All he’d wanted was to have some energon and get some recharge; exactly why he’d chosen the time when the rec room would be emptiest, so he could avoid every mech and their grand-creator telling him what to do with his time, like they knew what was good for him and Prowl.
They didn’t.
“He did.”
The yellow spy frowned. “And he doesn’t anymore?”
“Don’t say things that never came out of my mouth, Bee.” Jazz frowned in turn.
“What’s been going on with you, Jazz? You’ve changed. I’ve known you long enough to tell that much.” Bumblebee studied his friend and former captain closely. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was just something not right about him. Sure, they’d all been through the Pit and back, yet…
“Everything changes.”
Viva forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“Beautiful.”
Jazz lay on his back on the flat roof of one of Metroplex’s towers, gazing up at the clear night sky. “What is?”
“The stars,” the city-former replied. “I like looking at them on nights like this. It just makes me wonder how many hundreds and thousands of planets and suns are out there, and where Cybertron is in all of it.”
Jazz had to remind himself that Metroplex had been built on Earth and had never really left the planet. “Cybertron’s not so bright anymore. Wouldn’t call it a star.”
“Have you ever been to other planets, Jazz? I mean aside from Earth and Cybertron.”
The visor concealed a flicker of optics. He couldn’t, in good conscience, shoot down what was a purely innocent question, and the mech wasn’t even trying to pry. It didn’t make talking about it any easier, especially given that all he wanted was to forget.
At least they were not talking about Prowl.
“Yeah. Just the one.”
“What was it like?”
“Dark. Wasn’t a very nice place.”
Yes I still remember every whispered word
The touch of your skin giving life from within like a love song that I’d heard
”You are a strange Autobot.”
The voice echoed in Jazz’s head as he powered up his optics to look around, and frowning when he saw nothing but darkness. Well, that was alright. He was used to working without vision. It didn’t explain the voice he was hearing both inside his head and out.
“I get that a lot,” he replied. “Not exactly news to me.”
“The others were more afraid than you.”
“Yeah, well… not like I can see anythin’ t’be afraid of.”
“You’re not afraid of darkness.” It was more a statement than a question.
Jazz tried to stand and found himself weighed down more by a presence than any physical restraints. “Been a long time since I’ve been afraid of the dark. You gonna turn on a light? Or tell me where I am?”
“What of death?”
The blue glow of his visor dimmed considerably. “Got nothin’ to live for.” His spark hurt. He didn’t have to see it happen to know; something inside him already died the moment the shot was fired.
“Then I wonder if you would like what I have to offer.”
“I don’t make deals with devils. So if you’re gonna kill me, best to just get it over with.”
The voice laughed and a chill went up Jazz’s back at the sound of it.
“Oh, you will die, Autobot, of that you can be sure. I simply offer you the chance for your death to have some purpose.”
He struggled against the weight pressing him down. “There’s nothin’ you can offer me that’ll do that. Already told ya I got nothin’ worth livin’ for anymore.”
“Foolish, naïve Autobot, you do not know to whom you speak.”
“You never introduced yourself.”
“Then allow me to do so, and then I will make my offer. Somehow I do not think you will say no.”
Cold, bitter cold, the likes of which Jazz had never known before, flooded his entire body through every crack and crevice of his armor. He would have called it fog, if his mind had been in any state to recall what fog was in that moment. His very spark felt like frost had formed on its edges and icy needles of pain stabbed at every functioning sensor simultaneously.
He screamed. His mind felt like it had just been pierced by icicles and through the haze he could see images - the shuttle, the shot… and then… a change. A chance. Then a voice, as thin as a razor blade, and just as sharp and cold, cut through all of it with words that shook him to his core.
“I will not make this offer again. Make your choice…”
“Jazz?!”
He sat bolt upright, panting and shivering, as he tried to get his systems under control.
“Jazz, are you alright?” Again, a voice sounded all around him, but this time it was Metroplex’s, gentle and concerned. “You sounded like you were in pain.”
The Porsche shook his head, still trying to oppress the occasional shudder that still went through him. “Y-Yeah. I’m okay. Must have dozed off and had a nightmare.”
“Must have been some nightmare. I thought you were dying.”
“Nah… nah, I don’t go that easy.” Jazz looked up at the still-dark sky.
“I should hope not.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after four in the morning.”
He got to his feet a little unsteadily. Primus, he ached from the inside. “I should head in.”
“I agree. Try to get some proper sleep before your shift starts,” Metroplex said. “Thank you for spending some time with me though.”
“Was my pleasure.” Jazz dredged up a smile. “I like sitting here and just doing nothing sometimes. It’s peaceful, and Primus only knows how long that’s going to last.”
“You think the Decepticons will return?”
“Let’s hope not, but it’s not just the ‘Cons.” He sighed. “There’s still so much to do. I hope there’s enough time.” He said this last line so softly that Metroplex only thought he heard it.
The city-former watched the bot go and wondered at his comment. Enough time for what? he wondered. “What are you saying, Jazz?” he asked the dark, quietly.
Slipping through our fingers, like the sands of time
Promises made, every memory saved has reflections in my mind
“You need to stop running and face him.”
Bumblebee’s voice cut through the steam pouring off Jazz’s armor as the warm water of the washracks came into contact with plating that still hadn’t lost the chill of the earlier morning. It rolled off him like streams of mist and he wondered at how cold he still felt after that nightmare.
Well, he called it a nightmare.
“I’m not discussing this, Bumblebee, I told you that yesterday.”
“You’re not even giving him a chance.”
Jazz turned off the water and stepped out of the stall to dry off, chill be damned. He’d rather deal with the cold than have to sit through another lecture from someone who thought he knew what was going on.
“I’m all out of chances.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to back off and leave me alone!” Jazz’s voice dripped ice. “You’re dealing with things you don’t understand.”
Bumblebee did back up a step at the sound of his voice, then stood his ground. He was all too used to larger bots trying to intimidate him and he’d long since learned not to back down to them - even if it happened to be Jazz this time.
“I’m trying to understand. I know it’s hard. I was there, too, remember? I know what it was like.”
He wasn’t sure when Jazz moved, but in the next instant, Bumblebee found himself pinned to the wall, feet off the floor, Jazz’s hand at his throat and applying pressure.
“You know nothing.” Jazz’s voice was razor thin.
“Jazz… Jazz let go.” Bumblebee tugged futilely at the vice-like grip. “Jazz! This isn’t you.” He looked at his friend and his optics flickered. Later he’d wonder if it was the pressure to his neck that caused his optics to short or if he really had seen fine wisps of mist wafting out from within Jazz’s body. “Jazz!”
The mech never looked at him, his gaze fixed on the door. Bumblebee fought the urge to kick out at him, figuring it would only earn him his head getting ripped from his shoulders.
“You still want me to talk to Prowl?” the Porsche asked.
“I’m sorry.” The yellow mech tugged at the fingers. “I was just worried about you both. Jazz, please! You’re hurting me.”
Now Jazz looked at him, and Bumblebee shivered. “Do you really know hurt, Bumblebee?” the Minibot wisely kept silent. “Hurt is when the pain never really goes away, even when you think you’re healed. It just stays there in your head till you don’t know whether you’re imagining it or if you’re really hurting. So tell me, what is hurt?”
“I-.”
“I’ll talk to Prowl. He’s with… Optimus… isn’t he?” His head snapped back to the door. “Tell me, where is our dear Prime?”
Bumblebee hesitated, wondering if he should reveal his leader’s location when Jazz was in this state. “I don’t know.” The fingers tightened around his neck.
“Where, Bumblebee?”
“Command Center.” He didn’t remember anything else after that. Later on, mechs would say he’d tripped in the washracks and hit his head, since that’s how they found him.
“That wasn’t so hard.”
Hasta manana; always be mine
“You would think it would be easy to find you.”
Jazz whirled around as he backed out of the Command Center and came face-to-face with his black-and-white counterpart. Releasing the death-grip he had on his photon rifle, he quickly subspaced it and stood up a bit straighter.
“Now’s not a good time, Prowl.”
“And when is it ever going to be? Jazz… please…”
Jazz, please!
His visor flickered and when he let his vents release some air, it felt like a winter’s breeze. Prowl gave no indication he’d felt it.
“We’ve got nothing to talk about,” Jazz said. “I really can’t do this.
“Why does it pain you so much to look at me? Was it because you’d rightfully given me up for dead?”
Hurt is when pain never really goes away
“Because you weren’t supposed to die.”
“I didn’t want to…”
“I can’t, Prowl.”
It was the fastest Prowl had ever seen the mech walk away from him, and he wondered when Jazz had gotten to be so cold. “Jazz!”
Jazz!
The mech paused. “What?”
“I just… If you ever want to talk at some point, I’ll always be here for you.” Prowl swore it was because his optics had clouded over that he thought he saw a trail of mist follow him as Jazz resumed his walk and turned a corner.
Sighing, he moved to the door and looked into the Command Center. “Is everything in order, Optimus?”
“Quite fine, Prowl.” The Autobot leader turned to face him. “What of yourself? I heard you speaking to Jazz outside.”
Prowl looked away. “I can’t find Jazz anymore.”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“I’m surprised to find you back here so soon.”
Jazz slipped into the library and went over to where Rewind was perched on a ladder, sorting some datapads on a higher shelf.
“I need to do some research. Where do you keep the stuff on Earth lore?”
The Cassette tilted his head. “Eight rows down, left turn, all six shelves. There’s a lot of content though. If you can wait a while I can use the database to help you narrow down what you’re looking for.”
“Can’t wait, little buddy. It’s alright; I’ll search out what I need on my own. You go do what you need to.”
“Well… okay. Good luck.”
Jazz followed Rewind’s directions, glancing through the windows as he walked at the slowly darkening sky, and sometimes at his own reflection. He didn’t recognize the mech that looked back at him; he always thought he’d have more time to deal with this, find an answer. Now it was clear - there wasn’t a lot of time left.
He reached the shelves and scanned them as fast as his optics would allow, and finding what he needed, he started pulling books (however small or old) and datapads off the shelves and dumping them on a table nearby. Then he sat and started going through the data. When that wasn’t enough, he pulled more from the Cybertronian lore section, noting absently that Rewind had done a really good job of sorting and archiving just about every bit of information he’d gotten his hands on.
Yet in the end, it was only information. It gave him options, but no clear solution - that had to come from him - and the more he read, the more he realized what that solution might be. None now existed on Cybertron who were capable, and their human counterparts probably didn’t even qualify.
“This wasn’t part of it,” he said softly to himself. “It should have stopped when he died.” Yes, you hypocrite, it should have stopped then. It should have never gotten to this point his inner conscience chastised himself.
“That can’t be my only solution…”
The hours ticked by. Jazz was only vaguely aware of Rewind moving about in the front of the library. Probably cleaning up and getting ready to head out for the night, he realized idly as he scrolled through another datapad and then tossed it aside with a frustrated sigh.
“Jazz?” Rewind’s soft voice came faintly to him. “I should be closing up, but I can tell you’re deep into your work so I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thanks, Rewind.”
“You can leave everything where they are, I’ll put them away in the morning. Goodnight.”
The footsteps faded as Jazz flipped another page and scanned it; then another and another till all the words seemed to blur into one smear of black on white. Black, white… like Prowl,he thought. Like himself. Life, death. Clear-cut. It should never have come to this; such a haze.
”You could have just asked me for more. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“You’ll forgive me if I like t’get out of my own messes.” Jazz felt a shiver run through him. “Color me surprised t’know you’re still around though. Last I saw ya, you went kaboom, like ‘ol Wheeljack’s lab experiments used t’do.”
“I am not so easily destroyed. The physical plane is just one of many. I exist elsewhere, my power covers a universe.”
Jazz tried to stop his armor rattling. “That’s a lot of talk for a dude who got his can kicked by a kid.”
“Naïve Autobot, did you think the spores that caused the Hate Plague came into existence by mere chance? Or that they were found by mere coincidence?”
His spark felt like ice. “That was you.”
“How very intelligent.”
“What are you?”
“I am Evil. I am Chaos, Destruction and Despair. As long as these exist, I will exist, and the more I grow in these, the sooner I may take physical form again. All I require is a harvest, and someone to do the harvesting.”
A chill went through him like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on his head. “Farmer ain’t really my thing, I gotta tell you.”
There was a dark amusement in the voice that continued to unsettle him. “Child of Primus, did you think that to claim a life only meant death? How very black and white of you. It would be a shame to waste all the work that has gone into you. You have already proved very adept.”
“I won’t work for you.”
“You already are. All that is left is for you to reach your full potential, and that will be achieved once all trace of Primus has been erased. That has also begun.”
“What are you doin’ to me?”
Fog again, but this time he felt it pour out of his body rather than creep in. It spread till he could hear the light scrape of frost forming on some surface that he couldn’t see. Something shattered closeby and he struggled to try and visualize anything in the surrounding darkness.
“Cold is sometimes more efficient than fire. It consumes slowly. Nothing can grow in bitter cold save for a numbness to all feeling. Much like yourself at our first meeting; just like how you are now.”
“You’re wrong. I still feel something.”
“And what would this be?”
“Regret.”
Back where I belong now, was it just a dream?
Feelings unfold, they will never be sold, and the secret’s safe with me
“That will be taken care of.”
Jazz’s head snapped up and he pushed himself up from the table he assumed he’d fallen asleep on, looking around frantically for the voice that echoed in his head. He was trembling, and as his vision came more into focus, he saw the pieces of a datapad on the floor mingled with what looked like ice.
He looked at his hands, then at the table. Both were covered with a fine layer of what was unmistakably frost. Cold mist clung to him like vines despite his efforts to shake them off and he snarled in frustration. You’re not taking me that easily. Somewhere in his head he thought he heard laughter.
“Huh. Kind of cold in here today.” Rewind’s voice sounded from the front as the Cassette entered the library.
He could see the small mech powering up some of the room’s lights and systems and wondered if the mech’s body would shatter just like the datapad if it was encased in ice and dropped from one of the towers. Jazz shook his head hard. No! He’d already hurt one Autobot. He’d be damned if he hurt another. I’ll stop you.
“Jazz? Are you still here?” Rewind’s voice was closer.
Pain like a shock of lightning went through him and he nearly fell over, catching himself on the table just in time and dislodging a small stack books that toppled onto the table. He glanced at the texts, trying to give himself a distraction from whatever was pushing him to murder an innocent bot.
“It should have stopped when he died.”
“That can’t be my only solution.”
“Jazz?”
He knew it was.
He fled.
Using the shelves as cover to avoid being seen by the archivist, Jazz made his way to the library exit as quietly as possible and slipped out, praying the halls would be devoid of bots at this still-early hour of the morning. This was going to stop, even if it was going to hurt the ones he was closest to. He would make it stop.
“I’m sorry.”
Hasta Manana; always be mine
[I hate to wake you, Prowl, but I really need you to come to the library.]
Prowl stepped out of his quarters. “What is the matter Rewind?” He strode down the hall quickly, nothing the urgency in the Cassette’s voice. “Has something happened?”
[It’s Jazz. I think you need to see this.]
“I’m on my way.”
He broke into a run, skillfully dodging bots who were still sleepily making their way to their destinations and wondering why their resident tactician was in such a hurry. He ignored their queries, mind solely focused on getting to Rewind.
The Cassette stood at a messy table near the back of the library, browsing through some of the datapads and books that had been left. He looked up when Prowl entered, as worried as the bigger mech had ever seen him.
“What’s happened to Jazz?”
“Has he been acting strange lately?” Rewind asked, scanning another book quickly.
“Where do I start? Rewind please. What’s going on?” He carefully took the tiny - to him - book from the other mech. “What’s this?”
“Jazz came in late last night asking for reading material on that. I told him where to find it and I think he spent the night in here looking for what he wanted.” Rewind paused. “This morning when I came in, I thought he was still here because I heard some noise. Well, he might have left when I wasn’t looking, but I had a look at what he was reading and… Prowl this is a lot of heavy material.”
Prowl wondered when it had gotten so cold inside. That was forgotten when his mind started processing Rewind’s information and putting it together with Jazz’s behavior over the past few days. He didn’t like the answer he was coming up with - it seemed so far-fetched - but as he scanned through some of the text himself.
“Is this even really possible?”
“There have been cases recorded on Earth throughout history. From what I have been able to find regarding Cybertronian history… the most notable case happened during the time of the first Primes. I wouldn’t rule it out, Prowl. We never really knew what happened to him, and unless he’s told you, he hasn’t been talking about it to anyone else.”
He crouched and looked at the archivist. “In the event that this is really happening to him, how does one stop it?”
“There are… procedures… but I don’t know if we have anyone qualified. The other alternative, which I think he might have come to as well…”
Prowl stood. “How long since you found all this?”
“Not more than 30 minutes ago, but how will you find him?”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Jazz whirled around where he stood to see the police cruiser come to a stop and transform a few feet away. He frowned behind his visor. He wasn’t too sure why he’d come to this rise, but now, seeing Prowl here, he recalled how in earlier days, before being transferred to the Moonbase, the two of them would come up here to watch the sunset and listen to the river down in the canyon below.
It was a nice place to just sit and relax and just be, without having to think about which way the war was turning, or whether there were enough of them left to fight it. Of course he’d come here to think, and of course this would be the first place Prowl would look.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not? Enough running, Jazz. I’m worried about you and I have every right to be. What’s going on with you?” Was that really a fog surrounding him? Could Rewind be right, could Jazz really be under some type of influence? “Did something happen to you?”
Jazz struggled to not shiver at the coldness he felt slowly creeping on his internal systems trying to reach his spark.
“I gave you a chance.”
“A chance? Jazz, what are you saying? Please. Tell me what’s wrong, I want to help you.”
“You can’t help me.” Prowl had never heard Jazz sound so sad. “Not this time.”
“Why not?” It pained Prowl’s spark to see his once beloved partner so sorrowful, like he had given up something dear.
Jazz had to turn his back on the other mech so he wouldn’t have to see Prowl’s face. He looked across the gorge to the other side. How peaceful it looked, and so warm. “Because that was the deal.” No sense in hiding any more.
“What deal?” Prowl stepped closer.
“I knew when you died y’know. Don’t know how, but it just felt like someone had taken away my world… and then he showed up.”
“He?”
“Unicron.” Jazz sighed. “He ate the Moonbases, some of us got trapped inside.” Another shiver went through him. He wondered if the haze was just his tears blurring his vision or the fog around him growing thicker. “He singled me out for some reason, offered me a chance to… to bring you back. I felt so dead inside, Prowl. I couldn’t feel anything, and when he said those words… if it meant I could have you back, that you’d get to live out the rest of your life… I took it.” He lowered his head.
“Jazz…” Prowl took a few more steps towards him. “Don’t give up yet, we’ll find a way to help you.”
“A deal’s a deal, Prowl.” He shook his head. “It was so selfish of me. You were dead, but I couldn’t face the thought of life without ya. I never thought of how it might affect you.”
“I admit it’s strange to be dead one moment and then brought to life again, but Jazz, it should never have been at the cost to your own life. You have to fight whatever’s trying to take you over.”
Jazz glanced at him. “That was the deal, though at the time I thought it meant something else.”
“Was that why you were avoiding me all that time? Why you wouldn’t talk to me?”
He nodded. “I thought the deal was for my life. I thought I was going to die soon and I was just waiting for it to happen, and I didn’t want to get too close to you because of it.”
“What is this deal?”
“A life for a life, Prowl. That’s how it normally works. Givin’ up one life t’bring another back. I figured I was gonna die inside Unicron anyway and I didn’t wanna die for nothin’, so I figured that if I took what he was offerin’, then me dyin’ would at least bring you back.” He looked away again and Prowl thought he heard a whimper. “I was so wrong. He wanted my life, but it wasn’t to kill me. He wants t’use me; make me into one of his....”
“Wants to? Jazz, Unicron was killed. The Matrix destroyed him…”
He laughed, hollow and bitter. “That’s what I thought, too, but he’s still here and he’s-!” He was cut off by a pained cry that came from inside him and his body seized as the wreath of fog started to swirl around him.
“Jazz! Jazz, you have to fight!” Prowl wanted to go to him, but stood his ground for the moment, unsure of what was happening to the other mech and what he should do. “Jazz!”
“Run, Prowl.”
“I’m not leaving you alone here.”
“Please…. Run before I kill you.”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
“This isn’t you, Jazz!”
Prowl wasn’t even sure if the mech could hear him. Whatever had taken him over had started to transform him physically. The horns on Jazz’s helm grew and curved inwards, ending in sharp points - a twisted homage to the demon planet himself. His fingers elongated and tapered into wicked claws for slashing and dismembering and what looked like icicles started to hang from his arms. The cold mist settled about him like tattered strips of fabric, turning him hazy so that the only thing that stood out was his visor, glowing an icy blue.
No, it certainly wasn’t Jazz, but Prowl obstinately refused to believe it.
“Jazz! You have to fight!”
The mech turned to face him. “Very well.”
It was just like being hit full on by iceberg, Prowl thought as he tumbled down the slope and smacked into a tree. Somewhere above him the creature that had taken over Jazz’s body was getting to his feet to attack again, and as Prowl rose, his natural instinct for self-preservation caused his battle computer to kick in and prepare a counter-attack.
This time when Jazz leapt for him, Prowl kicked him back squarely and shook off the frost that had formed on his foot from that brief contact. Interesting and worrying. It meant he couldn’t stay in physical contact with Jazz for too long, and he was loath to just pull out his weapon and shoot him.
“You have to stop this!” he said as he blocked a blow with his forearm. The cold burned his armor not unlike fire. “You have more control than this!” He turned sharply, swinging a doorwing to swat the mech away from him and put some space between them. A follow-up kick gave him a little more distance. “Fight it, Jazz!”
All he got was a sneer as they sized each other up again. Prowl sensed hesitation, like something - or someone - was holding the creature back from going all out against him. He wanted to hope this was Jazz’s doing from the inside, and he briefly thought about trying to lure him back to Autobot City where there’d be others around to help get Jazz back.
It was risky. There was no guarantee that Jazz would follow. Unless…
“What can a single disciple like you do anyway? You can barely hold your own against me.” It was a childish baiting trick, but he hoped it would anger him enough to give chase. He started to back up. “Can you even keep up?”
A gleam in the visor told Prowl he’d struck a circuit. “Then perhaps it’s time I made another.”
Prowl cursed the fact that the creature has somehow accessed Jazz’s rather creative intelligence, because the next moment a grappling hook caught onto one of his feet and flipped him onto his back, and as he hurried to get up, Jazz was on him, hands around his throat and forcing him back down onto his knees.
The wreaths of mist rose like tentacles and stretched towards him and Prowl felt cold invade his body like electricity. He placed his hands on Jazz’s wrists and tried to break the grip Jazz had on his neck even as he saw frost form on and spread from his fingertips.
“Jazz! Jazz, this isn’t you!”
This isn’t you
“You have to stop running and face him!”
Stop running and face him!
“Fight him!”
You have to fight!
He looked up into Jazz’s optics, through the visor, even as alarms went off in his CPU that his systems were under temperature assault and would start to shut down to stave off immediate deactivation.
“Did you bring me back just to kill me again, Jazz?”
I’m glad you’re back
The chill eased and Prowl threw himself back and away from the other mech as he revved his engine to generate as much heat to his systems that he could. In front of him he could see Jazz backing up as his visor flickered and changed shades between ice-blue and warm-blue. Fight it, Jazz, he mentally willed him. He got to his feet and went after Jazz.
“Jazz!”
Jazz turned, trying to shed the misty wreaths. “I’m tryin’, Prowl. I can’t… I WON’T let him use me.” He stopped at the top of the rise and looked across the canyon to the horizon beyond. “But I can’t fight like this.”
“We’ll find a way!” Prowl moved as fast as he could. “Let me help you!”
For a moment Jazz lost control and slashed at the approaching mech with those ice-tipped claws. Prowl jumped back. The claws retracted. “Prowl, this has to end.”
“I want to help you. Jazz, give me a chance.”
Jazz met his optics. “Then come and find me. I’ll be waiting.”
“JAZZ!”
Prowl leapt for him just as Jazz dived off the edge and into the gorge.
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
Prowl found Jazz at the bottom of the gorge, lying beside the river on a bed of rocks. The mist was gone, his features returned back to normal. He could almost be napping on the shore, Prowl felt, if he ignored the spike of rock sticking out of Jazz’s chest where he’d been impaled as he landed.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to just break down into spark-wrenching sobs, but he couldn’t. He just looked at the other black-and-white mech and felt a silent rage build inside him. This wasn’t over, something told him. Somehow he doubted Unicron would give up Jazz that easily, and given that he was alive again because of their actions, he knew there was something he still had to do.
Come and find me, I’ll be waiting.
He carried Jazz’s body back to Autobot City.
The sentries on duty ran out to meet him and cried out in dismay when they saw his burden, but he stopped their questions with a look as he passed in and made his way to the main block. More mechs looked on in shock and disbelief at the greying bot in his arms, but Prowl’s face remained stern. He would NOT cry until he knew for certain that Jazz was lost to them forever.
Bumblebee met him at the entrance.
“Prowl! What hap-!”
“Where is Optimus Prime?” Prowl cut him off.
“C-Command Center with Ultra Magnus,” the Minibot replied. “Prowl…”
“I require his presence in the medbay immediately. Please tell him to meet me there.”
Prowl strode past him briskly, once more ignoring all the bots that stopped to stare at what he carried; he had no time for them. But word spread faster than he could walk, and as he reached the medbay, First Aid was already waiting for them with a table ready.
“He’s already dead.” Prowl told him.
“I’m so sorry-.”
“Where is Optimus?”
The medbay door slid open and Prime himself came in. “Here. Bumblebee told me you asked for me. Is Jazz…?”
“He is.”
“How?”
“I believe Rewind can fill you in on the details of demonic possession.”
Prime and First Aid exchanged a look. “Prowl, this is a serious matter. Jazz is one of my officers, and I need to know what happened.”
“Do I look like I’m making a joke?!” Prowl snapped. “Am I laughing? I do not have time to explain all the details, Optimus, I simply require you to trust me. Time may be of the essence if we are to save him.”
“Save him? Prowl, he’s dead.”
Prowl sighed. “As was I at one point and yet here I am. I have reason to believe Jazz’s spark may still be recovered, and I intend to recover it.”
Prime frowned behind his battle mask. “And how do you plan to do this?”
Prowl looked him squarely in the optics. “I need your Matrix.”
Viva Forever, I’ll be waiting, everlasting like the sun
Live forever, for the moment, ever searching for the one
Wait for me, Jazz. I’ll be there soon
~ END. (for now).
Yes, yes, before you ask, I will hope to write the sequel to this using the next prompt. Wish me luck XD
Enjoy!