Dance me to eternity
Title: Dance me to eternity
Part: 1/1
Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom
Anniversary Challenges: Week two prompt - Dance
Genre: slash, romance, drama, comfort
Warnings: Character death
Pairings: Jazz/Prowl
Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=
Summary: No one ever knew or even suspected anything. But now that HE was gone, it was hard to keep it all in, especially when not one spark was into the secret and there for him to listen.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^
Helpful Pointers:
Vorn - 83 years
Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
Orn - 13 days
Joor - 8 hours
Breem - 6 minutes
Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second
Klick - 1 millisecond
Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.
And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.
No one had ever suspected anything. Even after all this time, all the vorns gone by of war and despair, of loss and hope, of separation and the sweet promise of reunion, not a single bot had known they were anything more than friends.
In the beginning, they simply got along well, something that already surprised a lot of mecha. After all, one was the spitting image of chaos, the other the calm and order during the storm. Yet, it turned out they both had a knack for tactics. And while both worked in totally different manners, one drafting a rough plan only to improvise during action, while the other prefered to have the whole picture and creating the best case scenario that would hopefully be put into action flawlessly, it was obvious to them from their very first introduction that their characters were complementing the other's flaws.
Of course, the bots noticed that soon he was dragged along by his new comrade for energon, which he usually either forgot to take at all, or did so when alone. But HE would not have it, of course. And that was the start of their friendship. A friendship that their comrades thought was treated just like his friend treated every other bot he befriended.
It helped that most of the mecha did not exactly care what he did in his free time, mostly even whispering behind his back, that he did not even know the meaning of the word. And his friend was stealthy and valued their little time alone. Which meant no one ever found out when his comrade wanted to visit him.
Through talks and games he found out more about the other, while he allowed him to find out more about himself. They learned that they had even more in common. Like a love for music, a deep sense of justice and a humour that one showed openly while the other hid it behind a mask of stoic indifference.
Personally he thought it was inevitable that they should fall in love with each other. They did not bond; of course not. War made a bonding, where one would die with the other, far too risky for their friends. To lose their best saboteur as well as their best tactician would have been devestating for the Autobot cause.
But just because they did not bond, did not mean they did not share regularly and intensively so. It was another thing they discovered to have in common. Both were wild and dominating in the berth and their interfacing session often ended in pleasurable fights, that brought them the most intense overloads they'd so far experienced in their lives. His friend and lover once admitted jokingly that still waters did indeed run deep.
Sadly enough while keeping their relationship secret ensured in the safety of no Decepticon being able to realise their weakness and try to blackmail them, it also meant that long separations for special missions were only logical.
The day came when they had to separate. One was to travel with a small group of bots into space in search of the Allspark. The other to command the rest of the Autobots during their leader's absence into the fight with the Decepticons left on Cybertron.
Many, many vorns went by before finally the Autobots received word from Optimus Prime and the offer to seek asylum on a small organic planet called Earth.
He arrived with a small group of Autobots, under them his protege Bluestreak and Sunstreaker one of the infamous twins, Sideswipe, the other, already waiting for his beloved brother on Earth. Neither Bluestreak nor the twins ever suspected that there had been anything going on between him and his lover. And they were the closest bots he had that he would go as far as to call them "family".
The Autobots mostly thought they were comrades who worked well together. Therefore no one bothered to be too cautious with the news. In fact, those who did not specifically ask about his lover, like the twins, would not even be told anything. It was a logical step to take. They still had a war to fight and every single message of another comrade offline pulled the spirit of the Autobots down. In the past it had been his beloved who put the bots back together. But now, he was gone.
Prowl had realised that fact as soon as he touched down Earth and found Optimus Prime, Ratchet and Irohide waiting for their little group. Sideswipe also came along, his bond with his twin telling of the landing and the Autobot tactician and second in command could just imagine how the stubborn twin peskered Optimus Prime to take him along so he could see his brother.
To say Prowl felt grief when he realised Jazz was not there, as he would have been supposed to be in his position as substantive second in command, was an understatement. But he did not allow the waves of emotions to claim him. If he had been honest with himself that cycle, he would have embraced nothing less than lying down and just joining his lover within the Well of Allsparks.
However, he was aware that the war was far from over. They had a fight to continue and the Autobots needed him. Therefore he started to work right away, not caring that some mecha found it strange for him to throw himself into work, without even asking after friends and comrades.
Orns went by. In fact Prowl found himself working himself nearly into termination for nearly a quarter of vorns, doing his best, giving his all to finally, finally end the war. Some certainly started to wonder why he never asked to see Jazz's remains. Even if not all understood immediately, a lot fo the new arrived Autobots knew about Jazz's promotion for the mission and they wondered about his absence, when he was supposed to be with their Prime.
Prowl tried to never think about nor ask for Jazz's whereabouts. It would not help him any because deep in his spark he knew the answer and he also suspected he would not be of any help if he was to see for himself what his spark already mourned over.
But now, after over a quarter of a vorn, the war was finally over, the Autobots had won and Earth was safe, once again. With peace came the time where Prowl's tactical knowledge was no longer needed regularly. Of course, his knowledge still was a valuable function for planning the mecha's future. But peace did not keep the bots busy every klick during a cycle.
And not being busy forced the Autobot second in command to face his loss once and for all. He could feel the deep hole in his spark. Bonded or not, it honestly felt like he lost a piece of his spark, no matter how stupid that sounded. To face his sadness and the slowly developing depression, Prowl began to leave the base for joors at a time. It did not take long for him to find a place where he was in peace and allowed all the grief and sadness to come out in loud, wailing keens.
After he was done expressing his grief, he often started to think and remember the past. He recalled the smallest things, sweet nothings and gestures between his beloved and himself. But most of all, every time he recalled a memory, Prowl noticed a thing or two, he would regret.
For example the time Jazz tried to persuade him to skip the last breem of his working shift, or when the saboteur wanted to go out for a drive and Prowl deemed it not safe enough. One memory though, stuck to Prowl especially.
It had been during one of the few victory parties, their base had after a successful attack against the Decepticons. The bots had been happy, the high grade was flowing and even Prowl could not help but like the music that had been playing. Jazz was busy going from mecha to mecha, prompting to dance. When he arrived Prowl, no one thought anything of it when Jazz also tried to persuade the second in command to dance.
"Come on, Prowler", Jazz begged. "Ya just have t' dance, at least once."
But Prowl had successfully denied the offer. Jazz had not taken it too badly, but the tactician soon realised that it must have been something the saboteur wished to perform, because no later than them being alone in their secretly shared quarters, Jazz asked one more time for Prowl to dance, this time pointing out that no one was there with them to witness. Prowl however had declined again, telling his lover that he was not comfortable with the idea of dancing, no matter if they were alone or not.
Now though, when Prowl remembered that event back then, he deeply regretted his decision not to dance. What he would not do if he could accept Jazz's invitation to dance at least once. One more time, if he could have one more time with Jazz, he could redeem so many of these mistakes.
The Autobot tactician was so deeply lost in his thoughts, that at first he did not notice the music. When finally the soft sounds made it through the haze though, he was not sure what to think of it. He was out in the middle of nowhere. In fact, it should have been impossible for any music to be heard this far away out. And there was no one nearby who could have been responsible for the soft sounds.
While looking around and wondering if maybe the memory of that party and Jazz asking him to dance made him finally glitch and hear things that were not there, Prowl realised that dawn would soon arrive. The taletell morning mist had already gathered, making it hard to see through the fog, though even with the limited visibility his senses worked fine and they told him that indeed no one was there.
The tactician was all the more surprised was, of course, when he suddenly registered the dark shape of an approaching being through the fog. His senses still told him there was nothing, even if his optics said a different thing. But when the nearing figure was close enough that he could recognise the form, it was clear why Prowl could not sense the presence at all, especially the spark.
"Jazz!" the Autobot second in command whispered in shocked disbelief. The silver form of his dead lover stood in front of him, smiling softly. The music, Prowl was hearing, came from the saboteur's speakers, still playing softly.
"Heya, Prowler!" Jazz greeted the tactician and his voice sounded a bit off. Hollow, like they were in the middle of a cave where voices would echo off the walls.
"Impossible!" Prowl choked, optics glowing brightly with emotions.
The supposedly dead saboteur came closer. So close, that he could touch the tactician, which he did. The touch was warm, yet cold at the same time. It was a strange feeling. And while Prowl was still struggling with the absurdity and impossibility of the situation, he could not deny that the touch was welcome.
"Why should it be impossible?" Jazz softly asked. "Ah could see yer pain an' could hear yer spark callin' for me. It was so strong, Ah simply couldn't bear t' watch any longer, Ah had t' see ya, t' reassure ya."
"This is not logical", Prowl rasped out and he could already feel the first signs of an upcoming crash.
"Prowl, love, do ya really want t' waste yer precious time wit' crashin' over somethin' illogical?" Jazz softly asked, voice and face calm. "After all, Ah'm here an' Ah want t' help ya. So, does it really matter, what's going on, what's logical, if all ya should care is that Ah'm here?"
It was enough to prevent the worst. Because in the end, the saboteur was right. Prowl did not care about dreams or reality, he just wanted Jazz to be there, to stay, to never leave him again.
Jazz, who had always been better than anyone else at reading his lover and best friend's emotions, smiled slightly when he realised Prowl accepting the impossible.
"Dance wit' meh?" the saboteur asked softly. In answer the second in command nearly clung to the silver, smaller body of his beloved and nodded his head yes.
Chuckling Jazz changed the music for a fitting melody. The song now playing was still soft and slow, a Cybertronian love song that Jazz himself had sung to his lover so many times in secret inside their shared quarters. Their bodies swayed together, the saboteur leading, Prowl letting go of everything, allowing his mind and his body to float with the moment, to simply follow Jazz's movements and to enjoy the here and now.
The two bots danced like this for what felt like joors to Prowl. In truth barely three breems had past. The night was coming to an end. The first rays of sunlight already lightened the sky, trying to penetrate the fog.
"Ya're a great dancer, Prowler", Jazz whispered tenderly, before slightly chuckling. "Ah don't know what ya've ever been afraid of. Ya would've done great."
"I am sorry, Jazz", Prowl simply replied, explanations about his refusal in the past unnecessary in such a precious moment. "Though I am only as good because you are guiding me so well."
"Don't worry about it, love", the saboteur reassured, before slowly coming to a stop. "Ya'd do great even wit'out meh!"
They stood there into each other's embrace for a long time, both of them basking in the presence of the other. Finally Jazz moved slightly and looked up into the faceplates of the mech he loved with his entire spark.
"Ah'm sorry, Prowler", he sighed, "but it's time for meh t' go."
The tactician's immediate reaction was to tighten his embrace.
"Don't", he choked out, voice absent of the control over emotions he usually had. Instead desperation and fear could be heard within the tone. "Jazz, please, don't leave me again. I can't bear it. Not now, not when the war is finally over. I have nothing left but a lot of time to think and remember. My spark cannot bear it."
The second in command stopped, his body trembling while Jazz made small, shooing noises, trying to soothe him as best as he could.
"Jazz, please", Prowl finally whispered. "I am aware we did not bond, but I still feel like my spark has been ripped out. This is not living, this is agony. Please stop it, don't leave me alone again!"
"Prowler", the saboteur murmured, shock and deep emotion at the same time swinging within his voice. "Ah'm really not sure if it's th' right thing t' simply leave them behind. Ya know? Yer friends. They'd miss ya, don't ya realise?"
"But they will cope", Prowl answered, voice and demeanour suddenly calm, collected. "Bluestreak has the twins, as much as I still loathe to admit that I am happy about this. The war is over, we have peace. The Autobots are starting to be in higher spirits again and everyone can do whatever they always wanted to do. I am no longer needed, not my skills at least. It's the only thing that kept me going, the knowledge that they needed my tactical advice, that it was an important factor for winning the war. But no more, Jazz, no more. I have done everything that has been expected of me and more. Things are all right now for the others. But they will not be all right for me, never for me. I need you, Jazz. So please, don't leave me behind now!"
Jazz was silent for a long time. During his wait for an answer, Prowl's grip tightened, going as far as pressing into the sides of the saboteur's body in fear that any moment his lover might vanish in front of his optics. He was so very much afraid to let go. The deceased head of special ops however did not vanish. Instead a sigh-like noise escaped him and the silver head came to rest right against the place where Prowl's spark was hidden.
"Ah can see what ya mean", Jazz admitted sadly. "But Ah don't like it. All Ah've ever cared for was for ya t' live. Preferably t' live for both o' us. Ah'm sorry that Ah left ya, Prowler. It wasn't honestly mah idea of action but ya of all bots understand th' meaning of sacrifices, don't ya? Still, it's obvious t' meh now that mah wish simply isn't working. Or maybe, Ah'm more selfish than Ah'm ever comfortable t' admit. No matter th' reason, Ah always had a hard time t' deny ya anythin' anyway, beloved. Therefore, Ah guess we'll stay t'gether for longer. Ya'll stay wit' meh. But ya're aware that it means leaving yer friends behind, aren't ya?"
Prowl nodded his head, body held straight and face serious looking as always.
"As I said, Jazz, they will cope, they don't need me. They might miss me, but they are not dependant on me as I am on you, Jazz."
Jazz mouthplates formed into a smile, one quite beautiful even if a bit sad on the edges because they both knew about the consequences of their actions and decisions.
"Dance wit' meh some more?" Jazz asked and Prowl nodded, a smile of his own forming on his face. The saboteur started a new set of music and the two bots swung around again, bodies locked onto each other, their posture content and happy. The rising sun slowly began to illuminate their plating. Dawn was chasing away the fog, which started to slowly dissipate. And just like the mist in the air, the forms of the two contently dancing bots seemed to disintegrate with the fog until all that was left was the dying sound of the music till even that was gone.
And when the sun had risen higher, it shone down onto a clear and beautiful field of green grass, free of any fog or ghostly figures. The only thing of the night left behind was the lone body of a Cybertronian mech leaning against an old tree, form motionless and grey.
It was Sunstreaker who found Prowl joors later. After the tactician had been gone for most of the night and day, not answering his comm and his spark signature unable to be registered by any of the Autobots, they had gotten worried and organised search parties to find their missing comrade and friend.
It was the golden twin, a mech who had been closer to the Autobot tactician than the rest of the bots, who spotted the unmoving, grey form of his friend.
Ratchet was never able to resolve what happened to Prowl. All he could tell the others was that his spark seemed to have simply extinguished. And another thing turned out to be strange. Those who had first arrived on Earth all those stellar-cycles ago knew very well the place Prowl's body had been found. It was the place Jazz had been put to rest, after his death. The grave that was not marked in fear of Decepticons raiding it for spare parts. The place that Prowl had not been told about because he had never asked. How he ended up dead there of all places remained a mystery for all of the Autobots.
The same went for the smile that could be seen on the grey form's faceplates. Prowl had died with a smile upon his face. He must have felt happy, something especially Bluestreak and the twins took care to remember for comfort. Prowl might be gone, but he did not leave unhappily or in pain, that much seemed obvious.
The Autobots never found out anything about the deepest secret of their late head of ops and head tactician. Only one bot could sometimes be found looking into the direction he knew Jazz's and now Prowl's body rested at. He out of all mecha remembered the little details, the small gestures everyone else had overlooked while he could not help to notice after all that time working closely together with his second and third in command.
And sometimes, when Optimus Prime stood outside of their base, watching the stars, he thought he could hear quiet music and see the shadowed forms of his two friends dancing through the sky, while watching down on them with smiles on their faceplates.
And Optimus thought, that it was good just as it was. They would have time to catch up someday and be told the truth. One day, when all became one.
The End
Part: 1/1
Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom
Anniversary Challenges: Week two prompt - Dance
Genre: slash, romance, drama, comfort
Warnings: Character death
Pairings: Jazz/Prowl
Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=
Summary: No one ever knew or even suspected anything. But now that HE was gone, it was hard to keep it all in, especially when not one spark was into the secret and there for him to listen.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^
Helpful Pointers:
Vorn - 83 years
Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
Orn - 13 days
Joor - 8 hours
Breem - 6 minutes
Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second
Klick - 1 millisecond
Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.
And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.
No one had ever suspected anything. Even after all this time, all the vorns gone by of war and despair, of loss and hope, of separation and the sweet promise of reunion, not a single bot had known they were anything more than friends.
In the beginning, they simply got along well, something that already surprised a lot of mecha. After all, one was the spitting image of chaos, the other the calm and order during the storm. Yet, it turned out they both had a knack for tactics. And while both worked in totally different manners, one drafting a rough plan only to improvise during action, while the other prefered to have the whole picture and creating the best case scenario that would hopefully be put into action flawlessly, it was obvious to them from their very first introduction that their characters were complementing the other's flaws.
Of course, the bots noticed that soon he was dragged along by his new comrade for energon, which he usually either forgot to take at all, or did so when alone. But HE would not have it, of course. And that was the start of their friendship. A friendship that their comrades thought was treated just like his friend treated every other bot he befriended.
It helped that most of the mecha did not exactly care what he did in his free time, mostly even whispering behind his back, that he did not even know the meaning of the word. And his friend was stealthy and valued their little time alone. Which meant no one ever found out when his comrade wanted to visit him.
Through talks and games he found out more about the other, while he allowed him to find out more about himself. They learned that they had even more in common. Like a love for music, a deep sense of justice and a humour that one showed openly while the other hid it behind a mask of stoic indifference.
Personally he thought it was inevitable that they should fall in love with each other. They did not bond; of course not. War made a bonding, where one would die with the other, far too risky for their friends. To lose their best saboteur as well as their best tactician would have been devestating for the Autobot cause.
But just because they did not bond, did not mean they did not share regularly and intensively so. It was another thing they discovered to have in common. Both were wild and dominating in the berth and their interfacing session often ended in pleasurable fights, that brought them the most intense overloads they'd so far experienced in their lives. His friend and lover once admitted jokingly that still waters did indeed run deep.
Sadly enough while keeping their relationship secret ensured in the safety of no Decepticon being able to realise their weakness and try to blackmail them, it also meant that long separations for special missions were only logical.
The day came when they had to separate. One was to travel with a small group of bots into space in search of the Allspark. The other to command the rest of the Autobots during their leader's absence into the fight with the Decepticons left on Cybertron.
Many, many vorns went by before finally the Autobots received word from Optimus Prime and the offer to seek asylum on a small organic planet called Earth.
He arrived with a small group of Autobots, under them his protege Bluestreak and Sunstreaker one of the infamous twins, Sideswipe, the other, already waiting for his beloved brother on Earth. Neither Bluestreak nor the twins ever suspected that there had been anything going on between him and his lover. And they were the closest bots he had that he would go as far as to call them "family".
The Autobots mostly thought they were comrades who worked well together. Therefore no one bothered to be too cautious with the news. In fact, those who did not specifically ask about his lover, like the twins, would not even be told anything. It was a logical step to take. They still had a war to fight and every single message of another comrade offline pulled the spirit of the Autobots down. In the past it had been his beloved who put the bots back together. But now, he was gone.
Prowl had realised that fact as soon as he touched down Earth and found Optimus Prime, Ratchet and Irohide waiting for their little group. Sideswipe also came along, his bond with his twin telling of the landing and the Autobot tactician and second in command could just imagine how the stubborn twin peskered Optimus Prime to take him along so he could see his brother.
To say Prowl felt grief when he realised Jazz was not there, as he would have been supposed to be in his position as substantive second in command, was an understatement. But he did not allow the waves of emotions to claim him. If he had been honest with himself that cycle, he would have embraced nothing less than lying down and just joining his lover within the Well of Allsparks.
However, he was aware that the war was far from over. They had a fight to continue and the Autobots needed him. Therefore he started to work right away, not caring that some mecha found it strange for him to throw himself into work, without even asking after friends and comrades.
Orns went by. In fact Prowl found himself working himself nearly into termination for nearly a quarter of vorns, doing his best, giving his all to finally, finally end the war. Some certainly started to wonder why he never asked to see Jazz's remains. Even if not all understood immediately, a lot fo the new arrived Autobots knew about Jazz's promotion for the mission and they wondered about his absence, when he was supposed to be with their Prime.
Prowl tried to never think about nor ask for Jazz's whereabouts. It would not help him any because deep in his spark he knew the answer and he also suspected he would not be of any help if he was to see for himself what his spark already mourned over.
But now, after over a quarter of a vorn, the war was finally over, the Autobots had won and Earth was safe, once again. With peace came the time where Prowl's tactical knowledge was no longer needed regularly. Of course, his knowledge still was a valuable function for planning the mecha's future. But peace did not keep the bots busy every klick during a cycle.
And not being busy forced the Autobot second in command to face his loss once and for all. He could feel the deep hole in his spark. Bonded or not, it honestly felt like he lost a piece of his spark, no matter how stupid that sounded. To face his sadness and the slowly developing depression, Prowl began to leave the base for joors at a time. It did not take long for him to find a place where he was in peace and allowed all the grief and sadness to come out in loud, wailing keens.
After he was done expressing his grief, he often started to think and remember the past. He recalled the smallest things, sweet nothings and gestures between his beloved and himself. But most of all, every time he recalled a memory, Prowl noticed a thing or two, he would regret.
For example the time Jazz tried to persuade him to skip the last breem of his working shift, or when the saboteur wanted to go out for a drive and Prowl deemed it not safe enough. One memory though, stuck to Prowl especially.
It had been during one of the few victory parties, their base had after a successful attack against the Decepticons. The bots had been happy, the high grade was flowing and even Prowl could not help but like the music that had been playing. Jazz was busy going from mecha to mecha, prompting to dance. When he arrived Prowl, no one thought anything of it when Jazz also tried to persuade the second in command to dance.
"Come on, Prowler", Jazz begged. "Ya just have t' dance, at least once."
But Prowl had successfully denied the offer. Jazz had not taken it too badly, but the tactician soon realised that it must have been something the saboteur wished to perform, because no later than them being alone in their secretly shared quarters, Jazz asked one more time for Prowl to dance, this time pointing out that no one was there with them to witness. Prowl however had declined again, telling his lover that he was not comfortable with the idea of dancing, no matter if they were alone or not.
Now though, when Prowl remembered that event back then, he deeply regretted his decision not to dance. What he would not do if he could accept Jazz's invitation to dance at least once. One more time, if he could have one more time with Jazz, he could redeem so many of these mistakes.
The Autobot tactician was so deeply lost in his thoughts, that at first he did not notice the music. When finally the soft sounds made it through the haze though, he was not sure what to think of it. He was out in the middle of nowhere. In fact, it should have been impossible for any music to be heard this far away out. And there was no one nearby who could have been responsible for the soft sounds.
While looking around and wondering if maybe the memory of that party and Jazz asking him to dance made him finally glitch and hear things that were not there, Prowl realised that dawn would soon arrive. The taletell morning mist had already gathered, making it hard to see through the fog, though even with the limited visibility his senses worked fine and they told him that indeed no one was there.
The tactician was all the more surprised was, of course, when he suddenly registered the dark shape of an approaching being through the fog. His senses still told him there was nothing, even if his optics said a different thing. But when the nearing figure was close enough that he could recognise the form, it was clear why Prowl could not sense the presence at all, especially the spark.
"Jazz!" the Autobot second in command whispered in shocked disbelief. The silver form of his dead lover stood in front of him, smiling softly. The music, Prowl was hearing, came from the saboteur's speakers, still playing softly.
"Heya, Prowler!" Jazz greeted the tactician and his voice sounded a bit off. Hollow, like they were in the middle of a cave where voices would echo off the walls.
"Impossible!" Prowl choked, optics glowing brightly with emotions.
The supposedly dead saboteur came closer. So close, that he could touch the tactician, which he did. The touch was warm, yet cold at the same time. It was a strange feeling. And while Prowl was still struggling with the absurdity and impossibility of the situation, he could not deny that the touch was welcome.
"Why should it be impossible?" Jazz softly asked. "Ah could see yer pain an' could hear yer spark callin' for me. It was so strong, Ah simply couldn't bear t' watch any longer, Ah had t' see ya, t' reassure ya."
"This is not logical", Prowl rasped out and he could already feel the first signs of an upcoming crash.
"Prowl, love, do ya really want t' waste yer precious time wit' crashin' over somethin' illogical?" Jazz softly asked, voice and face calm. "After all, Ah'm here an' Ah want t' help ya. So, does it really matter, what's going on, what's logical, if all ya should care is that Ah'm here?"
It was enough to prevent the worst. Because in the end, the saboteur was right. Prowl did not care about dreams or reality, he just wanted Jazz to be there, to stay, to never leave him again.
Jazz, who had always been better than anyone else at reading his lover and best friend's emotions, smiled slightly when he realised Prowl accepting the impossible.
"Dance wit' meh?" the saboteur asked softly. In answer the second in command nearly clung to the silver, smaller body of his beloved and nodded his head yes.
Chuckling Jazz changed the music for a fitting melody. The song now playing was still soft and slow, a Cybertronian love song that Jazz himself had sung to his lover so many times in secret inside their shared quarters. Their bodies swayed together, the saboteur leading, Prowl letting go of everything, allowing his mind and his body to float with the moment, to simply follow Jazz's movements and to enjoy the here and now.
The two bots danced like this for what felt like joors to Prowl. In truth barely three breems had past. The night was coming to an end. The first rays of sunlight already lightened the sky, trying to penetrate the fog.
"Ya're a great dancer, Prowler", Jazz whispered tenderly, before slightly chuckling. "Ah don't know what ya've ever been afraid of. Ya would've done great."
"I am sorry, Jazz", Prowl simply replied, explanations about his refusal in the past unnecessary in such a precious moment. "Though I am only as good because you are guiding me so well."
"Don't worry about it, love", the saboteur reassured, before slowly coming to a stop. "Ya'd do great even wit'out meh!"
They stood there into each other's embrace for a long time, both of them basking in the presence of the other. Finally Jazz moved slightly and looked up into the faceplates of the mech he loved with his entire spark.
"Ah'm sorry, Prowler", he sighed, "but it's time for meh t' go."
The tactician's immediate reaction was to tighten his embrace.
"Don't", he choked out, voice absent of the control over emotions he usually had. Instead desperation and fear could be heard within the tone. "Jazz, please, don't leave me again. I can't bear it. Not now, not when the war is finally over. I have nothing left but a lot of time to think and remember. My spark cannot bear it."
The second in command stopped, his body trembling while Jazz made small, shooing noises, trying to soothe him as best as he could.
"Jazz, please", Prowl finally whispered. "I am aware we did not bond, but I still feel like my spark has been ripped out. This is not living, this is agony. Please stop it, don't leave me alone again!"
"Prowler", the saboteur murmured, shock and deep emotion at the same time swinging within his voice. "Ah'm really not sure if it's th' right thing t' simply leave them behind. Ya know? Yer friends. They'd miss ya, don't ya realise?"
"But they will cope", Prowl answered, voice and demeanour suddenly calm, collected. "Bluestreak has the twins, as much as I still loathe to admit that I am happy about this. The war is over, we have peace. The Autobots are starting to be in higher spirits again and everyone can do whatever they always wanted to do. I am no longer needed, not my skills at least. It's the only thing that kept me going, the knowledge that they needed my tactical advice, that it was an important factor for winning the war. But no more, Jazz, no more. I have done everything that has been expected of me and more. Things are all right now for the others. But they will not be all right for me, never for me. I need you, Jazz. So please, don't leave me behind now!"
Jazz was silent for a long time. During his wait for an answer, Prowl's grip tightened, going as far as pressing into the sides of the saboteur's body in fear that any moment his lover might vanish in front of his optics. He was so very much afraid to let go. The deceased head of special ops however did not vanish. Instead a sigh-like noise escaped him and the silver head came to rest right against the place where Prowl's spark was hidden.
"Ah can see what ya mean", Jazz admitted sadly. "But Ah don't like it. All Ah've ever cared for was for ya t' live. Preferably t' live for both o' us. Ah'm sorry that Ah left ya, Prowler. It wasn't honestly mah idea of action but ya of all bots understand th' meaning of sacrifices, don't ya? Still, it's obvious t' meh now that mah wish simply isn't working. Or maybe, Ah'm more selfish than Ah'm ever comfortable t' admit. No matter th' reason, Ah always had a hard time t' deny ya anythin' anyway, beloved. Therefore, Ah guess we'll stay t'gether for longer. Ya'll stay wit' meh. But ya're aware that it means leaving yer friends behind, aren't ya?"
Prowl nodded his head, body held straight and face serious looking as always.
"As I said, Jazz, they will cope, they don't need me. They might miss me, but they are not dependant on me as I am on you, Jazz."
Jazz mouthplates formed into a smile, one quite beautiful even if a bit sad on the edges because they both knew about the consequences of their actions and decisions.
"Dance wit' meh some more?" Jazz asked and Prowl nodded, a smile of his own forming on his face. The saboteur started a new set of music and the two bots swung around again, bodies locked onto each other, their posture content and happy. The rising sun slowly began to illuminate their plating. Dawn was chasing away the fog, which started to slowly dissipate. And just like the mist in the air, the forms of the two contently dancing bots seemed to disintegrate with the fog until all that was left was the dying sound of the music till even that was gone.
And when the sun had risen higher, it shone down onto a clear and beautiful field of green grass, free of any fog or ghostly figures. The only thing of the night left behind was the lone body of a Cybertronian mech leaning against an old tree, form motionless and grey.
It was Sunstreaker who found Prowl joors later. After the tactician had been gone for most of the night and day, not answering his comm and his spark signature unable to be registered by any of the Autobots, they had gotten worried and organised search parties to find their missing comrade and friend.
It was the golden twin, a mech who had been closer to the Autobot tactician than the rest of the bots, who spotted the unmoving, grey form of his friend.
Ratchet was never able to resolve what happened to Prowl. All he could tell the others was that his spark seemed to have simply extinguished. And another thing turned out to be strange. Those who had first arrived on Earth all those stellar-cycles ago knew very well the place Prowl's body had been found. It was the place Jazz had been put to rest, after his death. The grave that was not marked in fear of Decepticons raiding it for spare parts. The place that Prowl had not been told about because he had never asked. How he ended up dead there of all places remained a mystery for all of the Autobots.
The same went for the smile that could be seen on the grey form's faceplates. Prowl had died with a smile upon his face. He must have felt happy, something especially Bluestreak and the twins took care to remember for comfort. Prowl might be gone, but he did not leave unhappily or in pain, that much seemed obvious.
The Autobots never found out anything about the deepest secret of their late head of ops and head tactician. Only one bot could sometimes be found looking into the direction he knew Jazz's and now Prowl's body rested at. He out of all mecha remembered the little details, the small gestures everyone else had overlooked while he could not help to notice after all that time working closely together with his second and third in command.
And sometimes, when Optimus Prime stood outside of their base, watching the stars, he thought he could hear quiet music and see the shadowed forms of his two friends dancing through the sky, while watching down on them with smiles on their faceplates.
And Optimus thought, that it was good just as it was. They would have time to catch up someday and be told the truth. One day, when all became one.
The End