Trick or Treat
Title: Rare Pairing Halloween Trick or Treat Challenge
Rating: PG-13
Series: TFA
Pairings/Prompt: TFA - Optimus/Jazz- trick: "in the middle of the night"
Warnings: Mention of energon, slight gore. Hallucination? Disconnected style/writing?
Disclaimer: Not mine, but Hasbro's.
Authors Notes: Unbeta'd.
Gosh, writing this became so weird when that 'third bot' appeared, but also a lot of fun. I also experimented with Jazz's voice and POV to make him sound more distinct. They both ran away with it. Would love to hear feedback about that!
Condensation from the atmosphere clung to Jazz’s frame, running into his seams, along thinner plating. He shuddered, but he allowed it only along his back, not in his shoulders, not in his legs. Still, he stopped his hands and rested them on Prime’s chest, above the wound in his abdomen. It would do no good if he jostled anything.
The metal was warm, but not as warm as it should have been, even in the chill of this planet’s night. Disconcerted, he rubbed little circles on the faux-glass, waiting until his hands calmed down. He ignored the small purple stains he transferred to the truck. Just let him steer the beams of his head lights a bit to the side, so he neither saw those nor the wound for a cycle or two.
Optimus shivered with a low sound. Jazz brushed aside his queasiness and moved his hands to rub the truck’s upper arms, to get a bit of warmth into them.
“Don’t worry, I’ll soon be done, OP.” The ninja soothed. “Just lemme finish, then I’ll wrap you up nice and warm.”
If Optimus had heard him or reacted to what was happening in his unconscious-induced recharge, the truck settled all the same. Which was just as well or else he would have been likely in a lot of pain.
I thought being optimistic was Optimus’ trademark.
Jazz gently curled his palm around the side of the Prime’s neck. It was a good spot to check a Cybertronian’s temperature, as a large ratio of the body’s energon was routed towards the systems surrounding the processor, and the main fuel lines were free from armor to allow flexibility.
Colder than during his last check. Energon loss robbed the body of energy to keep systems running, including those to maintain a steady internal temperature. He frowned, although he had known that already. Jazz’s sensors weren’t as accurate as that of a medic, and the scanning probe displayed Optimus’ vitals, yet he always preferred to make his own views on a situation or on numbers. He always felt, if not better, but more secure when he could check on how things really were with his own mind and senses.
A water drop hit the nape of his Jazz’s neck. It was icy and chilled the alloy itself.
With another shudder, he drew back, wishing for the umpteenth time to idle his engine higher. The memory of too many metal limbs, too many optics, clicking, scraping across stone replayed and that wish withered as fast as it had bloomed. No way would he give out any signs that they were here just because he wanted to be warmer. His heat signature could betray them; or the ticking of his engine; or simply the rising of vaporized water, no matter if it was supposed to be around this area or not.
Unfortunately, Jazz anxiously thought, that means I can’t make much more heat than now. I hope sharing the blanket will be enough.
Bad enough they had crashed here in the first place and it happened Hadeen was setting when he left to search for a safe location for them to rest. That the dead of the last ray of sun light lured out some hostile… mechanoids, if what Jazz saw had been correct, was just the energon topping on the fragging oil cake.
Only you could have that kind of luck to land here in the first place.
Awesome. One comment from a disembodied voice was normal when you had nobody to talk to for a while. Or rather, it was so for Jazz when he was nervous and had nobody to talk to for a while. But that a second comment followed, with the threat to start a running commentary just because it was inherent to that tone meant one thing.
He had company - company that only he was able to hear, because it just existed inside his head and was imitating a certain somebody’s sparkling personality matrix. It was always Jazz’s dream to get nuts (the insane kind) in the prime (heh) of his life.
Of course his luck sucked enough that his insanity would grab onto Sentinel of all bots. Why not Ratchet? He would appreciate some gruff encouragements. But then, insanity wasn’t known for any sensible choices.
Hey, I resent that!
Of course ya do.
Amidst being cold and having a voice inside his head not his own, at least the ruins he had found were safe. Or were they? The critters had stopped coming after them when he entered this place, though that could have been because of all that water running everywhere on the ground. They hadn’t dared to follow him through a shallow river as he carried Optimus on his back to the other side before, but kept dashing madly back and forth on the bank.
He checked the perimeter all the more deeply, though his choice fell on this room because it was the driest. Score one.
Besides, only one entrance led inside, which he could easily defend should anyone dare to shove their hostile face in during the night, and the hole in the corner opened into a cave with connections to the outside. It was pretty wet, too, but that wetness didn’t enter the room. The room was chilly enough on its own, thank you very much.
Jazz wriggled his fingers to test if any more shudders would start. Thankfully none did, but for Optimus, he gave his arms one last rub, just so he felt Jazz was with him.
The sight of the wound made the ninja wince as it had the first time. Energon just wasn’t supposed to be outside of fuel lines. It wasn’t supposed to be outside their bodies save for Energon cubes, at all - least of all leaking from torn fuel lines and dropping to the ground. It was… it was just wrong. At least he could shut down his olfactory sensors or his tanks would be rolling by now.
Allspark, are you a new-sparked protoform? What’s with you and your anxious fiddling around energon? You jittered around the stuff we had in the Steelhaven’s cargo and now you get uneasy about some spilt-
Shut. It. I need to concentrate here.
No need to get testy.
Swallowing, the ninja focused on the probe’s data (ignoring the sticky feeling on his hands). Only one tear remained, and Jazz singled out the affected line, before he reached into his field kit on the ground next to him. He plucked a piece of the lump of sealing tar - thanks the Allspark he had kept it from his Elite Guard days - which he kneaded so that friction made it pliable. He stretched it into a stripe which wrapped it around the tear, careful not to jostle any of the other tubes.
The probe beeped a cheery green.
“All breaches closed. Energon loss has been stopped.”
Jazz sighed, allowing a smile for himself for the first time since their crash.
“See, OP? You don’t hafta worry about anything.” He murmured as he unplugged the probe from Optimus’ medical port. “I’ll just clean you up now, patch that wound and then we can get nice and cozy.”
He still can’t hear you, you know that?
He soaked up as much of the energon as he could with the sanitary wipes, before he welded a simple metal plate over the injury. It looked secure enough, but any movement too much on the truck’s body could tear it open again. They really needed a medic to look over the injury to treat it properly soon.
As I said, you’re pretty optimistic.
The ninja scoffed.
Yes, ‘soon’. There was no doubt for Jazz that the Autobots were going to find them. He wouldn’t accept anything less and if it DID take them longer- he would just need to get creative and make them hurry the frag up.
That was then and here was now, though. Optimus was still shivering and the Allspark knew how long it was until the sun would rise again. Jazz laid the heating blanket between the truck and the wall, and squeezed himself between wall, blanket and Prime. He pulled him back so he rested on the ninja’s chest, making it easier to wrap the cover around them both. He shifted and tugged until they were completely covered.
He startled when a tiny rev shook his chest. A low moan came from his companion.
“Prime? Ya hear me?”
Optimus waking up was awesome. Waking Optimus up when he needed to rest - well, it was a good sign that he onlined, wasn’t it, from a medical view point?
“Jazz?”
The Prime’s head sluggishly turned from side to side, while still resting on Jazz’s shoulder, making the ninja laugh. Mech, did that feel good.
“I’m right behind you, sleepy head.” He teased, nudging him by the chin so Optimus looked into the right direction. Dim blue optics spiraled wider and narrower at Jazz’s face. It was clear that he had no idea where he was.
“We’re inside a building. Pretty old, but safe.” Jazz provided. He was only able to guess how much he remembered from the crash.
“Why…?” Optimus’ face scrunched up in confusion to think about a reason for their presence here, where ‘here’ was, how they got here and weren’t they on a mission? It was obvious even just thinking exhausted his energy as his optics flickered between blue and offline. Jazz gently patted his cheek, easily breaking his concentration.
“Why aren’t we recharging? Just wanted to cuddle a bit with you.”
Sure, let’s go with that. That makes a lot of sense.
Hush, no comments from the peanut gallery anymore.
Optimus seemed to agree with the not-Sentinel voice, staring at the ninja. Although that staring could have been because he was already drifting off to recharge again and he hadn’t the energy anymore to do more than just squint. That pout looked so adorable on him that the ninja just had to smile.
What the frag is a ‘peanut gallery’?
Just keep quiet. Your comments don’t help. And you're ruining the moment.
… There’s a moment?
“… ‘m warm,” he mumbled as if this was a great revelation.
Eloquent as ever.
For Jazz it was and he grinned in relief that his idea was working. So he hadn’t just imagined it and Optimus was really feeling a bit warmer.
The truck’s head sagged more heavily against Jazz. If he wasn’t sure that the Prime hadn’t any energy left, he would have guessed his slight shifting was intentional so could curl in closer against the ninja.
“Is nice with you.”
“Of course it is. I’m the best pillow there is.” Never mind that Cybertronians didn’t need pillows, but details.
You are a crazy glitch, you know that? You fit right in with that rag-tag team.
Why, thank you. That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard so far from a voice that’s not even there.
When Optimus opened his mouth, Jazz pressed a finger against his lips this time.
“Hush now. Questions can come later and I’ll answer them all.”
Optimus’ optics stayed online.
“Recharge. That’s an order, mech.” Jazz said softly, but allowed no argument in his voice. The soldier in Optimus recognized what he was supposed to do and, with a last sigh, he followed orders. Tension bled from his body; his ventilations idled own to a healthy noise.
Jazz allowed himself to relax as well. He cupped the side of his face, thumb caressing the blue cheek arch.
“Crazy cat.” Was the fond murmur.
You are the crazy one. You all are.
Jazz wiped the voice away and finally it stayed gone. He needed to stay on alert for the rest of the night and had to kill a few megacycles for that at the worst. As much as he wanted to talk to someone, he preferred real bots; and the bot he wanted to hear the most was in recharge in the moment, with the only noises he was making the gentle purr of his engine.
That said… Jazz smiled and leant back, making himself as comfortable as he could.
It was a good noise and really nice to listen to.
“Night, Prime. Recharge well.”
Rating: PG-13
Series: TFA
Pairings/Prompt: TFA - Optimus/Jazz- trick: "in the middle of the night"
Warnings: Mention of energon, slight gore. Hallucination? Disconnected style/writing?
Disclaimer: Not mine, but Hasbro's.
Authors Notes: Unbeta'd.
Gosh, writing this became so weird when that 'third bot' appeared, but also a lot of fun. I also experimented with Jazz's voice and POV to make him sound more distinct. They both ran away with it. Would love to hear feedback about that!
Condensation from the atmosphere clung to Jazz’s frame, running into his seams, along thinner plating. He shuddered, but he allowed it only along his back, not in his shoulders, not in his legs. Still, he stopped his hands and rested them on Prime’s chest, above the wound in his abdomen. It would do no good if he jostled anything.
The metal was warm, but not as warm as it should have been, even in the chill of this planet’s night. Disconcerted, he rubbed little circles on the faux-glass, waiting until his hands calmed down. He ignored the small purple stains he transferred to the truck. Just let him steer the beams of his head lights a bit to the side, so he neither saw those nor the wound for a cycle or two.
Optimus shivered with a low sound. Jazz brushed aside his queasiness and moved his hands to rub the truck’s upper arms, to get a bit of warmth into them.
“Don’t worry, I’ll soon be done, OP.” The ninja soothed. “Just lemme finish, then I’ll wrap you up nice and warm.”
If Optimus had heard him or reacted to what was happening in his unconscious-induced recharge, the truck settled all the same. Which was just as well or else he would have been likely in a lot of pain.
I thought being optimistic was Optimus’ trademark.
Jazz gently curled his palm around the side of the Prime’s neck. It was a good spot to check a Cybertronian’s temperature, as a large ratio of the body’s energon was routed towards the systems surrounding the processor, and the main fuel lines were free from armor to allow flexibility.
Colder than during his last check. Energon loss robbed the body of energy to keep systems running, including those to maintain a steady internal temperature. He frowned, although he had known that already. Jazz’s sensors weren’t as accurate as that of a medic, and the scanning probe displayed Optimus’ vitals, yet he always preferred to make his own views on a situation or on numbers. He always felt, if not better, but more secure when he could check on how things really were with his own mind and senses.
A water drop hit the nape of his Jazz’s neck. It was icy and chilled the alloy itself.
With another shudder, he drew back, wishing for the umpteenth time to idle his engine higher. The memory of too many metal limbs, too many optics, clicking, scraping across stone replayed and that wish withered as fast as it had bloomed. No way would he give out any signs that they were here just because he wanted to be warmer. His heat signature could betray them; or the ticking of his engine; or simply the rising of vaporized water, no matter if it was supposed to be around this area or not.
Unfortunately, Jazz anxiously thought, that means I can’t make much more heat than now. I hope sharing the blanket will be enough.
Bad enough they had crashed here in the first place and it happened Hadeen was setting when he left to search for a safe location for them to rest. That the dead of the last ray of sun light lured out some hostile… mechanoids, if what Jazz saw had been correct, was just the energon topping on the fragging oil cake.
Only you could have that kind of luck to land here in the first place.
Awesome. One comment from a disembodied voice was normal when you had nobody to talk to for a while. Or rather, it was so for Jazz when he was nervous and had nobody to talk to for a while. But that a second comment followed, with the threat to start a running commentary just because it was inherent to that tone meant one thing.
He had company - company that only he was able to hear, because it just existed inside his head and was imitating a certain somebody’s sparkling personality matrix. It was always Jazz’s dream to get nuts (the insane kind) in the prime (heh) of his life.
Of course his luck sucked enough that his insanity would grab onto Sentinel of all bots. Why not Ratchet? He would appreciate some gruff encouragements. But then, insanity wasn’t known for any sensible choices.
Hey, I resent that!
Of course ya do.
Amidst being cold and having a voice inside his head not his own, at least the ruins he had found were safe. Or were they? The critters had stopped coming after them when he entered this place, though that could have been because of all that water running everywhere on the ground. They hadn’t dared to follow him through a shallow river as he carried Optimus on his back to the other side before, but kept dashing madly back and forth on the bank.
He checked the perimeter all the more deeply, though his choice fell on this room because it was the driest. Score one.
Besides, only one entrance led inside, which he could easily defend should anyone dare to shove their hostile face in during the night, and the hole in the corner opened into a cave with connections to the outside. It was pretty wet, too, but that wetness didn’t enter the room. The room was chilly enough on its own, thank you very much.
Jazz wriggled his fingers to test if any more shudders would start. Thankfully none did, but for Optimus, he gave his arms one last rub, just so he felt Jazz was with him.
The sight of the wound made the ninja wince as it had the first time. Energon just wasn’t supposed to be outside of fuel lines. It wasn’t supposed to be outside their bodies save for Energon cubes, at all - least of all leaking from torn fuel lines and dropping to the ground. It was… it was just wrong. At least he could shut down his olfactory sensors or his tanks would be rolling by now.
Allspark, are you a new-sparked protoform? What’s with you and your anxious fiddling around energon? You jittered around the stuff we had in the Steelhaven’s cargo and now you get uneasy about some spilt-
Shut. It. I need to concentrate here.
No need to get testy.
Swallowing, the ninja focused on the probe’s data (ignoring the sticky feeling on his hands). Only one tear remained, and Jazz singled out the affected line, before he reached into his field kit on the ground next to him. He plucked a piece of the lump of sealing tar - thanks the Allspark he had kept it from his Elite Guard days - which he kneaded so that friction made it pliable. He stretched it into a stripe which wrapped it around the tear, careful not to jostle any of the other tubes.
The probe beeped a cheery green.
“All breaches closed. Energon loss has been stopped.”
Jazz sighed, allowing a smile for himself for the first time since their crash.
“See, OP? You don’t hafta worry about anything.” He murmured as he unplugged the probe from Optimus’ medical port. “I’ll just clean you up now, patch that wound and then we can get nice and cozy.”
He still can’t hear you, you know that?
He soaked up as much of the energon as he could with the sanitary wipes, before he welded a simple metal plate over the injury. It looked secure enough, but any movement too much on the truck’s body could tear it open again. They really needed a medic to look over the injury to treat it properly soon.
As I said, you’re pretty optimistic.
The ninja scoffed.
Yes, ‘soon’. There was no doubt for Jazz that the Autobots were going to find them. He wouldn’t accept anything less and if it DID take them longer- he would just need to get creative and make them hurry the frag up.
That was then and here was now, though. Optimus was still shivering and the Allspark knew how long it was until the sun would rise again. Jazz laid the heating blanket between the truck and the wall, and squeezed himself between wall, blanket and Prime. He pulled him back so he rested on the ninja’s chest, making it easier to wrap the cover around them both. He shifted and tugged until they were completely covered.
He startled when a tiny rev shook his chest. A low moan came from his companion.
“Prime? Ya hear me?”
Optimus waking up was awesome. Waking Optimus up when he needed to rest - well, it was a good sign that he onlined, wasn’t it, from a medical view point?
“Jazz?”
The Prime’s head sluggishly turned from side to side, while still resting on Jazz’s shoulder, making the ninja laugh. Mech, did that feel good.
“I’m right behind you, sleepy head.” He teased, nudging him by the chin so Optimus looked into the right direction. Dim blue optics spiraled wider and narrower at Jazz’s face. It was clear that he had no idea where he was.
“We’re inside a building. Pretty old, but safe.” Jazz provided. He was only able to guess how much he remembered from the crash.
“Why…?” Optimus’ face scrunched up in confusion to think about a reason for their presence here, where ‘here’ was, how they got here and weren’t they on a mission? It was obvious even just thinking exhausted his energy as his optics flickered between blue and offline. Jazz gently patted his cheek, easily breaking his concentration.
“Why aren’t we recharging? Just wanted to cuddle a bit with you.”
Sure, let’s go with that. That makes a lot of sense.
Hush, no comments from the peanut gallery anymore.
Optimus seemed to agree with the not-Sentinel voice, staring at the ninja. Although that staring could have been because he was already drifting off to recharge again and he hadn’t the energy anymore to do more than just squint. That pout looked so adorable on him that the ninja just had to smile.
What the frag is a ‘peanut gallery’?
Just keep quiet. Your comments don’t help. And you're ruining the moment.
… There’s a moment?
“… ‘m warm,” he mumbled as if this was a great revelation.
Eloquent as ever.
For Jazz it was and he grinned in relief that his idea was working. So he hadn’t just imagined it and Optimus was really feeling a bit warmer.
The truck’s head sagged more heavily against Jazz. If he wasn’t sure that the Prime hadn’t any energy left, he would have guessed his slight shifting was intentional so could curl in closer against the ninja.
“Is nice with you.”
“Of course it is. I’m the best pillow there is.” Never mind that Cybertronians didn’t need pillows, but details.
You are a crazy glitch, you know that? You fit right in with that rag-tag team.
Why, thank you. That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard so far from a voice that’s not even there.
When Optimus opened his mouth, Jazz pressed a finger against his lips this time.
“Hush now. Questions can come later and I’ll answer them all.”
Optimus’ optics stayed online.
“Recharge. That’s an order, mech.” Jazz said softly, but allowed no argument in his voice. The soldier in Optimus recognized what he was supposed to do and, with a last sigh, he followed orders. Tension bled from his body; his ventilations idled own to a healthy noise.
Jazz allowed himself to relax as well. He cupped the side of his face, thumb caressing the blue cheek arch.
“Crazy cat.” Was the fond murmur.
You are the crazy one. You all are.
Jazz wiped the voice away and finally it stayed gone. He needed to stay on alert for the rest of the night and had to kill a few megacycles for that at the worst. As much as he wanted to talk to someone, he preferred real bots; and the bot he wanted to hear the most was in recharge in the moment, with the only noises he was making the gentle purr of his engine.
That said… Jazz smiled and leant back, making himself as comfortable as he could.
It was a good noise and really nice to listen to.
“Night, Prime. Recharge well.”