Prowl and Jazz's Halloween Challenge - complete
I know it's almost a month late. But it's finally done! Sorry but real life does take priorty and writing TF fan fictions is just one of a few hobbies I have. So here it is. All thirteen. I do hope you enjoy them. Number 12 and 13 tie together. Also, not all of them have to do with Halloween. Sorry my muse can be a picky creature when she wants to be.
1. Darkness
Prowl rubbed his neck as he punched in the code to his quarters. It’d been a long day and all he wanted to do was recharge. However, Jazz had other plans, slipping in silently behind his lover and pulling the blind fold over Prowl’s optics.
“Jazz, I can’t see a thing!”
“That’s the idea,” Jazz whispered into Prowl’s audio receptor, while caressing his doorwings.
Prowl stiffened not expecting the sudden intimate contact.
“Shh, relax, babe,” Jazz purred softly, rubbing his cheek against Prowl’s audio receptor. “Allow me to take care of everything. I only ask one thing of you.”
“What’s that?” Prowl asked, his voice quivering slightly as his body was responding to his lover’s continual affections.
“You have to keep the blindfold on,” Jazz answered, tying the blind fold in place as if anticipating his bond mate’s reply.
Prowl slowly nodded and surrendered, allowing his remaining four senses to be bombarded and overwhelmed by Jazz, taking him to a new pleasurable plateau he’d never dreamed about.
2. Black Cat
Hound smiled, cradling the soft, purring critter in the palm of his hand.
“Hound, you know that organic creature can’t stay here,” Prowl firmly stated.
“Oh boy, what’d you find this time Hound?” Jazz smiled, sauntering up, unable to resist not taking a peek.
“Poor little guy got lost is all,” Hound answered, showing Jazz.
“AH!” Jazz screamed and took off running.
Prowl watched with much interest as the saboteur disappeared down the hallway.
“On second thought, Hound, may I borrow the little black cat? I may have finally found away to keep Jazz and the other deviants, aka Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, out of my office so I can get some work done without interruptions or embarrassing pranks.”
“That’s funny. I never knew Jazz to be the superstitious type,” Hound commented, handing the feline creature over to Prowl.
“He’s special ops. They’re all superstitious and paranoid. Jazz is just good at hiding it.”
“And the twins?”
“Sunstreaker is the superstitious one. He won’t risk getting his paint job damaged. And Sideswipe won’t pull a prank without his brother.”
3 Ghost
The sound of sniffling filled the room as the music softly played. Prowl smiled warmly, looking over. Without hesitation, he reached over to rub Jazz’s neck before pulling the mech against his chest.
“You cry every time we watch that movie,” he murmured into the silver mech’s audio receptor.
“I can’t help it,” Jazz sobbed softly, snuggling closer. “I just think of how much I love you when I watch it.”
Prowl kissed the side of Jazz’s helm. “Ditto.”
Added explanation for those who have never seen the movie: omg, I thought every femme has seen this movie! If you have not seen this movie I suggest you do! It's called Ghost with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. Demi's character would say 'I love you' and Patrick's character would always respond with 'Ditto'. Now go watch the movie!!!!!
4. Pumpkins
Prowl looked up from reading a report when he heard the rare cursing and grumbling of his sparkmate. His optics instantly widened upon seeing this yellowish, stringy, substance hanging from various places of Jazz’s form.
“What happened?” Prowl gently questioned, noting the noticeably annoyed look on the mech’s face.
“Got into a scrap with a Decepticon,” Jazz answered, feeling disgustingly sticky. “In the middle of a pumpkin patch. He used them as ammo, the fragger. It’s gonna take me a week to get this slag off!”
“Need help?” Prowl asked with a smirk. Jazz raised an optic ridge. “I can’t have my sparkmate put out a whole week. What if I need an interface or sparkbond to relax from being overworked?”
“That is a very practical way of thinking Prowl,” Jazz devilishly smiled.
5. Costumes
Prowl sat alone as far away from the other younglings as he could get. His small doorwings drooped dejectedly on his back. He was trying not to cry but nothing could stop his tears from falling. So he kept his head bowed down so no one could see his face.
“Ya left yur energon treats behind,” a youngling mech his age said, holding them for Prowl to take.
“I don’t want them,” Prowl sniffled, wiping his nose on his forearm.
“Are ya cryin’?”
“…”
“Are ya hurt? I saw one o’ them bullies grab yur doorwing.”
“I’m fine.”
“Then why are ya cryin’?”
“They were making fun of my costume,” Prowl wept quietly. “My mom helped me with it.”
“Yur supposed to be an Enforcer, right?”
Prowl nodded, “My father was an Enforcer. I want to be one too when I’m mature.”
“Ma father was an Enforcer too. He died a year ago. Mom an’ me just finally moved to Praxus to live with ma grandma. It hurt too much to stay in our old home.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Yeah,” the youngling mech sighed, sitting down next to Prowl.
“I miss mine too.”
“He would ‘a liked yur costume!”
“Really?” Prowl asked, raising his doorwings up.
“Yup.”
“Where’s your costume?”
The mech smiled brightly, showing Prowl a visor. Then he put it on.
“I’m a spy! And this is ma special visor that lets me see in the dark!”
“Want to play a game?” Prowl asked excitedly.
“What kind o’ game?”
“I’m an Enforcer and you’re the spy I have to catch.”
“Ok! What’s yur name? So, I know what to call ya when I escape.”
“Prowl.”
“Cool name. I’m Jazz. Are ya fast, Prowl?”
“The fastest in the class.”
“As fast as me?” Jazz grinned then took off running and laughing.
“I’m going to get you Jazz!” Prowl shouted, racing after his new friend.
6. Crescent Moon
“No! No! Prowl don’t sit there…oh slag!” Jazz grimaced at the annoyed look on his sparkmate’s face.
“What did I just sit on and why is it sticking to my aft?” Prowl asked, rising out of his seat.
Jazz reached around and pulled of crescent moon shaped marshmallow candy off Prowl’s aft. Then he pulled another and another.
“Sorry Prowl," Jazz replied, pulling yet another crescent moon shaped marshmellow candy from Prowl's aft. "I told Spike to not leave the package open and to take them with him when he left for his Halloween party.”
"Make sure you get them all off."
"I'm checking!" Jazz said, leaning around to get a good look at Prowl's aft.
"Hey! You two shouldn't be doing that stuff in public! We have young processors here that might fritz!" Ratchet yelled at Prowl and Jazz.
7. Orange
“Come on babe, online those baby blues for me,” Jazz pleaded worriedly, leaning over his sparkmate.
Prowl groaned, grabbing his forehead.
“I think he’s finally coming around,” Jazz grinned in relief.
“Prowl, can you hear me?” Ratchet asked.
“My aching processor,”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the CMO smiled. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Prowl onlined his optics, taking a moment to recall how he ended up flat on his back in the middle of the road.
“Not sure,” he frowned as Jazz helped him up to his feet. “One moment I was engaged with Thundercracker. Then next moment I was turning and saw only the color orange up really close.”
“Skywarp decided to use the ‘Road Construction Ahead’ signed as a baseball bat and your head as the ball,” Jazz answered. “If it’s any consolation, the sign is in bad shape too.”
Prowl looked down to the orange construction sign broken in two.
"No Jazz. It's no consolation. My processor still hurts," Prowl commented.
8. Trick
Ratchet bitched and grumbled as he carefully removed the cranium plating of Prowl’s head. He was the first mech to admit he couldn’t wait for this Halloween business to be over and done with. The pranks were out of hand! It was almost chaos in the hallways every night!
Every single prank victim ended up in the medical bay keeping Ratchet a very busy mech. Then as soon as he was done with the poor victim he’d seek out the pranksters for punishment. Sunny and Sides had the most dents in their armor from the flying wrenches.
But just about every bot, including Optimus, at least had one dent for pulling a prank. Prime’s however was because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The entire Ark went silent and into hiding when their Prime fell grabbing his crotch plate. Ratchet quickly put First Aid in charge and disappeared for three days.
It wasn’t enough. Optimus still threw his CMO in the brig...literally.
Today’s latest patient was the Autobot’s second in command, Prowl. The poor mech was the victim of a dirty trick by the twins who purposely cajoled the mech into crashing his CPU. It was a common enough occurrence except this time smoke was actually billowing up from the mech’s head. A sure sign that some serious damage might have been caused.
Sunny and Sides loved a good prank and didn’t mind if some physical damage occurred. However, they never wanted the unsuspecting mech to suffer irreparable damage. So the destructive duo hurried their latest victim to the medical bay and explained to Ratchet what’d happened.
“So, how bad is he?” Sideswipe asked.
Ratchet growled at them, making the brothers cringe in their seats. Silence followed. The two brothers prayed adamantly to Primus that the mech was ok and that Ratchet wouldn’t kill them. They both stopped mid prayer when Ratchet smiled.
It wasn’t just a normal smile. It was a happy smile either. It was almost…evil!
“Ah, Ratchet, why are you grinning like a mad scientist?” Sunny asked.
“Retribution,” Ratchet grinned as he continually worked.
“You wouldn’t risk your patient’s well being to take your revenge on us!” Sideswipe pointed out.
“I don’t have to.”
The brother’s looked quizzically at the CMO.
“You have no clue do you?” Ratchet observed.
“Ah…about what?” the brothers asked.
“Prowl…and Jazz…they’re bonded.”
“So,” Sunny scoffed.
“Oh slag!” Sideswipe yelped, trembling.
“WHERE ARE THEY?!” Jazz’s distinctly deep voice boomed from the hallway.
“I’d run if I were you,” Ratchet chuckled. “The pair is fiercely protective of each other. As brothers I’m sure you understand the closeness that comes with being bonded.”
“THERE YOU ARE!”
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe jumped up and turned to see Jazz in the doorway, aiming Optimus Prime’s huge rifle cannon at them.
“RUN SIDES!”
“RIGHT BEHIND YOU BRO!”
“GET BACK HERE YOU FRAGGERS!” Jazz roared giving chase after the brothers.
Ratchet giggled, carefully placing the cranium plating back on Prowl’s head.
“It’s all clear now. They’re gone.”
Prowl onlined his optics and smiled, “Thank you for your assistance Ratchet. With your help and Red Alert recording the entire incident, we should have successfully stopped the pranking for the time being.”
“At this point, I’ll take any reprieve I can get. I’m surprised you came up with the idea.”
“Jazz was too. Although, using Optimus cannon was his idea. I just hope he got Prime’s permission first.”
“JAZZ! GIVE ME MY WEAPON BACK!”
Ratchet and Prowl took off running down the emergency exit of the medical bay. Only one mech on the base was worse than Ratchet on a rampage. One massively, huge, pissed off Optimus Prime.
9. Spider Webs
Prowl crept along silently in the darkness, relying solely on Jazz’s special visor to guide them quickly through the cave. The tactician felt somewhat embarrassed about the situation he’d gotten himself into. For whatever reason, it seemed the Prowl was not immune to the childish dares many of the mechs have spawned during the month of October.
The scarier the dare the better.
It was Bumblebee that dared Prowl to spend one night in the spooky cave. No one else had been able to. Jazz said they were testing Prowl’s mech-hood which of course ruffled his doorwings. He stoically took the challenge and succeeded.
Only problem was when it was time to leave Prowl’s headlights shorted out. Too much moisture in the cave combined with the fact that he was long over due for a maintenance exam that would have prevented such complications from occurring. As a result, Prowl had to call for help to get out of the cave.
“Jazz, are you sure this is the right direction? I don’t recall this many turns.”
“Relax, this is a short cut. There’s an exit about twenty meters from here. Bumblebee’s waiting for us.”
“Are you…”
Suddenly something touched his doorwing, silencing him. Prowl instinctively pulled them in for safety. When he turned around, he couldn’t detect anything.
“Prowl?”
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” he sighed, lifting his doorwings back up, feeling foolish. “I just want to get out of here.”
Jazz chuckled, grabbing his bond mates hand then continued on.
After only a few more steps it happened again. Prowl whirled around at the sensation now thinking that they weren’t alone, that one of the others was trying to play a trick on him.
A low growl sounded from his vocal processer. He was not in the mood for games.
“What is it?” Jazz asked, concerned knowing Prowl doesn’t go on the defense for no particular reason.
“Something touched my doorwings,” he whispered, squinting his optics, glaring into the darkness.
Jazz looked up to inspect the beautiful appendages he loved playing with. He knew how sensitive they were and was always careful when handling them. And he had words with any mechanism that would try to purposely harm them. But what Jazz saw made him literally fall to the ground laughing.
“I fail to see the humor in this, Jazz!”
“I’m sorry,” he laughed, grabbing his sides. “It’s just too funny!”
“What’s too funny?” Prowl growled.
“No one touched your doorwings. The passed through some spider webs!”
Prowl felt the heat rush to his cheeks. This was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. He got all riled up over harmless spider webs.
“Hey you guys ok in there?!” Bumblebee’s voice shouted from the darkness ahead of them.
“Yeah, Prowl just…”
Jazz suddenly found a hand clamped over his mouth.
“You utter one word of this and I promise you no interfacing, teasing, or spark bonding for a month!” Prowl threatened in a low dangerous tone.
Jazz vigorously nodded that he’d behave so Prowl released him.
“There you guys are!” Bumblebee smiled, shining his head lights. “These spider webs are cool, huh?”
“Yeah, they’re cool,” Prowl commented flatly. “Right Jazz?”
“Super cool!” Jazz smiled.
10. Fog
His processor was still whirling in the pleasurable fog that had consumed him. He was reluctant to emerge from it having never experienced such a long night of intensely passionate interfacing. Oh he’d had lots of all nighters with lovers before but nothing this intense, this invigorating, this spark jolting. And all this from the most unlikeliest of mechs on the most unlikeliest of Earth’s holidays.
In hindsight, he supposed that logically it made sense for this to occur on Halloween night. All the other mechs, including their Prime, were celebrating the night’s festivities in the recreation room by consuming large amounts of high grade and eating energon treats laced with one of Wheeljack’s highly intoxicating drinks.
That’s where his evening started off as well. He’d intended to get just as inebriated as his friends only to be surprised when a tender hand reached around, stroking the sensitive plating on his lower back. It was accompanied by that mesmerizing husky voice whispering into his audio receptor, ‘Come with me, please.’
He had no idea that by complying to those four little words that he’d end up like this with the mech he’d secretly been in love with for so many countless vorns dating back all the way to Cybertron and Iacon where they first met. He snuggled closer to the mech and let a giddy giggle sound from his vocal processor as he felt like the luckiest mech in the galaxy at the moment.
“What’s so funny?” that husky voice asked, nuzzling his helm, kissing his audio receptor.
“I just can’t believe I’m here with you right now. Exactly where I’ve wanted to be for so long.”
“Hmm, it gives me satisfaction to know you’re happy,” the mech sighed contently.
“You do know I’m never letting you go. Not after having the best night of overloads in my entire life!”
The other mech chuckled, “I was only happy to oblige.”
“And then some. I was pleasantly surprised. Yet some how I always knew that beneath that tight aft, stoically handsome face of yours was a deeply passionate mech dying to come out.”
“Only for you Jazz,” Prowl murmured. “Only for you.”
11. Treat
Jazz sauntered up to where his lover was sitting, one hand hiding behind his back, “Trick or Treat, Prowl?”
“Why do people bother asking the question when logically they will chose treat 99.99 percent of the time?” Prowl countered, sounding more annoyed than usual.
“Are you going to answer the question or not?”
“Do I really have to when I’ve already explained the logical choice?”
“Fine,” Jazz huffed and then popped the treat in his mouth. The same treat he had every intention of giving Prowl.
Prowl gave Jazz a look of complete surprise which only made the saboteur grin even wider. Then a hurt expression flashed briefly across the tactician’s faceplates before he abruptly stood up and left.
“Prowl, where are ya going?” Jazz laughed, shaking his head.
“Uh ho! I know some mech who’s not getting his treat tonight in the berth!” Bluestreak snickered.
“It’s alright,” Jazz smirked. “I’ll still get mine.”
“I don’t know Jazz,” Bumblebee frowned. “If you’d been bonded to Prowl you would have known he was already upset.”
Now Jazz was surprised.
“The twins asked Prowl that same question earlier,” Bumblebee explained. “When Prowl answered Treat, they tricked him with a drugged treat. Knocked him out for a few minutes but it was all they needed.”
“Poor Prowl got strung up from his doorwings and gagged him so he couldn’t shout for help. Even shorted his communicator so he couldn’t use that either,” Bluestreak continued. “And was like that for several hours because they did it to him in his office.”
“He’d still be in there if Optimus hadn’t gone looking for a report the Prowl was supposed to turn in,” Bumblebee finished.
“Oh man, now I feel terrible,” Jazz frowned, looking in the direction Prowl disappeared. He was indeed feeling very guilty. “I presume Optimus punished the twins.”
“Oh yeah, Ratchet had to pound out a few dents then Ironhide took them on a mission with him,” Bumblebee smiled.
“That doesn’t sound like much punishment,” Jazz commented.
“It’s punishment…its raining and there’s lots of mud,” Bluestreak said.
“Then when they get back they get to spend a week in the brig…no bath or shower,” Bumblebee giggled.
“I take it back, that’s torture!” Jazz laughed. “Well, I’d better go apologize. Later guys.”
Two minutes later Jazz was at Prowl’s door, hacking the door lock. Prowl keeps changing the code making it more of a challenge for Jazz each time. Normally, Jazz wouldn’t mind but all he wanted to do was apologize to his love as quickly as possible.
“Finally!” Jazz exhaled when the door hissed open.
There was Prowl lying on his side doorwings moving in jerky movement and not their usually fluidity. Bonded or not, Jazz should have noticed Prowl’s emotional state just by how his doorwings rested. Only he didn’t paying attention earlier.
No more.
“Prowl.”
“Please, go Jazz. I’m not in the mood today. Ratchet ordered me to rest so that’s what I’m going to do. See you tomorrow.”
“Ok, I’ll go. After I apologize for being a jerk. Bumblebee and Bluestreak told me what happened,” Jazz spoke softly, sitting on the edge of the berth.
“I was going to tell you but…”
“I know, I was acting childish. I’m sorry. I have another energon treat if you want it.”
“I’m not hungry,” Prowl sighed.
“Then let me give you another treat, one I know that would make you feel better.”
Before Prowl could protest, Jazz sent gently bathed the wing joints with mag pulses from his hands. The doorwings noticeably relaxed.
“Now that is a treat I do enjoy,” Prowl smiled, shuttering his optic covers.
12. Graveyard
Prowl ran as fast as he could. He didn’t care which direction. He didn’t even care where he ended up. He just ran, legs pumping, arms swinging, vents wheezing from overexertion. In truth, he was too terrified to stop. He certainly didn’t dare look back over his shoulder. Besides, he didn’t have to. He could still hear their cackling as they gave chase.
His doorwings hurt badly from the cruel mistreatment they’d endured from the older youngling mechs. Energon trickled down his face from where they’d tried to pull his chevron off. He was no match for them as they were twice his age and height. All Prowl could do was take the punishment and wait for the opportunity to escape.
And when he saw an opening he took it without hesitation.
The leader of the small group had exposed himself to lubricate on Prowl to further the humiliation. Prowl had stuck with quick precision. At the time, he didn’t care if it was a dirty move or not by punching the mech’s interface rod. It certainly wasn’t the smartest thing to do as it only enraged them. Once their leader was back on his feet they raced after Prowl.
Prowl cried out in surprise when his foot suddenly clipped the ground. He was sent skidding hard across the ground. Every circuit in his body was on fire with pain. While struggling to get up, it was then that he noticed he’d escaped into a graveyard. He remembered the youth center’s Director mentioning that it was off limits to younglings when Prowl was first delivered there a deca-cycle ago.
The femme seemed to think the Prowl was some sort of hoodlum the moment she laid optics on him and thought he’d vandalize the place just like the others have done. He was nothing of the sorts. He always did what he was told. He was respectful and courteous of others. Knew the rules and obeyed them. He even told the Director when other youngling mechs were breaking the rules.
Now he regretted it for that was what brought their wrath down on him. It was all for nothing too as the Director thought he was lying and punished him by denying him his energon ration for the day.
And now he was here in a graveyard.
“A fitting end, I’d say.”
Prowl whirled around at the sound of that tormenting voice. His spark raced in panic as they surrounded him.
“Yeah. At least we don’t have to drag his body far to the grave.”
Tears filled Prowl’s optics. He couldn’t even call for help. And there was no way to escape this time. He tried to run anyway.
The first punch stopped him, knocking him to the ground. He screamed when they smashed his doorwings with their feet. All he could do was curled up as best as he could and await death.
It seemed to be taking forever to take him. Until finally he was numb all over and the darkness started closing in. Prowl welcomed it readily because then he would get to be with his creators again and he wouldn’t be in pain any longer.
“…you’re safe now,” a voice soothed. “Shh…you’re safe now.”
The voice was almost melodic as it lulled Prowl from the darkness. He opened his optics. Through white haze he saw the face of a stranger.
“Are you an angel sent by Primus?” Prowl asked.
The stranger chuckled, “No, I’m no angel.”
“Are you my guardian in the afterlife?”
“Well that would be kind of hard to do because you’re not dead. Although, I did give you a rather heavy dose to numb the pain. It kind of fogs up the processor too.”
Prowl blinked his optics to clear his vision as best he could. He immediately recognized the city’s skyline. Dread filled him and he started shaking. A wrenched sob sounded from his throated. He didn’t want to go back.
“Oh, hey, it’s ok,” the mech cooed, cradling Prowl close to his chest. “You won’t be going back to the youth center. And those bullies won’t ever harm you again. I promise. The youth center has been closed down. All the younglings have been taken to other youth centers for treatment of abuse. Per Optimus Prime’s orders.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“You did nothing wrong little one,” the mech smiled. “I’m going to take you to a friend of mine and he’s going to take good care of you by repairing your injuries. You were very lucky I arrived when I did.”
“I was ready to die.”
The strange mech sighed, arms tightening slightly around Prowl clutching him closer.
“I know how it feels to lose your parents, little one. It hurts. You miss them.”
“I wanted to be with them again,” Prowl wept.
“One day you will. Until then, you are going to do what I do, take it one day at a time. Your friends will be with you along to way if you need them just as mine are there for me.”
“I…I don’t have any friends,” Prowl sniffled. “They all died to when Praxus was destroyed.”
“Well, you do now,” the mech smiled warmly. “My name’s Jazz. What’s yours?”
“Prowl,” he sniffled.
“Relax and recharge, little Prowl. I promise you everything’s going to be ok.”
13 Thirteen
White armor gleamed. Black armory was exceptionally glossy. Doorwings flared up to their highest point on an arched back. Arms relaxed in their positions as their hands were clasped together behind the back. Strong legs were sturdy and straight, disciplined in their support. Handsome facial features regally set not giving away any hint of emotions. Optics slightly narrowed, focused intently.
In short, a picture of calm, pristine mechliness on display.
However, Prowl was anything but calm as the transport made its final approach into the Iacon station. He was a nervous wreck. It’d been thirteen long vorns since his friend and guardian had last seen him. He wanted to look his best. After all, he was an Autobot now too having graduated from the Academy with high honors and at the top of his class.
Every high mark and distinguished reward all earned out right did nothing to help with Prowl’s current dilemma. A dilemma that he’d been procrastinating about for several vorns now. And now said dilemma had to be dealt with. No more procrastinating. It was time to tell Jazz.
Prowl knew it had to be done no matter how difficult it was. After all Jazz was more than just a friend. The mech was his mentor and unofficial guardian during Prowl’s early youth. The mech was not only responsible for saving Prowl’s life that fateful day in the graveyard, but he was also responsible for where Prowl was today.
Since Jazz was a special ops mech he could not in good conscience be a proper guardian to Prowl. Special ops missions required Jazz to be gone for deca-cycles at a time in some instances which did not promote a sense of stability in a youngling’s life. However, the vibrant mech convinced a bonded pair to adopt Prowl.
Of course, it didn’t take much to convince Optimus Prime and Elita One to take in Prowl with open arms. Besides, other than them being the best choice they had a son of their own, a mech named Bumblebee, who had desperately wanted a brother. Plus, it was a convenient arrangement as Jazz was directly under Optimus Prime’s command at Decagon.
So, Jazz was often seen around the base with two little younglings chasing after him when he was off duty. Or sometimes he carried them on his shoulders, until they got too big to fit on his shoulders. He was even their sparkling sitter when Optimus and Elita wanted alone time or had important duties to attend to.
But it was Prowl who took the friendship more to spark than Bumblebee. After all, Jazz saved his life. And since that day, Prowl had always wanted to find away to repay Jazz. Which was why, as a very young teenager, Prowl asked permission to attend the Youth Military Academy with plans on continuing his studies at the Autobot Academy where he’d planned on focusing his training in the area of special operations.
When Prowl told Jazz all of this the mech was overexcited and said he couldn’t wait until Prowl was a mature mech. Jazz even promised to help Prowl become the best special ops mech on Cybertron, well, next best after Jazz. The mech couldn't wait to teach Prowl all the tricks of the trade. At least, that was the plan anyway.
Only all didn’t go as planned once Prowl was at the Autobot Academy.
“You need to relax, Prowl.”
“How can I, Bee?”
“Look, remember when mother and father came to visit us at the academy last vorn?”
“Of course, I remember each of their visits and have cherished every one of them.”
“Remember what father said to us?”
“He said he was proud of us, not because we were going to be Autobots when we graduated, but because of the mechs we’d matured into. Honorable and compassionate.”
“That’s right. Jazz is like Optimus too. He don’t care that much about our training. He’s going to so happy and proud to see us again.”
“But like Optimus, Jazz appreciates it when you’re honest with him,” Prowl countered, turning to face his brother.
“You never lied to him. You just never volunteered to tell him your spark’s desire.”
Prowl’s doorwings dropped. While what Bumblebee said was true, it didn’t make Prowl feel any better.
“Look, when we arrive and after mother stops fussing over how handsome we look, I’ll usher mother and father away to give you a chance to talk to Jazz alone. Ok?”
“Thanks Bumblebee. You’re a good brother.”
“Well, I owe you big time for helping me with the homework for some of my classes. I wouldn’t have graduated without you.”
The transport speakers announced their arrival at Iacon station and Prowl’s doorwings tensed up once again.
“You’ll be fine,” Bumblebee smiled, patting him on the shoulder.
Prowl nodded and followed his brother out onto the platform. As predicted, Elita was excited and showered them with comments on how handsome her two sons looked. Bumblebee took it all in stride while Prowl blushed at a few of her comments. Optimus stood tall, optics glowing with a father’s pride as he welcomed his sons home.
Jazz was there too just off to the side allowing the family to be reunited. Then as promised, Bumblebee spoke with his parents of their bond. Of course, Optimus and Elita understood the special friendship between Jazz and Prowl. They’d seen how Prowl took to Jazz and never did anything to get in the way of that friendship. So, they wouldn’t do anything to get in the way of the two friend’s reunion either.
“So, what do you think?” Prowl expectantly asked once he and Jazz were alone.
“You've changed so much! I can’t believe it! Even your doorwings are bigger!”
“It’s been thirteen vorns since I last saw you. I was a youngling then.”
“Well, you certainly matured into a very handsome mech,” Jazz smiled.
Prowl blushed brightly. He’d received compliments like that before but only when Elita or Jazz gives them does he ever blush.
“So, you wanna tell me what’s on your processor?” Jazz asked.
Prowl blinked in surprise.
“I’m special ops, Prowl. I notice things that the normal mechs and femmes don’t see. Besides, Bumblebee wasn't exactly that discrete about getting Optimus and Elita to leave us alone.”
“You’re right, Jazz. I do have something I need to tell you,” Prowl said, standing up tall. Time to do this. “I know we’d discussed me completing the special ops training at the academy.”
“Which you did as you indicated in a communiqué,” Jazz beamed proudly. “Almost the best. Hard to top a special ops mech who can go invisible on ya. Not even I could top that.”
“Correct. Jazz…I…I have decided to go with an area of expertise where I could do the most good for the Autobots.”
“I know,” Jazz smiled warmly, rubbing the top of Prowl’s helm. “I was very proud when I heard you were the top military tactician in training. Blew away all the other recruits. The instructors were scrambling around trying to find new ways to test ya!”
“You knew?!” Prowl exclaimed, mouth open, doorwings dropping.
“Prowl, just because you were all the way on the other side of Cybertron and I hadn’t seen you in thirteen vorns, didn’t mean I wasn’t keeping tabs on ya. I have several mech friends who are instructors at the Academy. Plus, Optimus Prime wasn't about to allow both his sons to attend the Academy without someone there keeping their optics on you both. Optimus and I were kept well informed of both yours and Bumblebee’s advancements. And I knew you were serious about being a tactician when they told me you applied to have a battle computer installed in your CPU. I’m very, very proud of you.”
“And all this time I thought you’d get mad at me,” Prowl said, shaking his head.
“I could never get mad at you,” Jazz spoke seriously. “A part of me still sees you as that little youngling who looked up to me whenever you followed me around like a little mechano-puppy.”
“I’m no little youngling anymore,” Prowl smiled proudly. “And it’s all because of you, my friend.”
It was Jazz’s turn to blush, an accomplishment no other mechanism has managed to do!
“Jazz?”
“Yes, Prowl?”
“Will you be there with me…tomorrow…when they install my battle computer?”
“Of course, my friend,” Jazz grinned. “I’ll be there smiling when you come out of recharge.”
1. Darkness
Prowl rubbed his neck as he punched in the code to his quarters. It’d been a long day and all he wanted to do was recharge. However, Jazz had other plans, slipping in silently behind his lover and pulling the blind fold over Prowl’s optics.
“Jazz, I can’t see a thing!”
“That’s the idea,” Jazz whispered into Prowl’s audio receptor, while caressing his doorwings.
Prowl stiffened not expecting the sudden intimate contact.
“Shh, relax, babe,” Jazz purred softly, rubbing his cheek against Prowl’s audio receptor. “Allow me to take care of everything. I only ask one thing of you.”
“What’s that?” Prowl asked, his voice quivering slightly as his body was responding to his lover’s continual affections.
“You have to keep the blindfold on,” Jazz answered, tying the blind fold in place as if anticipating his bond mate’s reply.
Prowl slowly nodded and surrendered, allowing his remaining four senses to be bombarded and overwhelmed by Jazz, taking him to a new pleasurable plateau he’d never dreamed about.
2. Black Cat
Hound smiled, cradling the soft, purring critter in the palm of his hand.
“Hound, you know that organic creature can’t stay here,” Prowl firmly stated.
“Oh boy, what’d you find this time Hound?” Jazz smiled, sauntering up, unable to resist not taking a peek.
“Poor little guy got lost is all,” Hound answered, showing Jazz.
“AH!” Jazz screamed and took off running.
Prowl watched with much interest as the saboteur disappeared down the hallway.
“On second thought, Hound, may I borrow the little black cat? I may have finally found away to keep Jazz and the other deviants, aka Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, out of my office so I can get some work done without interruptions or embarrassing pranks.”
“That’s funny. I never knew Jazz to be the superstitious type,” Hound commented, handing the feline creature over to Prowl.
“He’s special ops. They’re all superstitious and paranoid. Jazz is just good at hiding it.”
“And the twins?”
“Sunstreaker is the superstitious one. He won’t risk getting his paint job damaged. And Sideswipe won’t pull a prank without his brother.”
3 Ghost
The sound of sniffling filled the room as the music softly played. Prowl smiled warmly, looking over. Without hesitation, he reached over to rub Jazz’s neck before pulling the mech against his chest.
“You cry every time we watch that movie,” he murmured into the silver mech’s audio receptor.
“I can’t help it,” Jazz sobbed softly, snuggling closer. “I just think of how much I love you when I watch it.”
Prowl kissed the side of Jazz’s helm. “Ditto.”
Added explanation for those who have never seen the movie: omg, I thought every femme has seen this movie! If you have not seen this movie I suggest you do! It's called Ghost with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. Demi's character would say 'I love you' and Patrick's character would always respond with 'Ditto'. Now go watch the movie!!!!!
4. Pumpkins
Prowl looked up from reading a report when he heard the rare cursing and grumbling of his sparkmate. His optics instantly widened upon seeing this yellowish, stringy, substance hanging from various places of Jazz’s form.
“What happened?” Prowl gently questioned, noting the noticeably annoyed look on the mech’s face.
“Got into a scrap with a Decepticon,” Jazz answered, feeling disgustingly sticky. “In the middle of a pumpkin patch. He used them as ammo, the fragger. It’s gonna take me a week to get this slag off!”
“Need help?” Prowl asked with a smirk. Jazz raised an optic ridge. “I can’t have my sparkmate put out a whole week. What if I need an interface or sparkbond to relax from being overworked?”
“That is a very practical way of thinking Prowl,” Jazz devilishly smiled.
5. Costumes
Prowl sat alone as far away from the other younglings as he could get. His small doorwings drooped dejectedly on his back. He was trying not to cry but nothing could stop his tears from falling. So he kept his head bowed down so no one could see his face.
“Ya left yur energon treats behind,” a youngling mech his age said, holding them for Prowl to take.
“I don’t want them,” Prowl sniffled, wiping his nose on his forearm.
“Are ya cryin’?”
“…”
“Are ya hurt? I saw one o’ them bullies grab yur doorwing.”
“I’m fine.”
“Then why are ya cryin’?”
“They were making fun of my costume,” Prowl wept quietly. “My mom helped me with it.”
“Yur supposed to be an Enforcer, right?”
Prowl nodded, “My father was an Enforcer. I want to be one too when I’m mature.”
“Ma father was an Enforcer too. He died a year ago. Mom an’ me just finally moved to Praxus to live with ma grandma. It hurt too much to stay in our old home.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Yeah,” the youngling mech sighed, sitting down next to Prowl.
“I miss mine too.”
“He would ‘a liked yur costume!”
“Really?” Prowl asked, raising his doorwings up.
“Yup.”
“Where’s your costume?”
The mech smiled brightly, showing Prowl a visor. Then he put it on.
“I’m a spy! And this is ma special visor that lets me see in the dark!”
“Want to play a game?” Prowl asked excitedly.
“What kind o’ game?”
“I’m an Enforcer and you’re the spy I have to catch.”
“Ok! What’s yur name? So, I know what to call ya when I escape.”
“Prowl.”
“Cool name. I’m Jazz. Are ya fast, Prowl?”
“The fastest in the class.”
“As fast as me?” Jazz grinned then took off running and laughing.
“I’m going to get you Jazz!” Prowl shouted, racing after his new friend.
6. Crescent Moon
“No! No! Prowl don’t sit there…oh slag!” Jazz grimaced at the annoyed look on his sparkmate’s face.
“What did I just sit on and why is it sticking to my aft?” Prowl asked, rising out of his seat.
Jazz reached around and pulled of crescent moon shaped marshmallow candy off Prowl’s aft. Then he pulled another and another.
“Sorry Prowl," Jazz replied, pulling yet another crescent moon shaped marshmellow candy from Prowl's aft. "I told Spike to not leave the package open and to take them with him when he left for his Halloween party.”
"Make sure you get them all off."
"I'm checking!" Jazz said, leaning around to get a good look at Prowl's aft.
"Hey! You two shouldn't be doing that stuff in public! We have young processors here that might fritz!" Ratchet yelled at Prowl and Jazz.
7. Orange
“Come on babe, online those baby blues for me,” Jazz pleaded worriedly, leaning over his sparkmate.
Prowl groaned, grabbing his forehead.
“I think he’s finally coming around,” Jazz grinned in relief.
“Prowl, can you hear me?” Ratchet asked.
“My aching processor,”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the CMO smiled. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Prowl onlined his optics, taking a moment to recall how he ended up flat on his back in the middle of the road.
“Not sure,” he frowned as Jazz helped him up to his feet. “One moment I was engaged with Thundercracker. Then next moment I was turning and saw only the color orange up really close.”
“Skywarp decided to use the ‘Road Construction Ahead’ signed as a baseball bat and your head as the ball,” Jazz answered. “If it’s any consolation, the sign is in bad shape too.”
Prowl looked down to the orange construction sign broken in two.
"No Jazz. It's no consolation. My processor still hurts," Prowl commented.
8. Trick
Ratchet bitched and grumbled as he carefully removed the cranium plating of Prowl’s head. He was the first mech to admit he couldn’t wait for this Halloween business to be over and done with. The pranks were out of hand! It was almost chaos in the hallways every night!
Every single prank victim ended up in the medical bay keeping Ratchet a very busy mech. Then as soon as he was done with the poor victim he’d seek out the pranksters for punishment. Sunny and Sides had the most dents in their armor from the flying wrenches.
But just about every bot, including Optimus, at least had one dent for pulling a prank. Prime’s however was because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The entire Ark went silent and into hiding when their Prime fell grabbing his crotch plate. Ratchet quickly put First Aid in charge and disappeared for three days.
It wasn’t enough. Optimus still threw his CMO in the brig...literally.
Today’s latest patient was the Autobot’s second in command, Prowl. The poor mech was the victim of a dirty trick by the twins who purposely cajoled the mech into crashing his CPU. It was a common enough occurrence except this time smoke was actually billowing up from the mech’s head. A sure sign that some serious damage might have been caused.
Sunny and Sides loved a good prank and didn’t mind if some physical damage occurred. However, they never wanted the unsuspecting mech to suffer irreparable damage. So the destructive duo hurried their latest victim to the medical bay and explained to Ratchet what’d happened.
“So, how bad is he?” Sideswipe asked.
Ratchet growled at them, making the brothers cringe in their seats. Silence followed. The two brothers prayed adamantly to Primus that the mech was ok and that Ratchet wouldn’t kill them. They both stopped mid prayer when Ratchet smiled.
It wasn’t just a normal smile. It was a happy smile either. It was almost…evil!
“Ah, Ratchet, why are you grinning like a mad scientist?” Sunny asked.
“Retribution,” Ratchet grinned as he continually worked.
“You wouldn’t risk your patient’s well being to take your revenge on us!” Sideswipe pointed out.
“I don’t have to.”
The brother’s looked quizzically at the CMO.
“You have no clue do you?” Ratchet observed.
“Ah…about what?” the brothers asked.
“Prowl…and Jazz…they’re bonded.”
“So,” Sunny scoffed.
“Oh slag!” Sideswipe yelped, trembling.
“WHERE ARE THEY?!” Jazz’s distinctly deep voice boomed from the hallway.
“I’d run if I were you,” Ratchet chuckled. “The pair is fiercely protective of each other. As brothers I’m sure you understand the closeness that comes with being bonded.”
“THERE YOU ARE!”
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe jumped up and turned to see Jazz in the doorway, aiming Optimus Prime’s huge rifle cannon at them.
“RUN SIDES!”
“RIGHT BEHIND YOU BRO!”
“GET BACK HERE YOU FRAGGERS!” Jazz roared giving chase after the brothers.
Ratchet giggled, carefully placing the cranium plating back on Prowl’s head.
“It’s all clear now. They’re gone.”
Prowl onlined his optics and smiled, “Thank you for your assistance Ratchet. With your help and Red Alert recording the entire incident, we should have successfully stopped the pranking for the time being.”
“At this point, I’ll take any reprieve I can get. I’m surprised you came up with the idea.”
“Jazz was too. Although, using Optimus cannon was his idea. I just hope he got Prime’s permission first.”
“JAZZ! GIVE ME MY WEAPON BACK!”
Ratchet and Prowl took off running down the emergency exit of the medical bay. Only one mech on the base was worse than Ratchet on a rampage. One massively, huge, pissed off Optimus Prime.
9. Spider Webs
Prowl crept along silently in the darkness, relying solely on Jazz’s special visor to guide them quickly through the cave. The tactician felt somewhat embarrassed about the situation he’d gotten himself into. For whatever reason, it seemed the Prowl was not immune to the childish dares many of the mechs have spawned during the month of October.
The scarier the dare the better.
It was Bumblebee that dared Prowl to spend one night in the spooky cave. No one else had been able to. Jazz said they were testing Prowl’s mech-hood which of course ruffled his doorwings. He stoically took the challenge and succeeded.
Only problem was when it was time to leave Prowl’s headlights shorted out. Too much moisture in the cave combined with the fact that he was long over due for a maintenance exam that would have prevented such complications from occurring. As a result, Prowl had to call for help to get out of the cave.
“Jazz, are you sure this is the right direction? I don’t recall this many turns.”
“Relax, this is a short cut. There’s an exit about twenty meters from here. Bumblebee’s waiting for us.”
“Are you…”
Suddenly something touched his doorwing, silencing him. Prowl instinctively pulled them in for safety. When he turned around, he couldn’t detect anything.
“Prowl?”
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” he sighed, lifting his doorwings back up, feeling foolish. “I just want to get out of here.”
Jazz chuckled, grabbing his bond mates hand then continued on.
After only a few more steps it happened again. Prowl whirled around at the sensation now thinking that they weren’t alone, that one of the others was trying to play a trick on him.
A low growl sounded from his vocal processer. He was not in the mood for games.
“What is it?” Jazz asked, concerned knowing Prowl doesn’t go on the defense for no particular reason.
“Something touched my doorwings,” he whispered, squinting his optics, glaring into the darkness.
Jazz looked up to inspect the beautiful appendages he loved playing with. He knew how sensitive they were and was always careful when handling them. And he had words with any mechanism that would try to purposely harm them. But what Jazz saw made him literally fall to the ground laughing.
“I fail to see the humor in this, Jazz!”
“I’m sorry,” he laughed, grabbing his sides. “It’s just too funny!”
“What’s too funny?” Prowl growled.
“No one touched your doorwings. The passed through some spider webs!”
Prowl felt the heat rush to his cheeks. This was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. He got all riled up over harmless spider webs.
“Hey you guys ok in there?!” Bumblebee’s voice shouted from the darkness ahead of them.
“Yeah, Prowl just…”
Jazz suddenly found a hand clamped over his mouth.
“You utter one word of this and I promise you no interfacing, teasing, or spark bonding for a month!” Prowl threatened in a low dangerous tone.
Jazz vigorously nodded that he’d behave so Prowl released him.
“There you guys are!” Bumblebee smiled, shining his head lights. “These spider webs are cool, huh?”
“Yeah, they’re cool,” Prowl commented flatly. “Right Jazz?”
“Super cool!” Jazz smiled.
10. Fog
His processor was still whirling in the pleasurable fog that had consumed him. He was reluctant to emerge from it having never experienced such a long night of intensely passionate interfacing. Oh he’d had lots of all nighters with lovers before but nothing this intense, this invigorating, this spark jolting. And all this from the most unlikeliest of mechs on the most unlikeliest of Earth’s holidays.
In hindsight, he supposed that logically it made sense for this to occur on Halloween night. All the other mechs, including their Prime, were celebrating the night’s festivities in the recreation room by consuming large amounts of high grade and eating energon treats laced with one of Wheeljack’s highly intoxicating drinks.
That’s where his evening started off as well. He’d intended to get just as inebriated as his friends only to be surprised when a tender hand reached around, stroking the sensitive plating on his lower back. It was accompanied by that mesmerizing husky voice whispering into his audio receptor, ‘Come with me, please.’
He had no idea that by complying to those four little words that he’d end up like this with the mech he’d secretly been in love with for so many countless vorns dating back all the way to Cybertron and Iacon where they first met. He snuggled closer to the mech and let a giddy giggle sound from his vocal processor as he felt like the luckiest mech in the galaxy at the moment.
“What’s so funny?” that husky voice asked, nuzzling his helm, kissing his audio receptor.
“I just can’t believe I’m here with you right now. Exactly where I’ve wanted to be for so long.”
“Hmm, it gives me satisfaction to know you’re happy,” the mech sighed contently.
“You do know I’m never letting you go. Not after having the best night of overloads in my entire life!”
The other mech chuckled, “I was only happy to oblige.”
“And then some. I was pleasantly surprised. Yet some how I always knew that beneath that tight aft, stoically handsome face of yours was a deeply passionate mech dying to come out.”
“Only for you Jazz,” Prowl murmured. “Only for you.”
11. Treat
Jazz sauntered up to where his lover was sitting, one hand hiding behind his back, “Trick or Treat, Prowl?”
“Why do people bother asking the question when logically they will chose treat 99.99 percent of the time?” Prowl countered, sounding more annoyed than usual.
“Are you going to answer the question or not?”
“Do I really have to when I’ve already explained the logical choice?”
“Fine,” Jazz huffed and then popped the treat in his mouth. The same treat he had every intention of giving Prowl.
Prowl gave Jazz a look of complete surprise which only made the saboteur grin even wider. Then a hurt expression flashed briefly across the tactician’s faceplates before he abruptly stood up and left.
“Prowl, where are ya going?” Jazz laughed, shaking his head.
“Uh ho! I know some mech who’s not getting his treat tonight in the berth!” Bluestreak snickered.
“It’s alright,” Jazz smirked. “I’ll still get mine.”
“I don’t know Jazz,” Bumblebee frowned. “If you’d been bonded to Prowl you would have known he was already upset.”
Now Jazz was surprised.
“The twins asked Prowl that same question earlier,” Bumblebee explained. “When Prowl answered Treat, they tricked him with a drugged treat. Knocked him out for a few minutes but it was all they needed.”
“Poor Prowl got strung up from his doorwings and gagged him so he couldn’t shout for help. Even shorted his communicator so he couldn’t use that either,” Bluestreak continued. “And was like that for several hours because they did it to him in his office.”
“He’d still be in there if Optimus hadn’t gone looking for a report the Prowl was supposed to turn in,” Bumblebee finished.
“Oh man, now I feel terrible,” Jazz frowned, looking in the direction Prowl disappeared. He was indeed feeling very guilty. “I presume Optimus punished the twins.”
“Oh yeah, Ratchet had to pound out a few dents then Ironhide took them on a mission with him,” Bumblebee smiled.
“That doesn’t sound like much punishment,” Jazz commented.
“It’s punishment…its raining and there’s lots of mud,” Bluestreak said.
“Then when they get back they get to spend a week in the brig…no bath or shower,” Bumblebee giggled.
“I take it back, that’s torture!” Jazz laughed. “Well, I’d better go apologize. Later guys.”
Two minutes later Jazz was at Prowl’s door, hacking the door lock. Prowl keeps changing the code making it more of a challenge for Jazz each time. Normally, Jazz wouldn’t mind but all he wanted to do was apologize to his love as quickly as possible.
“Finally!” Jazz exhaled when the door hissed open.
There was Prowl lying on his side doorwings moving in jerky movement and not their usually fluidity. Bonded or not, Jazz should have noticed Prowl’s emotional state just by how his doorwings rested. Only he didn’t paying attention earlier.
No more.
“Prowl.”
“Please, go Jazz. I’m not in the mood today. Ratchet ordered me to rest so that’s what I’m going to do. See you tomorrow.”
“Ok, I’ll go. After I apologize for being a jerk. Bumblebee and Bluestreak told me what happened,” Jazz spoke softly, sitting on the edge of the berth.
“I was going to tell you but…”
“I know, I was acting childish. I’m sorry. I have another energon treat if you want it.”
“I’m not hungry,” Prowl sighed.
“Then let me give you another treat, one I know that would make you feel better.”
Before Prowl could protest, Jazz sent gently bathed the wing joints with mag pulses from his hands. The doorwings noticeably relaxed.
“Now that is a treat I do enjoy,” Prowl smiled, shuttering his optic covers.
12. Graveyard
Prowl ran as fast as he could. He didn’t care which direction. He didn’t even care where he ended up. He just ran, legs pumping, arms swinging, vents wheezing from overexertion. In truth, he was too terrified to stop. He certainly didn’t dare look back over his shoulder. Besides, he didn’t have to. He could still hear their cackling as they gave chase.
His doorwings hurt badly from the cruel mistreatment they’d endured from the older youngling mechs. Energon trickled down his face from where they’d tried to pull his chevron off. He was no match for them as they were twice his age and height. All Prowl could do was take the punishment and wait for the opportunity to escape.
And when he saw an opening he took it without hesitation.
The leader of the small group had exposed himself to lubricate on Prowl to further the humiliation. Prowl had stuck with quick precision. At the time, he didn’t care if it was a dirty move or not by punching the mech’s interface rod. It certainly wasn’t the smartest thing to do as it only enraged them. Once their leader was back on his feet they raced after Prowl.
Prowl cried out in surprise when his foot suddenly clipped the ground. He was sent skidding hard across the ground. Every circuit in his body was on fire with pain. While struggling to get up, it was then that he noticed he’d escaped into a graveyard. He remembered the youth center’s Director mentioning that it was off limits to younglings when Prowl was first delivered there a deca-cycle ago.
The femme seemed to think the Prowl was some sort of hoodlum the moment she laid optics on him and thought he’d vandalize the place just like the others have done. He was nothing of the sorts. He always did what he was told. He was respectful and courteous of others. Knew the rules and obeyed them. He even told the Director when other youngling mechs were breaking the rules.
Now he regretted it for that was what brought their wrath down on him. It was all for nothing too as the Director thought he was lying and punished him by denying him his energon ration for the day.
And now he was here in a graveyard.
“A fitting end, I’d say.”
Prowl whirled around at the sound of that tormenting voice. His spark raced in panic as they surrounded him.
“Yeah. At least we don’t have to drag his body far to the grave.”
Tears filled Prowl’s optics. He couldn’t even call for help. And there was no way to escape this time. He tried to run anyway.
The first punch stopped him, knocking him to the ground. He screamed when they smashed his doorwings with their feet. All he could do was curled up as best as he could and await death.
It seemed to be taking forever to take him. Until finally he was numb all over and the darkness started closing in. Prowl welcomed it readily because then he would get to be with his creators again and he wouldn’t be in pain any longer.
“…you’re safe now,” a voice soothed. “Shh…you’re safe now.”
The voice was almost melodic as it lulled Prowl from the darkness. He opened his optics. Through white haze he saw the face of a stranger.
“Are you an angel sent by Primus?” Prowl asked.
The stranger chuckled, “No, I’m no angel.”
“Are you my guardian in the afterlife?”
“Well that would be kind of hard to do because you’re not dead. Although, I did give you a rather heavy dose to numb the pain. It kind of fogs up the processor too.”
Prowl blinked his optics to clear his vision as best he could. He immediately recognized the city’s skyline. Dread filled him and he started shaking. A wrenched sob sounded from his throated. He didn’t want to go back.
“Oh, hey, it’s ok,” the mech cooed, cradling Prowl close to his chest. “You won’t be going back to the youth center. And those bullies won’t ever harm you again. I promise. The youth center has been closed down. All the younglings have been taken to other youth centers for treatment of abuse. Per Optimus Prime’s orders.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“You did nothing wrong little one,” the mech smiled. “I’m going to take you to a friend of mine and he’s going to take good care of you by repairing your injuries. You were very lucky I arrived when I did.”
“I was ready to die.”
The strange mech sighed, arms tightening slightly around Prowl clutching him closer.
“I know how it feels to lose your parents, little one. It hurts. You miss them.”
“I wanted to be with them again,” Prowl wept.
“One day you will. Until then, you are going to do what I do, take it one day at a time. Your friends will be with you along to way if you need them just as mine are there for me.”
“I…I don’t have any friends,” Prowl sniffled. “They all died to when Praxus was destroyed.”
“Well, you do now,” the mech smiled warmly. “My name’s Jazz. What’s yours?”
“Prowl,” he sniffled.
“Relax and recharge, little Prowl. I promise you everything’s going to be ok.”
13 Thirteen
White armor gleamed. Black armory was exceptionally glossy. Doorwings flared up to their highest point on an arched back. Arms relaxed in their positions as their hands were clasped together behind the back. Strong legs were sturdy and straight, disciplined in their support. Handsome facial features regally set not giving away any hint of emotions. Optics slightly narrowed, focused intently.
In short, a picture of calm, pristine mechliness on display.
However, Prowl was anything but calm as the transport made its final approach into the Iacon station. He was a nervous wreck. It’d been thirteen long vorns since his friend and guardian had last seen him. He wanted to look his best. After all, he was an Autobot now too having graduated from the Academy with high honors and at the top of his class.
Every high mark and distinguished reward all earned out right did nothing to help with Prowl’s current dilemma. A dilemma that he’d been procrastinating about for several vorns now. And now said dilemma had to be dealt with. No more procrastinating. It was time to tell Jazz.
Prowl knew it had to be done no matter how difficult it was. After all Jazz was more than just a friend. The mech was his mentor and unofficial guardian during Prowl’s early youth. The mech was not only responsible for saving Prowl’s life that fateful day in the graveyard, but he was also responsible for where Prowl was today.
Since Jazz was a special ops mech he could not in good conscience be a proper guardian to Prowl. Special ops missions required Jazz to be gone for deca-cycles at a time in some instances which did not promote a sense of stability in a youngling’s life. However, the vibrant mech convinced a bonded pair to adopt Prowl.
Of course, it didn’t take much to convince Optimus Prime and Elita One to take in Prowl with open arms. Besides, other than them being the best choice they had a son of their own, a mech named Bumblebee, who had desperately wanted a brother. Plus, it was a convenient arrangement as Jazz was directly under Optimus Prime’s command at Decagon.
So, Jazz was often seen around the base with two little younglings chasing after him when he was off duty. Or sometimes he carried them on his shoulders, until they got too big to fit on his shoulders. He was even their sparkling sitter when Optimus and Elita wanted alone time or had important duties to attend to.
But it was Prowl who took the friendship more to spark than Bumblebee. After all, Jazz saved his life. And since that day, Prowl had always wanted to find away to repay Jazz. Which was why, as a very young teenager, Prowl asked permission to attend the Youth Military Academy with plans on continuing his studies at the Autobot Academy where he’d planned on focusing his training in the area of special operations.
When Prowl told Jazz all of this the mech was overexcited and said he couldn’t wait until Prowl was a mature mech. Jazz even promised to help Prowl become the best special ops mech on Cybertron, well, next best after Jazz. The mech couldn't wait to teach Prowl all the tricks of the trade. At least, that was the plan anyway.
Only all didn’t go as planned once Prowl was at the Autobot Academy.
“You need to relax, Prowl.”
“How can I, Bee?”
“Look, remember when mother and father came to visit us at the academy last vorn?”
“Of course, I remember each of their visits and have cherished every one of them.”
“Remember what father said to us?”
“He said he was proud of us, not because we were going to be Autobots when we graduated, but because of the mechs we’d matured into. Honorable and compassionate.”
“That’s right. Jazz is like Optimus too. He don’t care that much about our training. He’s going to so happy and proud to see us again.”
“But like Optimus, Jazz appreciates it when you’re honest with him,” Prowl countered, turning to face his brother.
“You never lied to him. You just never volunteered to tell him your spark’s desire.”
Prowl’s doorwings dropped. While what Bumblebee said was true, it didn’t make Prowl feel any better.
“Look, when we arrive and after mother stops fussing over how handsome we look, I’ll usher mother and father away to give you a chance to talk to Jazz alone. Ok?”
“Thanks Bumblebee. You’re a good brother.”
“Well, I owe you big time for helping me with the homework for some of my classes. I wouldn’t have graduated without you.”
The transport speakers announced their arrival at Iacon station and Prowl’s doorwings tensed up once again.
“You’ll be fine,” Bumblebee smiled, patting him on the shoulder.
Prowl nodded and followed his brother out onto the platform. As predicted, Elita was excited and showered them with comments on how handsome her two sons looked. Bumblebee took it all in stride while Prowl blushed at a few of her comments. Optimus stood tall, optics glowing with a father’s pride as he welcomed his sons home.
Jazz was there too just off to the side allowing the family to be reunited. Then as promised, Bumblebee spoke with his parents of their bond. Of course, Optimus and Elita understood the special friendship between Jazz and Prowl. They’d seen how Prowl took to Jazz and never did anything to get in the way of that friendship. So, they wouldn’t do anything to get in the way of the two friend’s reunion either.
“So, what do you think?” Prowl expectantly asked once he and Jazz were alone.
“You've changed so much! I can’t believe it! Even your doorwings are bigger!”
“It’s been thirteen vorns since I last saw you. I was a youngling then.”
“Well, you certainly matured into a very handsome mech,” Jazz smiled.
Prowl blushed brightly. He’d received compliments like that before but only when Elita or Jazz gives them does he ever blush.
“So, you wanna tell me what’s on your processor?” Jazz asked.
Prowl blinked in surprise.
“I’m special ops, Prowl. I notice things that the normal mechs and femmes don’t see. Besides, Bumblebee wasn't exactly that discrete about getting Optimus and Elita to leave us alone.”
“You’re right, Jazz. I do have something I need to tell you,” Prowl said, standing up tall. Time to do this. “I know we’d discussed me completing the special ops training at the academy.”
“Which you did as you indicated in a communiqué,” Jazz beamed proudly. “Almost the best. Hard to top a special ops mech who can go invisible on ya. Not even I could top that.”
“Correct. Jazz…I…I have decided to go with an area of expertise where I could do the most good for the Autobots.”
“I know,” Jazz smiled warmly, rubbing the top of Prowl’s helm. “I was very proud when I heard you were the top military tactician in training. Blew away all the other recruits. The instructors were scrambling around trying to find new ways to test ya!”
“You knew?!” Prowl exclaimed, mouth open, doorwings dropping.
“Prowl, just because you were all the way on the other side of Cybertron and I hadn’t seen you in thirteen vorns, didn’t mean I wasn’t keeping tabs on ya. I have several mech friends who are instructors at the Academy. Plus, Optimus Prime wasn't about to allow both his sons to attend the Academy without someone there keeping their optics on you both. Optimus and I were kept well informed of both yours and Bumblebee’s advancements. And I knew you were serious about being a tactician when they told me you applied to have a battle computer installed in your CPU. I’m very, very proud of you.”
“And all this time I thought you’d get mad at me,” Prowl said, shaking his head.
“I could never get mad at you,” Jazz spoke seriously. “A part of me still sees you as that little youngling who looked up to me whenever you followed me around like a little mechano-puppy.”
“I’m no little youngling anymore,” Prowl smiled proudly. “And it’s all because of you, my friend.”
It was Jazz’s turn to blush, an accomplishment no other mechanism has managed to do!
“Jazz?”
“Yes, Prowl?”
“Will you be there with me…tomorrow…when they install my battle computer?”
“Of course, my friend,” Jazz grinned. “I’ll be there smiling when you come out of recharge.”