Anniversary Challenge Fic (two days late, sadly)
Verse: G1, post the end of the 1986 movie
Word Count: 894
Rating: PG
Prompt: Anywhere by Evanescence & Yuanfen (Chinese): A relationship by fate or destiny. The "binding force" that links two people together in any relationship. (I'm going with the 'red threads of fate' concept here.) Summary- It is said that when Fate ties two souls together, it does so with a red thread that will not break no matter how many lives or deaths those souls will face. The death of one body before its time can stretch that thread to its breaking point but never beyond. Even alone, bereft of the partner promised by the stars, the souls are never parted. Some echo always remains, bound by that thread, until the two can be reunited.
Note: This could be considered a death fic, in a way. Just putting that out there.
Jazz sat in the quarters he and Prowl had once shared, helm in his hands and optics off behind his visor. The death of Optimus Prime and nearly his entire command structure had dealt a terrible blow to the Autobots, and much though Jazz had wanted to join his beloved, he'd remained with the Ark to keep things from falling apart until the new Prime could get his own command structure set up. As Rodimus Prime got things under control, Jazz found himself getting gently shunted aside, no longer third in command; no longer really needed at all. And with nothing to really focus on, the black and white mech could no longer drown out the sounds that haunted him both awake and in recharge. Sounds like voices - an auditory hallucination, he'd tried to tell himself - like Prowl's voice whispering in his audio.
Dear my love, haven't you wanted to be with me?
And dear my love, haven't you longed to be free?
So many nights with his Prowler's voice in his audios, but never Prowl in his arms where he belonged. And the longer he went without things to distract him, the harder it got to ignore that gentle, beloved voice. In a tiny, quite portion of his processor, he sometimes wondered if maybe grief had made him crazy; in reality, he was finding it hard to care if he was. Let him be insane if it got him even a piece of his Prowl back.
I can't keep pretending that I don't even know you;
And at sweet night you are my own.
Optics off, sensor net dialed back until he really couldn't feel anything, he could almost pretend that Prowl was there, holding him. Holding him and asking him to come away.
Take my hand...
Jazz flexed his fingers, as if to reach out to that hand he could so easily imagine was offered to him, as that quiet voice continued its plea.
I have dreamt of a place for you and I,
Where no-one knows who we are there.
His hand fell to the edge of his berth when no hand was there to meet his. A quiet oath was offered to that temping voice, cursing it for not just letting him go. He'd long dreamt of a day when the war would be over and he and Prowl could bond properly, the way they'd never dared to be. The way they'd never be able to, now.
All I want is to give my life only to you.
I've dreamt so long, I cannot dream anymore.
He cursed himself for it, too. He should have begged Prowl to bond with him anyway, and damn the war to the deepest parts of the Pit. But they hadn't wanted to risk leaving Optimus without his first and second lieutenants if one of them died and took the other with. Frag them both for thinking of the army first and not each other.
And the voice called to him again.
Lets run away, I'll take you there.
Forget this life, come with me.
Don't look back, you're safe now.
So like the words he'd spoken to Prowl when they'd realized their love. Realized how perfectly they worked together and how they couldn't imagine life without one another. Knew there were disapproving creators, or disbelieving mechs who couldn't see how Prowl was more than just a rules lawyer with a stick up his aft.
Unlock your heart, drop your guard...
No-one's left to stop you now.
Finally, Jazz stood and onlined his optics, sensory net still low. He straightened up what few things they'd managed to keep with them throughout the long war, leaving the room as orderly as Prowl had once loved it. And then, without a look back, he walked away from the room they'd shared, towards the entrance of the Ark. He greeted mechs he passed in the hall but wouldn't let them engage him in conversation, giving them quiet, not-quite-true excuses about things he needed to take care of.
All the while Prowl's voice followed him, softly approving of every step he took that brought him closer to where Prowl's form lay still and quiet.
We're leaving here tonight.
There's no need to tell anyone,
They'd only hold us down...
He made his way from the Ark towards the crypt that protected the bodies of Optimus and the mechs who had been cruelly murdered trying to protect Autobot City. He bypassed Red Alert's security systems and slipped into the peaceful darkness of the tomb. He felt he could have found Prowl's slab blind; he did offline his optics as he climbed up to lay along Prowl's still form. He rested a hand on the still, gray chest plates, over where a bright spark should have spun.
Slowly, his frame faded to gray as his spark raced from his chest to tangle in his love's, spinning red and silver before disappearing into the Well, where they'd be united until they were ready to become embodied again.
So by the morning light,
We'll be halfway to anywhere
Where love is more than just your name.
When the mechs of Autobot city finally found the two mechs, they were shocked to find a smile on Jazz's gray face.
And even more shocked by the small, matching smile that graced Prowl's own lips.