Chapter Text
Prowl looked up from the battle reports at the sound of his office door opening and frowned when Jazz shuffled in. "You should be resting."
"You sound like Ratch'," Jazz replied, aiming for his usual cheer but falling short on account of the mess he was in. Ozone burn marks everywhere, armor dented and torn in places, temp patches covering one entire side, and visor shattered in half, leaving one optic bare. The only reason Ratchet would have allowed Jazz out of medical would be because there was not enough room.
...or maybe Ratchet hadn't allowed, and Jazz had just snuck off on his own when the medic was busy with others. They just had an intense battle at Kappa Pass, securing the passage between Iacon and Kalis. The Decepticons brought Bruticus Maximus, while Autobots from both Iacon and Kalis threw everything to defend the area and drive the Decepticons back south. Jazz had been in the thick of it, engaging the combiner directly, and it showed in every bit of his plating.
Prowl kept his disapproving stare until Jazz reached the couch for visitors and sank into it. "Has Ratchet discharged you?" he asked.
"I'm fine, Prowler," Jazz said, fiddling with his broken visor and coaxing it to come loose. Bits of reinforced crystals fell to the floor in glittering patterns. He wagged the unbroken end at Prowl. "And anyway, look who's talking. Optimus specifically told everyone those reports can wait. You're making the rest of us look bad by overachieving, Prowl, including Optimus himself."
Without the shield of his visor, Jazz's gaze was hundred times more intense. Prowl shuddered lightly. "I was not in the center of the fighting."
"No, you were blowing out that powerful processor of yours trying to micromanage and keep track of everything. Ratchet won't be happy if he has to treat you for headache on top of everything just because you don't know how to wind down."
Prowl flared out his doorwings. "I do have to keep track of everything, if it helps win the battles."
He had worked surprisingly well with the lead strategist from Kalis, and Autobot casualties had been at minimum as a result. He was proud of that, if nothing else.
"Ain't gonna help win the war if you burn out first," Jazz replied. He set aside the broken visor and fished out a replacement from his subspace.
Prowl watched Jazz examine the new visor critically, noticing tiny glints from crystal particles still stuck near the saboteur's optics. Before Jazz could attempt to put on his new visor, Prowl stood from his chair and strode around his desk. "Jazz, wait."
Jazz stilled as Prowl carefully brushed off the remaining particles. Then Prowl took the visor and sat on the couch to get a better angle at lining up the edge with the connectors on the Jazz's helm, making sure it was inserted in correctly. The visor, custom designed and built to be exact, fit in smoothly. Prowl tried not to lament it when Jazz's optics went back to being hidden away.
The visor flickered as it integrated with Jazz's systems. He made minor adjustments for his comfort, then grinned.
"If I'd known all it took to get you away from your desk was to pretend I need help with this thing..."
Prowl gave a small smile of his own. "You are already too good at distracting me from work."
Jazz laughed. "Flatterer."
He shifted on his seat and leaned heavily on Prowl's shoulder, powering off his optics. "Well, I did come here to rest, actually, so let's see if I can distract you just by recharging."
Prowl started to protest, but Jazz's engines were already purring contently, and really he wasn't wrong about that headache.
Later, when Ratchet came looking for Jazz and yell at Prowl for overclocking, he found the pair in deep recharge against each other on the couch. Tutting, he draped a medical blanket over them and left quietly.