Deadly secrets
My first ever challenge fic, Toshi posted the start of a fic on FF.net and I had to finish it. Originally posted on prowlxjazz the change over point is marked in the text.
Title: Windows on the soul
Setting: G1 / maybe slightly AU
Rating: K+
Characters: Jazz/Prowl, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Twins
Warning: um your author being a dark, twisted, sick, sadistic, wicked, very, very evil little spark and taking many liberties with Jazz's history?
Summary: If the eyes are the windows on the soul why does Jazz keep the blinds drawn?
Not mine folks, I might wish it were so but it's not.
There was a secret Ratchet kept. Only three other beings alive knew about it. It was a secret he knew would end his life, quickly and painfully should he ever reveal it, but the threat of such a death wasn't what kept him silent. That’s why his spark turned to ice at the encrypted transmission he had just been sent.
“Ratchet, I need you now. Bumblebee and the twins jumped me. ”
“Please tell me you didn't kill them...”
“No. Just get here. I'm in the lower cell block S.”
Ratchet did as he was told.
Bumblebee was in pain. Shuddering, he fought to break free of the haze that muddled his processor. With a moan, his optics flickered back on. The scene before him sent shivers up his struts. There on the floor was Sunstreaker, his helmet gone. Tinkering with his processor was a decepticon. A terrifyingly familiar decepticon. The decepticon looked up at him, blood red optics narrowed and horror gripped Bumblee's spark as he realized who it was.
“Make a move and I'll offline you Bee. I swear to Primus.”
“Come now... Is that really necessary?”
Bee's optic's widened as his attention was drawn to the other side of the room, where Sideswipe lay. To his horror, Ratchet was crouched there, carefully mimicking the actions of the decepticon as he looked up briefly. Ratchet's blue optics were kind, but held a silent warning that reminded Bee of the danger they were in.
“How could you...Your my best friend... You can't be...” The hurt and betrayal in the little scout's voice was obvious.
“I'll explain in a minute Bee... Right now, I need you to trust me...” The decepticon said softly, turning his blood red optics back to the task at hand.
“Trust you?” Bee was angry now. Furious. “I DID TRUST YOU! I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY SPARK AND NOW YOU TURN OUT TO BE A SLAGGING DECEPTICON?”
“BEE! SHUSH.” Ratchet's voice was cold and it cut Bee deeper then any laser scalpel could.
He felt as if his world was crashing down around him. How could they do this to him? How could they do this to Prime! It just couldn't be real.
Sighing heavily the decepticon got to his feet. “I'm done removing the memories from Sunny Ratchet, check his vitals.
Ratchet nodded, returning to his work as the decepticon approached the wall where Bumblebee was bound, his dark red optics surprisingly gentle.
“Bee, it's not what it looks like. Will you let me explain?”
“I'M NOT STUPID! YOU’RE A DECEPTI...”
The decepticon's hand shot out, clamping over Bee's mouth like a vice.
“Unless you want your memories tampered with like the twins, I recommend you listen to me. I won't repeat this. Ok?”
Streaks of blue energon trickled down Bee's cheeks as he nodded.
“I'm not a Decepticon. I swear to Primus that much is true, but if you repeat to anyone, Prime included, what you've seen here, I will remove your spark with my bare hands and I really don't want to have to do that Bee.”
Bumblebee hung his head. The hand was removed and he looked up into the face of his best friend. His voice soft as he whispered “But... Why?”
Pain gripping his spark, Jazz put back the visor that had been ripped free by the twins’ careless ignorance, masking his blood red optics behind it. “Because you can't change your past Bee, no matter how much it haunts you."
---- Change in author ----
“Their both going to be fine,” Ratchet said as he sat back on his heels and looked at Jazz “I’m going to have to call Prowl.”
Jazz’s shoulders slumped and an air of resignation clung to his frame, Bee looked at him puzzled, before realising that Prowl was going to take a very dim view of Jazz having offlined the three of them.
“Um does Prowl know?” Bee asked hesitantly.
Jazz gave a short bark of laughter “Oh yeah, Prowl knows alright.” He looked at Ratchet “Ya’d better do it, sooner started the sooner done.”
Ratchet gave Jazz an encouraging smile before silently calling Prowl. Jazz reached out a hand and unbound Bee, neatly coiling the rope before storing it in a sub-space pocket.
“Sorry fer tying ya’ up like that Bee,” Jazz apologised, helping the minibot to his feet “couldn’t run ta’ risk of ya’ running off or trying ta kill me ‘fore we’d had a chance to talk.”
“No lasting harm done.” Bee replied, wobbling slightly as his gyros reset.
A dual groan from the twins told that they were back in the world of the online, as they slowly began to drag themselves into a sitting position.
“Take it easy,” Ratchet snapped at them “I’ve only just got you back online I don’t need you knocking yourselves back offline.”
//The four of you my office now.// Prowl’s unmistakable ‘you’re for the jump now’ voice came over their internal radios.
---- Prowl’s office fifty minutes later ----
“Do you have anything to say in your defence?” Prowl demanded on the four very thoroughly lectured mechs lined up in front of him.
He stopped pacing along the line and stared down at Bee “Well?” he asked.
Bee found he couldn’t look Prowl in the optics and opted to stare at his feet as he mumbled “No sir.”
Prowl walked on, stopping in front of the twins, Bee could feel the heat in the glare he gave them.
“It was only a joke.” Sideswipe offered
“A joke.” Prowl repeated, his tone flat.
Sideswipe protested “We weren’t going to harm him!”
“Yeah” Sunstreaker chipped in “we just wanted to see if we could get the drop on him!”
Prowl raised an optic ridge and asked “Had you considered that attacking the head of covert ops without warning, en mass, in a secluded and badly lit location might result in his razor sharp survival instincts kicking in and you ending up dead or in critical condition in the repair bay?”
Put like that, Sideswipe thought, this may not have been our brightest idea. After a breem of the twins silently avoiding his and each others optics Prowl sighed heavily and shook his head.
“Very well, Sunstreaker you’re spending the next two shifts helping Trailbreaker and Hound with their geological survey, Sideswipe I’m leaving you to Ratchet’s tender mercy for the same period.” Prowl said briskly, obviously wanting to finish this and get back to other work.
He glared at twins as they began to protest, under the weight of that gaze they both subsided and accepted their fate with ill grace, Prowl fixed Bee with his optics.
“You will spend the next two shift helping Grapple and Hoist conduct a structural analysis of the Arks exposed outer hull.” Prowl declared, “Jazz”
Prowl suddenly stopped mid pronouncement, and looked down at the floor reluctance and regret visible in his face.
“I know what ya’ gonna say,” Jazz spoke quietly “the rules are crystal ‘bout this kinda thing, an’ I’m not ‘bout ta argue. But ya gotta make it official.”
Prowl visible gathered himself and looked directly into Jazz’s visor “Major-general Jazz you are here by sentenced to three shifts of solitary confinement in the brig, for attacking and causing actual harm to three fellow Autobots.”
Bee felt his mouth dropped open at the harshness of the sentence and the twins made vehement sounds of protest which Prowl overrode by barking out “You three are dismissed to you punishments, Major-general Jazz you will accompany me to the brig.”
Jazz snapped to attention, did an abrupt about face and marched out of the office ahead of Prowl.
“That’s so not fair” Sideswipe complained as the door closed behind Prowl’s door wings “we’re to blame for the whole thing and Jazz pays the highest price for it.”
Sunstreaker and Bee wordlessly agreed and they silently left the office to endure their own sentences.
----
The stars burned brightly in the crisp, cold night sky above Bee as he lay on the Ark’s hull in between the curve of a weapons pod and the side of Mt St Helens, his gears, pistons and cables ached. He’d thrown himself into the hard physical labour of clambering over the hull, setting sensors and noting readings as a means of working out his anger, confusion and guilt, it hadn’t worked, at the end of his double shift he’d felt no better about things than he had when he came on line in the cell block. He’d ghosted into the Ark’s rec room without being seen grabbed an energon cube and retreated back outside; company wasn’t going to help him resolve this.
The sound of a mech climbing over the hull had him huddling under the torn gun mount hoping that whoever they were they’d just pass by, the footsteps drifted of to his right and he uncurled slightly.
“Here he is Prowl.” Jazz called out as he suddenly appeared over the curve of the hull.
Bee recoiled as Jazz slid over the top of the pod and down on to the hull beside him, the memory of those burning red optics looming over him as he lay bound and helpless crashing into his CPU.
“Calm down Bee,” Jazz said in a compassionate voice “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”
“S,sorry,” Bee stuttered “I, I, we didn’t know, Prowl would be so harsh.”
“He didn’t get much choice Bee” Jazz replied “and I needed some time to myself, to recover and get enough of a grip on my emotions that I could tell ya the whole story.”
Bee gapped at Jazz “You’re not mad at me?”
“Nope, ma past ‘isn’t your fault.” Jazz shrugged “I scared the transistors out o’ ya, I figured I owe ya the truth.”
“We, owe you the truth” Prowl corrected as he rounded the far end of the pod “after all it is as much my past as yours.”
Jazz ducked his head in acknowledgement of the correction and rolled to his feet to help Prowl with the equipment he was carrying. Very soon the pair had a lightweight sensor blocking tarp stretched across the gap between hull and volcano blocking out the wind and a small fire was blazing merrily on top of some discarded ceramic bricks making a warm and sheltered spot which would be difficult for anyone else to find.
Bee stared as Prowl settled against the mountain folding his legs into a diamond shape in front of him, Jazz sat down in that gap, draped his knees over Prowl’s feet and leant back against him wrapping his arms backwards around Prowl’s waist, Prowl brought his arms over the top of Jazz’s clasping them loosely over his grill.
“I’d better introduce myself” Jazz began “Swiftwing of the house Yaethn, know to ma friends as Jazz. A decepticon by creation, a neutral by house policy and an Autobot by choice.”
Bee racked his memory for anything he might have heard about that house and came up blank.
“You’ve never heard of us,” Prowl guessed seeing Bee’s blank look “not surprising really, after all a Decepticon house that chose to remain neutral isn’t going to draw to much attention to itself.”
“Us?” Bee echoed “But you’re not a decepticon, are you?”
“No” Prowl smiled “but I am,” a flash of pain passed over both black and white faces “I was, bonded to one.”
“I still can’t believe ya were so nervous about meeting the old tyrant.” Jazz grinned widely.
“Easy for you to be so blasé,” Prowl countered “You were the youngest mech in the house, the darling of the aerials and you had the old tank twisted round your air vents. I was a houseless, credit less, socially inept Autobot, and even before the war how many Decepticon heads of house would have raised no more than an optic ridge if their darling youngest seeker announced he was brining home a ground bound Autobot?”
Jazz sniggered “Didn’t take you long to feel right at home did it?”
“I did not start that fight” Prowl insisted.
“Technically true,” Jazz said “ya did throw the second punch, however it was the first connecting punch.”
“May I remind you who it was who practically peeled that insufferable scout off me and dropped him from into the fountains from a great height?” Prowl said pointedly.
“He insulted and assaulted my intended bond mate.” Jazz replied stiffly “What did you expect me to do?”
Bee was sure his audios were malfunctioning “SEEKER?” He all but shrieked “No way! Not any how are you a seeker.”
“Not now,” Jazz said sadly “But back then I was the youngest, the most manoeuvrable jet in the house. You know those fancy moves that Screamer pulls off, the high speed dives and gyro spinning turns? Those were sparkling play to me; I had the freedom of the skies nothing and no one could touch me once I was airborne.”
Prowl had rested his head on Jazz’s shoulder, a feeling of sorrow and guilt emanating from him.
“I’m sorry.” Prowl whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Jazz turned his face to look at Prowl a soft smile “You were saving ma life love, I don’t blame you. I never have.”
“What happened?” Bee asked cautiously.
Jazz sighed and took of his visor, rubbing his optics wearily he said “Our house didn’t believe in Megatron’s view point that the Decepticons were destined to rule and his belief that only through conquest could we fulfil our true potential. On the other hand we knew we wouldn’t exactly be welcomed into the ranks of the Autobots so the elders chose ta stay neutral.”
Prowl raised his head and continued “We spread the word, anyone who didn’t want to fight should make their way to our towers, and they came. They came by the thousands, Autobots and Decepticons alike, desperately looking for safety in a world gone mad.”
“Not every member of our house agreed with the elders’ decision, most o’ em left and hired themselves out as mercenaries.” Jazz’s voice was bitter with the pain of ancient betrayals “My wing mate, the brother closest to me in age, was the most vocal in his support of Megatron but he stayed with the house, outa’ loyalty ta the elders, we thought.”
Prowl hugged Jazz tighter, offering him wordless comfort.
“We” Jazz wiggled his head from side to side indicating himself and Prowl “were out on a scouting mission with him, looking for supplies, for safe places to hide some of the refuges who were packing out every room we had and for those sparks who had lost their way trying to find us. We’d been gone about four orns and when we got back”
Jazz voice failed and Bee saw tears falling from his optics, which had gone a dull muddy colour. He spun round and huddled into Prowl, quiet sobbing sounds coming from his vocaliser, Prowl pulled Jazz into a comforting embrace.
“When we got back,” Prowl said his voice heavy with grief “we found the citadel had been reduced to ashes, not a block left standing on another, and every living spark extinguished.”
Bee blew air through his vents and leaned back against the hull staring up at the stars, imaging the devastation that must have confronted the trio as they returned.
“He blamed the Autobots for the attack and we blamed the Decepticons.” Prowl carried on his voice flat “We fought; in the ruins of our house we tore each other apart. It wasn’t a simple physical fight either, he had considerable mental abilities, not on the level of Soundwave but strong enough to do us substantial damage.”
“But you won.” Bee half asked half said.
“We lost,” Prowl corrected him “he tore Swiftwing apart physically, fractured my battle computer and logic centres almost critically and shattered our spark bond. I came back on line an orn later to find that he was gone and Swiftwing was in stasis lock. I couldn’t loose him, our bond might be irreparable but I wasn’t about to physically loose him.”
“What did you do?” Bee queried in a small voice.
“I patched up enough of his wingless torso to keep spark and CPU together and walked out of the ruins headed for Iacon. We ran into an Autobot patrol and they took us the rest of the way, Swiftwing’s body was beyond fixing.” Prowl gazed into the flames, “They had to build him a new one, they didn’t know we came from a Decepticon house and all the flying Autobots were too well known for another one to just miraculously turn up.”
Jazz turned his head to look at Bee “I ended up being grounded permanently, sure as a car I’m fast and manoeuvrable but it’s nothing to what I had.” A melancholic sounding gust of air issued from he vents “We had nothing left of our former lives, the Decepticons and he had taken it all, so Prowl came up with the visor to hide ma tell tale optics I adopted ma nickname as ma primary name and we joined the Autobot ranks.” A grim smile crossed his face “Safest place to hide after all is in plain sight, and you don’t get much more visible than us.”
“Prime has no idea he has two Decepticons in his ranks,” Prowl confessed “and we’d like it to stay that way. I may not be the warrior Swift is but I’m more than capable of taking out any mech who comes after us.”
“Some mechs wouldn’t be to understanding about the situation, and they might do something, unfortunate.” Jazz voice was dangerous.
“I won’t tell a spark.” Bee swore “But what happened to, him? You said he survived.”
Prowl’s face was grim in the flickering of the fire and his voice sounded as hollow as a tomb “He’s become a high ranking member of Megatron’s command staff, we damaged him badly, he’s a shadows of his former self these days and he’s also had himself rebuilt but he still lives.”
“For now.” Jazz’s said, tone dark with the threat of spilt energon “some day one or both of us will find a way to terminate him, and we won’t hesitate to do it.”
“Um just so I don’t accidentally get in the way,” Bee’s voice quavered with fear “who is he?”
Jazz’s blood red optics blazed and hatred dripped from every syllable “Shockwave.”
Title: Windows on the soul
Setting: G1 / maybe slightly AU
Rating: K+
Characters: Jazz/Prowl, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Twins
Warning: um your author being a dark, twisted, sick, sadistic, wicked, very, very evil little spark and taking many liberties with Jazz's history?
Summary: If the eyes are the windows on the soul why does Jazz keep the blinds drawn?
Not mine folks, I might wish it were so but it's not.
There was a secret Ratchet kept. Only three other beings alive knew about it. It was a secret he knew would end his life, quickly and painfully should he ever reveal it, but the threat of such a death wasn't what kept him silent. That’s why his spark turned to ice at the encrypted transmission he had just been sent.
“Ratchet, I need you now. Bumblebee and the twins jumped me. ”
“Please tell me you didn't kill them...”
“No. Just get here. I'm in the lower cell block S.”
Ratchet did as he was told.
Bumblebee was in pain. Shuddering, he fought to break free of the haze that muddled his processor. With a moan, his optics flickered back on. The scene before him sent shivers up his struts. There on the floor was Sunstreaker, his helmet gone. Tinkering with his processor was a decepticon. A terrifyingly familiar decepticon. The decepticon looked up at him, blood red optics narrowed and horror gripped Bumblee's spark as he realized who it was.
“Make a move and I'll offline you Bee. I swear to Primus.”
“Come now... Is that really necessary?”
Bee's optic's widened as his attention was drawn to the other side of the room, where Sideswipe lay. To his horror, Ratchet was crouched there, carefully mimicking the actions of the decepticon as he looked up briefly. Ratchet's blue optics were kind, but held a silent warning that reminded Bee of the danger they were in.
“How could you...Your my best friend... You can't be...” The hurt and betrayal in the little scout's voice was obvious.
“I'll explain in a minute Bee... Right now, I need you to trust me...” The decepticon said softly, turning his blood red optics back to the task at hand.
“Trust you?” Bee was angry now. Furious. “I DID TRUST YOU! I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY SPARK AND NOW YOU TURN OUT TO BE A SLAGGING DECEPTICON?”
“BEE! SHUSH.” Ratchet's voice was cold and it cut Bee deeper then any laser scalpel could.
He felt as if his world was crashing down around him. How could they do this to him? How could they do this to Prime! It just couldn't be real.
Sighing heavily the decepticon got to his feet. “I'm done removing the memories from Sunny Ratchet, check his vitals.
Ratchet nodded, returning to his work as the decepticon approached the wall where Bumblebee was bound, his dark red optics surprisingly gentle.
“Bee, it's not what it looks like. Will you let me explain?”
“I'M NOT STUPID! YOU’RE A DECEPTI...”
The decepticon's hand shot out, clamping over Bee's mouth like a vice.
“Unless you want your memories tampered with like the twins, I recommend you listen to me. I won't repeat this. Ok?”
Streaks of blue energon trickled down Bee's cheeks as he nodded.
“I'm not a Decepticon. I swear to Primus that much is true, but if you repeat to anyone, Prime included, what you've seen here, I will remove your spark with my bare hands and I really don't want to have to do that Bee.”
Bumblebee hung his head. The hand was removed and he looked up into the face of his best friend. His voice soft as he whispered “But... Why?”
Pain gripping his spark, Jazz put back the visor that had been ripped free by the twins’ careless ignorance, masking his blood red optics behind it. “Because you can't change your past Bee, no matter how much it haunts you."
---- Change in author ----
“Their both going to be fine,” Ratchet said as he sat back on his heels and looked at Jazz “I’m going to have to call Prowl.”
Jazz’s shoulders slumped and an air of resignation clung to his frame, Bee looked at him puzzled, before realising that Prowl was going to take a very dim view of Jazz having offlined the three of them.
“Um does Prowl know?” Bee asked hesitantly.
Jazz gave a short bark of laughter “Oh yeah, Prowl knows alright.” He looked at Ratchet “Ya’d better do it, sooner started the sooner done.”
Ratchet gave Jazz an encouraging smile before silently calling Prowl. Jazz reached out a hand and unbound Bee, neatly coiling the rope before storing it in a sub-space pocket.
“Sorry fer tying ya’ up like that Bee,” Jazz apologised, helping the minibot to his feet “couldn’t run ta’ risk of ya’ running off or trying ta kill me ‘fore we’d had a chance to talk.”
“No lasting harm done.” Bee replied, wobbling slightly as his gyros reset.
A dual groan from the twins told that they were back in the world of the online, as they slowly began to drag themselves into a sitting position.
“Take it easy,” Ratchet snapped at them “I’ve only just got you back online I don’t need you knocking yourselves back offline.”
//The four of you my office now.// Prowl’s unmistakable ‘you’re for the jump now’ voice came over their internal radios.
---- Prowl’s office fifty minutes later ----
“Do you have anything to say in your defence?” Prowl demanded on the four very thoroughly lectured mechs lined up in front of him.
He stopped pacing along the line and stared down at Bee “Well?” he asked.
Bee found he couldn’t look Prowl in the optics and opted to stare at his feet as he mumbled “No sir.”
Prowl walked on, stopping in front of the twins, Bee could feel the heat in the glare he gave them.
“It was only a joke.” Sideswipe offered
“A joke.” Prowl repeated, his tone flat.
Sideswipe protested “We weren’t going to harm him!”
“Yeah” Sunstreaker chipped in “we just wanted to see if we could get the drop on him!”
Prowl raised an optic ridge and asked “Had you considered that attacking the head of covert ops without warning, en mass, in a secluded and badly lit location might result in his razor sharp survival instincts kicking in and you ending up dead or in critical condition in the repair bay?”
Put like that, Sideswipe thought, this may not have been our brightest idea. After a breem of the twins silently avoiding his and each others optics Prowl sighed heavily and shook his head.
“Very well, Sunstreaker you’re spending the next two shifts helping Trailbreaker and Hound with their geological survey, Sideswipe I’m leaving you to Ratchet’s tender mercy for the same period.” Prowl said briskly, obviously wanting to finish this and get back to other work.
He glared at twins as they began to protest, under the weight of that gaze they both subsided and accepted their fate with ill grace, Prowl fixed Bee with his optics.
“You will spend the next two shift helping Grapple and Hoist conduct a structural analysis of the Arks exposed outer hull.” Prowl declared, “Jazz”
Prowl suddenly stopped mid pronouncement, and looked down at the floor reluctance and regret visible in his face.
“I know what ya’ gonna say,” Jazz spoke quietly “the rules are crystal ‘bout this kinda thing, an’ I’m not ‘bout ta argue. But ya gotta make it official.”
Prowl visible gathered himself and looked directly into Jazz’s visor “Major-general Jazz you are here by sentenced to three shifts of solitary confinement in the brig, for attacking and causing actual harm to three fellow Autobots.”
Bee felt his mouth dropped open at the harshness of the sentence and the twins made vehement sounds of protest which Prowl overrode by barking out “You three are dismissed to you punishments, Major-general Jazz you will accompany me to the brig.”
Jazz snapped to attention, did an abrupt about face and marched out of the office ahead of Prowl.
“That’s so not fair” Sideswipe complained as the door closed behind Prowl’s door wings “we’re to blame for the whole thing and Jazz pays the highest price for it.”
Sunstreaker and Bee wordlessly agreed and they silently left the office to endure their own sentences.
----
The stars burned brightly in the crisp, cold night sky above Bee as he lay on the Ark’s hull in between the curve of a weapons pod and the side of Mt St Helens, his gears, pistons and cables ached. He’d thrown himself into the hard physical labour of clambering over the hull, setting sensors and noting readings as a means of working out his anger, confusion and guilt, it hadn’t worked, at the end of his double shift he’d felt no better about things than he had when he came on line in the cell block. He’d ghosted into the Ark’s rec room without being seen grabbed an energon cube and retreated back outside; company wasn’t going to help him resolve this.
The sound of a mech climbing over the hull had him huddling under the torn gun mount hoping that whoever they were they’d just pass by, the footsteps drifted of to his right and he uncurled slightly.
“Here he is Prowl.” Jazz called out as he suddenly appeared over the curve of the hull.
Bee recoiled as Jazz slid over the top of the pod and down on to the hull beside him, the memory of those burning red optics looming over him as he lay bound and helpless crashing into his CPU.
“Calm down Bee,” Jazz said in a compassionate voice “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”
“S,sorry,” Bee stuttered “I, I, we didn’t know, Prowl would be so harsh.”
“He didn’t get much choice Bee” Jazz replied “and I needed some time to myself, to recover and get enough of a grip on my emotions that I could tell ya the whole story.”
Bee gapped at Jazz “You’re not mad at me?”
“Nope, ma past ‘isn’t your fault.” Jazz shrugged “I scared the transistors out o’ ya, I figured I owe ya the truth.”
“We, owe you the truth” Prowl corrected as he rounded the far end of the pod “after all it is as much my past as yours.”
Jazz ducked his head in acknowledgement of the correction and rolled to his feet to help Prowl with the equipment he was carrying. Very soon the pair had a lightweight sensor blocking tarp stretched across the gap between hull and volcano blocking out the wind and a small fire was blazing merrily on top of some discarded ceramic bricks making a warm and sheltered spot which would be difficult for anyone else to find.
Bee stared as Prowl settled against the mountain folding his legs into a diamond shape in front of him, Jazz sat down in that gap, draped his knees over Prowl’s feet and leant back against him wrapping his arms backwards around Prowl’s waist, Prowl brought his arms over the top of Jazz’s clasping them loosely over his grill.
“I’d better introduce myself” Jazz began “Swiftwing of the house Yaethn, know to ma friends as Jazz. A decepticon by creation, a neutral by house policy and an Autobot by choice.”
Bee racked his memory for anything he might have heard about that house and came up blank.
“You’ve never heard of us,” Prowl guessed seeing Bee’s blank look “not surprising really, after all a Decepticon house that chose to remain neutral isn’t going to draw to much attention to itself.”
“Us?” Bee echoed “But you’re not a decepticon, are you?”
“No” Prowl smiled “but I am,” a flash of pain passed over both black and white faces “I was, bonded to one.”
“I still can’t believe ya were so nervous about meeting the old tyrant.” Jazz grinned widely.
“Easy for you to be so blasé,” Prowl countered “You were the youngest mech in the house, the darling of the aerials and you had the old tank twisted round your air vents. I was a houseless, credit less, socially inept Autobot, and even before the war how many Decepticon heads of house would have raised no more than an optic ridge if their darling youngest seeker announced he was brining home a ground bound Autobot?”
Jazz sniggered “Didn’t take you long to feel right at home did it?”
“I did not start that fight” Prowl insisted.
“Technically true,” Jazz said “ya did throw the second punch, however it was the first connecting punch.”
“May I remind you who it was who practically peeled that insufferable scout off me and dropped him from into the fountains from a great height?” Prowl said pointedly.
“He insulted and assaulted my intended bond mate.” Jazz replied stiffly “What did you expect me to do?”
Bee was sure his audios were malfunctioning “SEEKER?” He all but shrieked “No way! Not any how are you a seeker.”
“Not now,” Jazz said sadly “But back then I was the youngest, the most manoeuvrable jet in the house. You know those fancy moves that Screamer pulls off, the high speed dives and gyro spinning turns? Those were sparkling play to me; I had the freedom of the skies nothing and no one could touch me once I was airborne.”
Prowl had rested his head on Jazz’s shoulder, a feeling of sorrow and guilt emanating from him.
“I’m sorry.” Prowl whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Jazz turned his face to look at Prowl a soft smile “You were saving ma life love, I don’t blame you. I never have.”
“What happened?” Bee asked cautiously.
Jazz sighed and took of his visor, rubbing his optics wearily he said “Our house didn’t believe in Megatron’s view point that the Decepticons were destined to rule and his belief that only through conquest could we fulfil our true potential. On the other hand we knew we wouldn’t exactly be welcomed into the ranks of the Autobots so the elders chose ta stay neutral.”
Prowl raised his head and continued “We spread the word, anyone who didn’t want to fight should make their way to our towers, and they came. They came by the thousands, Autobots and Decepticons alike, desperately looking for safety in a world gone mad.”
“Not every member of our house agreed with the elders’ decision, most o’ em left and hired themselves out as mercenaries.” Jazz’s voice was bitter with the pain of ancient betrayals “My wing mate, the brother closest to me in age, was the most vocal in his support of Megatron but he stayed with the house, outa’ loyalty ta the elders, we thought.”
Prowl hugged Jazz tighter, offering him wordless comfort.
“We” Jazz wiggled his head from side to side indicating himself and Prowl “were out on a scouting mission with him, looking for supplies, for safe places to hide some of the refuges who were packing out every room we had and for those sparks who had lost their way trying to find us. We’d been gone about four orns and when we got back”
Jazz voice failed and Bee saw tears falling from his optics, which had gone a dull muddy colour. He spun round and huddled into Prowl, quiet sobbing sounds coming from his vocaliser, Prowl pulled Jazz into a comforting embrace.
“When we got back,” Prowl said his voice heavy with grief “we found the citadel had been reduced to ashes, not a block left standing on another, and every living spark extinguished.”
Bee blew air through his vents and leaned back against the hull staring up at the stars, imaging the devastation that must have confronted the trio as they returned.
“He blamed the Autobots for the attack and we blamed the Decepticons.” Prowl carried on his voice flat “We fought; in the ruins of our house we tore each other apart. It wasn’t a simple physical fight either, he had considerable mental abilities, not on the level of Soundwave but strong enough to do us substantial damage.”
“But you won.” Bee half asked half said.
“We lost,” Prowl corrected him “he tore Swiftwing apart physically, fractured my battle computer and logic centres almost critically and shattered our spark bond. I came back on line an orn later to find that he was gone and Swiftwing was in stasis lock. I couldn’t loose him, our bond might be irreparable but I wasn’t about to physically loose him.”
“What did you do?” Bee queried in a small voice.
“I patched up enough of his wingless torso to keep spark and CPU together and walked out of the ruins headed for Iacon. We ran into an Autobot patrol and they took us the rest of the way, Swiftwing’s body was beyond fixing.” Prowl gazed into the flames, “They had to build him a new one, they didn’t know we came from a Decepticon house and all the flying Autobots were too well known for another one to just miraculously turn up.”
Jazz turned his head to look at Bee “I ended up being grounded permanently, sure as a car I’m fast and manoeuvrable but it’s nothing to what I had.” A melancholic sounding gust of air issued from he vents “We had nothing left of our former lives, the Decepticons and he had taken it all, so Prowl came up with the visor to hide ma tell tale optics I adopted ma nickname as ma primary name and we joined the Autobot ranks.” A grim smile crossed his face “Safest place to hide after all is in plain sight, and you don’t get much more visible than us.”
“Prime has no idea he has two Decepticons in his ranks,” Prowl confessed “and we’d like it to stay that way. I may not be the warrior Swift is but I’m more than capable of taking out any mech who comes after us.”
“Some mechs wouldn’t be to understanding about the situation, and they might do something, unfortunate.” Jazz voice was dangerous.
“I won’t tell a spark.” Bee swore “But what happened to, him? You said he survived.”
Prowl’s face was grim in the flickering of the fire and his voice sounded as hollow as a tomb “He’s become a high ranking member of Megatron’s command staff, we damaged him badly, he’s a shadows of his former self these days and he’s also had himself rebuilt but he still lives.”
“For now.” Jazz’s said, tone dark with the threat of spilt energon “some day one or both of us will find a way to terminate him, and we won’t hesitate to do it.”
“Um just so I don’t accidentally get in the way,” Bee’s voice quavered with fear “who is he?”
Jazz’s blood red optics blazed and hatred dripped from every syllable “Shockwave.”