30 Days and 30 Nights: Day 5
Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: astrosecond ~ second, klick ~ minute, joor ~ hour, cycle ~ day, deca-cycle ~ week, orn ~ month, vorn ~ year
Day 5: "Why do I even bother?"
Jazz growled flinging the datapad onto the couch in anger and disgust. He stomped over to his music player, jacked the music up as loud as it could go and hit play. Then he offlined his optics and let the music dictate how his body would move. If anything could help take his anger away and clear his thoughts it was his music and dance.
Or so he hoped.
After a couple of songs it wasn't helping.
In fact it seemed to be having the opposite effect. As Jazz danced his rage boiled and festered to a point where he needed to release it before it consumed him completely. Always the improviser, he easily incorporated a few of his favorite fighting moves with his dance moves.
The wall was the first to suffer, followed by the floor, a chair, a light.
The music covered the sounds of destruction going on within Jazz's shared quarters. But it couldn't drown out his feelings from his bondmate no matter how much he tried to rein them in.
Prowl, having just returned to Iacon, immediately knew something was wrong. Jazz was upset about something and ignoring or blocking Prowl's attempts to reach out to him over their bond. Thus, as the tactician exited the shuttle it was no surprise when Jazz wasn't there to greet him like he usually did whenever the tactician returned from a mission.
Instead, Prowl's older brother Smokescreen was there. The somber look on his brother's face was yet another indication that something serious had transpired to cause Jazz's anguish and rage.
Prowl didn't hesitate.
"What happened? Why's Jazz so upset?"
"This," Smokescreen replied handing over a datapad to Prowl.
One look at the information and Prowl knew he had to get to Jazz. He told his brother to inform Optimus that he'd meet with his Prime as soon as he could for a debriefing. Smokescreen obliged, knowing that Prowl was the only mechanism on Cybertron who could comfort Jazz right now and that nothing, not even Primus himself, could stop Prowl from being there for Jazz.
Inside their shared quarters, Jazz's rage continued to control him. His optics were still offline, the music was still blaringly loud. He neither heard nor saw his bonded's entrance. So Jazz wasn't aware of the other mech's presence until the music was abruptly silenced.
Jazz on-lined his optics causing his visor to flare brightly and he glared at whomever dared to turn his music off. When he saw the sympathetic look of his bondmate standing there, guilt filled his spark and the turned away. Angry tears filled his optics as he clenched his fists.
"His death wasn't your fault," Prowl spoke softly, moving silently as ever across the room to wrap his arms around Jazz. The smaller black and white mech struggled to break free but quickly gave up as Prowl's arms tightened around him. "You know better than anyone the risks of being a special ops agent."
"Why do I even botha? Why do any of us even botha? We lose more an' more of ourselves to this cursed war! The fragging 'Cons are winnin' an' will get everythin' they want!"
"Then it is up to us to make sure that doesn't happen."
"Why? Why should I even botha?"
"Because deep down in your spark you know there are things worth fighting for, things worth clinging to with every parcel of energy we carry within our frames."
Jazz snorted, "Name one thin'."
Prowl moved to stand before his beloved and affectionately cupped Jazz's face in his hands, smiling fondly, "Love. You of all mechs know this. You were the one who taught me how love can drive us to be more than what we are. Love of our friends, our way of life gives us strength to defend all we hold dear in our sparks. Love gives us the courage to sacrifice our very life if it means saving the life of another."
"That is what ya believe," Jazz whispered.
"It is what you believe as well. It is also what Vroom believed. I know you were good friends and that you were preparing him to be the head of operations under Ultra Magnus' command in Kaon. He died for what he believed in, saving the lives of eleven younglings. It is for mechs like him that we must continue to fight. Personally, I can think of no other way to honor his sacrifice."
"Primus, I don't know wha' I'd do without ya, Prowl," Jazz gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Silly mech, you'll never be without me," Prowl purred, kissing his mate. "Now, let's clean up this mess."
"Sorry I lost control," Jazz frowned, drooping his head.
"Don't worry, Jazz," Prowl smiled, tenderly lifting Jazz's chin up. "Nothing of value was broken and I think it was time we did some remodeling anyway."
Jazz laughed heartily, feeling infinitely better. As usual, Prowl was right about how Jazz felt. And if any mechanism every asked Jazz why he was fighting in this war, the saboteur would give them a crooked smile, look across a room and say "You see that handsome black and white Praxian mech there with the pretty doorwings and striking red chevron? He is my reason for living, my reason for fighting, my reason for loving."
The End.