Chapter 1: I̸n̴s̴t̷i̶n̴c̶t̵i̸v̷e̸ ̵ decision
Chapter Text
Prowl was no longer used to being out in the field, and he mentally pitied himself as he realized this.
A blast further away shook the ground, and dust covered part of the field. As the dust settled, Prowl moved behind some rocks, taking cover while recalculating.
As chief tactician, he was supposed to be at the base, with a hologram in front of him to view the entire area, and working with Blaster to maintain constant communication with the forces on the battlefield.
However, today he was there, on the front line. There were two reasons for this: firstly, Smokescreen, his second, was supposed to be the strategist on site, but was currently convalescing. Secondly, the Decepticons seemed to have developed new jammers, and the risk that the Autobots would be out of communication with Prowl was too important to be ignored.
-[:: Don't get overwhelmed, mech!~ ::] Jazz spoke through their communications.
Prowl glanced aside, to meet the blue visor of his colleague, who was several meters away, also under cover. Prowl felt his sparks tingle as he noticed the large smile on his face, and decided to ignore it by rolling his eyes dramatically, just to make it clear to Jazz that he was annoying him.
-[:: I don't get overwhelmed, I adapt our strategy ::] Prowl retorted, his calculations continuing to run in the background of his processor.
He saw more than he heard Jazz's laughter. The other officer was brimming with a cheerfulness that seemed inexhaustible, even if there was a 90% chance that it was all an act, considering Jazz's capacity for pretending.
Prowl sometimes wondered if he was the only one who saw beyond what Jazz was willing to show.
Perhaps he was. Perhaps it was due to their shared experiences over the last few years, their constant collaboration even behind their comrades' backs.
Prowl learned, sometimes at his own expense.
Today, as so many times before, Jazz was on the battlefield, in a spot where he wasn't supposed to be. Prowl himself had planned this strategy, he knew everyone's positions, and clearly, Jazz wasn't supposed to be there. He should have been on another part of the field, dealing with the Seekers with other designated Autobots.
But Prowl considered Jazz's disobedience in his calculations, so there was exactly an 88% chance that he wouldn't follow the plan to get closer to Soundwave.
It was always like that.
Prowl glanced at Jazz, who was himself watching Soundwave standing a little further away.
Honestly, Prowl wondered how no one had noticed anything yet.
It was obvious, that Jazz and Soundwave were in a relationship.
Prowl didn't know if it was because his mind was constantly on all their strategies and reports, but he found it hard to ignore that Jazz always managed to be in close proximity to Soundwave during every battle. And Jazz was competent, perfectly capable of shutting down an opponent. So why was Soundwave always able to escape without injury?
No sooner had the thought formed in Prowl's processor than it was gone. His optics focused on Soundwave, more specifically on the shards of his armor that flew when he was hit by a shot, before his body wobbled and fell backwards.
-SOUND! Jazz's scream was drowned out by the ambient noise.
Prowl barely glanced at his team-mate, whose eternal smile had sunk to a tetanized grimace. He began to make a hesitant movement, probably with the idea of going to the Decepticon's aid.
Prowl's processor seemed to empty completely at this point. He couldn't let Jazz intervene and risk getting caught. So, ignoring all sense of logic and self-preservation, Prowl left his shelter and rushed towards Soundwave.
He didn't check on Jazz's reaction, but hoped the Spy would stay out of it.
Prowl knelt down beside the tape carrier and grabbed his shoulder:
-Get up! he ordered firmly.
Soundwave was disoriented, but not enough to remain inert on the ground. He struggled to his feet, a gaping hole in his second shoulder, wires exposed and sizzling, energon flowing ominously.
Prowl consolidated his grip on him and used all his strength to pull him just a little further away and into cover.
Once they were in some semblance of shelter behind the rocks, Prowl rushed to perform first aid, at least to stop the bleeding.
Soundwave hadn't said anything so far, just looked at him, probably stunned by the pain and shock. But while he may have looked impassive - due to the mask and visor - he finally spoke up, in a strangely hesitant voice that betrayed a hint of incomprehension:
-Prowl: helping Soundwave?
Prowl didn't dare reply or look at him. He kept his optics fixed on the wound, from which he had managed to stop the bleeding.
Soundwave was still too stunned to insist or say anything else.
All around them, the battle was still going on.
Prowl checked the state of the wound one last time. Then, inadvertently, he looked up at Soundwave's visor.
Soundwave was staring back at him.
Prowl could see his optics analyzing him behind the opaque visor. He swallowed, letting a semblance of doubt and concern betray his facial expression.
He hesitantly stepped aside. Then he finally turned away, and left the shelter to return to the battle.
What had he done?
After an interminable length of time, the Decepticons finally retreated. Prowl checked that they had recovered Soundwave. Fortunately, they had.
But why did he fear he would leave him behind?... Besides... Maybe it would have been preferable if the Decepticons simply abandoned him? So the Autobots could have captured Soundwave and...
Prowl shook his helmet. No, he shouldn't be thinking about this. He'd already deviated from his role by healing the enemy.
While the Autobots were returning to the Ark, no one made the slightest comment about Prowl. Probably because no one had noticed anything except Jazz . The terrain wasn't the most suitable for visibility, so Prowl must have gone unnoticed, fortunately.
They arrived at the base and Prowl set off discreetly for his quarters- he didn't want to go to the infirmary and endure Ratchet's remonstrances.
Not surprisingly, he felt a presence at his back. A familiar presence.
Prowl said nothing at first. He walked through the empty corridors until he reached his quarters. As he stopped in front of his door to unlock it, he sighed:
-Would you like to come in, Jazz?
He didn't even glance at the spy standing a few steps away. Prowl entered his room without waiting for an answer, but he perceived the footsteps that followed him.
The door closed, trapping him in the room with Jazz.
Prowl finally turned around, arms crossed, head held high, ready to fulfill his role as a serious, unflappable officer.
Jazz stared back at him, equally serious and without a hint of a smile. It was rare to see him like this.
After a few seconds' silence, Jazz spoke, his voice devoid of emotion-and coming from Jazz, it betrayed a certain distress-.
-Why did you help him?
Prowl pressed his lips together, not immediately trusting his voice. He took the time to inhale, to search for his words, before answering, almost too low:
-Because otherwise, you would have done it.
The silence stretched on, and Prowl struggled to keep his door wings from twitching; he wanted to remain impassive, but it was getting complicated. Especially with Jazz still staring at him. It was similar to Soundwave: the visor hid his gaze, but didn't prevent him from feeling that he was being watched.
Finally, Jazz murmured:
-You noticed?
Prowl raised an eyebrow. Notice what? That Jazz regularly observed Soundwave, whether on the battlefield or on the various recordings they had of him? That he always found a good excuse to be the one to fight him? That strangely enough, their fights always ended in a draw, with neither of them seriously injured? Or that Jazz seemed to be having a particularly good time hacking into the Decepticon network, especially when Soundwave retorted and the two engaged in virtual battles?
Prowl wondered if Jazz knew about all the little clues he was leaving here and there, not to mention the spy's habit of disappearing without warning - and the tactician suspected that his disappearances weren't always top-secret missions, even if Jazz would have us believe otherwise.
Beyond that: why hadn't anyone but Prowl noticed anything yet?
Prowl often questioned this, because the whole situation seemed so obvious to him. But he came back to his earlier conclusion: you couldn't spend that much time with someone without getting to know them a minimum.
...and probably his own feelings for Jazz had played a major role in his observations.
-You should leave, Prowl simply replied.
There was no need for them to discuss this for hours. What was the point? Prowl was far above emotional states. He wasn't programmed to be sentimental, but to work out military tactics and if they started talking too much, he felt he'd start worrying unnecessarily.
But Jazz didn't leave. Instead, he took a step towards Prowl:
-You didn't answer my question.
Prowl didn't back down despite his growing envy:
-I've got nothing to answer.
-Why did you help Sound?
-Is it really important?
He saw Jazz's lips twitch slightly, and the mech with the blue visor took another step:
-You could have denounced me to OP. You could have put me in jail. You...you could have let Sound die.
Jazz was finally close to him, so close they were almost touching.
Prowl looked away for a brief second before regaining his composure, but when he looked again at Jazz, Jazz's mouth had lowered into a trembling, nervous pout:
-Why did you do it, Prowl?
Prowl felt his own expression drop. He wasn't prepared for this. He wasn't sure he could handle it.
Again he looked away, his body sending him new notifications, his HUD telling him to back off and take cover.
-... I...
He was surprised by the way his voice came out, so hesitant. He wasn't supposed to be hesitant!
He switched off his optics, took a deep breath. What could he say, frankly...?
-I wasn't thinking.
The last straw for him, who thought too much every day.
He turned his optics back on and looked feverishly at Jazz.
-If he'd been wounded, it would have impacted you.
Jazz's visor lit up slightly, a sign of surprise. Then, past the surprise, Prowl felt Jazz's field manifest itself. A field filled with pleasant surprise, gentle concern and deep gratitude.
Jazz crossed the last few inches separating them and took him in his arms, careful of his door wings.
Prowl stifled a surprised gasp.
Jazz's voice was only a whisper near his hearing receptor:
-Thank you, Prowler...
Prowl pursed his lips in a thin line. Then he responded to the embrace shyly, putting his arms around the other mecha.
Chapter 2: Does it 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 matter?
Notes:
Thanks to those who left comments on the first chapter! I didn't get a chance to reply, but it was great to read your feedback.
I hope you enjoy this one too!Feel free to take a look at my bluesky if you'd like to see the illustration linked to this chapter :)
Chapter Text
Sneaking out of the Ark was easy.
Jazz certainly was a master of improvisation, and this wasn't the first time he'd slipped past Red Alert's constant surveillance. He knew the spaceship's intricacies by heart. How did the cameras move? Which corridors were preferable? Which dark areas to take advantage of, which ventilation shafts to slip into and which to exit?
Jazz had played this game countless times, and was a natural at it.
No one noticed his little excursion. Anyway, he already had plenty of excuses to give if his absence was noticed. After all, everyone got accustomed to it after a while. It was common for Jazz to disappear on solo missions overnight, only to return after an indeterminate amount of time.
Only this time, it wasn't a mission that was driving him out. Or at least, it wasn't a mission for the Autobots. It was much more personal.
Driving for a while, he arrived at a beach. It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky. It wasn't difficult to see the environment; the moon was bright, illuminating the landscape with a lovely white glow.
Soundwave was already there, sitting close to the water without touching it.
Jazz abandoned his vehicle mode before sinking too deep into the sand, and quietly moved forward, coming to a halt beside the other mecha.
They didn't look at each other immediately, taking the time to observe the horizon and enjoy the sound of the waves. This was one of the things they had in common: Earth was beautiful, full of pleasant surprises. It was organic, alive, very different from Cybertron.
They missed Cybertron. But Earth had this crazy charm that allowed them to put their homesickness aside, at least for a short while.
-How's it goin', mech? Not too bad?~
Jazz's teasing tone hid a deep-seated concern in his spark. He hadn't been able to check on Soundwave's health in the last few days. They were both careful, they couldn't simply contact or see each other as they pleased, without risking being caught out.
-Soundwave: operational.
Clear and concise. Soundwave was straight to the point.
Jazz smiled. This kind of attitude reminded him of Prowl.
He still let his gaze linger on the Decepticon. The visor was convenient at times like this, allowing him to dissimulate the concern evident in his optics, as well as the way he could inspect the other mecha.
Soundwave's shoulder seemed to be getting better. The recent welds were visible, the only sign that he'd been injured. Otherwise, the Decepticon seemed to be doing as well as ever.
This didn't stop Jazz from sitting down next to him, then taking an energon cube out of his subspace and handing it to the tallest.
Soundwave glanced at the cube, and took it, not without shrugging an optic behind his own visor:
-Question: What is it?
-Medical energon.
-Soundwave: does not require medical energon.
Jazz chuckled and nudged him:
-What, are you afraid of the evil medicine?~ I didn't know you were a sparkler!
Soundwave became immediately annoyed, grumbling at the remark:
-Jazz: little provocative idiot.
Jazz laughed. Soundwave rolled his eyes and retracted his mask to take a drink.
-Maybe I'm being provocative, but it actually works.
Jazz teased, and in response he took a slap on the back of his helmet.
-Hey! he pretended to be outraged, but was betrayed by his amused little smile.
Soundwave simply finished the whole cube in a single gulp before handing it back. Jazz pressed his arm against the Decepticon's.
-By the way, I also brought something for the little ones.
Soundwave looked at him, intrigued. Jazz returned to rummaging in his subspace, this time to pull out a box, which he opened to reveal a bunch of energetic candies.
Soundwave sighed:
-Jazz: give them too much.
-Man, I'm a cool mech, that's what I am!
The Decepticon would have retorted, but he could already feel his tapes rattling in his frame. Not only that, but they were flooding their links with requests to leave. His cassettes had their audios wide open and had obviously heard Jazz.
This provoked another sigh from Soundwave, who opened his frame, ejecting Frenzy, Rumble and Ratbat. The others had stayed behind at Nemesis, not only to cover Soundwave's absence, but also because the carrier was careful to vary the cassettes he took with him.
It didn't take another minute for Ratbat to jump on the box and fly off with it, immediately raising the screams of the twins, who began to chase him down the beach.
Jazz and Soundwave watched, Soundwave on the verge of a facepalm as Jazz giggled:
-I sometimes forget that they're adults~
Soundwave looks at his cassettes with a look both weary and tender:
-Soundwave: likewise.
Rumble succeeded in catching Ratbat, and was now trying to eat all the sweets for him. However, Frenzy rushed in to take it away from him, and Ratbat came charging in once more.
Soundwave was already guessing that he was going to have to give them a good wash when he got home, with all the sand that was going to get stuck in their articulations.
Soundwave turned his attention away from the tapes and back to Jazz, whose visor had darkened, a sign that he had closed his eyes, probably to enjoy the bickering of the tapes as they mingled with the sound of the waves.
-Why: autobot Prowl, helping Soundwave?
This immediately caught Jazz's attention, as demonstrated by his visor lighting up again.
-... Who knows.
-Jazz: didn't ask Autobot Prowl?
Jazz gave him a malicious smile:
-Who knows~
Soundwave squinted again, annoyed:
-Jazz: unbearable when he does that.
-When I do what?
Soundwave rolled his eyes:
-When Jazz: plays dumb.
-Awn, but you love it when I do that!
-Response: negative.
Jazz chuckled, resting his head against his shoulder:
-Go ahead, try to convince yourself.
-Reiterating the question: why did Autobot Prowl help Soundwave?
This time, Jazz didn't answer immediately. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders:
-Does it really matter?
-Answer: it does.
-Why is it important?
Soundwave frowned:
-Autobot Prowl: knowing about our relationship? Autobot Prowl: blackmail Jazz?
-What? Wow, mech, no!
Jazz stepped aside, raising his hands:
-Not at all! Prowl's cool, that's all. He's not blackmailing me.
-Soundwave: Not so sure.
-You think I'd let someone blackmail me like that?
Soundwave stared at him in silence. Jazz shook his head to indicate that he was rolling his eyes:
-Thank you for your trust.
Jazz stood up and stretched:
-Don't worry about it Sound. You're fine, I'm fine. He turned his gaze to the tapes, which had stopped fighting and were finally sharing the sweets more quietly. Your little ones are fine. Let's enjoy this while it lasts.
Soundwave still wasn't convinced. Jazz guessed and looked at him...before smiling again, and returning to sit, but this time on his lap, before embracing his neck:
-And I've got a few ideas to enjoy!
Soundwave pouted at first, but when Jazz kissed the corner of his lips, he found it hard to remain impassive.
He sighed:
-Jazz: irredeemable.
-Oh, what, just because I want kisses?
-Cassettes: complaining again.
-Well, cassettes don't have to watch~
Jazz didn't wait for Soundwave to retort, and came to kiss him, this time directly against his lips.
During the following days, the Autobots took time to recover from the battle. There had been many people injured, but fortunately nothing too severe.
Prowl was busy with paperwork, which was no different from usual. There were always reports to fill in, administration to do, not to mention tactics to put in place against the Decepticons.
The only thing a little different was Jazz.
Prowl was in his office, staring at a datapad. He hadn't left the room all day, even forgetting his lunch break, and fatigue was clearly taking its toll. He couldn't even process what he was reading.
He sighed and massaged his temples. He turned his optics back on, and gasped, almost screaming, as he realized that a mecha was sitting right in front of him: Jazz.
-Hi Prowl~
The head of Special Operations stood quietly, slumped in the chair, with that little teasing smile on his lips.
Prowl must reset its vocalizer before speaking:
-J-Jazz? What are you doing here?
Jazz almost laughed, and opened his subspace to take out an energon cube, which he placed on the desk.
-Nobody saw you today, and I heard Ratchet whispering about what he'd do to you if he found out you hadn't taken a break. So I thought I'd bring you something to perk you up~
Prowl blinked. He looked at Jazz, then at the energon cube, then at Jazz.
-... Thanks ?
It wasn't the first time Jazz had been kind enough to bring him an energon cube. Prowl was a workaholic, and Jazz was probably the only mecha who gave a damn about the tactician according to Prowl.
But the fact that he's bringing him one now, considering their conversation a few days ago...
Prowl sighed:
-You don't have to buy my silence, you know? And before Jazz could retort, he added. Or pay me back for anything. Really.
The last thing he wanted was that the sympathy between him and Jazz become some kind of silent contract. He really didn't want that. If he was helping Jazz, it was because he cared about him, not because he expected something in return.
Jazz lost his smile, and Prowl feared for a moment that he had offended him. But Jazz finally shook his head:
-Prowler, I know all that. And, uh... Okay, yeah, I feel thankful. But I'm also worried that I didn't see you outside today.
Jazz smiled again, a little shyly:
-You're the kind of guy who pushes himself too hard. I'd appreciate if you didn't short-circuit again like last time.
-That only happened once! Prowl flushed with embarrassment.
-Well, as Ratch would say, 'that's one time too many'!
Prowl grumbled, passing a hand over his face as Jazz's smile deepened:
-Come on mech, don't be picky. I promise I didn't poison it!
-Alright, alright...
Prowl hadn't once doubted Jazz on the subject. It was almost frightening how much he trusted him. Prowl's internal program tended to send him plenty of emergency notifications to tell him to beware, that Jazz was a threat. But he didn't listen; he hadn't listened for a long time when it came to the mecha with the visor...
Prowl took the cube and took a sip. Immediately, his energy gauge increased, and his internal engine hummed with satisfaction. Okay...he was actually really hungry.
Before he really realized it, he'd already gobbled up half the cube, under Jazz's watchful eye.
-There, satisfied? Prowl grumbled, a little sulkily, which drew a laugh from Jazz.
-Very good! Come on, you've got to finish-
-Seriously...
Prowl sighed, but even if he looked at his energon cube, he didn't finish it right away. In fact, now that he'd fed a little, he could just feel the fatigue catching up with him even harder. His program sent him an alert to recharge.
Ah... If only he could just give up his work like that and sleep without worrying about a thing.
-...Jazz?
Prowl asked softly, continuing to stare at the energon in his hands.
Jazz inclined his head, never taking his eyes off him:
-Mm...?
-... What's going on with you and Soundwave?
Jazz's body tensed imperceptibly. Even his field, which he had begun to let stretch out, which was sympathetic and gentle, had a slight hitch of anguish.
Prowl almost winced as he worried he'd made another mistake, but he didn't revisit the issue. He looked up at Jazz, hoping not to appear too judgmental.
Jazz stared at him through his visor, seeming to evaluate him. Then he looked to the side, gave a thoughtful 'mm', and finally shrugged:
-At first, it was just a rivalry.
Jazz looked at the desk, against which he let his fingers tap in a slow rhythm:
-He was an enemy, but he always intrigued me. No matter the terrain, we always fought as equals. I liked that.
He hesitated, then looked up at Prowl, and gave that clumsy little smile. That irresistible little smile that Prowl couldn't resist:
-One day we randomly bumped into each other off the battlefield. It was just us. We didn't have the strength to fight.
It hadn't been mentioned anywhere, and Prowl wasn't even surprised. Jazz could be very secret, especially if it concerned this... forbidden relationship.
Jazz tried to look calm, but he was nervous, his field had tightened around him, avoiding Prowl, afraid of betraying feelings he shouldn't have.
-I talked to Sound for a while. He was really... well... Really nice, for a Decepticon. We saw each other a few times after that. We still see each other.
Prowl listened in respectful silence, keeping his own field well restricted. He felt his spark flutter painfully as he heard Jazz, as he saw him with that tenderness on his face.
Jazz bit his lip, very quickly, a tic betraying his anguish, before he confessed as flatly as he could:
-We kissed.
Prowl managed to keep his door flaps from reacting. Instead of becoming outraged, he asked in a voice that was almost too calm:
-But he has a mask.
Jazz laughed, both sincerely and very nervously:
-Prowl, mech, you know some masks retract, right? Just because guys like Optimus or Wheeljack don't retract theirs doesn't mean there's nothing below!
Prowl squinted, vexed:
-Well, thanks, I know! But Soundwave could have been one of those with nothing underneath!
-Well, I assure you it has a face, and this bastard is gorgeous~
Prowl took another sip of Energon to regain his composure. He'd questioned Jazz, and now he had to take responsibility for the answers he didn't like.
Damn.
Prowl tried to push his emotions under a heavy dose of programs and firewalls:
-... So... You and Soundwave are something.
-Mm, how's that?
-Don't play dumb, Jazz. Are you two dating?
Jazz stayed silent. Just long enough to rub the back of his neck, swaying a little in the chair:
-I don't know.
-... You don't know?
-We haven't discussed it. We talk music, we talk about Earth, we kiss... But we're at war, and we know that one of us could be killed on the battlefield. Even without that... We know that if one of the two sides wins, we won't be able to be together.
There was a 50% chance that the pain Prowl felt in his spark was due to jealousy, as he realized once again how hard Jazz seemed to have fallen for Soundwave...And there was a 50% chance that this pain was due to seeing Jazz so sad about his situation, so desperate that his feelings couldn't be resolved.
Prowl put down his cube, and reached out to lightly brush Jazz's hand on the desk.
-... Do you like him?
Jazz glanced at their hands. Shyly, he interlaced their fingers, but no longer dared to look Prowl in the eye as he replied:
-... too much...
Prowl swallowed. He squeezed their hands a little tighter, hoping this would comfort his comrade.
Prowl finally asked:
-... I suppose he doesn't want to change sides?
-He's loyal to Megatron and his values.
-...and you...?
Jazz laughed bitterly:
-That's a real question, Mech?
Jazz looked up:
-I'm loyal to OP and his values.
They looked at each other in tense silence.
Prowl didn't know what to say to comfort him. He'd never been good at comforting others. But at least he could try to convey what he sincerely thought and felt:
-I'm here for you Jazz. he risked extending his field, trying to convey his emotions, to make Jazz understand that he had his back and that he could count on him. If you need anything...I'm here.
Jazz's smile wavered a little, as if he might have started crying. But he didn't.
-Thanks, Prowler.
It was Jazz who broke the contact, who pulled their hand away as he stood up.
-Well! he exclaimed to motivate himself. I still have things to do, and so do you... I'd better be off.
-Ah, right...? Prowl found it hard to hide the fact that this sudden change of attitude had disorientated him.
Jazz flashed his visor only halfway, miming a wink:
-See you at breakfast tomorrow? If Ratch catches you here again, you're going to get a lecture and a forced vacation!
Prowl grimaced and sighed:
-Don't talk about misfortune. I'll finish my file and be off.
-Great, see you tomorrow Mech!
Jazz headed for the door, a little hastily.
-See you tomorrow, Jazz.
Prowl hated the way his voice sounded, almost as if he were disappointed. Jazz stopped in the doorway to look at him.
He wasn't smiling. He looked worried, a little melancholy:
-... Yeah. See you tomorrow.
Jazz finally left the office and Prowl found himself alone again.
And his spark continued to crackle painfully.
Chapter 3: Keeping c̲o̲n̲t̲r̲o̲l̲
Notes:
Thank you for your feedbacks, I'm glad to see that the fanfic seems to please for now!
As usual, my English isn't perfect, so don't hesitate to let me know if there are any misunderstandings.
I'm also open to suggestions for the pagination! For the moment I'm having fun with bolding, italics and line-out, but I'm thinking of using css soon.
I'm also thinking of adding chapter titles, to make it easier to find your way around. Don't be surprised if they suddenly appear over the weeks xDEnjoy your reading!
Chapter Text
Prowl had finally taken Jazz's advice and set off to recharge before Ratchet caught him. However, he didn't have time to reach the next day. Not without being awakened in the middle of the night, dragged from his slumber by a notification on his HUD.
Prowl, a little stunned, sat up as all his systems came back online. His room was still plunged in darkness, and a quick glance at the clock told him that dawn was still a long way off.
Yet he did have a message waiting. Someone was trying to contact him.
Perplexed, Prowl didn't recognize the contact. It was anonymous, and since he already had all the Autobots' contacts...
He checked his firewalls, just to be sure that no hack could be performed remotely, and opened the connection:
-[:: May I help you ? ::]
He immediately received an answer :
-[:: Request: meeting with Autobot Prowl ::]
Prowl frowned. The voice was encrypted, but the manner of speaking left no doubt as to the identity of the recipient.
-[:: Why such a request? ::]
Prowl questioned, perplexed. How could he not be? He might have helped Soundwave, and maybe Jazz had a relationship with the Decepticon, but he was still the enemy. The possibility of him being trapped was high at 70%.
-[:: Soundwave: need to talk with Autobot Prowl ::]
Prowl pursed his lips.
Soundwave continued:
-[:: Discussion request: quick. Possibility to meet: near the arch. If it reassures Autobot Prowl ::]
Prowl wanted to refuse. It was risky. If it wasn't a trap, there was still a 30% chance of other Autobots spotting them.
However, he wondered why Soundwave wanted to talk to him. Was it about the last battle, or about Jazz?
Prowl left his bed:
-[:: Well. I can come now ::]
Soundwave sent him some coordinates before adding:
-[::Soundwave : thank you ::]
Prowl was already regretting this choice...
Prowl had no trouble getting out of the Ark without arousing suspicion. He knew everyone's schedule for the night, how the guard shifts would work, and therefore the few minutes when there would be no one on camera and no one guarding the ship's entrance.
He knew 99% that Red Alert, paranoid as he was, would review the tapes at some point and suspect something, but hey, Prowl would have time to come up with an excuse by then.
He managed to leave the Ark unseen and headed for the coordinates indicated by Soundwave.
It was further into the desert, and when Prowl arrived, he found the Decepticon hidden among rock formations.
Soundwave was sitting on a rock, waiting for him. Ravage was out, and the panther was lying on the Decepticon's knees, having his head gently stroked.
When Prowl appeared in their vision, Ravage gave him a lazy glance and grumbled a little, without straightening up or trying to attack him.
Soundwave turned his head, the only indication that he was looking at Prowl, and the two mechas exchanged a silent glance.
Prowl dared to come a little closer. He didn't sit down, but stood at a slight distance and crossed his arms.
-What do you want?
Prowl could feel Soundwave scrutinizing him, without being able to guess what he might be feeling or thinking. At least Jazz had his mouth visible, which helped a little in guessing emotions, no matter how small. With Soundwave and his mask, it was immediately more complicated.
Shit, Jazz had told him Soundwave was handsome, and now that Prowl remembered that info, curiosity made him stare at the mask.
Then he shook his head. No, Prowl, you weren't there to try and see Soundwave's face. Handsome or not, he was an enemy!
-Autobot Prowl: straight to the point.
Prowl squinted:
-You said it would be quick. We can be surprised at any time, so make it fast.
Soundwave nodded and looked at Ravage. The panther looked back at him, and Prowl guessed that they must be exchanging private communications. Ravage stood up and stretched, yawned, then jumped up and turned back into a cassette, falling back into the Decepticon's frame.
Now one-on-one with Prowl, Soundwave stood up and moved closer to the Autobot.
Prowl already knew he was smaller than the other mecha, but being this close without any other distraction only highlighted their size differences.
-Request: why did Prowl help Soundwave?
Prowl had expected this question, it had a 90% chance of being asked, but that didn't stop him from containing a grimace. Seriously, didn't he and Jazz have an encrypted communication where they could talk about this together?
In fact, that's exactly what Prowl replied:
-I've already answered Jazz, ask him.
Soundwave was silent, but just tilted his head slightly, and coming from any other mecha, Prowl would have thought there was curiosity or perplexity. But this was Soundwave, and he found it hard to put any emotion into it.
-Interaction with Jazz: limited. Varying interlocutors: recommended.
Prowl found it hard to hide his dismay:
-On the contrary, multiplying your contacts increases the risk of being caught. How sure are you that I won't set you up or turn you in?
-Autobot Prowl: not so devious.
Not so devious? This time, Prowl was 100% certain that Soundwave was mocking him. Wasn't he supposed to be the most knowledgeable Decepticon? Or was Soundwave underestimating him because he was an Autobot? Yet, with all the strategies Prowl had been able to put in place over the centuries, it seemed obvious to him that Soundwave knew how dangerous he was.
The conclusion was that Soundwave had to play on psychological manipulation, making Prowl believe he was underestimating him to make him lower his guard.
Soundwave leaned over him, bringing his face close to his. The proximity allowed Prowl to make out the shape of Soundwave's optics behind his visor.
-Moreover: Prowl is too attached to Jazz to sabotage Soundwave.
Prowl didn't immediately realize that he'd been holding his breath. He wasn't easily intimidated, but right now, Soundwave seemed able to read through him with far too much ease. Had Jazz told him something?
Prowl's processor began to spin rapidly, as he weighed up all the possibilities to which this discussion could lead.
-I don't see how you can rely on such a statement. And even if you did, do you think you're in a position to threaten me?
Soundwave shook his head:
-Answer: negative. Soundwave doesn't threaten. Prowl's conclusion: incorrect.
Prowl flinched:
-So why are you...
-Soundwave: thank Prowl.
Prowl clearly couldn't hide his stupor this time. He widened his eyes, wondering if he'd heard correctly:
-.... What?
-Soundwave: thank Prowl.
Soundwave simply repeated, then straightened up:
-Soundwave: to owe Prowl a debt. Prowl: to be able to make any request.
Prowl remained stupidly silent, his mouth open. What was it? Of all the possibilities he could think of, this was clearly not one of them. In any case, it was very low on the list, amounting to only what... . 2% ?
He quickly pulled himself together, he shouldn't let his chance slip away:
-Any request?
-But: Soundwave limited. Betrayal of the Decepticons: refused.
Obviously, that would have been too good. But even without that... It was still a great opportunity to owe Soundwave a debt.
Prowl took his chin and thought again, going over everything he could ask for. But it was all so sudden...
-I'd think about it.
-Debt: unlimited duration. Prowl: don't put pressure on yourself.
-I don't put pressure on myself!
-Jazz: to say the opposite.
Prowl's vocalizer clicked a little, before he reached out and... Oh, by Primus, may he not blush with embarrassment!
-Jazz says a lot of stupid things.
-Jazz: seems to know Prowl well enough.
-He likes to think so.
-Jazz: master spy. Very observant.
Prowl frowned a little, feeling ever more embarrassed to be talking about this, and especially to know that Jazz was talking about him...?
-Well, Jazz should learn to mind his own business.
-Yet : Prowl was minding Jazz and Soundwave's business.
Prowl's body froze, but his door wings straightened.
Once again, Soundwave gave him no time to reply:
-Prowl: also very observant.
Prowl would have responded with a sarcastic 'I'm a tactician' as if that justified anything, but he swallowed his words as he watched Soundwave return to lean over him, almost too close, his mask almost brushing Prowl's lips.
This time, Prowl thought he detected a hint of hesitation in Soundwave's voice, when he asked:
-Prowl: have feelings for Jazz?
Prowl didn't reply. He just stood there, staring at the red visor, trying to get a clear view of the other mecha's optics.
He felt an unpleasant sensation of static electricity all along his armor. His Spark crackled, sending pulses that were almost painful, but he ignored it. He forced his program to bury it as far as possible. He had to remain calm, in control of himself.
Faced with his lack of response, and the silence that stretched on, Soundwave finally straightened up.
Prowl didn't know whether the other mecha was... Disappointed, or not, by this exchange.
-Prowl: need one last thing?
-.... No. Prowl managed to answer in an almost normal voice.
Soundwave nodded.
-Soundwave: will take leave. Meeting: pleasant.
Prowl didn't move at all this time, nothing betraying how taken aback he was once again. Pleasant? Soundwave had enjoyed meeting him?
It was lunar.
Soundwave didn't lose himself in a farewell ceremony, and simply turned, before flying off into the distance with innate discretion.
Prowl followed him with his eyes until he was no more than a speck on the horizon. Then he turned and walked back to the Ark.
He felt elsewhere. His legs felt heavy.
He wasn't sure how to take this encounter. What to make of it.
Technically, the balance was good: Soundwave owed him a debt. He could use it to his advantage for a future battle, a means of ensuring victory for the Autobots.
-Prowl: have feelings for Jazz?-
Prowl almost stumbled. He had to take a breath, tried to erase from his memory this question too.... too much.
Jazz and Soundwave had a forbidden relationship. Prowl was a colleague of Jazz's and worried about the Autobot cause.
There was nothing more to it. Just concern for a colleague, and for the course of the war.
There was nothing more.
There could be no more.
Prowl reached the Ark and entered as if everything were normal. He automatically greeted Hound and Cliffjumper, who were on guard at the entrance. They both gave him a surprised look, but soon greeted him back, in the end not so surprised by his presence.
Prowl was known to work overtime, whether in his office or on rounds.
The journey back to his quarters was made in a light mist, with Prowl fighting his invasive thoughts.
But when he entered his room and the door locked behind him, this time he was out of sight... He let himself slide against the wall, feeling all his strength leave him.
And Soundwave's voice rang out again.
-Prowl: have feelings for Jazz?-
Prowl ran a hand over his face. He realized he was shaking.
He closed his eyes, resetting his vocalizer, as well as his optics and his solvent gauge, which was just waiting to overflow and spill treacherous tears.
He was no longer a twinkling youth. He was an adult, the tactician-in-chief. The Autobots counted on him. Optimus counted on him.
...
Jazz counted on him.
-... Damn...
He bit back a lump in his throat.
-... What are you doing...?
And he wasn't sure whether he was asking the question for himself, or for Jazz.
When Soundwave returned to Nemesis, there was no one to surprise him. Just as he had expected.
Prowl wasn't the only one familiar with his army's schedule. Soundwave was literally the Decepticons' eyes and ears. Nothing escaped his control.
Nothing except Megatron.
-Soundwave.
Soundwave didn't let his body react. Ever. He would have had to be in a state of extreme weakness to show the slightest hesitation on his part, especially in front of his lord.
As it was, Soundwave was fine, and absolutely nothing in his body language or magnetic field betrayed anything.
He simply turned to Megatron, as if it were perfectly normal for the great leader to be hidden in the shadows of the corridor, staring at him through his sharp red optics.
-Yes, Lord Megatron?
Even his voice was completely unchanged. As if Soundwave hadn't just returned from an impromptu evening stroll that he hadn't told anyone about.
Megatron emerged from the darkness and slowly approached him. His lord was tall, sturdy and charismatic. His heavy footsteps fell to the ground with a force and rhythm calculated to make a noise thick and oppressive enough.
Soundwave didn't back down. Not even when Megatron stopped right in front of him and towered over him. His voice was calm as he spoke, as calm as a predator could be in front of its prey, focused and cold-blooded, ready to pounce and slash at any opportunity:
-What have you been doing out there, my loyal second-in-command?
If the words were flattering, the tone wasn't. Megatron knew that vain flattery didn't work on Soundwave. It worked on fools like Starscream.
Soundwave held his gaze with a much more serene calm, devoid of reproach:
-Soundwave: get an opening to weaken the Autobots.
Megatron merely raised an optic, awaiting further explanation.
-Soundwave: had a meeting with Autobot Prowl. Result: increased confidence and perhaps a brief sympathy.
Megatron's optics continued to study him in silence. Silence was always an invitation to speak.
Soundwave continued:
-Autobot Prowl: saved Soundwave during the last battle. Soundwave: detect weakness in tactician. Possibility of persuading him to join our side.
And this time, Soundwave got a little grin from his lord. The kind of grin that worked much better than the flattery on him, that made him feel he'd done a good job.
Megatron placed his hand heavily on Soundwave's shoulder, in a gesture of congratulation:
-Perfect. He's one of Prime's best elements. Bringing him on board will turn the situation completely to our advantage.
-Soundwave: still need to work on this plan.
-Of course. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you.
-Soundwave: need to gain more of Prowl's trust. Is it possible to make other meetings in the future?
-Granted, as long as you give me detailed reports.
-Affirmative, Lord Megatron.
Nevertheless, the grip on his shoulder tightened, and Soundwave barely held back a shiver of apprehension as his superior leaned over him, to whisper in a husky voice to his ear canal:
-I appreciate your initiatives, Soundwave. But the next time you do something behind my back, it won't be without consequences. Is that clear?
-Yes, Lord Megatron.
Megatron got to his feet just as slowly, and with the same slowness, he withdrew his hand, gave Soundwave one last smile-full of menace-before turning away and heading back to his own quarters.
Soundwave let him go, refusing to pay any attention to his Spark, which was beating a little faster.
He could be as impassive as he liked, as devoted to Megatron as he was, but it didn't change the fact that he was just another robot. And a robot in his right mind knew that Megatron was to be feared.
Soundwave headed for his own quarters, thinking back over the evening.
He thought back to Prowl, who tried in vain to be stoic but who was finally so expressive. Rumors that he was emotionless were unfounded: Prowl was clearly a sensitive mecha. Sensitive enough to save a friend's lover, even if the lover was an enemy.
Soundwave hadn't lied to Prowl: he was definitely indebted to him. But...he wasn't going to leave it at that.
Jazz had already told him about Prowl. Jazz cared about Prowl. Soundwave didn't know exactly how much, but the two were close.
And Soundwave loved Jazz. He wanted Jazz by his side. He wanted him as a Decepticon, triumphant over the Prime and its subordinates.
Getting close to Prowl was the first step. Convincing him to join the Decepticons was another. And once he'd convinced Prowl, he'd use it to convince Jazz to join them too.
Soundwave held all the right cards, it was just a question of playing them properly.
Chapter 4: The benefits of ̶a̶c̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶ smiling
Notes:
Another new chapter that I hope you'll enjoy!
Thank you for taking the time to read this far. As you can imagine, it's quite a lot of work to have to write, correct, translate and do the illustrations. But I'm having a lot of fun doing it, and I hope you're having just as much fun discovering this story!
Thanks also to those who take the time to leave kudos, and those who leave me reviews! You don't have to, but it's so cool to get your feedback!
Enjoy reading this chapter :D
Chapter Text
Jazz had an internal alarm clock, like most of the 'bots on the Ark. This allowed him to wake up on time, and the officer was always careful to wake up at the same time every day, no matter the night he spent.
For once, the night hadn't been so bad. If you put aside many of the personal anxieties he was repressing and hiding under numerous programs, the night had actually been rather peaceful. No last-minute alerts, unforeseen missions or other hazards that might have caused him to pull an all-nighter.
Jazz walked around his quarters anyway, to carry out a few checks. You never knew, maybe someone had broken in without waking him up - considering how light a sleeper Jazz was, it was unlikely, but you never knew. Or even! Someone might have had the skills to deactivate his personal protections - he'd installed motion detectors and traps to catch even the slightest intruder himself-.
But there was nothing to report. Everything was in place, which calmed his paranoia just a little, and he was finally able to leave his quarters and make his way peacefully to the refectory.
He hadn't forgot that he and Prowl were supposed to meet for breakfast. Although he already suspected that the tactician wouldn't remember.
Prowl had this tendency to put work before everything else - which was ironic coming from Jazz, since he did the same thing- and if it was regular for him to forget to take breaks to refuel, it was just as regular for him to forget social events, like a date with a friend -in this case, with Jazz.
Jazz wasn't surprised to arrive at the refectory and find it almost empty. At this hour, that was to be expected. He didn't send a message to Prowl either, simply glancing at the surveillance video from his HUD to see that the tactician was already in his office.
Amused that he'd been right, Jazz approached the distributor and served two cubes.
Although he seemed to be concentrating on his task, he soon made out another presence in the room, and the heavy, lively step that approached him was pleasantly familiar.
So Jazz wasn't surprised when Blaster put an arm around his shoulders, and greeted him with a big smile:
-Hey, Jazz, my mech!
Jazz returned the smile, his spark lighting up at the sight of his best friend.
-Hey Blast'!
He placed the two cubes in his sub-space and exchanged a high five with the larger one.
Blaster hadn't missed the cubes and laughed:
-Well, he teased. Taking Prowl's ration again?
-What do you expect? He'd be lost without me!
-The perfect excuse~
Blaster liked to tease him. He always had a good opportunity to make fun of him, and the favorite subject was obviously his friendship with Prowl, which wasn't something everyone agreed on.
Let's just say that many of them wondered why Jazz hung out with the tactician occasionally, why he liked to intrude on his business and annoy him. Jazz was already well aware of the rumors going around: that he, Jazz, had a crush on Prowl, but that Prowl was a sentimentless drone who could never offer him a proper relationship.
Bullshit, of course. Prowl was unsociable, but that didn't mean he didn't feel something, and Jazz had proof of that recently, even if he couldn't tell anyone. As for this crush story... Jazz could only ignore it, because he knew his teammates: if he denied it, it would only fuel the rumors even more, and he couldn't just tell everyone he was flirting with a decepticon.
Blaster, far from suspecting his thoughts, continued with his teasing:
-I'm going to end up jealous, you know! I think you spend more time with him than with me!
-Awwn, don't say that Blast', you know you're irreplaceable!
However, Jazz hesitated. He may have presented himself as a sociable, available robot, but it was true that he was still a busy man. Very busy. Much busier than anyone could imagine.
He liked to say he was the king of improvisation, and it was true! But he also hid from everyone how much of what he did was calculated. Every move, every interaction...
Had he neglected Blaster?
His friend was the communications chief, he had audios everywhere, even if he was nowhere near the paranoia of Red Alert or Jazz himself. Perhaps, deep down, there was a fragment of anxiety in Jazz, a fragment that drove him to keep Blaster at a distance, afraid that he might discover certain delicate secrets.
Jazz kept his façade of a smile, but his tone became a little softer:
-... Um, you're joking, right?
Blaster looked genuinely surprised, but quickly tapped him on the shoulder with a laugh:
-Well, it's not your style to have doubts about things like that! Of course I'm joking, you can hang out with anyone you like, even a tactician colder than ice.
-Hey, Prowl's not that cold.
-Only you would say that, mech' ~
Blaster released him to take a cube for himself:
-But go ahead, I'm waiting for your proof!
-What, you're waiting for a screen shot of Prowl smiling?~
-Oh my God, because he knows how to smile?
Jazz rolled his eyes behind his visor, amused:
-You're such an idiot, my bot.
-Takes one to know one
-Maturity at its best~
Blaster chuckled, retrieving his cube before walking away, followed by Jazz. They left the refectory together, but since they were going in opposite directions, they slapped their arms together with a smile before Blaster headed for the surveillance room:
-Come on, hurry up and join your knight in shining armor, before he decides to serve himself!
Jazz chuckled:
-He won't, and you know it!
He followed his friend with his eyes until he had disappeared down another corridor, then set off himself in the direction of Prowl's office.
On the way, he obviously came across other mechas, and it was easy for Jazz to smile, exchange jokes, checks, even a few winks.
No wonder he's one of the most popular officers here.
If you took the whole High Command as a whole, he and Blaster were the only ones so outgoing and friendly, they had the best reputation on the Ark.
Red Alert never left his cameras unless he had to, and he was far too honest to keep secrets. The other 'bots generally avoided him for fear of what he might reveal about them.
Ironhide was gruff and hot-tempered, and didn't hesitate to bring down punishment on those who might screw up. It was generally best not to say in front of him that you were 'tired' or 'had nothing to do', as he would immediately find a task to assign you.
Ratchet had the reputation of being a strict and terrifying medic, getting angry when people came to see him and throwing wrenches at the heads of the injured.
Wheeljack rarely left his laboratory, never took part in social events and was notorious for his experiments, which regularly went wrong.
And then there was Prowl, who was a perfect blend of all of the above: known for being strict and scary, for making serious decisions without an ounce of hesitation, who didn't socialize with anyone unless he had to, who didn't leave his desk unless work demanded it.
So yes, Jazz and Blaster were indeed the officers with the best reputations, only because they were the most social: always talking to others, attending parties or organizing them themselves. The fact that they were best friends only strengthened their duo's image, and Jazz felt bad seeing Blaster as a tool to improve his image.
Even Optimus didn't have as good a reputation as they did.
Yet he was a good listener, patient, kind. He was a role model for them all.
But OP was literally... Like...
Optimus.
The Prime.
You don't propose to the Prime to check yourself out and go get drunk.
Except when you're Jazz, of course.
Jazz knew the members of the High Command almost like the back of his hand, and although he knew where everyone's reputation came from, he was also the first to know that you shouldn't stop at appearances.
For example, he was the only one to know that Optimus wasn't holding the engex. In fact, he was the only person on the Ark who had ever drunk engex with the Prime. But it wasn't as if he could reveal that kind of information just like that. Firstly, because he didn't want to start any unnecessary rumors, and secondly, because he respected Optimus: it was up to him whether or not to reveal such things.
Another example: Prowl.
The so-called rumors that Prowl was a drone, that he had no feelings, that he didn't care about the welfare of the Autobots but only about winning....
Rumors have never been so wrong.
Jazz arrived at Prowl's office and didn't bother to knock, as usual. In any case, the door was unlocked since the tactician was on shift, so Jazz had no trouble barging in with his big, cheerful smile:
-Hey, Prowler!
Jazz exclaimed cheerfully, as he did every time he barged in without warning.
For the first time, he saw Prowl gasp.
Really gasp.
Prowl, who was a master at maintaining his composure, had just jumped up from his chair and was staring at him with wide eyes, as if he'd just been caught in the act of... Of what?
Jazz pretended not to notice, even though behind his visor, his optics were analyzing everything. There was nothing suspicious. Prowl was just sitting at his desk, as usual. There was a datapad on the table, and it took Jazz only a microsecond to zoom in on the document, analyze it, understand that it was a simple report on their energy reserves, so everything was normal once again.
-I brought you a drink!
Jazz moved closer to the desk, as if he hadn't just 'caught' Prowl deep in thought. However, all his senses were activated. He was analyzing, overanalyzing, everything now.
-Ah, thanks Jazz...
Prowl grumbled as he tried to restore his self-control, straightening his door leaves, unaware that Jazz had already notified him of this detail, just as he had noticed that Prowl's expression was deceptively neutral, with the corner of his mouth twitching slightly nervously.
Jazz dropped into the chair in front of the desk and swayed nonchalantly on it, crossing his legs:
-So, well recharged last night?
Prowl took his own glass of Energon, as normally as possible, and perhaps Jazz would have seen nothing of it if he hadn't activated all his analysis protocols.
Prowl's hand, his fingers anyway, trembled just a little, from nervousness.
-Yes. I took your advice and went to bed before Ratchet caught me.
-Ah, wise decision Mech! It would be silly to put him in a bad mood early in the morning~.
-When isn't he?
Jazz chuckled:
-Oh, you're exaggerating~
-Barely, Prowl took a sip of his cube, but I don't blame him, given the reckless behavior of many of our soldiers, I can understand why he's constantly on edge.
Jazz never took his eyes off him, a smug smile on his lips:
-'Reckless', eh?~
Prowl only took another long sip, as if aware of the irony.
Jazz quietly put down his own cube, still staring at him.
Prowl took ANOTHER prolonged sip, finally finishing his cube in one gulp.
Jazz chuckled:
-Shit mech, you either had the munchies... his visor darkened and his smile disappeared. Or you really want to dodge this face-to-face.
Prowl barely tensed.
A normal bot certainly wouldn't have noticed, but this was Jazz.
Jazz saw everything.
-It's obvious to me that I've got work to do, Prowl replied calmly, perhaps with a touch of feigned annoyance. I appreciate having lunch with you, but I need to get back to it now-
-Prowl.
Jazz's voice was unmistakable.
Prowl remained silent, sitting upright in his chair, but knowing the serious expression coming from Jazz.
Prowl didn't seem to want to speak despite the silence, and Jazz almost sighed. Instead, he concentrated on his HUD, slipping with ease into the Ark's security system.
The door lock clicked, a sign that they'd been locked in.
Jazz crossed his arms and, half-lying back in the chair, put his feet up on the desk and crossed his legs.
-It's all right, Prowler, nobody's coming in, nobody's listening in.
This time Prowl let out a grimace:
-I've already told you not to hack the security system.
-Who's talking about hacking? Jazz let out a barely audible laugh. I'm OP's right-hand man. I've got all the access, mech.
Prowl massaged the bridge of his nose:
-Please don't let Red Alert find out. You'll make him short-circuited with anguish...
Jazz didn't reply. Instead, he continued to stare at Prowl.
Prowl tried to return his gaze, but quickly lowered his eyes.
Jazz didn't have time to worry about this, as an answer quickly came to him:
-I met Soundwave last night.
Jazz froze. Okay, that was like... Maybe one of the last things he expected to hear.
-...Meet... what do you mean?
-He asked me to meet him a few miles from here. He wanted to talk.
Jazz could almost have jumped to his feet, but he held back.
-And you went?
-Yes, I did.
-... Seriously, Prowl? What if it was a trap?
The tone was outwardly calm, but in truth it was tense. Jazz didn't let his emotions flirt much, but here... Even his field was hard to contain.
Prowl looked up, and beyond the guilt, there was also perplexity:
-...I didn't think it would worry you.
Jazz was speechless at first, then left his falsely relaxed position to stand up and slam his hands on the desk:
-Prowl, you went to see Soundwave on your own, in the middle of the night, without telling anyone! Of course I'm worried!
-... But you and he...
-It doesn't mean a thing! Do you think it stops us shooting each other when we're on the battlefield? We're...
Jazz paused, just long enough to recompose himself a little:
-... We're enemies, whatever our relationship. And if he's capable of hurting me, I can't imagine what he'd do to you.
Prowl hesitated. From what he'd observed, it wasn't entirely true. Maybe Jazz and Soundwave did get into fights, but they always escaped without major injury.
Was it possible that Jazz hadn't noticed such a detail?
He nodded anyway:
-I understand. I'm sorry I was so imprudent.
Jazz tries to give one of his friendly smiles despite his concern:
-... Yeah... Apology accepted. Jazz turned serious again. But why did he want to see you? And Jazz laughed before he had an answer. He offered you a job with the Decepticons, because you saved him?
Prowl put on a disgusted face:
-... Uh, no. No.
The idea really seemed to make him sick. He shook his head and resumed:
-He wanted to tell me that he owed me a debt.
-A debt. Jazz repeated, incredulous.
-... Because I saved him. I can ask whatever I want, as long as I don't push him to betray the Decepticons.
Jazz sat back, pursing his lips. It wouldn't be the first time Soundwave had felt ‘indebted’ to someone. He'd owed Jazz before, and vice versa. But to be indebted to Prowl ‘just’ because he'd helped him in the battlefield...
-Was his injury that serious? Jazz asked, trying to sound more intrigued than worried he hadn't been able to observe him enough on their date.
-Bad enough. Not fatal, but no doubt treating it late would have caused him to lose too much Energon.
Jazz was really hesitant now.
-... Okay. Listen. Don't meet him again, okay? Or, please, let me know first.
Prowl was about to say ‘no’, he was an adult and perfectly capable of handling himself.
But he weighed up the pros and cons, and in the end it was true that warning Jazz wasn't the stupidest solution. On the contrary, it might even prove beneficial, should things go wrong.
-All right.
Jazz thanked him with a smile and a nod. Then, in a lighter tone, he asked:
-If not, do you already have an idea for his debt?
-Not yet, I'm waiting for the right moment to use it. I don't want to rush into anything.
-Yeah. A Soundwave debt is precious.
-Very precious.
They nodded as one, agreeing on this point.
Jazz stretched:
-So, apart from that... he tried to lighten the mood, I was thinking of organizing a karaoke night with Blast', would you like to join in?
Prowl gave him a bored look:
-Me? Karaoke night?
-You've got a divine voice, Prowler. It must be crazy to hear you sing~
-I'd rather be deactivated now.
Prowl had nevertheless not failed to make an embarrassed little pout at the compliment, which he had taken as mockery.
Jazz chuckles:
-And then people say you've got no sense of humor~ Come on, you don't have to sing, you can just sit back and watch us do it! We can do it in small groups if it's the crowd that's bothering you!
Prowl shook his head.
-That would be worse. At least when it's crowded, it's easier for me to go unnoticed... He blinked, realizing what he was saying, and became annoyed. Ah, and that's not even the Problem First! I don't have time for a party, and you know very well that if I come, it'll set the mood.
-Even if it's just you, me and Blast'?
-Don't insist.
Jazz raised his hands in peace:
-Okay, okay!
Then after a silence:
-And a movie night?
-Jazz!
-Come on, just you and me! Spike showed me these cool human movies, I'm sure you'd like them!
He grinned teasingly:
-Well, do you prefer one-on-one with Sound after all?
-Jazz!
-Or do the three of us?
-So I can be the third wheel? That's even worse!
Prowl rolled his eyes, beginning to lose patience, and Jazz had that tender little smile on his lips again:
-Awn. I just want to spend time with you, Mech. We don't see enough of each other outside the office.
-And it's better this way. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not really a ‘fun’ robot, Prowl retorted with thinly veiled sarcasm.
-We never go out, so no, I haven't noticed~ Let me find out for myself!
Prowl sighed:
-You're not going to let me off the hook with that...
-Nop~
Prowl ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath.
-.... All right, then. A private party. Just the two of us. Something quiet, I don't like noise. And no karaoke!
Jazz smiled broadly as he stood up:
-Noted mech! I'll give you a day and hour when I've got the perfect idea!
He winked at him and quickly took off before Prowl could change his mind.
Left like that, Prowl took his head in his hands and sighed. Jazz was unbearable and giving him a serious headache.
.... And the idea of a date didn't make him blush at all!
Jazz took the time to get to his room, where he locked himself in.
He checked that his jammers were in place, that his cameras hadn't been hacked, that nothing had moved in the room in any way, checked his room at least 3 times, before concluding that he was safe, and opened a private chat:
Jazz ::We need to talk::
He received a reply just a few seconds later:
Soundwave ::Soundwave: available ::
Without having to speak aloud, Jazz let his ironic tone show just through his words:
Jazz ::You see other autobots behind my back, honey?::
He detected a hint of boredom in Soundwave's reply:
Soundwave ::Nickname: unappreciated::
At least it made Jazz smile:
Jazz :: AWN, really? I love it! ::
Soundwave :: Autobot jazz: idiot ::
Jazz :: But I'm YOUR idiot~ ::
Jazz guessed Soundwave was rolling his eyes, but he decided to put their nonsense aside and concentrated instead on what mattered to him:
Jazz :: Seriously Sound. Stay away from Prowl ::
Soundwave :: Jazz: too wary ::
Jazz :: Take it as a compliment, you're a big enough threat not to be underestimated ::
Soundwave :: Soundwave :flattered. But Jazz: don't worry. Soundwave: don't hurt Autobot Prowl. Obvious exception: battlefield ::
Jazz wasn't convinced. He really wasn't. He loved Soundwave, like, really. With all his Spark. But there was a difference between loving and trusting.
Jazz :: Let's say I believe you. But next time you meet Prowl, let me know ::
Jazz didn't miss the teasing in Soundwave's reply:
Soundwave :: Jazz: jealous? ::
Jazz :: Maybe Mech,maybe~ ::
Soundwave :: Query: jealous of me or Prowl? ::
Jazz froze.
Jazz :: Are you really asking Sound? ::
Soundwave :: Answer :affirmative ::
Jazz grimaced:
Jazz :: ... Just let me know when you see him again. That's all ::
He closed the conversation without waiting for an answer this time, and deleted it altogether to leave no trace.
Fucking stupid, sexy Decepticon.
Jazz patted his cheeks to regain composure.
Come on, there was no time to worry about that now! The great Jazz had an awesome date to organize!
Chapter 5: Being loyal
Notes:
Hi everyone!
Damn, I was afraid I wouldn't finish this chapter in time. I don't think I've told you this before, but there's already a large part of the fanfic written (I've got 40 chapters on my drive).
I'm taking the time to re-read and correct it as I post on AO3, and I'm having fun adding scenes based on feedback from my beta readers!
It turns out that the following chapter wasn't in the first version at all. I had fun writing it, but I confess I was afraid I wouldn't complete it in time (I've just finished translating it into English!)Anyway, enjoy your reading, and as usual, don't hesitate to let me know if there's a problem with the translation ;)
Chapter Text
Soundwave was typing on the meeting room monitor when he heard the door open behind his back.
He didn't bother to glance back, knowing already that it was Lord Megatron who had just entered.
His Lord approached him with a resolute step. Probably to scare off the other officers who were waiting patiently for the meeting to begin, each posted in a different part of the room.
Lord Megatron knew how to be discreet when he felt it was necessary, just as he knew how to dominate the crowd and demonstrate his superiority.
Soundwave finished configuring the upcoming communication, and finally took the liberty of turning to Megatron, whom he greeted respectfully.
-What's the status, Soundwave?
-Answer: call set-up, contact made with Cybertron.
Megatron stared at the screen, which showed nothing, and became annoyed:
-Why aren't we already on call in this case?
Soundwave remained apparently neutral, but that didn't stop him from feeling satisfaction. He could almost have let out a cold scoff when he replied:
-Answer: Shockwave is late.
It was always good to remember which was superior between him and Shockwave.
Megatron's jaw tightened slightly, in an attitude that meant he would take care to reprimand Shockwave.
Soundwave was already satisfied.
The screen sizzled and a shrill static noise was heard.
Seated with his trine in a corner of the room, Starscream imitated many of the officers by putting his hands on his audios:
-Fuck it, Soundwave, turn it off!!!!
Soundwave didn't reply, remaining unmoved. The problem wasn't on his side, but on Shockwave's, and honestly? It was too much fun to annoy Starscream.
The static noise stopped and the screen changed, finally revealing Shockwave. There were a few parasitic glitches, as every time they communicated with Cybertron. One could have criticized Soundwave's work -Starscream did it whenever he had the chance - but it was already a miracle that he managed to create a connection so often, considering the rudimentary equipment they had on Earth.
Megatron wasn't distracted by the noise, and fixed Shockwave with an incendiary stare:
-Shockwave.
-Lord Megatron.
-I suppose you have a good excuse for being late.
Shockwave was unperturbed:
-The lack of energy on Cybertron has caused a major blackout in the sector. We've only just restored power.
Megatron squinted a little more, and his voice rumbled:
-Your resources are greater than ours, but you manage to do worse than we do? Is that what you're telling me, Shockwave?
Soundwave refrained from commenting, although he could have defended his comrades on Cybertron.
Even though those who had remained on their home planet were fewer in number, their resources were no greater. For one simple reason: on Cybertron, they had no way of replenishing their stocks. Whereas on Earth, the Decepticons always had a way of stealing energy from humans - even if this was becoming increasingly complicated because of the Autobots.
Shockwave maintained his even tone:
-The space bridge project takes most of our reserves. I have managed to reduce the use of our resources to ensure that the project runs without problems. The sector is therefore under-supplied. It's the most logical solution, Lord Megatron.
The Lord lost some of his anger as he pondered the explanations.
The priority was indeed to repair the space bridge. It was costly in ressources, whether on the Cybertronian or the Earth side. But when the work would be finished... The Decepticons would clearly have an advantage over the Autobots. It was an opportunity not to be underestimated.
-Fine, keep it that way. Megatron nodded as he clasped his hands behind his back. How's the restoration progressing?
-Everything's on schedule. However, I felt we could go faster if we cut down on our workers' breaks.
This time, Soundwave steps in:
-Proposal: risking. Reduce break times: will tire workers and slow down the process.
Shockwave stared coldly at Soundwave:
-I've obviously calculated the optimum pause time to keep the work going without risking our main soldiers switching off. The most important thing is to prevent them from taking inefficient breaks, such as excessive interfacing, festivities and unsignaled racing.
Megatron's field trembled furiously, his eyes shining with a dangerous brightness:
-Our soldiers commit such debauchery when we are in wartime?
It certainly wasn't on the Nemesis that this sort of thing would happen. Not with Soundwave, which had its optics everywhere and informed Megatron of almost everything.
Megatron grumbled:
-Desactivate those who get caught again, so that they can set an example for their comrades.
Shockwave seemed surprisingly hesitant, before answering:
-This is an illogical request, my Lord. There aren't many of us already, and if we start eliminating them, we risk ending up outnumbered by the Autobots.
Only Shockwave could answer Megatron like that.
Megatron who retorted:
-It's not the number that counts, but the quality.
-.......Your request is always illogical.
Soundwave, like the other officers, could see that their Lord was holding back from slamming his fist down on the monitor.
Instead of letting his rage overwhelm him, Megatron kept his voice cool:
-Do you have any convincing arguments other than your 'logic', Shockwave?
-While your solution might work in some circumstances, it doesn't work here, Lord Megatron. The main instigators of these 'debauches' are important members we need for the moment.
-Give me names.
-Knockout and Breakdown.
Soundwave distinctly saw his boss's fists spasm.
Behind him, he heard Starscream swallow a sneer.
Of course. Knockout. Him again.
Naturally, if he hadn't demonstrated so many skills, such as medicine and engineering, to name but a few, he would have been eliminated a long time ago.
Megatron became annoyed:
-Make sure this debauchery never happens again. Consign Knockout to his quarters, and punish the fools who enjoy following this nonsense. And if he does it again..... Megatron squinted. Make Knockout understand that no one is irreplaceable. Neither he nor his conjunx.
Shockwave nodded:
-Yes, Lord Megatron.
It seemed not only a threat to those on Cybertron, but also to those on Earth.
“no one is irreplaceable”
Soundwave resisted the urge to place a hand on his empty frame.
Instead, he tugged gently on his link with his cassettes, seeking their attention, and his little ones responded without delay, each sending him joyful pings.
They were all occupied with their own activities. Ravage replaced Soundwave in the camera room, and Frenzy and Rumble were stationed just outside the meeting room to guard the entrance. The others were safely tucked away in their rooms.
-Soundwave. Megatron grabbed his attention. I want a complete summary of the current situation.
Soundwave quickly regained his composure and spoke to everyone in the room, including Shockwave.
He gave an update on their Energon reserves - which were very low - and on the rationing that had to be maintained - perhaps even further reduced.
Operations were planned all around the globe to gather energy from human settlements. The Autobots would never be able to intervene everywhere at once - or maybe they could, bearing in mind that they had Prowl and Jazz on their side, their ability to devise effective strategies was well proven -
While the space bridge project was progressing well on the Cybertron side, it was unfortunately not going so well on the Earth side.
The Autobots absolutely had to ignore this plan, so the Decepticons were very careful to hide the Earth bridge. They would have built it on the Nemesis, but the ship had crashed to the bottom of the ocean, and this could have disrupted the use of the bridge.
It was therefore agreed that the portal would be built on the surface, in a cave that the Decepticons had camouflaged, and that travel back and forth would be done with the utmost secrecy.
Soundwave suspected it was only a matter of time before the plan was discovered. He knew Jazz and Special Operations: they must already have suspected something.
That's why Soundwave was careful about what he said at their dates.
After a reshuffle of teams and objectives, Soundwave finished speaking, and Megatron took over:
-I hope you've been paying attention. He spoke in his deep, gravelly voice. I expect discipline and efficiency from you. The future of our fraction depends on each and every one of you.
Seeing that the officers seemed less than thrilled with the idea, Megatron allowed himself a chuckle:
-Those who bring me the best results will be rewarded with increased rations.
Immediately, the mood changed and the officers seemed much more convinced and motivated, shouting to the glory of their Lord.
Shockwave and Soundwave had few reactions -although Soundwave intended to win the award, his energon rations were divided between him and his tapes...-
Starscream didn't celebrate at all, and instead grimaced as he crossed his arms and glared at Megatron. As always, he wasn't thrilled with their Lord's speech.
The room began to emptying, the Decepticons in a hurry to get back to work.
Soundwave stayed by Megatron's side as he turned one last time to Shockwave.
-I expect a lot from you, Shockwave. Don't disappoint me.
-Of course, Lord Megatron.
Megatron gave him a warning look, before leaving the room in his turn.
Soundwave was about to end the transmission, but his gaze caught Shockwave's, and they stared harshly at each other. Had they been in the same room, the atmosphere would probably have been even colder than it was now. Soundwave could easily guess that their field was just as tumultuous as the other.
-You let Lord Megatron make decisions that could cost us the war.
Shockwave's reproach was said in a monotonous tone.
The two mechas never bothered to raise their voices; haughty indifference was the best weapon between them.
-Lord Megatron: knows what he's doing. Shockwave logic: limited.
Shockwave's optics took on a very slight nuance, and Soundwave knew he had offended him. Behind his mask, he smiled mockingly.
His colleague replied in the same tone as before:
-I care about the future of Cybertron, where our Lord only seems to care about winning the war.
-War: necessary for the future of Cybertron.
-Maybe at first, but it's dragging on and going the way of the Autobots.
-Decepticons: will turn the tide. But only: if Shockwave does a better job.
Again, this nuance in the Cyclops' optics.
Oh, sweet pleasure to put this scientist in his place~
-I'm doing my job properly. I'm not the one struggling to build the space bridge.
Soundwave squinted.
-Shockwave: struggles to maintain control over troops. Lord Megatron: knows how to control his soldiers.
-With you by his side, he has a real advantage.
Shockwave's optics barely creased, and Soundwave could almost hear a suspicious tone in his voice:
-I wonder how long this will continue.
-Shockwave: doubting Soundwave's loyalty?
The carrier looked interrogative. Inside, he was seething.
As if HE could betray Megatron? HIM, of all the Decepticons?
-You're the only one who never questions our Lord, for perfectly logical reasons. You enjoy the best position at his side, he holds you in high esteem. But we're short of Energon, and the Autobots are way ahead of us. The soldiers are asking questions, and officers like Starscream have already tried to rebel.
Soundwave felt his spark pulsate with anger.
-Soundwave: different from Starscream. Starscream: weak and cowardly, a traitor without hesitation. Soundwave: loyal to Megatron.
The truth was that Shockwave betrayed no emotion, but Soundwave couldn't help feeling that the other was mocking him.
He would have cut off communication to shorten the conversation, but that would have been an admission of weakness. And Soundwave certainly didn't intend to lose to Shockwave!
The conversation couldn't continue, however, because of the sudden screams that were heard at the entrance to the room:
-Speak better, asshole!!!
-You, speak better, you piece of shit!!!
Soundwave winced loudly. Not only had he recognized Rumble's voice, but Skywarp's as well.
Of course, as soon as he took his eyes off them, these two STILL had to fight!
He hated Shockwave's stare:
-Looks like you have to go. Goodbye, Soundwave.
And he hung up. Shockwave DARED to hang up first!
Soundwave felt furious. It was up to him to have the last word!
Pestering and cursing Skywarp - he could never curse Rumble, his cassettes would never be wrong!- he switched off the monitor, and turned around to head for the entrance to the room, where Skywarp towered over Rumble, where Rumble remained on his feet, head held high and jaw clenched. The two glared at each other, fists clenched, ready to pounce.
Frenzy was panicking behind his brother, hesitating to intervene, while Starscream giggled at seeing his comrade seeker causing trouble in this way.
Soundwave stood a few steps away from them:
-Skywarp, Rumble: stop.
The two tensed, and glanced at Soundwave, before Rumble exclaimed:
-He started it!
Skywarp rolled his eyes:
-Uh, you mess with me, and then I’M the problem? I'm gonna smash you!
-Oh yeah?! Come here, come if you dare!
Soundwave's voice was much more forceful:
-Instruction: stop. NOW.
Both swallowed as they straightened up, standing to attention.
Starscream squinted and quickly came to stand in front of Skywarp:
-Stop overprotecting your pests and let them deal with their problems like decent Decepticons!
Soundwave supported his gaze, but not without profound annoyance. As much as he could understand why Shockwave was a High Officer, he would never understand what Lord Megatron saw in Starscream -okay, Soundwave was being a bit disingenuous here, Starscream had a lot of ability when he wasn't stupidly wasting it on cowardice-
-Starscream: must control its trine. Unless Starscream: can't?
His insult hit just the right spot. Starscream's wings sprang up as he held back from feinting.
The tension was palpable.
Until Thundercracker, the third seeker, grabbed Starscream and Skywarp and pulled them back:
-That's enough, let's go...
The blue seeker was indeed the wisest of the three.
Sometimes Soundwave wondered why HE wasn't the leader of the trio. Thundercracker was much calmer and more thoughtful, even if he didn't have Skywarp's fighting spirit or Starscream's strategy.
Starscream continued to glare at Soundwave all the way, until they disappeared into another corridor.
Only then, Soundwave allowed himself to turn his attention back to Rumble:
-Rumble: to be an adult and a soldier. Rumble: must act like one.
-Pff, I know...
Rumble pouted, annoyed at being lectured. He was used to it, it happened regularly.
Frenzy sighed and patted him on the back, to which Rumble gave an outraged exclamation. They were about to fight, but both were slapped on the back of the helmet by Soundwave, who passed them and walked towards the surveillance room.
The twins shrieked as they felt the slap, glaring at each other before following their carrier's lead like two little bodyguards.
This didn't stop them from arguing over their private line:
-[:: Keep being a jerk and I'll tell Jazz::]
-[:: Pff, what's he gonna do, huh? ::]
-[:: Probably deprive you of treats ::]
-[:: You think I'm a sparkly? I don't care! ::]
-[:: Oh, fine then, I'll tell him you don't want any more~::]
Rumble's engine roared:
-Fuck you! he shouted loudly, and Frenzy laughed.
Soundwave resisted massaging his temples. Sometimes he felt exhausted having to deal with EVERYONE, whether it was his cassettes or even the other Decepticons.
The twins continued to argue all the way, and when Soundwave finally entered the camera room, Ravage raised his head from the seat where he had been sitting quietly.
They exchanged a look, and Ravage seemed highly amused. Probably because he could feel his carrier's annoyance.
-Long day, boss?
-Answer: affirmative.
Ravage jumped down from the seat to let Soundwave sit there, before leaping back onto his legs. Naturally, the carrier ran his hand over the panther, and this simple gesture relaxed him. Pampering Ravage was one of the best ways to get over the tension.
Especially with Frenzy and Rumble still bickering in the background.
Ravage passed on the private line, teasing:
-[:: Maybe another meeting with a certain spy is required ::]
Soundwave felt a slight warmth come over his face.
-[:: Answer: negative. Seeing Jazz again so soon: too risky ::]
Ravage shrugged:
-[:: Maybe not::]
-[:: Lord Megatron: will know. Already know: meeting with Prowl::]
-[:: If he agreed to let you see Prowl again to recruit him, he'll agree to Jazz::]
Soundwave wasn't sure. Recruiting Prowl was one thing; the tactician may have been an Autobot, but at first glance he didn't seem as naive and innocent as the others, and that included not seeming as enthusiastic about the Prime's utopian ideal.
But Jazz?
Jazz was undoubtedly Optimus' most loyal partisan. Soundwave knew something about that, and he was sure Lord Megatron did too.
-[:: Well, how about a call with Jazz?::] Ravage suggested.
Soundwave gave a little pout, well hidden behind his mask.
-[:: Soundwave : will see ::]
Ravage already knew that meant 'I'll do it'.
And precisely that evening...
Soundwave was now alone in the surveillance room, when he finally decided to contact Jazz.
Of course, he took care to secure the call, as you never knew who might intercept the line - he was particularly wary of the Autobot Blaster - and waited patiently.
-[:: Hey Sound! ::] Jazz's teasing voice was always a melody Soundwave enjoyed hearing. [:: I wasn't expecting this call, you miss me this much?~ ::]
The Decepticon rolled his eyes, feeling his lips quiver gently, envious of smiling.
Jazz had a natural ability to appease his spark.
-[:: Answer : negative ::]
Of course, Soundwave showed bad faith. But revealing too easily that he was happy to hear him made him feel vulnerable to the spy.
Jazz returned the favor. It only made their exchanges more fun. Fighting and not admitting clearly how they felt was a game for them, a dance whose steps they knew inside out.
-[:: Does this mean there's a problem? Do you need a favor? ::] Jazz asked mischievously.
-[:: Answer: still negative ::]
Jazz gave a delighted exclamation:
-[:: So you miss me!::]
He concluded, and his mischievous smile could clearly be heard in his voice:
-[::: I think you'd dream of seeing me and hugging me ::]
-[:: Jazz: being silly ::]
-[::: You make it sound like an insult! I'm romantic, isn't that nice?::]
Soundwave rolled his eyes, although he felt that, yes, he would have liked to have Jazz with him, to hug him, hold him close to his frame and never let him go again.
He told himself that the Autobot must feel the same.
-[:: Unless it's not a hug you want? Maybe you'd like more? ::]
Soundwave felt the heat sweep over him.
-[:: Jazz: pervert::]
-[:: Oh, come on! ::] Jazz pretended to be outraged, before giggling, always so deliciously [:: Dare to tell me you wouldn't like to do more? Dare to tell me you've never fantasized about it? ::]
Jazz's voice became lower, tempting:
-[:: Dare you tell me you haven't already thought of leaving your cassettes at home, to have me all to yourself?::]
Soundwave swallows.
-[:: Can you imagine what we could do, just the two of us, without your little ones to watch?::]
Jazz's voice had become warm.
Soundwave imagined him in his room at the Ark, lying in bed, talking to him as he spread his legs.
The carrier settled a little more comfortably in his seat.
-[:: Imagine Sound... You could lying down, watching the starry sky.... I'd settle on top of you, take the time to kiss you everywhere, absolutely everywhere....~ ::]
-[:: Query: where? ::]
Jazz was perplexed by the question :
-[:: I just told you mech, every-where~::]
-[:: Negative. Answer: not what Soundwave expected. Soundwave: wants to know where he would be lying ::]
Soundwave smiled in amusement at Jazz's silence. He could just imagine him blinking in confusion:
-[:: I don't know, mech. On a bed? ::]
-[:: Negative: Jazz said: starry sky. So scene takes place: outside ::]
Jazz chuckled:
-[:: Oh shit, mech, seriously? Mm... then you'd lie in the sand, we'd meet at the beach like last time~::]
Soundwave had a mischievous twinkle in his eye:
-[:: Negative: unpleasant sand and gets stuck in your knuckles::]
Jazz's clear laugh made him smile fondly.
-[:: Ahahah, okay, okay. Where would you like to lie down then? ::]
Soundwave took the time to think about it.
-[:: Soundwave: would like to lie down in the damp grass::]
-[:: ...Ah? ::] Jazz looked intrigued.
-[:: Soundwave: likes the smell of grass after it rains and: it's more pleasant. Soundwave : would lie down and : put his hands on Jazz's hips ::]
This time, it was Jazz who fell completely silent as the Decepticon took the lead in the story :
-[:: Soundwave: would caress Jazz's hips: would slide his hands over his thighs then: would caress his inner thighs::]
He lowered his voice, imagining the scene, the moonlight reflected in Jazz's visor, his smug smile becoming tremulous beneath his fingers.
-[:: Soundwave: will massage Jazz's thighs, until they reach his valve panel. Jazz: will pretend to be in control because Jazz is an idiot ::]
Jazz gave a giggle, where he would normally have made a falsely outraged noise. Was the Autobot also imagining the scene? Was it having an effect on him?
-[:: Soundwave: would run his thumbs over the panel. Jazz panel: trembling, valve probably: already wet ::]
-[:: Ahah...~:::] Jazz's voice was a little hoarser. [:: You mean that with a few caresses, you'd already have had such an effect on me?::]
-[:: Jazz: sensitive to Soundwave. Soundwave: superior ::]
This time, Jazz's laughter redoubled:
-[:: Ahah, let's say that's right! As if YOU weren't sensitive to me~ ::]
It was hard for Soundwave not to relax at the Autobot's good humor and teasing:
-[:: Soundwave: insensitive ::]
-[:: And yet it's you who called me~::]
The decepticon was flabbergasted, immediately pouting. Well, it wasn't wrong, but Jazz didn't need to insist on it!
-[::Soundwave: hang up::]
-[:: Noooo! Ahah, don't pout mech! I'm glad you called me! I really am! ::]
Rah, how could Soundwave continue to sulk when Jazz said such things to him?
-[:: Jazz: fool ::]
-[:: But I'm your fool!::]
-[:: Soundwave: wants to see Jazz ::]
This time, Jazz didn't answer right away, probably surprised by this too-honest confession.
Soundwave half regretted having said too much, but decided not to go back on his word, preferring to assume rather than back down.
Jazz finally let out a whisper-like breath:
-[:: I want to see you too, Sound ::]
The carrier's spark fluttered, his eyes lighting up behind the visor.
He heard a hint of shyness in Jazz's voice, which the bot tried to hide behind his usual nonchalance:
-[:: When do we plan to meet again?::]
Soundwave didn't hesitate long over the answer:
-[:: Usual duration: + 7200 - 2400 ? ::]
-[:: That's fine with me. Usual location n°05.02 ? ::]
-[:: Approved ::]
Soundwave let his head rest against the back of the seat:
-[:: Soundwave: can't wait ::]
-[:: The same, mech::]
The ‘I miss you’ was on the edge of their lips, but neither of them said it.
It was explicit enough that they didn't need to say it at all.
Chapter 6: C̶o̶l̶l̶e̶a̶g̶u̶e̶ Friendly R̶o̶m̶a̶n̶t̶i̶c̶ date
Notes:
Hello everyone!
Thanks for your comments, both here and on my social networks, and thanks for your kudos too! It's always nice to see that you like the story and even waiting for the rest :D
Here's the new chapter of “Logic leads Me to You”, I hope you'll like it!
Enjoy ;)
Chapter Text
Only a few days had passed since Jazz and Prowl had discussed a possible date, and to tell the truth, Prowl had quickly put it aside.
His processor quickly became focused on work. With all the schedules to manage, the study of previous battles and the development of strategies for future operations... Prowl was overwhelmed as usual. The tactical sector was understaffed, and although Prowl took the time to delegate a little to Smokescreen and Bluestreak (which was quite an achievement, Prowl HATED delegating his work) it was still hard to keep up (even if it was still better than on Cybertron).
So Prowl was surprised when he received a message from Jazz:
Jazz :: Meet me in my room, tomorrow night at 2030 ~::
If Prowl didn't have more self-control, he would probably have made a very embarrassing static noise.
That's how he got to his ' date', without the slightest idea of what to expect. A rare thing for him, who always had a thousand theories about what might happen.
Prowl stood awkwardly in front of the door, a good fifteen minutes early, hesitating between ringing immediately or waiting until the appointed time.
But wasn't it strange to arrive too early or on time? He had already heard the twins mention that 'arriving late was being desired'.
....B-But Prowl didn't want to be desired! He was a polite person who arrived early, that's all. Arriving late meant wasting the time of the person who had been waiting!
With these words in hand, Prowl summoned up the courage to ring the doorbell.
...
And nobody answered?
Prowl stared at the door for several long seconds. Then a full minute. Then another full minute.
He didn't want to sound insistent, but he was a little surprised. For good measure, he waited another minute before pressing the doorbell again.
And there was still no answer.
Prowl felt his nerves grow. Was Jazz not there? Had he come to the wrong place? Of course not, he'd carefully read the message, there was 0% chance he'd made a mistake, unless Jazz himself had made an error, which was only 0.1% likely, because Jazz didn't make that kind of error.
Maybe Jazz just hadn't arrived yet. But it was weird anyway, this was his room! Why wasn't he here?
Still in doubt, Prowl set off to reread the message.
He checked the date, the time, the place...
No, everything was correct.
Was Jazz late for his own date he'd set at his own room?
Well, no, Jazz wasn't late yet, but it would soon be time, and...
A long shiver ran through Prowl as he sensed a familiar presence behind him. Before he could turn around, he felt the person at his back lean over and whisper into the hollow of his neck:
-I can hear you thinking from across the hall, Prowler~
Prowl blushed and turned sharply, almost hitting Jazz with his door wings.
Jazz chuckled at the tactician's displeased look.
-Don't approach me like that! the police car grumbled.
-AWN, but you're so cute to mess with!
Prowl rolled his eyes as he felt his blush intensify:
-I'm not 'cute'.
Jazz gave him that teasing little smile that meant he didn't believe it. Prowl refrained from pouting, mainly because they were still in the corridor.
-I think it's cute that you're so impatient that you're early!
-I-I just finished my shift early and didn't have anything else to do, that's all. Prowl retorted in bad faith. And you, where were you?
Jazz winked at him with his visor, and pulled a beautiful metal box out of his sub-space:
-I went to pick up some cakes from Ironhide, I thought the snacks wouldn't be enough!
-... Cakes.
-Yeah, I asked him if he could make us some for tonight, he said yes! I don't know if you've tried his recipe yet, but it's really delicious!
-.....
Prowl had to reset its optics. And his vocalizer. And his hearing.
-...you ordered....cakes... From Ironhide, our infantry officer?
-Yes, I did!
-The Ironhide who's a member of the high command with us?
-Yes!
-The vehement Ironhide with whom I have such disagreements that one of us always ends up breaking furniture in the few cases where we don't fight directly?
Jazz's smile was as bright as ever:
-Yes! That's it!
Prowl felt he could almost facepalm. He'd forgotten how nervous he was, it all seemed so improbable.
-... I'm going to imitate you and pretend everything's normal.
Jazz laughed as he passed him, finally unlocking the door:
-Ohhh, but everything's normal! The Mech can be a good soldier and a good cook! You're going to love it, he puts raw gold copos in it, it melts in your mouth!
Jazz entered in his room, Prowl following. The tactician wanted to ask if this added raw gold was deliberate or not, because it was one of his favorite metals... But his question ended as he discovered the other mecha's quarters.
Oh, it wasn't the first time he'd dropped in on Jazz, but never on a date, and even less so an intimate one. So when he saw the low table laid out with various snacks, and accompanied by small candles, he was completely taken aback. That, and the usually messy sofa had been carefully tidied up. Prowl was even 93% sure there was more cushion than last time.
Then another thing he noticed: Jazz's instruments. Jazz had quite a collection of musical instruments, and it was usually difficult to navigate his home without risking hitting something. But here, everything had been moved to the back, freeing up space for better navigation. Suffice to say, for Prowl and his wing doors, this was a relief.
Jazz proceeded to quietly place the box of cakes on the table, before walking over to his beautiful Cybertronian record player, an old vintage model he'd confided he'd unearthed in Staniz, long before the beginning of the war. He turned it on, and the room filled with pleasant country music.
-Make yourself comfortable, Mech!
Jazz smiled at Prowl as he returned to the table, and lit the candles, before sending a command to his lamps to dim the lights, giving a little subdued ambience.
Prowl, still stunned, let his body guide him to the sofa, and he sat down carefully, tense again. When Jazz had told him about a date, he hadn't 'really' imagined one. At least, not the kind of date you'd find in romantic comedies or the mushy movies young sparks fantasized about!
Jazz moved away again, only to open a cupboard and take out a bottle... Which Prowl recognized as a high-quality bottle of Engex. The kind of bottle he regularly confiscated from certain mechas, especially the twins.
-WH-Jazz!
-What? Jazz had the nerve to be outraged, or at least to pretend to be, before smiling teasingly again. The twins owed me one, and that's just between us!
-It's illegal!
-But it's so good!
Prowl sighed. How could he even try to argue with this oddball?
Jazz laughed again, far too lightly and happily for Prowl to have the heart to stay angry. But that didn't mean he lost his annoyed pout - that would be giving Jazz too much credit!
Jazz returned to him with the bottle and two glasses, and sat down quietly on the sofa, leaving a polite distance between them.
Prowl felt the tension returning as he was now in unfamiliar territory. How exactly was he supposed to act? He assumed, at 65%, that he should act as usual.. But what was 'usual'? Because usually, they talked about work, war, Decepticon... Hmm, did that kind of subject belong here?
He finally asked :
-Do you often go on dates like this?
Jazz had started to pour engex for them, but stopped to look at Prowl. Behind his visor, he had raised an eyebrow:
-Not really. I usually hang out with noisy, overly dynamic mechs, like Blaster. Or the twins. They prefer crowded places with lots of noise.
Jazz winked at him:
-Not exactly the kind of thing you'd like, right?
Prowl was speechless for a moment, before nodding:
-... Yes, that's right.
He felt embarrassed. It was true that he had been rather... Exigant. And Jazz had been kind enough to take that into account.
-Don't make that face, Prowler, you look like you're about to apologize! Jazz interrupted his thoughts and handed him his glass. It's really nice to be here with you. I don't need to be constantly surrounded by people and loud music to have fun, you know!
Prowl took the glass, and when Jazz came to toast with him, he released the tension in his shoulders:
-All right, then. Well... I appreciate you finding this pleasing. And, uh... I certainly enjoy it too. To be here. he swallows. ... with you. Okay, he was pretty sure he was blushing again.
Jazz had a small, satisfied smile and raised his glass:
-Ahah, yeah, to our pleasure mech~
He opened the ball by taking a sip. Prowl was more hesitant as he looked at his drink, but decided to imitate his comrade and took a more timid sip. He pouted a little, not quite sure what to make of it.
-Don't you like it? Jazz asked without the slightest reproach.
-It's okay. But it's strong.
-That's the point. But if you want something lighter, I'm sure I've got some in stock.
Prowl shook his head:
-No, no, don't worry. I just... have to get used to it.
-Take your time, we don't even have to finish the bottle.
-I hope not, it wouldn't be serious, two drunken officers.
Jazz took a long look at Prowl, and the tactician didn't really appreciate the feeling of being judged. He pouted:
-What?
-You don't hold the engex that well, Prowler?
Prowl crossed his arms defensively, exclaiming:
-I'm holding on fine!
-You just said we'd be drunk, but we're drinking a bottle together!
-Well, excuse me for not having your tolerance!
Jazz let out another of his laughs, which were so pleasant and warm, and moved closer to Prowl, enough to stick their legs together:
-I accept your apology. Don't worry, there are many here who have no tolerance, even if the majority claim the opposite.
Prowl rolled his eyes:
-Of course. We're surrounded by immature sparks.
-You're tough! We're at war, any excuse is good for a good time.
-By provoking unruly, uncontrollable and dangerous behavior?
Jazz finally made a little pout of his own, and like the good little slacker he was, he came to poker Prowl's cheek:
-Instead of focusing on the 'mess' our soldiers cause, wouldn't you rather spend some time with them, trying to see how their drinking parties can be fun?
Prowl frowned as he leaned back against the pillows, glaring down at his glass. He definitely didn't see how this was 'fun', especially as he could remember many evenings that had ended very badly, even for Jazz!
Jazz sighed, then nudged him:
-Hey, Prowl... I'm not telling you to participate constantly, or even enjoy it. You don't even have to stay if you're really tired of it. But... can you try it at least once? Come and have a look, swap a bit, and then you can draw whatever conclusions you want.
Prowl hesitated. The few times he'd turned up at this kind of party, it had been to interrupt, not to participate.
-I don't know. He looks at Jazz. If I go, will you be there too?
-Why wouldn't I be? Jazz smiled again. Do you need old Jazz for support?
-You're not that old. Prowl took another sip of his drink. ...but if you're there, at least I know it won't be completely unpleasant.
Jazz laughed heartily:
-Wow, you like my company. Mech, I'm blushing, aren't I?
Prowl looked at him skeptically:
-No.
-I'm not? Because my face is really on fire, ahah!
It wasn't obvious. Yet, if Prowl had been able to project himself in Jazz's place, he would have known that the other mecha was very serious.
Unfortunately, Prowl wasn't able to project himself, and he just sighed:
-Instead of making fun, answer the question.
-I'm not mocking!
Jazz put an arm around his shoulders:
-I'd love to come with you. You can take me wherever you like, Prowl!
Prowl pouted again, and hid behind a third sip of engex.
-Mm... Not sure that's the kind of thing you say between colleagues.
Jazz raised an optic, but kept his teasing little smile:
-I could almost be offended, you know?
-Why would you be?
-Because you only think of us as colleagues.
Prowl froze. He looked at Jazz with wide eyes.
-... I... Yes? Is that what we are?
There was silence. Slowly, Jazz withdrew his arm, giving Prowl space even though he didn't move away.
-Oh. Well, I can't blame you for that after all. he shrugged. Okay, no worries.
Prowl felt he'd missed something.
-Did you expect another answer?
Jazz gave him a softer smile:
-A little. I mean, I... I consider that you're a friend. But it's okay if it's not mutual.
Prowl blurted out.
-....what?
-Well, I'm not going to force you into a relationship, Mech, I'm familiar with the principle of consent, I-
-No, Jazz, I mean... What do you mean, “we're friends”? Why?
Jazz tilted his head, his field emitting a little confusion:
-Why? We've known each other for years, we get on well. I like spending time with you, and you told me earlier that the feeling was mutual. he enunciated, and soon it was him hiding behind a sip of engex. ... And then what you did for me... saving Sound... Except for a friend, I don't know who could do such a thing.
Prowl was speechless.
A longer silence followed, awkward and hesitant, as each of the two Autobots stared at their glass in silence, as if the answer to the unease lay hidden in the liquid.
Prowl broke the silence first, aware that there was only a 0.2% chance that the situation would resolve itself:
-I didn't think you saw it that way. he hesitated to take another sip, but thought he'd already had too much too quickly. So he put down his glass. You're social with everyone, you're popular, you probably have other friends than me.
-I do have other friends, Jazz confirmed. But so what? Sorry, mech, I'm not the 'exclusive relationship' type! he joked, but finally dared to look at Prowl. Seriously, yeah, I get on with everyone and have a lot of pals. But there's a difference between ' pals' and 'friends'. And yeah, no offense, but I know my friends circle is bigger than yours, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you.
For one of those rare occasions, Jazz let a nervous twitch show as he came over to massage the back of his neck:
-...I don't want to hurt you, but I can't really be close to 'just' you. I don't work that way.
Prowl shook his head:
-No, that's not what I'm asking, certainly not. On the contrary, it reassures me if...well, you've got other friends. If I were the only one, it would be a lot of pressure.
Jazz chuckled:
-Boy, you're the first mech I've heard that says being a 'friend' is pressure.
-Of course it's pressure, every relationship is pressure! It's a responsibility! A-And I don't know if I can handle that kind of responsibility.
Jazz patted him on the shoulder:
-That's why I'm not forcing anything on you. If you don't consider us friends, that's fine. You don't owe me anything.
-But you... You expect something from me!
-I don't expect anything. What are you talking about? Jazz winked at him. You're putting too much pressure on yourself, mech. Look at it this way: a relationship depends on both parties. Either we're friends, and we make it work together, or we're not friends, and then there's nothing to make it work. In both cases, you don't have to carry any 'responsibility' alone.
Jazz raised his hands innocently in the air:
-After that, it's my point of view. 'hide already told me it was stupid.
-Why would he say something like that? Prowl frowned.
-Oh, you know him. He's into the old cybertronian traditions. That whole 'if you spend years with another mecha, it's bound to be a friend' thing. If we weren't at war, he'd probably be all over us with that Amica Endura stuff.
Prowl had squinted as his processor dealt with everything Jazz had just told him.
-Well... I hope he never gets “ all over us ” with this, I absolutely don't feel ready to get involved in this way.
He then searched for his words, before looking at Jazz shyly:
-...But being 'friends' with you doesn't sound so bad.
-You always have a funny way of phrasing your sentences!
-I formulate my sentences very well.
Jazz chuckled and put down his glass, offering his hand to him:
-So it's official now, partner? We're friends?
Prowl grinned and shook his hand:
-Yes, okay, we're friends. but he frowned. Don't let this give you the idea of taking advantage, I'm always angry that you're dealing with the twins.
-Ohhhh, you're no fun!
The tactician smirked.
The rest of the evening passed quietly.
They nibbled on Ironhide's cakes, and Prowl had to admit that they were indeed delicious. Although he'd never admit it to anyone, that would be giving him too much credit.
The praxian settled for his single glass of engex, while Jazz took two more glasses. The music continued to provide a pleasant rhythm to the evening, so much so that Prowl could almost have fallen asleep on a recharge.
It was when he felt his processor was a little too disconnected that he decided to leave.
Jazz looked fine, but Prowl reckoned there was an 80% chance he'd be faking it, just to keep face. That would be Jazz's style.
On this pleasant note, Prowl took his leave, and as he saluted Jazz, the spy's small, delighted smile brought gentle butterflies to his stomach.
He ignored them and left, thinking back on what this date had brought him.
He'd 'won' a friend. Knowing that Jazz considered him one made him feel strange.
It made him really happy, to know that he and Jazz were much closer than they'd thought.
Prowl made his way back to his quarters.
It was there that he was really struck by the difference between his room and Jazz's.
Jazz's room was so full of personal things, whether it was his instruments that showed his passion for music, or the little sitting area to make himself comfortable with guests.
Prowl had none of that. Just the bare necessities: his bed, his desk, his datapad-filled bookshelf.
He didn't need anything more.
And all of a sudden, returning to such empty, impersonal quarters made his spark feel hollow. It was as if this wasn't really his room, his space.
He felt more at home in his office than here.
He sighed and moved closer to his desk.
There, he opened a drawer containing a box. He retrieved it and settled back in his chair, opening the container to reveal several compartments, with various components carefully arranged by Prowl himself.
Until a short while ago, this had all made up a harmonica.
Occasionally, Jazz would perform in the hobby room, with one of his many instruments, just for the pleasure of the mechs.
One evening, a few months ago, he had performed with his harmonica. It had been fun, until an argument broke out between two autobots, and escalated into a full-blown row.
This was one of the reasons why Prowl didn't like these kinds of parties, especially when he found himself surrounded by drunken, out-of-control people.
By the time the situation had calmed down with Jazz's help, Prowl had realized only too late that the harmonica had been badly damaged in the action, becoming unusable.
Jazz had assured him that it was no big deal and should simply be thrown away.
Instead, Prowl picked it up.
Jazz was as attached to that harmonica as he was to any of his instruments. Except that Jazz was also the type to say it was okay to break his things, as if he was trying not to have too many attachments to material possessions, or even people.
Prowl could understand. That was one of the reasons why he had an empty room: to get attached was to make yourself vulnerable. It meant having weaknesses.
Just look at what his feelings for Jazz drove him to do...
Prowl knew nothing about musical instruments. Even less about how to repair one.
He could have asked Wheeljack; there was a 99% chance he'd know how.
But first, Wheeljack surely had better things to do.
And then....honestly, Prowl wanted to do it himself.
Out of ego, no doubt. And out of a feeling that he could do something for Jazz, something more personal than just giving out cold numbers and strategies.
His gaze lingered on the components. The repair had gone through the stage of completely dismantling the instrument, repairing or replacing every little part, and Prowl had carefully studied the schematics and the way he had to reassemble it all, so that it would produce a correct sound.
It must have been the engex playing on his processor, or even the Jazz heat he'd felt during that date, but Prowl felt motivated to get back to his repairs.
So he opened the documents on his HUD, and placed the components on the desk.
Perhaps he could finish repairing it before dawn.
Chapter 7: Getting hurt, but with ☆ style ☆
Notes:
I'd got a good advance on the correction and translation, but I got badly organized with the illustration... :(
I wanted to post the chapter on time, so here it is! I'll update the links in ‘Chapter Summary’ when the illustration will be posted on my networks :)Enjoy!
Chapter Text
-COVERED!
Jazz had just time to throw himself into a trench when the explosion sounded loud. He gritted his teeth, wishing he'd toned down his audio inputs.
-Damn... He ranted in a low voice.
He and his team had gone to the forest area, after a small group of Decepticons had been spotted there. But it turned out that the reports had been wrong, as the 'small group' had turned out to be much bigger than expected.
-What should we do? Mirage's voice was heard to his left.
Jazz looked at his teammate, thinking quickly:
-Are communications restored?
-No, we still can't contact the Ark.
-Where are Bumblebee and Blurr?
Mirage pursed his lips and shook his head, indicating that he didn't know.
Four Autobots against a dozen Decepticons. Crap... Jazz nevertheless forced a smile:
-Blurr must have gone for help.
-If he wasn't hit by the explosion...
Jazz nudged the other mecha with his shoulder:
-Hey hey, Mech, what did we say?
Mirage sighed:
- ' Positivity and faith in your teammates ', I know... Mirage smiled again. Do you have a plan?
Jazz winked at him:
-Always. Can you become invisible?
Mirage checked his data, then nodded:
-Yes, but I've been damaged, so I don't think I'll last more than a few minutes.
They heard the screams of the Decepticons and their footsteps drew closer to their hiding place. Fortunately, there were no seekers flying overhead.
-Okay... Jazz spoke more quietly. You take them from the rear, I'll create a diversion.
He saw Mirage's grimace. And for Mirage to show such hesitation and concern, the situation was serious! The mecha, a member of the nobility, was one of those who knew how to control his expressions to the maximum.
-Jazz, I'm not sure...
-That's an order. Jazz cut him off and stopped smiling. I'll handle it.
Mirage felt his throat knot. But quickly, he became invisible. Before moving away, he put his hand on Jazz's arm:
-Don't die.
As Jazz felt him pull away, he held back a laugh.
Oh hell no, he wasn't going to die. Not when he was still needed.
He held his breath, all his sensors on alert. Slowly, he pulled a grenade from his subspace... and as soon as the Decepticons were close enough, he threw it.
-GRENADE!
One of the Decepticons shouted as they all looked up at the grenade in question. The Decepticon drew his weapon and fired, sending the grenade exploding into the air.
Jazz threw himself out of the trench, taking advantage of the inattention to slam his fist into the face of one of the soldiers, hard enough to knock him unconscious.
-Shit! another Decepticon shouted and turned his gun on Jazz.
Jazz just grinned and dropped to the ground, dodging the shot that brought down another robot behind him...
Okay, eight more.
The thing was, he'd lost the element of surprise now.
He felt it when he heard a gunshot, and a searing pain in his leg.
His knee joint twisted and knocked him down. He held back a grimace as he felt the barrel of another Decepticon aimed straight at his face.
A head did indeed explode. But not his own. Rather, that of the Decepticon who had been aiming at him.
The body fell to the ground.
Seven to go.
The Decepticons, surprised to see one of their own killed out of nowhere, turned their gaze to where the shot had come from, but there was no one there.
Jazz could have smiled, knowing Mirage was there. In fact, another of his shots failed to put another Decepticon down, and Jazz, despite his wounded leg, took the opportunity to turn and fire back at what he could.
Until one of the Decepticons picked up where the mysterious shots were coming from, and fired in Mirage's direction. The mecha's camouflage was blown off, and Mirage reappeared in plain sight with a scream, wounded in the shoulder.
Jazz flinched. Before the last Decepticons had time to concentrate on Mirage, he activated his audio protocols and unleashed a violent burst of ultrasound around him.
The Decepticons screamed as they tried to protect their audio inputs, and Jazz did the same, himself impacted. With difficulty, he heard a shot, and then another: Mirage was trying to take advantage of the situation to shoot down other enemies.
Jazz tried to keep count, but the ultra sounds were making him sick. How many more...? Four more? Three-
-UGH! Jazz choked as he took a violent blow to the back of the neck.
This disrupted his audio output and his ultrasound spat out.
-SHUT UP, AUTOBOT! The Decepticon who had attacked him grabbed him and pulled violently.
Jazz felt a sharp pain in his leg and head, as the Decepticon used him as a shield. He was one of the last conscious, with two others still recovering from the ultrasound.
-Do it Autobot! Fire!
The Decepticon spat, and Jazz reset his optics to look at Mirage, who was standing further away and aiming at them. But Mirage didn't dare shoot, not with Jazz in the way.
-SHOOT! Jazz ordered. Because if Mirage didn't do it right away, the other two would have time to get back into position, and he'd never make it three against one.
A flash of anguish passed through Mirage's eyes.
The next instant, he fired.
Jazz felt the tug across his abdomen, and the energon shot back into his mouth. Oh, shit... He'd expected it to hurt. He probably should have turned off all his sensors before it happened.
The good news, if you could call it good news, was that he collapsed. And he collapsed because the Decepticon holding him had also collapsed. Great.
[ALERT = EXCESSIVE POWER LOSS]
[SYSTEM SHUTDOWN]
Jazz should have seen it coming too.
He would have liked to say an encouraging word to Mirage but...Ah, unfortunately, his optics went out as did his audios. Then his processor effectively went into standby.
The Nemesis was morbidly silent.
Soundwave was in the control room, supervising the various teams as usual.
Until then, all was going well.
That was, until one of the teams managed to trap a group of autobots. A group that included Jazz.
Soundwave almost broke something. The urge ran through him, electrifying him from one end to the other, without him letting on.
He watched the screens, images filmed directly by Laserbeak, which was monitoring the scene in real time.
Jazz had escaped an explosion. He had managed to fight off several Decepticons without the slightest problem. Jazz was exceptional, and Soundwave expected nothing less from him.
Except that Jazz had been injured. And from the first scratches alone, Soundwave began to remember the name of every Decepticon in the field... And when one of them wounded him in the leg, he felt his fury grow even stronger. When another bastard hit him in the back of the head....oh, Soundwave almost hit the console. But he didn't.
He saw Jazz being taken as an hostage, and another autobot-Mirage, he worked for Jazz-shot at him.
Soundwave felt his processor sizzle, almost short-circuiting. He remained perfectly still, but behind his visor, his optics were murdered.
-Soundwave, report. Megatron ordered, coming up behind him.
-Delta Team: failure. Conflict with a group of autobots.
His voice remained neutral. Megatron didn't seem to notice his fury. Instead, he stared at the screens. They showed Mirage struggling with the last two conscious Decepticons in the group. But soon they were joined by reinforcements, and the two Decepticons had no choice but to flee.
-What's the status of our losses? Megatron asked.
-Delta Team: ten members. Confirmed dead: four. Unconscious: four, with the possibility of two of them deactivating as a result of their injuries.
-Details of autobot team?
-Group made up of: four people. Two of them: took advantage of a gap to escape and go for help.
Megatron said nothing, and Soundwave added no further information. He had nothing else to say.
There was no more visual on Jazz, Laserbeak had turned back to return to base. If Jazz was mortally injured... If he succumbed to his wounds... He would kill the two returning Decepticons. Then he'd kill Mirage. Then he'd blow up this planet.
Megatron's voice brought him out of his apocalyptic thoughts:
-You're telling me that ten of my proud soldiers were crushed by a group of four Autobots, two of whom didn't even make it to the end?
Oh. Soundwave almost savored his answer as he gave it:
-Response: affirmative.
-Are our two survivors on their way?
-They should be at Nemesis in an hour.
Megatron walked away:
-I'll take care to welcome them properly.
Soundwave simply nodded, relishing in advance the punishment these soldiers would receive. What's more, he would take care of recovering those trapped by the Autobots, only to give them a taste of what they had put his Jazz through.
... But for now...he would have to wait. Until Jazz was repatriated, examined and treated...
He felt his Spark tighten. He felt nauseous. He would try to contact Jazz within 24 hours. And if he didn't get an answer... Well, he still had Prowl's contact.
On the Ark, the good mood had lost its brightness. The anguish and waiting were long and slow.
Jazz had been in surgery for hours. There was no news from Ratchet. First Aid gave no information, dismissing those who came to the news and pleading that only the wounded were allowed into the infirmary.
Prowl was far from feeling well, even if he didn't show it. He, like the other officers and Optimus, had a duty to hold his head high, whatever the outcome of the operation.
Jazz HAD to survive, he had to.
But if he died...
Prowl tried to swallow his feelings, to hide them under a thousand layers of firewall, to keep them well buried or even potentially suppressed, to leave only a hard, implacable logic.
The Autobots couldn't afford to go under “just” for the loss of a soldier. Even if it was the second in command, even if it was the most beloved Autobot among them, even if it was literally a pillar of the army that was collapsing........
Prowl had to interrupt his thoughts, reset his vocalizer.
He couldn't breakdown. If anything happened...anything to Jazz...he'd be the one to become second in command. Him, or Ironhide. So neither of them had to crack.
Except that Ironhide had already cracked.
-ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
Prowl didn't flinch at the howl.
Nor did Optimus.
Mirage almost managed to keep a straight face, but without much success, his eyes struggling not to droop as he faced them.
In the background were Blurr and Bumblebee.
The Special Operations team, apart from Jazz, had been summoned as soon as they'd left the infirmary. And in Jazz's absence, it was Mirage who took command of the team, and therefore responsibility for reporting back.
If Optimus was sitting at his desk, Prowl was on his left and Ironhide on his right. Except that Ironhide had indeed just snapped, hitting the desk hard.
-You were in charge of reconnaissance! Ironhide accused. How could you have made a mistake between four and ten Decepticons? Your information was wrong!
Mirage remained silent, taking the blame without trying to defend himself.
Behind him, Bumblebee plucked up courage:
-The other Decepticons must have arrived shortly before we intervened.
-Or they were already there, but used camouflage technology. Blurr also intervened, anxious to defend his colleague.
Ironhide glared at them, and both Blurr and Bumblebee froze and lowered their heads.
-We know the Decepticons have technology like that! Ironhide continued. That should have been taken into account!
-It had been taken into account. Mirage retorted, though he tried not to sound too bitter. I scanned the area long and hard. There was no sign or mention of six other soldiers.
-So what, they just happened to pass by?!
-No, they... Mirage took a second to find his words. I think they wandered off on purpose. I shouldn't have been detectable, but maybe I was. They knew I'd be a scout and they played on that to set a trap for us.
Ironhide rolled his eyes:
-Of course, the good excuse! You, one of our best spies, detected so easily? Falling into a trap so easily?
-It won't happen again, sir...
-No, it won't happen again! We'll get you out of Specs Ops!
Mirage tensed.
Prowl intervened in a cold voice:
-It's not your decision to make, Ironhide.
Ironhide glared at Prowl:
-Because you're going to leave this guy on the team, after such a shady move?!
-It's a group decision. Prowl insisted. Prime and Jazz have their say.
-What if Jazz doesn't make it?!
The room fell dead silent.
Optimus breathed in:
-Ironhide, my friend. Calm down.
-Wh-... But Optimus!
-We're all still in shock. And Jazz's condition is by no means confirmed. As for Mirage, Prowl is right: dismissing Special Operations is not a decision to be taken lightly. Especially since, given the circumstances, Jazz would be the first to tell you that the mistake is in all of us.
Ironhide pounded his fist again:
-Not when it comes to THIS kind of mistake! Don't you find it suspicious? There's nothing “strange” about it to you?! Mirage makes a mistake on a report like this, leads one of our elite groups into a trap, and it's JAZZ, our second in command, who is mortally injured?
Ironhide turned back to Mirage, full of fury:
-By one of our blasters on top of that! Mirage lost his composure, his face betraying a glow of guilt.
Ironhide grumbled:
-It's nice to say that 'Jazz told you to shoot', but he can't confirm anything! You could have shot him and lied-
-Ironhide! Prowl raised his voice this time. Such accusations are not to be made ligh-
-Fuck you, Prowl! I didn't ask you!
This time Optimus stood up, forming a barrier between his two officers:
-That's enough.
He looked at Mirage, who had turned pale. But Optimus kept his gaze and his voice benevolent:
-A full investigation will be carried out. Mirage, Bumblebee, Blurr, you are suspended for the moment. Your priority is to rest. But even if the mission didn't go as planned, I know you did your best. And for that, I want to say: good job.
Ironhide grimaced. He was about to speak, but stopped when the Prime looked at him:
-And let's not forget that Jazz is in Ratchet's hands. Not to mention that we're talking about Jazz, and you know how stubborn he can be. I'm hopeful he'll pull through, and I'm praying to Primus to give him strength.
Optimus put his hand on Ironhide's shoulder:
-It's been a hard day, my friend. And it's only natural that you should be worried and angry. You and Prowl should get some rest for tonight. I'll be in charge of assigning the team that will investigate Mirage's report. Do you agree?
Ironhide gritted his teeth. He gave Mirage another look, before lowering his eyes:
-Yes, Prime.
Optimus nodded.
-Good, you're dismissed.
The Special Operations team nodded and left first, followed by Ironhide.
But just as Prowl was about to leave, Optimus called out to him:
-Prowl, may I see you for a moment?
Prowl stopped in the doorway, then turned back, letting the door close and leaving him alone with his leader.
-Yes, sir?
Optimus sat back down at his desk...and let out a deep, tired sigh:
-What's your analysis of the situation?
Prowl should have expected this question. He spoke in an automatic voice, having already made calculations beforehand:
-The fact that Mirage deliberately caused this mission to fail is only 28% certain. But given his reputation in our army and his noble origins, it's hardly surprising that Ironhide would hold him responsible.
-...Mirage has a very bad reputation, unfortunately. Optimus ran a hand over his face. I don't like to doubt my soldiers. I think Mirage is a brave robot. But maybe I'm letting my ideology blind me.
-I think... Prowl began, a little more awkwardly. ..that if Mirage was really a Decepticon supporter, then Jazz would never have included him in Special Operations. At least, not that much. Jazz trusts him enough to give him his own missions, send him on reconnaissance, follow his reports, and he's even appointed him as a replacement.
Optimus nodded:
-We agree. But I suppose there's a 'but'?
Prowl almost winced:
-But Jazz isn't infallible.
After all, he loves Soundwave.
-There's a 10% chance that Mirage has fooled him. 20% that Jazz has seen through his game and pretended to trust him by giving him responsibility.
Optimus squinted:
-...Jazz would doubt his second-in-command but not tell anyone?
Prowl would have liked to answer something like 'He would have told me or you!' Except that, once again, Jazz hadn't said anything about Soundwave. At this point, Jazz could be hiding anything else.
-It's doubtful, sir. But it is a possibility.
-May I leave the investigation to you, Prowl? You're much wiser than I am on this subject. I'm afraid I'm being too sentimental.
Prowl agreed:
-I'll take care of it.
-Thank you. I'm counting on you, my friend.
Prowl saluted him with a nod, before turning on his heels and leaving, returning to his office. He should have headed for his quarters, to rest at least a little before doing anything tonight. But he was too anxious to simply lie back and do nothing. He was unable to recharge at the moment, so he might as well be productive.
So Prowl went to his office and started gathering information. He had taken stock of Mirage's report, Bumblebee's and Blurr's, and had started looking at old reports, especially those where Mirage had also been suspected of sabotage.
Prowl felt like sighing.
It was always the same: Mirage's slightest mistake brought doubt upon him. But until now, there had always been Jazz to cover for him, take his side and protect him from prejudice and insults.
Jazz was the perfect alibi. So even if Mirage was a traitor, deliberately targeting Jazz would have been stupid.
Prowl massaged his temple, feeling his processor ache. He breathed in, letting the headache pass while he thought. Blurr and Bumblebee were also coming to Mirage's defense, and their reports were consistent with this.
To tell the truth, Prowl wondered whether the two Autobots hadn't deliberately omitted some details.
Sometimes little things just didn't make sense. It was nothing serious, but some mistakes were attributed to Blurr or Bumblebee or even Jazz... And Prowl was pretty sure it was a lie.
Mirage was probably making more mistakes than anyone realized, but since everyone seemed to want to blame him at every opportunity, other members of Spec Ops were reinventing some truths.
Prowl looked at the datapads again, compiling the information and searching for a detail that might or might not prove Mirage wasn't a traitor.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to prove either. There was plenty to suggest that Mirage was loyal to the Autobot cause. And there was plenty to cast doubt.
Prowl had nothing against Mirage, far from it. Mirage was one of their best spies, willing and motivated, never flinching, always ready to help. He was also brilliant. And above all, he was clearly a close friend of Jazz.
Let's just say that Prowl had more reason to doubt other robots. Or, even without 'doubting' their loyalty...let's say he did have a few Autobots in mind who were far less competent and willing than Mirage.
But this was no time for a witch-hunt, Prowl had to find concrete proof that the attack on Jazz had been planned or not. He couldn't leave any 'maybes' - the slightest doubt would bring Ironhide to his senses again.
His communicator suddenly indicated a new message... From an unknown contact.
With an air of déjà vu, Prowl opened the conversation:
Soundwave ::Request :need to talk::
Prowl pursed his lips. That was all he needed...
He was about to answer, but suddenly hesitated.
Soundwave was a Decepticon. Perhaps he'd have the answers he was looking for? Or had it been a trap all along? Soundwave had planned the attack, and was going to manipulate him with it?
Cautiously, Prowl replied:
Prowl ::I'm busy. And is this mailbox safe ?::
The answer came quickly:
Soundwave ::Soundwave: not an amateur. Message secured::
Soundwave :: Request : what is the status of Jazz?::
Prowl winced. He didn't know what to make of such a direct question. It could either be interpreted sarcastically, as 'ahah, so, you saw what we did to Jazz?', or it could be completely sincere and Soundwave was worried.
Imagining Soundwave 'worried' was a strange concept.
Prowl tried not to be too bitter when he answered, but in retrospect he realized that it was very hard to control:
Prowl ::You should know, your colleagues must have given you a report ::
Soundwave's reply took a little longer this time, and Prowl wondered if he'd hurt his feelings, or even offended him just a little?
Soundwave :: Response: affirmative. Soundwave: got the report. Added: Soundwave observed via Laserbeak ::
Prowl rolled his eyes. Obviously... He was about to reply something a little more sarcastic, but Soundwave cut him short:
Soundwave :: Soundwave: took care of them. Those Decepticons: should never have touched Jazz. Autobot Mirage: should never have touched Jazz ::
Prowl's eyes widened in astonishment. No, he hadn't expected that either. He recovered quickly and replied:
Prowl ::Mirage had another objective?::
Soundwave's reply betrayed his incomprehension:
Soundwave ::Soundwave: not understanding the request. Autobot Prowl: reformulate the request ?::
Prowl looked thoughtful:
Prowl :: Did Mirage have any other objective than injured Jazz?::
He waited patiently for the answer, which came soon after, with the same... A touch of incomprehension?
Soundwave ::Soundwave: ignore it. Autobot Prowl: best placed to answer. Autobot Mirage: under Autobot management::
...was this the confirmation Prowl was looking for? Confirmation that Mirage wasn't working for the Decepticons? It seemed almost too easy. Was Soundwave manipulating him?
Nevertheless, Soundwave quickly sent back a message:
Soundwave ::Autobots: having doubts about Autobot Mirage's loyalty? Autobot Mirage: traitor to your cause? ::
Prowl replied without thinking:
Prowl ::That's what I'm wondering::
Before Prowl could regret this impulse, Soundwave immediately retorted:
Soundwave ::Soundwave: can help with research. Autobot Mirage: will pay for injuring Jazz::
Prowl was stunned. He weighed up the pros and cons, not knowing whether he should be honest or not. Finally, he put his cards on the table:
Prowl ::Mirage's report about your Decepticon team was wrong. This led to our team being outnumbered, which caused the events that followed::
Soundwave must have taken the time to read and think about it, perhaps pulling out his own reports to check details, because he took longer to reply:
Soundwave ::Team Delta: initially composed of 10 members. However: team known as 'incapable'. Status closer to 'cannon fodder' than 'soldiers'::
Prowl grimaced again as he read this, but Soundwave continued:
Soundwave ::Delta team: tendency to avoid work. Soldiers: cover for each other not to do their jobs. Theory: Mirage report wrong because Decepticon soldiers: were not at their posts::
Prowl felt even more profoundly bewildered:
Prowl :: ...So Mirage made a mistake because your soldiers aren't doing their job properly?::
Soundwave was probably as annoyed as he was :
Soundwave ::Response: affirmative::
Prowl sighed as he closed his eyes, needing even more rest than he'd thought. He was going to have to take stock of all the reports concerning this 'delta team'. Unfortunately, he couldn't just put up the screenshots of his conversation with Soundwave for obvious reasons.
It was probably fatigue and stress, but again Prowl sent without thinking:
Prowl ::Thanks Soundwave::
He realized what he'd done and slapped his forehead. Damn it, Prowl, what are you playing at? This was the best way to foolishly lose the favor Soundwave had offered!
Soundwave's reply was not long in coming:
Soundwave ::Soundwave: not sure why Autobot Prowl thanks him. But thanks: accept::
Prowl tapped his desk, pondering his next words:
Prowl ::You've enlightened me on the situation. That's why I thank you::
He hesitated again, before adding:
Prowl ::You said Mirage would 'pay' for hurting Jazz. If you care about Jazz, I don't invite you to go there:
Prowl ::Jazz and Mirage are close. They're friends. If Mirage hurt him, it certainly wasn't on purpose. Your information confirms it::
He could almost guess Soundwave's anger when he received his next message:
Soundwave ::Request :invalid. Voluntary or not, Autobot Mirage : shouldn't have hurt Jazz::
Prowl said he felt anger, but deep down, that was just interpretation. And he was bad at interpreting emotions, whether his own or those of others. ... But he still had the impression that Soundwave was really worried and angry.
He let a few minutes go by, when neither he nor Soundwave sent anything to each other. Probably they both needed to digest the previous information... As well as this seemingly endless day.
And suddenly, another ping. From Ratchet. Prowl jumped at the notification::
Ratchet ::He's stable::
Three little words. Three simple little words were enough for all the pressure to leave Prowl's body, and he half collapsed in his armchair, feeling tears fill his optics.
-... Shit...
There was such relief in his voice. Even his Spark didn't seem to oppress him so much anymore, Prowl hadn't even realized how much his Spark had been hurting him until then. Primus, thank you....!
Prowl reopened the conversation with Soundwave:
Prowl ::Jazz is stable::
He didn't receive an immediate reply. But when he did, this time he could easily guess how relieved Soundwave must have been:
Soundwave ::Soundwave: grateful::
And Prowl felt himself smile. A weak, tired smile, but a real smile.
Chapter 8: Suspicion is proof of intelligence
Notes:
Hello everyone! This is chapter eight of “Logic leads Me to You”!
I was able to finish the illustration of the previous chapter as well as today's chapter, and I'm very happy about it!
Feel free to check out my social network links above ;)As usual, I hope you enjoy reading!
Chapter Text
Soundwave felt so relieved.
He was in his quarters, a narrow room for him and his tapes. But nevertheless one of the largest rooms on the Nemesis. He was sitting on his bunk, optics off, having just communicated with Prowl.
He'd just learned that jazz was stable, and just that...
-[::You okay boss?::]
Soundwave switched the optics back on, to look at Ravage who was lying next to him. Soundwave nodded.
-[::Response: affirmative::]
Ravage rested his head on his wearer's lap:
-[::Are you sure? You look troubled::]
Soundwave stroked his head.
-[::Jazz : stable::]
Ravage thought for a moment, then nodded:
-[::Okay. That's good news::]
Soundwave confirmed. He sensed agitation inside his frame, and naturally he opened it, ejecting Frenzy and Rumble who were fidgeting:
-Hey, how does it talk without us ! Rumble accused.
-Yeah, why does Rav always get all the important info? Frenzy continued.
Soundwave held back a sigh. But not his optical roll:
-Frenzy and Rumble: on the communication link. You too: hear the news.
The twins pouted at the same time, then crossed their arms sulkily. Rumble stamped his foot:
-You were talking to 'age! Not to us!
-Yeah, you can't do that! Frenzy confirmed.
Ravage gave them an annoyed look, then simply ignored them and closed his eyes, returning to his nap. Frenzy and Rumble leaned back on the bed, looking at their carrier:
-If Jazz is stable, can we see him soon? Frenzy asked.
-Will Prowl come too? Rumble grumbled.
Soundwave tilted his head:
-Request: why should Prowl come?
Frenzy shrugged:
-He's Jazz's friend.
Rumble frowned:
-But he's an enemy.
Ravage's voice was heard over the communication link:
-[::Jazz is also an enemy::]
Rumble glared at the panther:
-Shut up, 'age! There's a difference!
-[::You shut up. It just makes sense::]
Soundwave let out a growl this time:
-Ravage. Rumble: Order to calm down.
Rumble looked away, going off in his corner, while Ravage didn't care and just continued pretending to be asleep. Frenzy climbed onto the bed to stand next to his carrier:
-But what about Jazz? Will we see him soon?
Soundwave watched the little robot, and while his first hand was on Ravage's head, the second quickly patted Frenzy's head:
-Soundwave: don't know. Jazz: not yet online. But Autobot Prowl: able to find out for us.
Frenzy made a small, hesitant expression, then acquiesced, and rested his head against his wearer. This time he spoke through the link:
-[::All right::]
Soundwave would have liked to have stayed like this with them.
Unfortunately, his private communication sent him a notification, and he tensed.
Frenzy, Rumble and Ravage sensed this, and looked up at him.
Soundwave explained simply:
-[::Call from : Lord Megatron::]
The three tapes nodded and grew wise.
Soundwave answered:
-[::Lord Megatron::]
He greeted simply, and Megatron didn't waste any time making grand speeches:
-[::Soundwave. On the bridge, right away::]
The communication ended.
Once again, Soundwave could have sighed.
-Soundwave: summon to the bridge.
-Raaaaah, now? Rumble sulked. Can't we stay here?
-Yes, you can.
Ravage stepped aside to let his wearer up, but Frenzy remained clinging to his hand:
-I want to come!
Soundwave agreed and opened his frame. Frenzy leapt up and turned back into a cassette, disappearing into the frame.
Ravage seemed to hesitate, then stood up:
-[::I'm coming too::]
He leapt in turn, imitating Frenzy.
Rumble watched them do so and made an annoyed 'tss', before smirking, throwing himself onto the bunk:
-Have fun, I'm enjoying the bed!
Soundwave bellowed:
-Rumble: don't do anything stupid.
-I never do!
-Rumble: must not fight with the Seekers.
-They provoke me!
Soundwave patted the smaller boy on the head:
-Rumble: behave yourself. That's an order.
Rumble hiccupped, then puffed out his cheeks, and grabbed the blanket to hide underneath:
-I do what I want!
Soundwave was annoyed. He gave him a blasé look, before leaving the room and heading for the deck of the Nemesis.
Megatron waited patiently, hands clasped behind his back, looking through one of the windows at the vastness of the ocean stretching out before them.
The soldiers were careful to keep a safe distance. Their leader looked calm like this, but everyone knew the signs.
Just a few hours ago, two of them had returned from missions and... Let's just say Megatron had taken care to send them on 'enforced rest'.
Now their supreme leader was there, calm and silent, with his back to them.
It was like a ticking time bomb, tick it a little too much and it would go off before its time.
Soundwave detached itself from the other mechas, moving naturally towards Megatron without appearing to have the slightest fear.
The Decepticons looked at the carrier with a mixture of admiration and apprehension.
Soundwave was the only one not afraid of Megatron.
At least, he seemed to.
He looked untouchable, the favorite. Efficient and impassive.
Megatron didn't look back at Soundwave when he greeted him:
-So, Soundwave... he began, in his deep, husky voice. How's your little plan coming along?
Soundwave stopped next to its leader, but an indication of danger flashed through his program. He quickly ignored it.
-[::Boss...::] Ravage's voice contacted him [::your inbox hasn't been hacked, has it?::]
And this time, Frenzy's voice:
- [::Impossible! But...Lord megatron seems to suspect something::]
Soundwave didn't answer them. He concentrated on Megatron:
-Soundwave: contacted autobot Prowl.
He played it straight. He had no regrets when he saw his lord nod vaguely.
Megatron knew. Somehow, he had intercepted the messages.
-[::How??::] Frenzy nervously ask [::You're the master hacker boss! How did he get the messages?::]
Again, Soundwave didn't answer. He spoke to Megatron as if he didn't have his tapes rattling on their link.
-Soundwave: playing the empathy card. Autobot Prowl: close to autobot Jazz. If Soundwave gets involved: Autobot Prowl lets its guard down and trusts Soundwave.
-This seems coherent to me.
Megatron answered calmly, still without looking at him.
Soundwave tried not to let his nervousness get the better of him. The anxiety he sensed coming from Frenzy wasn't helping.
-Autobot Prowl: having confided that Autobots are wary of the Mirage autobot. Possibility of: playing on discord. Soundwave: confirmed to Prowl that Mirage was not working for us. However: Autobot Prowl cannot use this information to other Autobots without explaining that he is in contact with Soundwave.
-Mm...so we can make the Autobots doubt Mirage even more, and Prowl will want to prove that Mirage isn't a traitor.
-So Prowl: probably ask Soundwave for help. So: more confidence.
Megatron nodded again, apparently satisfied.
Soundwave was almost reassured... Until his leader slowly turned to him, a dangerous smirk on his face, his eyes sharp and piercing:
-And tell me Soundwave... What about Jazz?
Soundwave received another warning of danger. He felt Frenzy and Ravage becoming more agitated.
-Autobot Jazz: in stable condition. Soundwave: will send Laserbeak to find out more. Possibility: accentuate Mirage's doubt by making it seem as if he were deliberately targeting Jazz.
-...Mm.
Megatron continued to stare at him, intensely. Then he leaned over him, very slowly.
-Good. But that's not what I was asking.
Soundwave didn't move an inch, even when Megatron was close enough to his face. Even when his lord's hand vaguely caressed his shoulder and moved down to his frame. Even when the tips of his claws tapped where his cassettes were.
New danger warnings flooded his HUD. Soundwave owed his apparent calm entirely to his mask and visor.
Megatron's voice, despite the murmur, was very clear to hear:
-Do you think you'll be able to convince Jazz de Staniz... Prime's little lapdog... that spy pest... to join US ?
Megatron knew.
Soundwave didn't know where Megatron had gotten the information, how long he'd had it, but he knew. He knew that Jazz and Soundwave had something together. He knew that Soundwave's real objective wasn't Prowl, but Jazz.
He knew. From the beginning, probably.
-... Response: affirmative. Soundwave: persuasive.
Megatron's smile deepened:
-Of course, Soundwave. I trust you.
Icy terror swept through Soundwave as one of Megatron's claws scraped the glass of his frame. He could almost hear Frenzy hyperventilating, while Ravage had fallen silent in a most disturbing way.
Megatron straightened up:
-Don't disappoint me.
The obvious threat prompted Soundwave to reset his vocalizer:
-Yes, Lord Megatron.
-You may go.
Soundwave nodded, then turned around to return to his quarters.
Frenzy and Ravage were silent. But neither of them had calmed down.
They weren't the only ones in his frame: Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat, previously quietly asleep, were roused from their slumber by the agitation on their common link.
It's hard to ignore the anguish emanating from three of them, including the carrier.
-[::Boss?::] Laserbeak sent a worried ping, to which no one replied.
Soundwave wanted to reassure his tapes that all was well. Because everything would be fine, he would make sure of it.
But right now, he didn't trust his words. He needed to calm himself down before looking after his creations.
He had to revise his plan, but everything lined up correctly: Jazz was committed to the Autobot cause, and he needed a big blow to make him doubt himself and switch sides. What could be better than being betrayed by a friend?
Prowl had said it: Mirage and Jazz were close. If Mirage could pass for a traitor... If he could 'really' be a traitor... But not a traitor linked to the Decepticons. No.
It was perfect, even to get Prowl...
Soundwave was going to help Prowl prove that Mirage wasn't working for the Decepticons. Then the tables were turned: Mirage was indeed a traitor, but he was working for someone else!
Soundwave had to think of a credible scenario, something that would rattle the Autobots enough, rattle Jazz and Prowl enough to make them want to leave the Ark and join the Nemesis.
Soundwave could do it.
He had to do it.
It was no longer a question of having his lover on his side now... From now on, it was also a question of protecting his cassettes.
But of course, Soundwave couldn't simply take a moment for himself to think about his plan. That would have been asking too much. He should have guessed the chaos that would greet him when he reached the corridor leading to his room.
That chaos could be summed up in four words: Rumble and the Seekers.
-SHITTY BASTARD!
Starscream yelled as Rumble had just lifted him in the calmest of calm at arm's length.
Small didn't mean weak, and this wasn't the first time a transformer had demonstrated that!
Rumble swung Starscream against the wall, but in a show of solidarity - or perhaps bad luck - Thundercracker threw himself between his boss and the wall, cushioning the impact for Starscream... but finding himself stunned by the impact.
Rumble gave them a big, wry smile, which he lost as soon as Skywarp, the last of the trio, teleported behind him.
Rumble shrieked as he was knocked to the ground, and turned one of his arms into a pestle to strike a powerful blow into the Seeker's belly. Skywarp didn't even scream, but emitted a broken, painful sound that even made Soundwave wince behind his mask.
Rumble, proud to have pulled the big one out of the way, started to stand up, only to freeze when he saw Starscream pointing the barrel of his arm at him, and...
The shot rang out.
Starscream cried out in pain and immediately stepped back, holding his wounded arm. He turned, imitated by Rumble, to look at Soundwave with fury.
Soundwave holding his own weapon, still pointed at Starscream:
-Rumble: order to withdraw.
-But... The smaller man tried to defend himself.
-NOW.
Rumble flinched, his grimace clear. He leapt up and transformed himself into a cassette, falling neatly into the frame Soundwave had just opened.
Starscream clicked his tongue, as Thundercracker and Skywarp staggered to their feet, one with flayed wings - one of them bent at a painful angle - and the other holding his belly, from which a trickle of energon could be seen.
Starscream released his arm as if his pain were nothing, and immediately placed himself between Soundwave and the other two:
-Next time I see your fucking kid, I'm deactivating him! Starscream spat hatefully.
-Starscream: shouldn't make threats.
-You think I'm afraid of you, Sound-Wave?
He was careful to emphasize the syllables as he moved closer to him.
Starscream acted in part like Megatron: he wasn't afraid to stare, to get close, to try to intimidate. The difference was that Starscream had proved more than once that he was a coward, ready to flee when in danger. That, and the glaring difference in build, of course.
Starscream was much smaller, thinner. The only thing that helped his figure appear bigger and fatter were his wings... and any well-informed mecha knew that Seeker wings were a big weak point.
-Seekers: as immature as Rumble. Whereas Rumble: younger. All four of them: responsible for your constant bickering.
Soundwave then stated that he was the one who crossed the line this time, coming pretty close to Starscream, and Soundwave wasn't as tall as Megatron, but he was still slightly taller than Starscream.
This was enough for the Seeker to restrain himself from taking a step backwards, although he held his gaze:
-If Starscream: hurt Rumble, or any of the other Soundwave tapes...
Soundwave's visor seemed to light up, like a heat bomb about to explode:
-Soundwave: will rip Starscream's wings off, and take care to throw Starscream from a great, great height.
Starscream's jaw twitched as his engine emitted a muffled roar.
They stared at each other for another long minute. Neither wanted to back down.
Thundercracker finally approached timidly and laid a hand on Starscream's shoulder:
-Star, we've got to get 'warp to the infirmary.
Taken aback by this confrontation, Starscream turned his head towards his blue counterpart, then towards Skywarp who was leaning with difficulty against the wall, still with one hand on his stomach.
Starscream's face paled just for a moment, before he quickly recovered and looked again at Soundwave:
-We're not done.
He turned his back on Soundwave and walked towards Skywarp.
Soundwave stared at them, from the moment Starscream and Thundercracker helped Skywarp to lean on them, to the moment they disappeared around the corner.
Soundwave waited again, to make sure all danger had passed, then turned to his room, calmly stepped inside...and closed the door much less calmly, locking it immediately.
This time, he let out a feverish gasp, feeling his hands trembling.
He opened his frame, ejecting all his cassettes without a second thought.
He didn't usually do this; as he'd said earlier, the room was too cramped for them all to live in. Yet, as soon as the tapes were transformed, Soundwave's first reflex was to grab Rumble, forcefully.
The little boy yelped, somewhere between frightened and outraged, and froze when Soundwave, now on his knees, pulled him close.
-...b-boss? Rumble stammered.
-Rumble: never do that again.
-But they're the ones...
-NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!
The cassettes gasped, Rumble first.
Soundwave rarely raised its voice. Least of all against them.
Ravage's voice came softly over the link:
-[::Rumble's okay, boss::]
Soundwave didn't answer. He held Rumble close, unable to let go.
Rumble didn't dare move at all, worried about responding to the embrace. But all the tapes sensed how disturbed their wearer was.
Frenzy approached shyly, and dared to hug his brother and his carrier:
-[::Rumble, we told you to behave::]
He accused, but his voice was trembling. Rumble closed his eyes, also deciding to speak on the link:
-[::I sensed your panic. I wanted to join you...I...was afraid we were going to hurt you::]
He growled almost immediately:
-[::And I ran into the three bastards, and Starbitch insulted the boss, and...!::]
Ratbat flew over them, and landed on one of Soundwave's shoulders, coming to snuggle with him:
-[::Starscream is mean, you know he insults everyone all the time::]
Buzzsaw and Laserbeak joined in, one on Soundwave's other shoulder and the second resting on his helmet:
-[::You can't fight them alone!::]
-[:: But next time we see them, we'll slaughter them all together!::]
Rumble chuckled aloud. It sounded like a good plan.
But he lost his brief amusement, and this time he dared a gesture, pushing Soundwave back a little to get a better look at him.
Soundwave barely released him, but agreed to straighten up so they could see each other.
-Then... Rumble grumbled. What happened with Lord Megatron?
Frenzy grabbed his twin's hand, causing Rumble to gasp.
Rumble was about to berate his brother for this far too gentle gesture between them, but fell silent when he saw that his twin was staring at the ground. His field expressed fear, and the link reflected biting dread.
Soundwave replied:
-Lord Megatron: wait for Soundwave's results. He has.... made it clear that failure is not acceptable.
Rumble broke down:
-Did he threaten you?!
Ravage stepped forward and came to rub his head against Rumble's other arm:
-He implied. Ravage looked at Soundwave, and the two exchanged an anxious, perplexed glance. He knows about Jazz. How does he know?
Soundwave reviewed many possibilities, but two seemed obvious:
-Shockwave: often watches Soundwave. Probably: intercepted certain communications.
-I don't like him! Ratbat groaned, hiding his face in his wings. It had to be said that he hadn't appreciated Shockawave's request to dissect him once.
-Shockwave: probably one of the best at hacking communications. Soundwave: needs to rethink its security programs.
Ravage tilted his head:
-But that's not all, is it?
-... Soundwave felt a dull frustration growing inside him. Soundwave: may have been seen with Jazz. Rendezvous: supposed to be secret. But Soundwave: must have been careless.
Laserbeak rubbed his head against his wearer's helmet:
-Is it really serious? Lord Megatron knows we're loyal to him.
-Lord Megatron: isn't stupid. Suspicion: proof of intelligence. Anyway: Soundwave and Megatron have: common goals.
-Convince Prowl and Jazz to join us.
-Response: affirmative.
Rumble felt awkward about the situation. He was the least cuddly of the group, so to find himself in front of his carrier and the two gliders snuggling up to him, while Frenzy and Ravage were busy holding his own hands... It made him nervous. And as much as he wanted to make the effort not to pull away, he finally snapped, and released his hands from their contacts to cross his arms.
Fortunately, none of his brothers seemed to mind. Rumble resumed his loud, annoyed tone:
-Okay, so what's the plan now?
Soundwave also regained his composure. The cuddly moment was over, and everyone straightened up in earnest, ready for action.
Chapter 9: Taking ʀɪsᴋs
Notes:
It's been a bit of a rush to translate this chapter, and once again I haven't had the time to finish the illustration in time. I'm conscious that I've taken a bad rhythm in my organization. So I won't be posting a chapter next Wednesday, in order to take the time to get on with the illustrations and the translation of the next chapters!
I apologize for the delay, and we'll meet again on Wednesday June 11 for the next chapter :)
Thank you for your understanding!
Chapter Text
He felt the need to throw up.
It was the first thing, the very first thing, that he felt.
An urge to throw up, like when you've had a very violent fall. That, and then the burning sensation, as if his armour was on fire. It started in his stomach and slowly worked its way down his body.
He couldn't move. He felt heavy, disorientated. But what he hated most was the total absence of information about his environment.
His optics were off, everything was black. His hearing was also off, he couldn't hear anything. All he could hear was the sound of his own thoughts.
His HUD slowly started up again. The programme was taking time to restart. Even the memory bank was too slow to provide him with information about his last recorded situation.
Jazz slowly reviewed the situation.
He'd been knocked out. It wasn't the first time, but it was rarely so violent.
He'd sent Mirage to do some reconnaissance. Decepticons had been spotted in the forest area, so Special Operations had been there.
They'd been outnumbered...
Chaos ensued.
Jazz had fought back... and asked Mirage to shoot him.
Mirage.
Jazz forced the system reboot to accelerate. He needed... His senses, or at least his communications! Was Mirage all right? Had he pulled through? Blurr and Bumblebee, how were they? Had they been able to flee as he thought, to seek help?
His HUD was frustrating him, being so slow. Why was it so slow?
The sensations in his body intensified. He became aware of his body parts, every one of them, right down to his fingers.
Jazz fidgeted a little, closed his fist slowly. Oh. Yes, it was coming back to him, everything was coming back to him. He ignored the nausea, pushed on his systems again, heard a crackle in his ear canals, followed by a...
-Jazz, you stupid idiot, stop that right now! Ratchet's gruff voice shouted at him and he felt a tap on his helmet.
God, that felt so good. He felt a huge grin spread across his face as his optics rebooted, his vision changing from black to blurred, coloured shapes.
-Hi Ratch...! He said in a hoarse voice, his optics gradually coming into focus.
The doctor's angry face made him laugh, although it was painful. Damn, it was good to be home.
Ratchet grumbled and groped Jazz's body, checking the cables and tubes connected here and there to his body:
-There's no such thing as 'hi Ratch'! I've already told you! You're not supposed to force a reboot!
Jazz chuckled:
-You know me, I'm impatient.
-And still in bad condition. I didn't keep you alive for hours in surgery, only for you to die when you woke up!
Jazz gave him a smaller, somewhat sorry smile:
-... You saved my life.
-Shut up, don't take that grateful tone, I'm just doing my job.
-Thanks, Ratchet.
Ratchet's gaze wavered. He looked at Jazz, losing some of that grumpy look.
Jazz's vision was sharper, and he noticed the doctor's tired, drawn features more clearly.
Ratchet blew out his breath and patted him on the arm:
-It's good to see you, kid. You gave us quite a scare.
Jazz nodded, then let Ratchet continue to inspect and check his data. However, Jazz couldn't remain in the dark:
-Where's my team?
Ratchet didn't take his eyes off the screen:
-Everyone's fine. You're the one who was hit the hardest.
-Good.
This time, Ratchet looked at him:
-'Good'? No, not 'good'! I don't believe it, what sane person asks to be shot?
-I had no choice, we'd have lost our advantage otherwise.
-Tss, you deserve to be sent to a cell. Maybe a prison will stop you from stupidly putting yourself in danger.
Jazz laughed:
-Oh, you know me. Nothing can keep me locked up for long~.
Jazz looked around as best he could, which wasn't made any easier by the many cables. This was one of the reasons why he hated being in the infirmary: he felt trapped there, diminished. Being hooked up to medical equipment in this way was a handicap, and he couldn't wait to be free to move around.
Jazz noticed that he wasn't in the main room of the infirmary, but in a separate room. The kind of room where they put the most seriously injured to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed.
Yep, obviously he'd almost died there.
Jazz spoke again:
-Did I...
-No.
Jazz blinked and looked at Ratchet again:
-But I haven't even finished my...
-No, you can't go out today, or tomorrow, and no, you can't go and 'rest' in your quarters, because we both know that 'rest' isn't in your vocabulary, even if you're trying to make us believe the opposite.
Ratchet glared at Jazz, who remained silent. OK. The doctor knew him too well and had answered all his questions.
Except for one:
-...and am I allowed visitors?
Ratchet grinned, giving it some serious thought:
-... Only if it doesn't stress you out, and if no moron has the bad idea of helping you out! I want you to get some rest. You're on leave until further notice.
-Awn, Ratch, thanks for your concern, but I'm fine! I feel better already!
-I'm the doctor. I know when you're feeling better.
Except Ratchet pursed his lips, visibly anxious as he continued to stare at Jazz.
The spy lost his smile:
-It's not just my health the problem.
Ratchet made a 'tss' and looked away:
-Stop being so perceptive. For everyone's sake.
-I can't do that. ‘Perceptive' is my middle name. Jazz joked but quickly pulled himself together. So, what's going on?
Ratchet rubbed the bridge of his nose:
-No, listen, Jazz, I'm... he sighed. I'm really tired. I don't want to have to deal with this. Look, I just want you to rest, please. Just lie there, don't move, don't stress.
-You know that saying that just makes me want to get up and go and find out more, don't you?
Ratchet rolled his eyes, then looked at him:
-I know. Let me at least... Rah... Just let me talk to Optimus. Give me an hour.
-30 minutes.
Ratchet grunted but relented:
-30 minutes... And you promise you won't run away.
Jazz hesitated, but in front of Ratchet's gaze, and especially seeing the mecha so tired and on the verge of going into standby just like that, Jazz agreed:
-OK, I promise.
Ratchet nodded, then quickly left the room, leaving Jazz alone with his thoughts.
What could be so serious that Ratchet would make him promise? Why wouldn't he want to tell him straight away, or at least not by himself?
Ratchet had confirmed that his team was fine. So what was the problem?
He squinted. He had a bad feeling.
Damn. He'd asked Mirage to shoot him, after realising that Mirage's report was wrong.
Jazz wanted to slap his forehead, already guessing what kind of problem there might have been while he was unconscious.
He counted every minute that passed, and it was after exactly 28 minutes and 30 seconds that the knock on his bedroom door came without waiting for his reply and.... Jazz felt his spark warm up at the sight of Prowl, who cautiously entered the room, before seeming to light up when he saw that Jazz was looking at him.
-Hey. Prowl waved softly as he closed the door behind him.
-Hey...! Jazz smiled at him, feeling that Prowl's presence alone was enough to reassure him.
Prowl approached the medical bunk and, although he tried to look confident, Jazz noticed the slight movement of his door wings and the worried glint in his eyes as he observed the spy's condition.
Prowl finally returned his gaze to the visor:
-How are you feeling?
Jazz laughs:
-Like a can of Coke that's been shaken and opened.
-.... I'm... I'm not sure I get the picture.
-You don't hang out with humans enough, mech.
Prowl sighed frankly, more for form's sake than anything else. He was just so relieved to see Jazz awake and cracking jokes.
-If you've got your sense of humour back, then you must be fine.
-I'm alive, at least!
Prowl flinched slightly at this statement. It certainly didn't go unnoticed by Jazz, but he didn't say anything.
-So tell me... Jazz began. I'm really very happy to see you, really! But if Ratchet sent you, there must be a reason.
Prowl nodded:
-Yes. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to control you if he told you. But I think he's already told you too much, so there's no point in hiding it any longer.
-Ahah, that's what I like about you, you get straight to the point! So tell me, what's the problem with Mirage?
Prowl blurted out his surprise at the question, before giving a little pout and returning to his impassive self:
-You're too perceptive.
-Funny, I get that a lot!
This drew a small smile from Prowl. But once again, his serious look quickly returned:
-Ironhide thinks Mirage is a traitor.
-Okay... Nothing new there.
-He wants him out of Special Operations.
-WHAT?!
Jazz started to stand up by reflex.
Prowl put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
Jazz wasn't laughing at all now, his jaw set. He struggled to keep his tone even and not simply shout:
-I'm the only one who decides that.
-In fact, the whole High Command decides that.
-I'm the head of Special Operations, it's MY responsibility.
-But it's about the well-being of all Autobots.
-Because you agree with Hide?
Prowl rarely saw Jazz this angry. As a rule, he always took great care to maintain his relaxed attitude, even in crisis situations. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.
So this was really weird. Different.
Prowl didn't know the right word to put on it, but seeing this kind of side to Jazz was... something.
-No. I'm in favor of giving him the benefit of the doubt until a thorough investigation has been carried out.
-And who's in charge of the investigation?
-Me.
Jazz fell silent. He stared at Prowl, hard, and Prowl stared back at him....
Without saying a word, Prowl stared around them. Really hard. As if looking for... Someone around them? That there was someone with them?
Oh. Oh!!
Jazz concentrated on his HUD. A long silence followed, just long enough to touch a few programs and... Jazz nodded:
-It's okay, the room is soundproof. And Red Alert doesn't have any cameras here.
Prowl didn't hide his relief.
-Perfect.
-So...?
Prowl made a dejected expression:
-So Mirage is obviously not a traitor. He makes mistakes, like everyone else. And in this case, I've had confirmation that his report on the Decepticons was not his fault.
-... Ah?
-Soundwave contacted me.
Jazz shuddered:
-Again?
-He wanted to know how you were, he was... Worried?
Jazz was surprised. Soundwave, worried? About himself?
Surprise aside, a new warmth took hold of him. If he hadn't controlled himself better, he'd surely have blushed.
-Ah... Ahah, yeah, ok! Of course, Sound can be so cute when he gets down to it~ the big-hearted bad guy type eh! He said in jest, but it really touched him.
Prowl could see just how much the news meant to Jazz. It was sweet to see him so happy. Even if it caused Prowl a painful twinge.
He continued:
-That's not all. We discussed the situation, and he assured me that Mirage wasn't working with them. In fact, the Decepticons you attacked are, well...lazy. Mirage's reports were false, simply because the enemies weren't at their posts.
Jazz's expression was never more blasé than at that moment:
-... That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life. And I often hang out with Blaster!
-... It's harsh on Blaster.
-Because it's not true, maybe?
-I thought you'd say Wheeljack.
-What, Wheeljack! That's... Jazz thinks. ... It's accurate, actually. OK, let's say, Blaster AND Wheeljack.
The two stared at each other so seriously after saying that. A seriousness that was so quickly broken when the two Autobots laughed in spite of themselves. Damn, if their comrades could hear them!
Jazz shook his head, trying to refocus, even though he was still smiling:
-Okay, yeah, so... Mirage is innocent, except we can't prove it with Soundwave's testimony.
-Right. I was looking for another way when we called to come here.
-Oh, and... you found a solution?
Prowl shook his head:
-Nothing concrete enough. I do have some old reports to prove that these Decepticons aren't doing their job properly. But that won't mean anything to Ironhide and the other sceptics of Mirage.
-Mm...I can always hack the Decepticons' communications, there's bound to be some interesting exchanges.
-Why not ask Soundwave directly?
Jazz laughed:
-Because it's less fun?
-You need to rest, Jazz.
-I'm fine, I rested during the operation! I've got to get back to work-
-Jazz.
Prowl interrupted in a weaker voice:
-... Please. Special operations are put on hold until further notice. Mirage is safe until I complete the investigation. We have several days ahead of us. There's no hurry. So...please rest.
Jazz pressed his lips together. He didn't like this. He didn't like Prowl giving him such a look, so trembling. He didn't like Prowl's hesitant expression! It just made him want to straighten up, give him a hug, make jokes to get another smile out of him...
-... Are you sure you'll be okay with 'rage?
-Yes, I'm sure. If anyone messes with him, they'll be messing with me. And Optimus. And Ratchet.
-And Blurr and Bee.
Prowl shakes his head:
-Yes. And Blurr and Bee.
Jazz still seemed torn. But in the end, he gave up and let himself go on the bed.
-Pff, yes, Ok... I accept this forced vacation. But it's only because of your beautiful optics, mech!
At least he managed to wring a blush from Prowl, who rolled his eyes:
-I should ask Ratchet to put you on mute, you talk too much nonsense.
-Awn, you'd miss my voice too much!
-That's true.
The honesty of the answer surprised them both, and Prowl's blush deepened, while Jazz was almost blushing too, his spark beating harder.
-Right, well, anyway. Prowl cleared his throat. I've got to get back to work. But I'll come and see you again. he hesitated. ... If you want?
-Sure! Jazz answered rather quickly, fearing the other would change his mind. You can drop by any time, of course, with pleasure!
Prowl nodded shyly:
-Fine, I'll do that.
Jazz stopped him before he could leave:
-Wait! Uh, Blurr and Bee? And 'rage? Can they come and see me too?
Prowl wasn't sure, especially given the current situation:
-I should be able to give them permission, but I can't guarantee anything.
-OK... Thanks, Prowler.
-You're welcome. And, uh... My line stays open. If you need anything.
Jazz gave him a bigger smile.
-Yeah, okay. That's...really, thank you.
It was so awkward, but so sweet. Prowl dropped another of his rare smiles:
-That's normal... Among friends.
He waved, then left the room.
Jazz could still feel his spark pulsing.
Yeah...Between friends, yeah.
He closed his eyes, feeling the need to digest the warm sensation that had invaded his whole body.
Prowl returned to his office after informing Ratchet that he was finished with his visit.
He settled down with his files, picking up where he'd left off with the Mirage investigation. The last thing he wanted was for Jazz to get back to work too quickly. If Prowl managed to make good enough progress on the case, or even finish it, Jazz wouldn't have to do anything, and that would be a very good point.
In any case, there was no point wasting time on futile battles. It was necessary to build a solid case that Ironhide wouldn't be able to refute, even with all the bad faith in the world.
This was already making Prowl sigh. It was all such a waste of time...
Tightening his lips as he read the report in front of him, he inwardly grumbled.
Asking Soundwave directly for information would bring the case to a swifter conclusion, and there was a 90% chance he'd have the right information to silence Mirage's suspicions. Or at least part of it.
But Jazz didn't want to ask Soundwave for help. Supposedly because it was more fun to hack into the Decepticon database, but Prowl wondered if it wasn't more a question of ego, and Prowl was in no position to judge the egos of others; he himself had a very misplaced pride.
Prowl weighed up the pros and cons. Would asking Soundwave for information himself count as using up the debt he owed him? Or would Soundwave not count it as doing Jazz a favor? After all, Prowl had told him: Mirage was Jazz's friend.
Mm... Prowl could indeed play on that. He still had trouble defining how sentimental and sincere Soundwave could be with Jazz, but there was a 50% chance that he would be sensitive to Jazz's entourage and therefore agree to help.
The thing was, Prowl had to find a way to contact Soundwave without attracting attention.
Going through communications was risky. Prowl didn't have the skills of Jazz or Soundwave, and he wouldn't be able to communicate as stealthily as they did, and with the same level of security. Knowing that Blaster could be listening in, or any other spy... The risk of being caught out was 95%.
He could wait for Soundwave to contact him again; there was a 70% chance of that, with Jazz still recovering. The carrier would surely want to hear from him again - always on the assumption that he really cared about Jazz.
However, Prowl didn't like the idea of having to wait for someone else to make the first move. Waiting for others to act, in a context where the chances were less than 90%, put him in too high a state of doubt. Prowl preferred to do things himself rather than wait for others.
But that meant taking risks.
Prowl was used to taking risks and having to defend his hypotheses, and it regularly happened that his plans were not appreciated by others. The problem here was that if anyone found out he'd contacted Soundwave, it could rebound on Jazz and Mirage. This was completely counterproductive.
Prowl took advantage of being alone to sigh loudly, and put the Mirage file aside.
There was no point in dwelling on it now.
He'd wait 24 hours to see if Soundwave contacted him, and if it didn't, he'd find another solution.
In the meantime, he could take care of other things, like seeing if Ratchet and Optimus would allow Jazz to have visitors.
If it were up to Prowl, he'd have allowed it by now. Optimus would surely agree.
The problem was that Ironhide would take a dim view of him, and so would Red Alert. Because Jazz had again taken ill-considered risks and deserved to be punished for it, because it wouldn't be the first time Jazz had tricked someone into sneaking out of the infirmary - much to Ratchet's chagrin - and because clearly Mirage wouldn't be welcome with the investigation hanging over his head.
In short, more laughable problems.
Prowl often wished that their only problem was the Decepticons, but all Autobots were beings with reasons and emotions, so internal conflicts were abundant -often ridiculous compared to the war they were facing . And that's not counting the problems they could have with humans.
Prowl wrote a message for Optimus and Ratchet, putting them both on the same conversation so that they were all on the same line. He clearly emphasized Jazz's request for a visit, and while waiting for the other two to reply, he took care of other pending files.
Prowl liked to optimize his time; he always had something to do. Organizing, elaborating, calculating... nothing was left to chance, even his breaks - when he decided to take them.
He immersed himself in several hours of uninterrupted work, allowing him not to think about his own worries about Jazz.
Time passed, so that night fell, and Prowl realized that no one had come to see him to urge him to take a break, or even to stop his day's work in time. Probably because it was usually Jazz who did it... But today he wasn't up to it.
Taken out of his work by this realization, Prowl watched the datapads on his desk with a haggard eye.
He hated it. It was the main reason why he didn't like to interrupt himself: afterwards, it was difficult to regain the same level of concentration.
He sighed and stood up, thinking it was time to go to bed...
Before he received a message from an unknown person.
His door swung open, his processor alert again as he raced to the notification.
??? :: Autobot Prowl : Greetings ::
It was definitely Soundwave, and Prowl almost smiled. Before realizing it was weird.
No, he wasn't 'happy' to see Soundwave, not because it was Soundwave anyway! He was just happy to have the opportunity to move forward with the investigation as he wished.
Prowl :: Good evening Soundwave ::
Prowl :: I assume this is a secure messaging system::
Soundwave :: Answer : Affirmative ::
It was always good to check, but Prowl was delighted to have confirmation.
He sat back down at his desk, immediately following up:
Prowl :: Jazz is fine. He woke up earlier in the day and has enough energy to make stupid jokes ::
Prowl hadn't waited to be questioned, not wishing to waste time... but assuming that Soundwave really cared about Jazz...perhaps he should have been more gentle? More tactful? Was he being tactless here, or was it the right thing to do? After all, as long as he was delivering good news, who cared how it was said? - Prowl knew this wasn't the case, which was why he usually entrusted the management of social relations to people more competent in this field than himself.
Soundwave's reply did not allow him to know whether or not he had taken it well:
Soundwave :: News : appreciable ::
Well, at least there were two of them who were very bad at conversation.
Prowl decided to continue in the voice of not beating around the bush:
Prowl :: What would also be appreciable would be for you to send me reports about the decepticon team that confronted Jazz ::
There was a 50% chance that going about it in such a frontal manner would allow Prowl to get what he wanted without ruining the debt Soundwave owed him.
...And there was a 50% chance that Soundwave would want to use its debt for that.
No, in fact, after recalculation, there was a 33.3% chance that direct confrontation would work without a hitch, 33.3% that it would wear out his debt, and 33.3% that Soundwave wouldn't respond to his request at all because it might disadvantage the decepticon or even because he seemed to have a grudge against Mirage.
Soundwave :: Answer: affirmative. Soundwave: will gather the necessary information. Possibility: to meet Autobot Prowl at the same place as last time, tomorrow at : 0130 ? ::
Prowl blinked.
Eu....What?
Prowl :: That works for me ::
He had answered without thinking, before regretting it and telling himself he should have thought harder.
But the opportunity seemed too good.
...
It even seemed TOO easy.
Was this a trap? Did he have to warn Jazz? No, there was a 95% chance that Jazz would want to accompany him, which was out of the question, but... !
Soundwave :: Soundwave: enjoy the direct approach of Autobot Prowl ::
Prowl bugged again, opening his eyes wide.
It was a good thing he was alone, because he had no control over his facial expression or the reactions of his door wings.
Prowl :: I don't have time to waste rambling ::
Prowl :: See you tomorrow, Soundwave ::
Prowl cut the conversation short before it slipped too far.
...
But he should sincerely think about taking precautions for tomorrow. Just in case.
Chapter 10: Being in 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓋𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓈𝒸ℯ𝓃𝒸ℯ
Notes:
Welcome to another chapter of “Logic leads Me to You”!
A chapter longer than the last one (5800 words here compared to 4200 for the previous chapter), I don't think I'll be posting chapters of this length every time but we'll continue to hover around 4000 words minimum!
Enjoy your reading ;)
Chapter Text
If there was one person Blaster didn't like, it was Prowl.
The tactician was such a cold, unsympathetic person. Blaster found it hard to imagine how Jazz could be the slightest bit interested in him. Sometimes, he wished he could enter his friend's processor, just to try and see the world through his eyes and understand what he could see.
Maybe this way, Blaster wouldn't be so apprehensive about approaching Prowl, just as he was about to enter in his office. A new day was just beginning and the tactician was already on his toes, which was why Blaster had rushed to find him before he got down to work.
-Hey, Prowl!
He greeted him at the end of the corridor and quickened his pace when he saw the tactician stop and question him with his eyes.
They may both be members of the High Command, but there was still a wall between them. Prowl, like Jazz and Ironhide, were not just officers, but High Officers, the closest circle to the Prime. That was no mean feat!
Even if Jazz was still far more affordable than Prowl or Ironhide.
-Blaster. Prowl greeted him with a simple nod. What do you want?
Not even polite questions like 'How are you?'. Well, Blaster had expected it, Prowl wasn't the type to get lost in small talk.
-I wanted to know, is it possible to see Jazzman in the infirmary?
Prowl said nothing, but the calculations flowed into his processor. It was true that he had asked for Special Operations, but he hadn't considered Blaster. It had to be said that Blaster was probably less likely to be accepted than the others because, although he was an officer, he was also known to be Jazz's best friend, and therefore the most likely to help him escape from the infirmary.
-I'll pass your request to Optimus and Ratchet.
Prowl simply replied after a few seconds, not needing too long to think it over.
This drew a pout from Blaster:
-Seriously? You can't authorize me?
-The infirmary isn't under my direct authority.
-Pff, yeah, logical I suppose.
Prowl restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the bot's disgruntled expression, and decided to simply go to his office, before a thought crossed his mind.
He turned back to Blaster:
-I have to visit him today. Do you know what would please him?
Blaster's pout turned to surprise, his optics raised as he tilted his head in thought:
-There's few things that wouldn't make him happy. But I will say... he smiles. Bring him some sweets, he'll be delighted~
-What kind of sweets?
Blaster wondered again. He knew Prowl was methodical, but was he also methodical about this sort of thing? It could almost sound cute coming from someone else. But this was Prowl, so the carrier wasn't sure what to think.
-Mm... He likes the cobalt-based ones, otherwise chrome is a safe bet!
Prowl nodded:
-Okay, thanks. I will repay you.
-Cool.
Prowl disappeared into his office.
Blaster turned to leave...before glitching and suddenly stopping.
U....... Prowl had just thanked him for his advice? .........Prowl would ''repay'' him?
Blaster looked back at the desk with wide, bewildered eyes. Okay, he wasn't prepared for this.
Prowl had only just settled down at his desk when he saw a reply from Optimus and Ratchet.
He had requested that Jazz be visited by Mirage, Blurr and Bee, but as he had feared, the request had been refused. The risk of one of these three being influenced by Jazz was too high.
And now Prowl had to apply on Blaster's behalf...
This made him sigh as he pondered, before he heard the knock.
-Come in.
He promptly invited the newcomer in, taking his eyes off his computer.
The door opened on Mirage.
Prowl was only slightly surprised. With all that was going on, he had estimated a 70% chance of the nobleman visiting him.
The door closed automatically as Mirage stepped up to the desk:
-Morning Prowl.
-Morning, Mirage. How can I help you?
Mirage sat down politely, with his usual elegance and polite smile:
-I wanted to know if I was allowed to visit Jazz.
Ugh, of course.
Prowl joined his hands on the desk:
-I've already made a request, which was refused. Jazz is only allowed visits from High Officers.
Mirage's smile barely faltered. He nodded:
-I expected that. Am I... at least allowed to know his condition?
-He's recovering, but he needs rest.
Ratchet had said it enough times for everyone to remember, and Prowl agreed with him.
Mirage didn't seem fully satisfied with the answer, although he nodded again wisely, not wishing to make a fuss. It wasn't as if Mirage could really afford to get angry and demand a full explanation. If others weren't afraid to do so, in the nobleman's case it was immediately more delicate, given how quickly they wanted to charge him with all the faults in the world.
Mirage then stood up, determined not to waste Prowl's time:
-Thank you, I'll be going now.
Prowl greeted him in return and watched him begin to move towards the door. But just as he was about to open it, he spoke without thinking:
-Wait.
Mirage obeyed, stopping and turning back to the officer with a slightly surprised look on his face.
Prowl kept a professional air, although inwardly he cursed himself for having reacted emotionally.
Nevertheless, he kept a straight face:
- I think we can arrange that.
Prowl could have sighed. He really did have a talent for getting into trouble...all for Jazz.
Jazz really hated doing nothing.
To make matters worse, Ratchet had managed to block the network in this room specifically. He'd obviously enlisted Wheeljack's help for this. All this so Jazz wouldn't have any fun wandering around illegal networks, hacking into Decepticon services, working on his projects remotely or talking to other people to ask for services...
Pfft. He really had to be careful never to hurt himself again.
So it was in deadly boredom that Jazz stared at the ceiling.
Fortunately, he had his internal playlist, which he could play on his private audios, to keep his mind occupied. But it wasn't enough. Not when he knew Mirage was threatened out there and he had to help.
Jazz was still grumbling inwardly... when he caught, out of the corner of his eye, the door opening.
All by itself.
Or so it seemed.
Jazz let out a smile and turned off the music, watching the door close ‘all by itself’ once again.
Jazz leaned on his elbows, straightening up just a little:
-Hey 'rage~
A holographic fog sizzled, then dissipated, effectively revealing Mirage close to the bunk. He wore a very faint smile:
-Hello, Jazz. How are you?
-Operational, ready to get back in the field and take care of Megatron myself!
Mirage shook his head in amusement:
-Ratchet says you won't be properly recovered until a week from now.
-Ratchet acts like a paranoid creator, gaga over his little sparks!
-He's worried about you, just like the rest of us.
Jazz sighed:
-And it's cool mech, really, but I feel great.
Mirage looked at him. Then lowered his gaze to observe his abdomen. The armor had been carefully reconstituted, and not even a small scar remained from the gaping hole 48 hours ago.
-...You tend to ignore your own limitations.
Jazz looked up at Mirage when he heard him. His second-in-command was no longer looking him in the eye. Jazz pressed his lips together in a thin, worried line. He reached out, taking Mirage's hand:
-Hey, 'rage. It's not your fault.
-I shot you.
-I gave you the order.
-My report contained errors. I should have been more careful.
Jazz rolled his eyes:
-I'd worry more if you never made a mistake. Hey, I'm the best spy here! What happens when you're perfect 24 hours a day?
Mirage shook his hand in return, without even cracking a smile:
-I'm not kidding, Jazz. It could have ended badly this time.
-Like all the other times.
Jazz tugged a little on his hand:
-Mirage...
The other looked away a little more.
Jazz insisted:
-Mirage, look at me.
Mirage hesitated. He finally took a breath, then looked at his superior...and jumped when Jazz's visor retracted, revealing his clear blue optics, full of seriousness, but also consideration for him:
-We're at war. I signed up knowing the risks, and so did you. And this time, I'm the one who screwed up. I take responsibility. So you can't blame yourself for this. Is that clear?
Mirage swallowed. He felt Jazz grip his hand tighter, his optics continuing to stare at him, waiting for his answer. Mirage felt his voice stutter:
-Y-Yes, it's clear...
He felt the tears welling up and shook his head at the hunters.
-...It's... he grimaced and brought his free hand to his mouth, choking back what might have been a sob.
Jazz softened, his visor sliding back into place as he straightened up a little better:
-... Hey, come here, mech.
Mirage let himself be pulled closer and leaned over, paying attention to the various cables, and snuggled gently into Jazz's embrace.
-... I thought I'd killed you... Mirage murmured. You were unresponsive, Ratchet lost your spark several times during the operation... I...I really thought...
-I'm fine now. Jazz rubbed his back. I'm alive. I'm all right.
Mirage nodded, his body trembling. He managed to swallow his tears, but Jazz felt his own guilt rising: Mirage was like him, he never cried, not in front of anyone. But was it any different in the privacy of his room, alone?
Guilt was replaced by anger: Mirage was already upset, and Ironhide was adding extra pressure, accusing him of treason and threatening to expel him? No matter that Hide had the best intentions in the world, Jazz wasn't going to let this go.
-... Jazz?
Mirage's voice asked softly, and Jazz realized he'd let his field filter a little, sharing in spite of himself the anger that was beginning to consume him.
Mirage straightened up to look at him better, and Jazz smiled:
-I'm fine, he repeated, and before Mirage could insist, he continued. I already know how to handle the situation. I've just got to get out of here, and when I do, you won't have to worry about being suspected anymore. Okay?
Mirage looked at him with wide, surprised, curious eyes.
-... Okay? You're not going to do anything to get into trouble, are you?
Jazz laughed:
-Have I ever done that?
-Yes, all the time.
-Ahah, no, don't worry, I promise. I've got a safe and effective solution. Prowl knows you're innocent too. All we have to do is come up with the right evidence, and you won't have to worry anymore.
Mirage searched for words. He smiled with relief:
-I'm not worried anymore. You're fine, that's what really matters to me.
-And what really matters to me is that I don't lose my second.
-Bee could easily replace me.
-Bee doesn't trust me like you do.
Mirage rolled his eyes:
-And look where that got us. Maybe he wouldn't have shot you, and you wouldn't be here.
-Bee certainly wouldn't have shot me, and that would have doomed us.
Jazz held out his fist:
-You're handling this well because you trust me to the end, partner. We're a power duo. Only mechas crazy enough can keep up with my bullshit.
Mirage watched his outstretched fist, huffed, but finally slammed his fist into his own:
-Ratchet would kill me if he heard this... But if it happens again, I'll listen to you again.
-And that's all I ask.
They nodded in agreement, then Mirage stepped back.
-I'd better be off. Prowl said he'd cover me if I got caught, but I don't want to take the risk.
-I understand. Just leave me alone, it's what I deserve!
Mirage laughed at his lamentations and gave him a mocking smile:
-This is your punishment for risking your life. But don't worry, I'm sure Prowl will be by soon to see you~
-Ah? Jazz raised an eyebrow, curious.
-The last time I saw him, he was talking to Blaster about candy. And as far as I know, Prowl isn't much of a snacker... You, on the other hand~
Jazz felt his cheeks heat up even though he didn't blush. At least it wasn't conspicuous.
-It could be for anyone. He might want to... Take a break.
-I'll bet you 12 shanix that the sweets will be for you and he'll bring them to you when I've finished my visit myself.
-...I...! Jazz swallowed his words, sensing that his voice was going to detail the. He pouted, then laughed. OK, fine, I won't bet with you, we both know you're too good at this game.
-Of course~
Then Mirage disappeared.
-Rest well, Jazz.
-Yeah, you too 'rage.
The door opened in the same way as before, and closed just as quickly.
Alone again, Jazz lay back down properly. And this time, the boredom seemed even worse: he couldn't wait to see Prowl.
Prowl was on his way to the infirmary, and outwardly he looked very much like himself: the serious, stoic bot, making his way from point A to point B.
No one could have been aware of how distressed he was. He was too aware of the little box he'd stowed away in his sub-space, along with the two cubes of energons, and the cybertronian harmonica.
Was this too much? He'd tried to anticipate things Jazz would like to have, but maybe he should have only brought the energon? He didn't have time to backtrack despite his regret; he was already in front of the door leading to Jazz's treatment room. Nervous, he finally knocked to indicate his presence, then entered.
He saw that Jazz had straightened up to greet him. He had obviously recovered enough to sit down, although Prowl was pretty sure that Ratchet hadn't given his consent.
-Hi Prowler!
Jazz's bright smile sent a pleasant tingle straight to Prowl's spark.
-Hello, Jazz.
He closed behind him and moved closer to his friend.
-Did you have any visitors today?
Prowl asked casually. Jazz had that enigmatic little smile, the kind he gave when he wanted to make it clear he knew more than he was saying:
-Well, you.
Prowl nodded, but waited a moment longer, until Jazz added:
-And Mirage.
Realizing that Jazz had to soundproof the room again, Prowl relaxed a little:
-Good. Did it go well?
-Yeah, we had a nice chat.
Jazz winked at him:
-Thanks for letting him stop by.
-He would have, even without my permission.
-Oh well, you had the authority to protect him.
Prowl cleared his throat:
-Well, I didn't want him to get into any more trouble.
He opened his sub-space and took out two cubes.
-Tell me, I know that... Ratchet gives you medical Energon. But I also know that many of us don't like it. Maybe you'd like some medium energon?
Jazz's visor seemed to light up and he reached for his cube.
-Oh, mech, thanks! Yeah, I can't take this medicine anymore, it's disgusting.
He watched Prowl keep his own cube, and smiled:
-And did you bring yours so we could share a drink?
Prowl looked away for a second but forced himself to look at Jazz, not without being betrayed by a faint blush and a little movement of his door beats:
-Well, I'm supposed to be on break, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to see you.
-Awn, that's lovely Mech~
-It's not...! Prowl sighed. You're talking nonsense again.
-Honest nonsense!
Prowl grumbled:
-Just drink up, before I change my mind.
-Ahah, yeah yeah sir, sorry sir~
They both sipped their energon, but Prowl could feel Jazz's gaze on him, and clearly Jazz wasn't trying to hide.
Embarrassed, Prowl sighed:
-What's the matter?
Jazz smiled at him:
-Got anything else for me?
Prowl's blush deepened and he grimaced:
-Isn't energon enough?
-Of course it is, Mech, but I hear you've got another present for me~
Prowl, despite his shyness, gave him a blasé look:
-Didn't Ratchet stop you from communicating outside this room?
-Yes, he did.
-....is Mirage?
Jazz's smile widened:
-A spy never reveals his sources, you know!
Prowl rolled his eyes and pouted:
-The principle of a gift is that it should be a surprise, you know? Prowl searched inside his sub-space and pulled out the little box he'd stored there, and handed it to Jazz. I got some advice from Blaster about your preferences.
Jazz happily grabbed the box, but by the time he put down his energon to open it, Prowl caught him unawares:
-And... I've got this too.
He took out the harmonica and placed it gently on the box.
This time, Jazz bugged, and looked at the instrument with surprise.
-... Is this...?
-Your harmonica, yes.
Okay, Prowl suddenly had a regret, especially about the timing. He tried to remain upright and motionless, but his door wings betrayed him with their little movements.
-I um... I took a while and I apologize. I could have given it to Wheeljack or Perceptor, but they had their own works to do. So I fixed it myself. he cleared his throat. But I don't know anything about instruments. I had to learn from zero.
Jazz looked at Prowl, then at the harmonica, with a stupor difficult to conceal. He took it between his fingers, observing it from every angle. You could see that a large part of it had been replaced by new parts, but it was a very clean-looking piece of work.
-... Whoa, mech, I... I didn't know you could tinker.
He continued to stare with a certain fascination, before tempting himself to blow into it, naturally finding how to put his mouth down and blow. He made a long note, and the sound was good.
He smiled radiantly:
-Damn, that sounds good. Almost better than before!
Prowl massaged the back of his neck:
-You're exaggerating...
-Ahah, maybe, but...whoua, it's really a nice surprise!
Prowl looked at Jazz, and felt his spark pulse at his warm smile:
-Thank you. You do a lot for me, but wow, if I expected this...! Hey, I almost feel bad for not returning the favor!
Prowl shook his head, red with embarrassment:
-What are you talking about? It's not like I'm expecting a reward.
-And yet you deserve one! Just wait until I organize a new date, it'll be even better than last time!
The tactician gasped:
-Wh- But I don't need a new date!!
-What, you didn't like the last one?
-That's not the point! It was very nice, but thinking about a date when you should be resting...
-Hey, technically we have a date right now~
Prowl ran a hand over his face, feeling how much his face was burning.
-...You're really terrible sometimes.
-But that's why you love me!~
Prowl just sighed and rolled his eyes, more to hide his growing embarrassment than out of real annoyance.
Jazz laughed, and finally came to open the little box he'd been given earlier. As he'd expected, the box was full of energy sweets. His favorite! Yeah, Blaster knew his tastes, he'd clearly influenced Prowl's choice.
-Ah, sweet happiness!
Jazz hummed and picked up one of the sweets, taking it into his mouth and savoring it. It fizzed on his tongue and filled him with happiness - he loved it!
Prowl watched in fascination. It was always a spectacle to see how Jazz marveled at little things like this. It was really cute.
Jazz caught his gaze, smiled and picked up another candy, which he held out to him:
-Would you like one?
-Oh, uh... Prowl hesitated. I'm not really into sweets.
-Own, not even one?
Prowl made that little pout he only made with Jazz, then gave in and accepted the candy:
-Okay, just a taste.
He carefully placed it in his mouth. It was as if he were tasting a potentially poisoned dish, so defensive did he seem. But in the end, the taste wasn't so bad, and Jazz saw him clearly relax and enjoy the candy, even if it wasn't his favorite food either.
-Well? Jazz asked.
-It's not bad, but I'll leave the rest to you.
The spy chuckled and simply took another piece of candy for himself, far from wanting to force himself on Prowl. That didn't stop him from talking about the appointment again:
-You know, we might have a different date than last time. My proposal to go to a party together is still on the table!
Prowl grimaced.
-Certainly. But let's talk about it when you get out of here, okay?
-We might as well talk about it now, because knowing the twins, they'll be celebrating my release from the infirmary with lots of high-quality and exciting music~.
Prowl sighed loudly:
-...I guess I couldn't escape it.
-Ahah, looks like you won't mech! Jazz let a silence pass, then smiled more gently. No, seriously... I'm repeating myself here: you can stay as long as you like, and if you find you're not really comfortable, even after just a few minutes, you can leave straight away. No one will blame you.
-Well... Like we said last time, if you're with me, then it should be fine.
And Jazz loved hearing that. 'if you're with me, then it should be fine ' ... Hey, wasn't that one of the nicest, sweetest things you could hear from someone else?
Prowl, who was becoming increasingly unsure of where to put himself, quickly finished his energon and put the cube away in his sub-space:
-Well, I think... I mean, my break's coming to an end, so I'd better get back.
-Oh, can't you stay a little longer? You work so much overtime, being late for once isn't going to kill anyone!
Prowl shook his head:
-I wouldn't risk testing that theory.
Jazz let out an exaggerated sigh. He picked up his cube and finished it too, before handing it to Prowl:
-You'd better take mine too. Ratchet will short-circuit us if he sees it!
-Ah, yes, you're right!
Prowl felt stupid for not having thought of that. He picked up the cube with a hint of shame - Jesus, Jazz was getting him so worked up he was forgetting the logical things - and stored it too.
-Hey, Jazz grabs his arm, stopping him from leaving right away. Will you come and see me again?
-Ah... Prowl felt that warmth again. Yes, of course I will. Do you need me to bring you anything specific?
-Just your presence, mech, that's great!
Again, that teasing wink that made Prowl's processor turn. Jazz let go and the tactician took the opportunity to step aside - not without regret.
-You're talking nonsense again.
-Hon...
-'Honest nonsense'! Yes, Jazz, I get the idea.
Prowl looked at him, pretending to be angry:
-That doesn't change the fact that it's nonsense! Now get some rest!
The tactician turned back to the door, and as he went out, he heard Jazz's laughter and cheerful voice exclaim:
-I miss you already, Prowler!
Of course he was going to scream the moment the door was opened. Of course he had to scream loud enough to be heard in the rest of the infirmary!
Prowl felt his face catch fire and hurriedly closed the door, hurrying through the rest of the infirmary, ignoring the glances of the few curious mechas hanging around, notably First Aid who was on duty in Ratchet's place.
Prowl felt his gaze follow him all the way, until he was out the door, and even once in the corridor, the tactician couldn't shake that warm feeling of being watched from everywhere, as if everyone knew how much Jazz could make his spark fly.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! He needed a cold shower.
It had already been dark for some time when Prowl made his way to the meeting place as agreed, but not without a minimum of preparation.
He had made sure to check his firewalls, in case someone tried to hack him. And beyond that, he had carefully prepared his emergency programs, which only he knew about, and which would inevitably come in handy if Soundwave decided to trap or even kidnap him.
For good measure, he had also planned in advance how he should draw his weapons to defend himself, should he come to blows, and just in case: he also had a program to send his coordinates should he be knocked out or put into stasis.
Prowl had thought of everything.
As a result, he arrived at the planned location a few minutes ahead of schedule.
The setting was almost identical to the last time. The desert stretched as far as the eye could see, beyond the rock formations where he was to find Soundwave. The sky wasn't as clear, however, with a few clouds obscuring the sky and sometimes even the ground, their shadows moving slowly with the wind.
Soundwave wasn't there yet, which surprised Prowl. He had expected to find him already in place.
Wary, he didn't settle down and stood with his arms crossed, watching his surroundings.
He didn't have long to wait, as Soundwave's silhouette loomed up in the sky and slowly descended towards him.
Prowl remained silent, simply watching him as he completed his descent. This gave him time to think, to consider that it was a useless waste of energy to fly like that.
Soundwave wasn't a flying cybertronian, at least not initially. He didn't have the frame for it. But Decepticons would do anything to gain an advantage, and Decepticons who weren't seekers had undergone 'upgrades' to 'compensate' for their shortcomings.
For example, cybertronians like Soundwave, which had no vehicle mode, could still fly around.
And Prowl could say without batting an eyelid that this was a very bad idea. There was a 99% chance that flying like this, even though it wasn't a function suited to Soundwave's environment, would drain too much of his resources and tire him out more quickly.
No wonder the Decepticons were having so much trouble with their energon reserves, if they were fooling around with this kind of ill-considered adaptation.
Prowl refrained from making any comment when Soundwave finally landed a few steps away from him. He didn't even reproach him for being late, because Soundwave wasn't late: on the contrary, he was right on time.
-Autobot Prowl: greeting.
Prowl nodded:
-Evening Soundwave. Do you have everything?
Soundwave agreed and reached into his sub-space, pulling out a datapad.
Prowl held out his hand to receive it.
Soundwave looked at him but didn't hand over the document.
This made Prowl frown:
-Can I have it?
-Answer: negative.
The tactician had the feeling that this was a bad joke. Had Soundwave just come to taunt him?
He took his hand back for himself, not intending to leave it foolishly outstretched.
-Is there any particular reason for this sudden turnaround?
-Answer: negative. Soundwave: hasn't changed his mind. But Soundwave: would like to ask a favor before giving anything.
-A favor?
Prowl felt confused. Soundwave wanted to make a deal, even though he owed him a debt? The tactician didn't know whether this was convenient for him, or whether he felt ripped off.
Nevertheless, he returned to crossing his arms and listening:
-What do you want?
-Soundwave: would like images of Jazz.
Prowl squinted:
-You think I'm a stalker?
Soundwave remained unmoved but only in appearance, for behind the visor he rolled his eyes.
-Soundwave: would like access to Prowl's memory files.
-Certainly not. The Praxian's answer was devoid of hesitation. I'm not going to let you access anything that requires a connection.
What's next? Prowl already felt stupid enough for coming here without telling anyone, so to risk connecting to an enemy?
Soundwave once again betrays nothing on the surface.
-Answer: still negative. Soundwave: doesn't require a connection. Autobot Prowl: can simply transfer images via secure messaging.
-You're asking me to review my memory bank and take screenshots of Jazz so you can send them to you? This is not only a waste of time and energy, but also a request that could be described as 'weird'.
Soundwave squinted behind his visor, and held back a sigh.
Yes, he was well aware that, put like that, it was unwelcome. Nevertheless, he insisted, albeit a little more timidly:
-Soundwave: would like to see that Jazz is doing better.
Prowl pursed his lips.
Well... there was a 50% chance that Soundwave was just saying that to soften him up.
Was this another manipulation to make him think he cared about Jazz?
Prowl kept an eye on him, even though he had already started running the program from his memory bank.
-I can give you a screenshot. Just one.
Because he had better things to do than clutter his processor with useless copies of his memories...especially if they were images of Jazz. Dammit, if someone were to discover pictures of Jazz in his files, what would they think of him?
Soundwave was disappointed not to get more, but decided not to negotiate. Soundwave didn't want to risk annoying him too much, in which case his plan might fail.
They both fell silent, until Prowl could quickly retrieve his most recent memories of Jazz, when he had visited him earlier in the day.
He put the memory on fast forward, not wanting to waste time going over everything again. He needed to stay focused on Soundwave and his surroundings while doing this, it required a lot of concentration. At any moment, Soundwave had asked him to do this to distract him!
Prowl could have taken any screenshot, but he wanted to choose a good one, so that Soundwave wouldn't have anything to say about it....
And there he paused on Jazz, who was smiling at him with sincere warmth, his freshly repaired harmonica in his hands.
Prowl felt the warmth in his face. He made sure his doors didn't jiggle, and took a screen shot, which he sent to Soundwave.
Jazz looked so handsome in this screenshot. It could only be a good choice.
-It's done.
He closed his memory bank to focus fully on Soundwave.
This one waited to receive the file, and behind the mask, his eyes widened and his spark fluttered. The sight of a smiling Jazz, despite lying on an infirmary bed and hooked up to a monitor, was enough to make his whole body crackle with joy.
Prowl and Soundwave shared a common thought: Jazz was adorable when he smiled like that.
-Soundwave: thanks Prowl.
The Decepticon huffed, before finally holding out the coveted datapad.
Prowl took it, restraining himself from rushing. He didn't want to betray how important it was to him.
As soon as he had the document in hand, Prowl turned it on to take a look. He wanted to see immediately what to expect.
Soundwave made no comment and waited patiently while he read the information in diagonal.
Prowl frowned in amazement, and looked up at Soundwave:
-You've built up a complete file?
-Answer: affirmative. File: includes mission reports as well as voice and message exchanges between the requested decepticons. Soundwave: added surveillance videos.
Prowl was blown away. Soundwave had had time to do all this? In a single day? When he probably had other things to do on the side as well? It wasn't for nothing that he was Megatron's second-in-command, and equaled Jazz...
Although Prowl tried not to show too much admiration, Soundwave could see the look of stupefaction in his eyes, which made him smile behind his mask:
-Autobot Prowl: satisfied with this document?
The teasing tone wasn't lost on the tactician, who felt himself blush.
Crap.
He grumbled:
-At first glance, yes. But I'll take the time to study it better when I get home.
He answered pragmatically, but made no move to leave.
He couldn't just say goodbye and turn his back on Soundwave! It was too risky!
Fortunately, Soundwave spared him further anguish, greeting him with a nod:
-Soundwave: will now take his leave. Meeting: pleasant.
He had the nerve to tell him again that the meeting had been 'pleasant'! Prowl could almost have sulked. He didn't think Soundwave would be the type to make fun of others like that, but at least it explained why he got on well with Jazz...
So Prowl stood his ground, serious and falsely disinterested:
-Goodbye Soundwave.
He didn't want to drag this out any longer, and he didn't want to show the Decepticon any sympathy. At least, not any more than he already had.
Soundwave watched him for just a few more seconds, then turned his back:
-Goodbye: Prowl.
He flew off, and Prowl waited for his silhouette to disappear in the distance before setting off for the Ark himself.
Chapter 11: Socializing: a bad idea
Chapter Text
It was another day on the Ark.
Prowl was in his office, concentrating on his many datapads. The fact that Jazz was convalescing was no excuse to stop working. On the contrary: with such an important officer gone, Prowl found himself with more work, just like Ironhide and Optimus.
Not to mention his investigation concerning Mirage! Although this was progressing particularly well, thanks to the information Soundwave had shared with him.
And so, Prowl was immersed in writing a new report when a knock came at his door.
-Enter.
Prowl simply said, continuing what he was doing.
The door opened, and Prowl looked up to see Blaster enter:
-Hey, Prowl!
Well, his arrival was expected. Since he'd asked to see Jazz, he'd no doubt come to ask if his request had been accepted, and unfortunately it hadn't.
-Hello Blaster. Your request for a visit has been denied.
Well, Prowl hadn't really thought about how to announce it.
Blaster tensed, a little embarrassed. He'd thought their talk last time might have lightened the mood between them, but... No, he definitely wasn't as comfortable with Prowl as Jazz could be, even if he tried to pretend otherwise.
-Yeah, I know. The carrier shrugged. Ratchet gave me the message.
Blaster was a chill, no-holds-barred mecha. But when you were up against the brilliant tactician that was Prowl, it was hard not to feel intimidated, especially when Prowl gave you the impression that you were wasting his time.
-Sooooo... Blaster began, sitting down cautiously at the desk. Did Jazz enjoy the sweets?
Prowl hesitated slightly, surprised and embarrassed by the question.
Blaster didn't notice; he didn't know Prowl's body language well enough.
The tactician finally replied:
-Yes, he was pleased. Thanks for your advice.
-Oh, no problem, of course.
Blaster tapped his fingers on the desk, a nervous tic:
-...... So, yeah... You know, you... You told me you'd repay me?
Prowl stopped writing. He looked up again, leaving his report aside.
-Yes, I do. Do you need anything?
He didn't think Blaster would come to him for a favor so soon. In fact, he didn't think he'd ask for anything at all. The chances of that happening were pretty slim, barely 15%.
Generally speaking, saying 'I'll repay you' was a simple mark of politeness.
Blaster had taken it literally. Maybe that was no bad thing.
-Well, yeah, I mean, if it's okay with you, of course. Blaster smiled awkwardly. Actually, I'm supposed to pick up something for Red Alert in town. A module to improve the Ark's security. But, uh, how can I put this...
Prowl stared at him, waiting for his request.
Blaster fidgeted a little, even more uncomfortable.
-..... But... Rah, Ok, uh, he wants me to go get him like, there, right now. Except I've got this thing with Tracks, and I don't want to cancel. So I was wondering if maybe you could go in my place?
Prowl gave him a perplexed look:
-...That sounds important. This 'thing' with Tracks has such a high priority compared to Red Alert's request?
Blaster joined hands with a pleading pout:
-It's a date! I finally got him to ask me out. If I cancel at the last minute, he'll never want to do anything again!
Prowl gave him an even more blasé look, then sighed:
-Okay. Where do I have to go?
Blaster grinned widely:
-Oh, you'll do it? Thanks Mech!
He immediately sent Prowl the address of a laboratory:
-OK, well, the module's super fragile, so don't make any sudden moves! But, uh, I think the scientist will tell you. You'll just have to drop it off at Red, or Percy! Ah, but definitely not Wheeljack, Red doesn't want him to blow it up!
Prowl recorded Blaster's erratic speech without too much trouble. Let's just say he was used to worse: he regularly worked with Bluestreak, who was a real chatterbox.
-Alright, Blaster. That's all?
-Yep, perfect, thanks again!
Blaster stood up:
-My comms are still open if you need it!
He moved quickly towards the exit:
-Well, I'd better hurry, I don't want to be late! Euuu, don't be late either, Ok? Right? Yeah, come on, bye Prowl, sir, yeah!
He left the office.
Prowl ran a hand over his face. He took the time to organize what he was working on, before leaving the room himself.
He went into the next office, where he found Smokescreen leaning against Bluestreak's desk, looking at his screen and apparently giving indications to the younger one.
As soon as Prowl entered, the two other praxians stopped what they were doing to look up at him, intrigued to see him there.
-I'm leaving now, Prowl pointed out. If you have anything to ask me, just send it to my voicemail or drop it in my office.
Smokescreen nodded:
-Okay.
-Where are you going? Bluestreak intervened, his gaze full of curiosity.
Smokescreen sighed. Blue may have worked with them for years, but he still hadn't grasped that Prowl wasn't someone you could ask that sort of question of without receiving an annoyed look.
The annoyed look he did get. Well, probably? In fact, Prowl looked as 'normal' as ever, which is to say: no smile and a harsh look. So for the others, it translated as "You're pissing me off, stop talking to me."
Prowl answered the question in his same controlled, dry voice:
-It's confidential.
Prowl didn't consider elaborating. At that moment, the answer seemed logical to him: he didn't know if he should tell Red Alert about the module he had to take back, and Bluestreak was talkative enough for the news to reach the Decepticons' audios.
Bluestreak, however, lowered his door wings and grimaced. He wasn't in Prowl's head, and just had the feeling he'd just seriously irritated his superior.
Smokescreen said nothing, not being sure himself whether Prowl was angry or not. Logically, he shouldn't be, it would be stupid to get angry just for that, but the signals Prowl was sending out didn't help defend that idea.
Prowl didn't bother to analyse the other two's reactions and simply waved them off before leaving. He wasn't angry at all. He knew Bluestreak and his curious temperament, and he'd answered the most logical thing to answer in this situation, and now he'd already moved on to something else, which was to focus on the coordinates provided by Blaster and go and find the damn module.
He left the Ark and transformed into vehicle mode, setting off down the road.
He was now driving in the direction of the city, muttering salty insults. Because, of course, Blaster couldn't send him to the next town. No, it was a town much further away, several hours away!
Prowl didn't have the spark to bother Skyfire for such a journey, but he'd certainly thought about it. That would teach him to be ' grateful' to others.
On the advice of Optimus and Jazz, he had been trying to socialize more since their arrival on Earth, but it was still very complicated. He had trouble with other people's emotions. It was hard enough with his own feelings... Not to mention having to do 'favors', which was a real waste of time.
He had work to do, and he wanted to drop in on Jazz! But no, here he was, crossing the desert to fetch a stupid module that Red Alert would only use for a short time before requesting a new upgrade to the security system.
Prowl sighed deeply.
No, he had to calm down and not let the negative thoughts get to him. He was an autobot officer, a mature robot. It was natural to help. Blaster had helped him, it was natural to do the same. He mustn't fall back into bad habits.
If he hadn't been in vehicle mode, he'd have grimaced: thinking back to his days on Cybertron, when he didn't talk to anyone, not even about work, made him feel pretty ashamed. He'd been... well, a real asshole. He had to tell it like it was. He'd done a lot of things he wasn't proud of, because he had too much ego and thought himself too important to waste time with ordinary soldiers, or civilians.
His reputation as a 'cold' and 'heartless' mecha didn't come from nowhere.
Concentrating on the road and his own thoughts, Prowl hadn't noticed that he was being followed.
At the same time, it was hard to spot Laserbeak: he was always careful to fly high and away from his targets. His internal camera had a good range, he was fast and discreet. A perfect little spy.
So Prowl made his way to his meeting point, unaware of the mechanical bird's presence.
The day didn't seem to be getting any better for Prowl. When he arrived at the laboratory, he was stopped at the entrance to the parking lot. He needed a pass.
Though he wanted to be discreet...
He was forced to revert to his robotic form, to show that he was an autobot and that he was expected. He obviously gave the guard a good fright. Although humans knew about Transformers, not everyone had come across them in cables and energon.
It could have ended there: obliged to reveal himself, to attract attention, to waste time while we went to warn of his arrival..........
-What do you mean 'it's not ready'? Prowl asked in a cold voice, controlling his anger.
-Oh, I'm really sorry sir, we've had some problems and the module wasn't finished in time. If you could come back in just an hour...? the human scientist apologized awkwardly, intimidated by the large robot.
Prowl had to be calm and controlled. He had to! So he took it upon himself and nodded:
-I understand. I'll be back... in an hour...
-Thank you very much, and sorry again for the wait!
The human hurried back inside to continue the work quickly, and Prowl stood stupidly in front of the entrance.
One hour. What the hell was he going to do for an hour?
He reverted to his car form and left the establishment angrily.
He drove around town for a while. But he couldn't go fast, he had to abide by human regulations, so it was no fun. He was the first to follow such rules, but he completely understood the urge to go flat out on a racetrack.
He sometimes envied the other autobots, who were far less concerned about regulations and safety, and who went off to have fun without thinking about the consequences.
Prowl was the first to reprimand them, especially when it led to complicated situations.
But probably... if he'd been a mecha like the others, if he hadn't been a High Officer with a super-powered tactical processor, if he'd had less responsibility, and more sense for having fun... maybe, yes, he'd have been the first to ride hard on the roads, to have fun with the wind, the synergy, the speed...
He sighed, stopping cautiously at a red light.
He focused too much on the 'maybes'. He had to stop thinking about them and simply get on with living with who he was, just as he did when he was devising his strategies, when they went wrong and he had to bounce back immediately without a thought for all those who had been hurt by his fault.
The light turned green and Prowl started off, looking for something to occupy him. Maybe he should get away from the traffic, away from the city? Maybe he could find a quiet spot in the shade, or go back to the lab and park in the parking lot?
He didn't have much time to think about it.
What prompted him to look around at that moment, he couldn't say. Glancing a little higher, towards the lampposts... to see Laserbeak a few meters away, perched and watching him intently.
Prowl had the same feeling as when he caught Jazz doing something stupid: he had a violent feeling of being PISSED.
Seriously Soundwave? Seriously??
Laserbeak must have realized he'd been spotted, even though Prowl had no visible face to show his attention or displeasure, because he took off in panic to flee down an alleyway. Obviously.
Prowl grumbled, and instinctively took his turn down the alley. It was narrow, and if he'd been just a little bigger he'd surely have scraped against the walls. Scratching his paintwork didn't scare him, he wasn't Tracks or Sunstreaker, but that didn't mean he wanted to damage himself unnecessarily, so he rolled gently.
The alley continued for just a few meters, before leading into a more open space that appeared to be a dead end. Prowl had enough space to regain his two-legged form, and looked around for Laserbeak, wondering if he'd escaped upstairs.
He perceived movement coming from the emergency staircase. Prowl approached it, as annoyed as ever:
-This is a poor hiding spot.
He said to Laserbeak, seeing the bird that had obviously wanted to hide there. But then, the staircase was human-sized, and Laserbeak may have been a cassette, but he was still bigger than the average human.
In fact, Prowl's bored expression deepened as he realized that Laserbeak was fidgeting without managing to get out of the damn stairwell.
-Are you stuck?
Laserbeak made a small metallic noise and tried to wriggle harder.
Prowl felt even more tired. He sighed:
-Don't move.
He passed his hands as best he could, trying not to damage the structure, and gently picked up the tape.
Laserbeak tried to listen to him, keeping as immobile as possible.
After several long minutes of manipulation, Prowl finally managed to get him out, without doing too much damage, even if the cassette now had a few scratches.
Prowl observed the cassette in his hands. He would have thought that, once freed, it would run away. Laserbeak was simply watching him, head tilted slightly, a curious gleam in his eye.
-What? Prowl asked, feeling a little embarrassed by this piercing stare.
Laserbeak cringed mechanically and fidgeted a little.
Prowl released him without really thinking about it. He didn't even know why he felt so unsuspecting. The normal attitude would have been to capture the tape, and instead he just let it go quietly after helping it.
Soundwave could have planned a trap, could be watching and ambushing him. The timing was perfect: Prowl was alone in a dead-end street, out of sight.
As Prowl thought about it, he glanced towards his only exit and considered going for it... Before Laserbeak suddenly came to rest quietly on his shoulder.
Prowl was all the more confused. He watched the bird, questioning it with his eyes, and Laserbeak watched him in return, unable to communicate anything to him.
Prowl knew that cassettes and their carriers had a natural connection, to simplify communication. But for the cassettes to be able to communicate with other people, they had to be equipped with a voice box, which was not necessarily obvious depending on the shape of the cassette. Rumble and Frenzy, for example, were almost identical to minibots, so a voice box could easily be adapted.
-Logic would dictate that you stay away from me, you know? Prowl says, perplexed. At least at a reasonable distance so I don't catch you.
Laserbeak let out another little scream, and Prowl was as confused as ever, unable to understand. But the tape still wouldn't go away, and Prowl wasn't sure what to do now. He certainly couldn't go out again in plain sight. Laserbeak's Decepticon symbol was as visible as his own Autobot symbol. This wasn't the moment to cause trouble.
Prowl checked the time, and still had three quarters of an hour to kill. He sighed, looked for a place to sit down without making too much of a mess, and settled cautiously against one of the walls. Laserbeak jumped up from his shoulder to sit on his lap.
Then Prowl thought to himself: was he being filmed? I mean... Yes, he was. But was it only Soundwave watching it, or was it being broadcast on the screens of the Decepticon base? Maybe Megatron himself was actually watching it. Maybe he looked ridiculous, him, the great autobot tactician, sitting in an alley room with an enemy cassette.
He had a headache that was starting to come on.
-So, why did Soundwave send you? Did he see me leave and want to keep an eye on what I'm doing?
Laserbeak continued to stare at him in silence, to the point where Prowl wondered if the other had understood him. Then, finally, the tape shook its head.
Prowl shrugged:
-"No?" He watched Laserbeak nod this time. Soundwave didn't send you? The cassette shook its head again. ...so...you're not on a mission? The cassette nodded.
Prowl looked thoughtful:
-You're out for a walk?
Laserbeak agreed.
Prowl sighed:
-Why were you following me then?
Laserbeak didn't answer this time. He did, however, stir a little... Then a little 'swip' was heard, the kind of sound a control panel makes when it slides. And indeed, right at his neck, Laserbeak had opened access to his ports.
Prowl blinked:
-... It took him a few seconds to understand. You want a connection? Laserbeak nodded, and Prowl squinted. Do you realize what an irrational request that is? We could hack each other, it's absolutely not safe.
Laserbeak tossed his head, and Prowl wondered if this wasn't the equivalent of rolling his eyes for him.
-I won't allow you to make any judgments. Prowl grumbled. I'm being cautious, just as you should be.
Laserbeak began to hop impatiently, uttering more little cries that sounded annoyed.
Prowl heaved a deep sigh:
-Seriously... He stared at the tape, looking for some kind of trap. And while he was checking his firewalls, he opened one of his wrist panels, pulling out a wire. I'm warning you: if there's the slightest doubt, I'll break the connection, even if it means hurting us both.
Laserbeak flapped its wings and croaked... happily? Prowl thought it was supposed to be joyful or something.
Then the cassette stayed immobile, merely turning its head to allow access to its port. Prowl thought again about how he was taking unnecessary and stupid risks. It was REALLY stupid.
That didn't stop him from connecting to Laserbeak.
He quickly felt an unknown presence invade him. But the presence didn't take up too much space. It was just enough to know that someone was there, but there was no force required to break through its barriers and penetrate its data banks.
-[::Ah, finally!::]
A voice invaded his mind. Prowl stared at Laserbeak, who was looking at him with big, bright eyes, and felt amusement wash over him, not knowing whether it was coming from him or from the tape. He wasn't used to connections. He made too few.
-[::Are you always this paranoid? ::]
Laserbeak asked, a little teasingly, and Prowl made a little pout:
-[::I don't think you're paranoid enough::]
Laserbeak chuckled and settled himself better on his knees:
-[::You've got no reason to mess with me, and neither do I::]
Prowl wondered how much the cassettes could know about their carrier. He wasn't a carrier himself, he only knew the theory, and he'd never taken the time to ask Blaster or Soundwave about their links with their cassettes.
-[::Is Soundwave watching and hearing what's happening?::] Prowl asked.
Laserbeak shook his head negatively:
-[::No. Oh, he could, but he's busy, and I'd feel it if he decided to connect to me::]
-[::So you went out alone::] Prowl concluded.
-[::Yes. Officially I'm on a reconnaissance mission. But I don't have anything specific to observe and I wanted to stretch my wings::]
-[::And you thought spying on me was a good thing?::]
-[::I was curious, and then I have to keep an eye on what the 'bots are up to. But mostly I was surprised, because it's not usually you I see out there alone::]
Prowl held back a grimace. What? even the Decepticons had noticed that he was unsociable?
Laserbeak's laughter echoed in his mind:
-[::You know I can hear some of your thoughts, right?::]
Prowl flinched:
-[::Really?::]
-[::You're not used to connections at all, are you?::]
Prowl felt ashamed, but kept his expression as stoic as possible:
-[::No, indeed::]
-[::You should ask Jazz to teach you a few things, he's good at being completely impassive!::]
Prowl felt the wonder coming from the tape. It surprised him as much as his words, and he asked:
-[::Have you ever connected with Jazz?::]
-[::A few times. It's easier to communicate, even if he's good at guessing just with my gestures, unlike you::]
Prowl outraged:
-[::Hey!::]
Laserbeak's laugh invades his mind again:
-[::It's okay, you're already doing better than the other Decepticons. Whereas they see me every day!::]
This time, Laserbeak seemed a little more bitter.
Prowl tilted his head in astonishment. The whole situation was too destabilizing.
Laserbeak didn't let the silence become too awkward, and quickly spoke up again:
-[::Anyway, why did you come here?::]
Prowl hesitated over the percentage of honesty he should put into his answer:
-[::I've been asked for a favor. I came to pick something up, but the order wasn't ready yet, so I have to wait::]
-[::Oh. That's annoying::]
-[::Yes. Very::]
Laserbeak tapped the cable between them with his beak.
Prowl flinched. Hey, that was fragile! He pouted and put his hand on the bird's head to make it stop.
Clearly, this was the reaction Laserbeak had been waiting for, because he immediately came to rub his head against the tactician's palm.
Prowl didn't dare move at all, fearing he might make the wrong move.
-[::... Won't the Decepticons worry about your prolonged absence? ::] Prowl finally asked.
-[::No, they don't care. Only the boss would worry. But he can communicate with me whenever he wants, so he has nothing to worry about ::]
Prowl REALLY didn't know how to react to this. He was trying to swallow the compassion that was welling up inside him. He couldn't afford any compassion in the face of the enemy. The last thing he needed was to indulge in such weakness - it could only go wrong.
-[::What, you're afraid you won't be able to shoot me in the next battle?::]
Laserbeak joked and Prowl tensed. It was hard to know what the bird could or couldn't hear. He was really struggling to grasp the boundaries of connection.
Laserbeak turned off his optics and continued to rub against the taller man's palm:
-[::I'm not a civilian, okay? I'm a Decepticon. I know what I'm getting into::]
Prowl pressed his lips together:
-[::Far be it from me to show pity, I know that you and your colleagues are serious threats::]
Laserbeak relit his optics, and Prowl didn't miss the hint of perplexity coming from him.
The tape repeated:
-[::My ‘colleagues’?::]
-[::Yes? The other cassettes::]
-[::These are my brothers::]
Prowl hesitated for a second:
-[::I didn't think you considered yourself as such::]
Laserbeak made a wing movement that resembled a shrug:
-[::We call each other a lot of things. But to me, they're my brothers. They're stupid, but I love them though::]
Prowl held back a smile.
The connection betrayed his amusement and echoed that of Laserbeak.
They exchanged a silent laugh.
Laserbeak looked at Prowl with interest:
-[::You have brothers too::]
Prowl shook his head:
-[::No, I don't::]
-[::Bluestreak and Smokescreen, they're from Praxus, like you::]
-[::We have the same origins, that doesn't make us brothers::]
Laserbeak shrugged again:
-[::It might have::]
Prowl could sense Laserbeak's curiosity about him. The little cassette didn't even hide it:
-[::Isn't there anyone around you that you consider ‘family’?::]
Prowl shrugged:
-[::Why do you ask? To better target my weak points?::]
-[::Maybe. You know who my brothers and my carrier are, I know nothing about you::]
-[::We don't have the same status in the army. I'm one of the pillars of the Autobots, I can't be vulnerable::]
Prowl added, as if scolding him:
-[::And I owe you nothing. Why do you think I'd reveal anything to you?::]
Laserbeak tilted his head, pondering the answer:
-[::... I like Jazz. And Jazz likes you, I think. So I'd like to understand why he likes you:: he straightened up ::And then you helped my boss last time. That makes me curious::]
The bird looked into his eyes again:
-[::Why did you help the boss?::]
Prowl tensed:
-[::We may be at war, but that doesn't mean I like letting mechas die, even if they're enemies::]
Laserbeak was far from convinced:
-[::It doesn't mean you have to help them either. Let alone let them escape::] he squinted ::We both know you could have taken the opportunity to capture him. But you didn't::]
Prowl didn't answer. Mainly because he was concentrating on not letting anything filter through the connection.
The tape held his gaze, waiting for an answer that didn't come. Finally, he broke the silence:
-[::You like Jazz::]
Prowl became a little more withdrawn. He even hesitated to pull the cable out immediately. Yet he didn't, as if reacting this way would only betray him - it would, yes.
Laserbeak insisted:
-[::I don't know if that's really the case. I'm having a hard time reading you. But I'm connected to the boss, I can hear his emotions, I can listen to some of his thoughts::]
He breathed:
-[::He loves Jazz, and I'm sure you know that::]
Prowl remained silent once more. Just long enough to reset his vocalizer:
-[::I suspected it::]
Laserbeak tilted his head:
-[::Only ‘suspected’?::]
Prowl hesitated:
-[::...Are you sure no one can hear us?::]
-[::Positive. The boss isn't even online yet::]
Prowl weighed up the pros and cons:
-[:: ... Jazz told me a few stories about himself and Soundwave::]
-[::Did he tell you about the kisses?::]
Okay, this time Prowl was betrayed by a blush. He didn't need to imagine Jazz and Soundwave kissing, let alone several times!!! And, having caught his thoughts, Laserbeak squeaked:
-[::I don't need to imagine it either, yuck!!::]
Laserbeak pouted in disgust:
-[::It's already happened while I was tucked away in the frame! It's disgusting, they're disgusting, I don't want to know what my carrier does with Jazz!::]
-[::But why are you telling me this then?::]
-[::I just wanted to know if you knew so much!!::]
Laserbeak let out a little growl and moved closer to Prowl's sale to snuggle up to him, folding his wings tightly against his body:
-[:: I don't like their kisses, but other than that... I like Jazz, he's nice. Sometimes he brings back good energy, or treats::] he listed with a touch of tenderness [:: He's always in a good mood, it's nice. And he makes the boss laugh::]
Prowl was stunned. Soundwave, laughing? That was something he could hardly imagine.
Laserbeak stepped aside to look at him again:
-[::I think the boss makes him happy too. When they're together, they don't look like they're on the battlefield. They don't look sad::]
Prowl was silent again.
Laserbeak sighed:
-[::That's why you helped the boss, isn't it? Because you didn't want Jazz to be sad::]
Yes.
-[::Yes::]
Prowl's answer came without thinking. Then he realized and mentally slapped himself.
Laserbeak looked at him.
-[::We have the same goal then. We don't want them to be sad. Because we care about them::]
Prowl squinted:
-[::...You say you don't want me to feel pity for you, but you tell me this as if you expect me to act accordingly::]
Prowl suddenly had a new thought, which made him more serious:
-[:: ... You came to me about this on purpose. So that I'd help Soundwave again in the future::]
Laserbeak shrugged, letting a light laugh pass:
-[::I think you're too paranoid. You're the chief tactician. A ‘pillar’ of the Autobots, as you say::]
-[::And my processor tells me you know what you're doing, 90% of the time::]
Laserbeak didn't reply, but his amusement filtered through the connection. He returned to position himself on Prowl's lap:
-[::Even if I did, would it really make any difference?::]
He made a winging movement that resembled a shrug:
-[::It's like now. Why did you accept the connection? And before that, why did you help me get unstuck?::]
Prowl reached for Laserbeak's neck:
-[::That's enough, let's stop here::]
The bird tapped his hand with his beak to make him back off:
-[::Oh no, I want an answer! Do you like Jazz? Enough to protect my boss and us, his tapes?::]
-[::No::]
-[::Yet that's what you do! You may be an Autobot, but Jazz is more important than your c̷a̶u̵s̵e̴-̵::]
-̸̘̅Z̸͙͆R̸̲͗Ǧ̸͓Ó̵̭É̶͖N̴̰͌G̸͍̍Í̷̘E̴̲͐Ŗ̶̐N̷͑ͅG̶̛̗Ò̴͙Ë̵̘N̴̪̈́Z̷̩͒-
-̵̝͠Ç̶̂O̸̰͊Ǹ̶̯N̷̮͆È̴̟X̴̛̻Ĭ̵̘Ö̵̻́N̸̺͂ ̸͓͛I̸͎̓N̵̖͐T̶̞̈́Ę̴̎R̷͚̐R̵̮̽Ȗ̵̲P̶̮̍T̴̰̿E̷̗͒D̶̲̓-̷̗̏
Laserbeak let out a violent, painful croak, while Prowl was shot through with a burst of burning juice.
Breaking a connection so abruptly, without prior preparation, was always a terrible idea.
But Prowl didn't want to put up with it for another second.
He got to his feet rather abruptly, despite the flash of pain in his processor that made him flinch.
Laserbeak fell to the ground but quickly got to his feet, not without being disoriented himself. Then he squealed, glaring at Prowl.
Prowl glared back:
-I don't know what kind of idea you've got in your head, but I invite you to question it, because you're making a mistake.
He passed Laserbeak and resumed his vehicle form, leaving the alley faster than he'd entered it.
This connection was a mistake.
Coming here had been a mistake.
Helping Soundwave had been a mistake.
And falling in love with Jazz was the worst mistake of all.
Chapter 12: 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 and 𝘛𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯
Chapter Text
Ratchet massaged his temples, trying to ignore the man who had been annoying him for several minutes already:
-Come on, Ratch'! Please, please, please!
The doctor gave Jazz only a brief glance before returning to his data screen.
This didn't stop Jazz from becoming even more agitated:
-Raaaaatch! I've been here for centuries!
-Only three days.
-It's already too much!
Jazz was a patient man. No, really, it might sound surprising, but he REALLY knew how to be patient! But then, when it came to resting in the infirmary, patience was gone, blown away, crushed into little pieces, reduced to dust and sent into orbit.
-Ratcheeeet!
Ratchet glared at him:
-I'll rip your vocal cords out!
Jazz pouted:
-Don't be a glitch! I'm fine, you know, I'm totally fixed!
Ratchet rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at his screen again. Jazz was...basically right. It was repaired, the data was good, sure... but he needed to keep an eye on it for a few more days!
-Okay, Ratch', listen, I've got a great argument!
Ratchet gave him an annoyed look:
-Tss, I'll wait and see.
-I've got to get back to work.
-You'll have to rethink the definition of 'super'.
Jazz sat down better on the bunk, not losing his zest for life:
-Think of it this way: I've got work to do. And right now, I'm not doing it. If I don't do it, that means the others are in charge. But Specs Ops are down, so Mirage can't even do my job. So, who's doing my job?
Ratchet grinned.
Jazz smiled:
-Exactly. Prowler or OP. Well, maybe 'Hide, but we both know he couldn't handle my job. So it's Prowl or Optimus.
Ratchet already knew what he was getting at, and he already felt like hitting him.
Jazz raised his hands in peace:
-Look, I'm just saying that you're the first one to yell at them for not getting enough rest! And now they've got my job too. And, frankly... I really want to get out of here, and for both our sakes, it's better that you let me go out quietly and set up a follow-up protocol, rather than me sneaking out and having to hide for the next few weeks just so you don't drag me back here, eh?
Ratchet stared at him hard. Very hard. Before he let out an angry rattle and slapped his forehead:
-You're an insufferable fucking brat. What about respect for your elders? No, even without that, respect for the medical profession! I'm your doctor, respect me!
-Mech, of course I have to respect you!
-Well, it doesn't look like it!
Jazz made a little pout with his mouth.
Ratchet guessed he must have been making googly eyes at him behind his visor, but it's hard to tell just like that. The doctor rolled his eyes:
-The pout doesn't work on me.
-Hey, when it's Wheeljack, you melt right away!
-Because I can see his optics!
Silence.
Then Jazz's smile turned wry:
-Oh, so 'jack's optics make you melt!
Ratchet choked, his face flushing:
-I'm gonna rip your circuits out.
-I said nothing, I said nothing!
And Jazz, that cheeky little man, continued to smile:
-Soooooo, for my outing....?
Ratchet growled and went back to typing on his data tablet:
-I'll allow you to go out only if you respect the schedule I'll give you. I don't want you to work at your usual hours. I want you to cut the time in half, with a strict obligation to take a break every hour. And I'll be sure to send someone to check on you every hour. Is that clear?
Jazz held back a grimace. Well, he'd expected it, and after all it was better than nothing...
-Is that clear?
Ratchet repeated, looking at him again.
-Very clear, doc!
Ratchet huffed. He put the tablet away, and carefully removed the cables still connected to Jazz.
-Right... You'll also take your medical energon rations. Limit the normal energon, it might slow down the medical cure. He tapped Jazz's helmet. And not high quality, otherwise I'll send you to the cells.
-Rooooh!
Jazz pretended to complain, but he hadn't planned to drink during his convalescence. He wasn't that stupid!
When he was fully free to move, Jazz jumped to his feet, only too happy to regain his motor skills. Ratchet crossed his arms and looked at him:
-No sudden movements. No mission, no fight, so I don't want to see you in the training room. Stick to office work, will you?
-I'll try! Jazz replied, starting to leave.
-No, you don't ‘try’, you do it! That's all!
Jazz was already in the doorway, smiling broadly:
-Got it, doc!
Ratchet began to pull out his wrench:
-Oh, by primus Jazz, I'll...
Jazz immediately sped across the medical bay, narrowly dodging the wrench that flew past him and smashed into the wall. Jazz chuckled as he skidded down the corridor and quickly moved away from the infirmary, already knowing that Ratchet would follow him no further.
Ah, it was good to get out at last!
His first destination was definitely not his quarters - that would have been too easy- No, instead, he headed for the corridors of the high command.
On the way, he took advantage of the fact that he was no longer restricted to check his communications. He had many messages, from many Autobots. Messages of comfort, mockery too - friendly mockery, of course, soon followed by more worried messages - and whoa, even a few touching ones!
Blurr and Bumblebee were in the last category; they hadn't been able to come and see him in the infirmary, and they'd sent him some adorably worried messages, it was cute.
Jazz thought he should drop in to see everyone, maybe even organize a game night or a nice little party yeah. Although he was sure the twins were already planning something when they heard he was out.
He also saw a simple message from Blaster from the day before: “Mech, Prowl is so into you, he asked me about your taste in sweets, it's crazy!”
Jazz laughed. Of course his best friend would rather focus on his love affairs than his recovery, the bastard!
In fact, Jazz should probably make it a priority to visit him. Blaster had this tendency to try to remain constantly positive and to repress the negative far too much.
He didn't answer any messages immediately; if he did, he risked distracting those who were at work, and then he himself needed to focus on his destination.
He stopped in front of Prowl's office with his little smile, pressed the unlock panel, and entered without even knocking.
And... he stumbled.
Uh, the office was empty?
Jazz had to reset his optics, completely caught off guard for once. It was the first time he'd been in Prowl's office and Prowl hadn't been there!
He checked the schedules. No, no, he hadn't made a mistake, the mech was supposed to be there!
He frowned and stepped forward, walked around the desk and sat down at the tactician's chair, coming to read the neatly arranged datapads.
As he'd thought, Prowl had taken on a big chunk of his work, and that made the situation even stranger: Prowl found it hard enough to leave the office under normal circumstances, and when he had extra work one was sure not to see him at all!
Had a miracle occurred? Had Prowl finally realized that taking breaks was important?
With a lack of faith in this theory, Jazz put down the datapads and rocked back in the chair, concentrating on his HUD. He may have taken a 3-day break, but it hadn't made him lose his reflexes.
He launched programs and sub-programs to access the autobot database. A few manipulations here and there and... yep, he had access to the camera banks carefully preserved by Red Alert. He'd have to update the security. Hacking the Ark too easily was as exhilarating as it was worrying. If Jazz could do it, Soundwave probably could too.
Putting that aside, Jazz ran through today's video loops in rapid succession.
Carefully following what was happening in the corridors, he obviously saw Prowl going to his office early in the morning. The corridor was busy and... Ah, Blaster? Blaster never came to see Prowl. Usually, it was the other way around: Prowl made his way to the communications department.
Mm, odd.
Accelerating the video got us past the long wait, and Blaster emerged quite happily. Ah, good news? What kind of Mech - apart from Jazz himself - came out of Prowl's office so cheerfully?
Jazz continued to watch, until Prowl came out with a scowl on his face. Whatever they'd said in there, it had obviously delighted Blaster and annoyed Prowl.
Jazz followed the other surveillance videos, watching Prowl make his way to the entrance of the Ark, then transform into a vehicle and drive off.
This had happened several hours ago, and he obviously hadn't returned since.
Still puzzled, Jazz turned off the video feed and stood up.
He thought about going to the entrance to the Ark, perhaps trying to find Prowl himself, but then there was no point in going off blind.
Instead, he left the office and headed for Blaster's quarters, which weren't that far from his own. Just as he had done with Prowl's office, he fiddled with the entry pad, unlocking the door to enter the room........... Empty? Oh, not again!
Jazz pouted. What was that all about? Blaster was on duty at this hour? Rah, he hadn't thought of checking the video cameras for his friend, he'd only thought of Prowl! But if Blaster had left the Ark, Jazz would have seen him. So he'd gone somewhere else?
Jazz turned around again, this time heading for the recreation room.
Well, he wanted to avoid public exposure for a while, but obviously Primus had other plans for him.
Jazz entered the hobby room quietly. It wasn't full, but there were still a few mechas on break.
Jazz immediately spotted Blaster, seated at a table at the back... with Tracks.
OH.
The spy held back a chuckle, seeing how his two there were devouring each other with their gaze.
Right, okay, he was starting to see things more clearly: Blaster had finally got a date with his crush. And the bastard wasn't even texting to tell him!
Jazz didn't call him immediately, simply because someone else had called him first :
-Jazz!
Bumblebee was at another table, obviously taking a break with Hound and their young human friend Spike.
Jazz smiled at the minibot and moved closer to their table, sensing that the screaming had called out to the other Autobots in the room.
Bumblebee had stood up and met Jazz halfway:
-Ratchet let you out? Oh, are you all right? Do you need any help?
-I'm fine, Bee, don't worry! Jazz patted his shoulder. The evil Doc couldn't hold me for long anyway!
-Oh no.... Bee grimaced. Don't tell me you snuck out again!
-Ahah, I could have, but no, Ratch' let me out of his own free will!
Hound laughed:
-Knowing you, you must have negotiated fiercely.
-Negotiating is second nature to me!
Jazz retorted as he extended his fist towards Hound, and the mecha came to check with pleasure.
Spike, who was standing so small on the table, waved his hand for attention:
-I heard you were seriously hurt! he said worriedly. I'm glad to see you, but are you sure you're okay?
-Hey, do I look like I'm dying? Jazz winked. I'm fit as a fiddle, so the 'cons got to watch out!
-Ahah, I believe you!
Jazz felt a sudden weight around his shoulders. He wasn't that surprised; he'd felt Bluestreak approaching:
-No one can beat our second in command! the young mecha exclaimed enthusiastically. Wow, Jazz, we've all heard about your injury, it's crazy, you're so rarely hurt, and it's never that serious! Ahah, it's not even the 'con who hurt you either! It's crazy though, for you to get hurt it has to be you who gives the order, it's so cool, setting up a strategy that requires you to get shot, being ready to get hurt like that to get your team out of a tricky situation, it's really... !
Cliffjumper, who was sitting at another table with other minibots, grumbled:
-Slow down Blue, seriously.
-Ahah, sorry, I'm just super excited!
Cliff rolled his eyes before settling his gaze on Jazz:
-Hey, did you really order Mirage to shoot you?
Jazz returned his gaze. And although he maintained his smile, it was cold. Cliffjumper had long been one of those who accused Mirage of being a traitor, and it could even be said that it was partly his fault that Mirage had such a bad reputation.
-Yes. Jazz retorted without hesitation. We were in a delicate situation. There was no other choice.
-Okay.
And that was all, Cliffjumper accepted the explanation easily.
Yes, Cliff had been one of those who accused Mirage of being a traitor. But he'd also had occasion to realize that he was wrong, that Mirage was as devoted to the Autobot cause as any of them. And now, the red minibot seemed to feel a deep sense of guilt towards Mirage.
If only everyone here could have the same realization.
But Jazz could see the looks on everyone's faces. Not everyone was as vocal as Cliff in throwing accusations around, but that didn't mean they didn't think the same thing.
Jazz turned his attention away from his current group and back to Blaster. His friend had stopped watching Tracks to observe him, having surely been interpellated by Bee's scream.
Jazz's smile relaxed, Blaster's brightened.
Blaster looked at Tracks and said something, Tracks simply nodded, then Blaster stood up and headed for the energon dispenser.
-I'll leave you mechs to it, I've got work to do!
Jazz dodged his own discussion, slipping out of Bluestreak's grip, and made his way to the dispenser.
Blaster had already served two glasses, and handed one to Jazz.
The spy took it, not without a laugh:
-You know, Ratch' said to avoid medium energon.
-Were you going to obey? Blaster retorted with equal amusement.
-Surprisingly, yes. I promised I'd be careful, so he wouldn't try to send me to prison.
Blaster laughed warmly:
-Good old Ratch'.
Jazz relaxed and toasted Blaster, even if he didn't take a sip. That didn't stop Blaster from sipping his own drink:
-So you're fully operational? Did Prowl's candy put you back on track?~
Jazz elbowed him:
-Ahah, very funny~ And what about you? You see other guys behind my back?
-Oh no, darling, I can explain!
Blaster said in a falsely dramatic tone.
They laughed.
Jazz continued, still teasing:
-You didn't even come to see me for three days!
-I wanted to, but Ratchet limited the visits. And he said 'if you're going to drag him into your bullshit, I'd rather you stayed away from my infirmary! Blaster did a crude imitation of Ratchet, before sighing. I swear, it's cruel, isn't it? I had a playlist all set up for you, and they won't let me see you! But hey, at least Prowl got to come~
Jazz chuckled:
-Honestly... we can't blame Ratch'. Last time, you turned the infirmary into a nightclub!
-Hey, nightclubs are cool!
-I'm with you, buddy. But tell that to our old veterans~
Blaster sighed again:
-They don't understand my talent. Alala, I still remember the good old days on Cybertron... Everyone cheered DJ Blaster so fervently!
-I'm sure humans would love DJ Blaster.
-I'm sure they would. But hey, it's not like I can just drop my role as head of communications, right?
-No, that's true. No one could replace you~
Then Jazz went through their private communication:
-[::And besides, a quick question. Where did you send our dear Tactician?::]
He saw Blaster's expression change to surprise, then to laughter:
-Mech, really?
Blaster blurted out loudly before turning to their com':
-[::How do you always know everything, even when you're stuck in bed?::]
-[::I'm a genius, what do you expect?~::]
-[::Our 'dear tactician', not to say 'YOUR dear tactician', owed me a favor. I helped him choose the sweets for you, and in exchange he went to town to fetch me something::]
Jazz hid his surprise much better:
-[::Really? And he agreed to give up his job just to leave?::]
Blaster shrugged:
-[::Oh, you know, it's a security module for Red. So Prowl must have taken it as a job in its own right. Then it gets him out a bit. Two birds with one stone! And knowing him, he'll have delegated to Smokescreen so as not to fall too far behind::]
Jazz took a sip from his glass:
-When was he supposed to be back?
-Uh...
Blaster looked at the clock:
-Well, he should have been back an hour ago, I'd say?
This time, Jazz's cheerful smile flickered, and Blaster shivered slightly as he sensed the change in his friend's mood. Yeah, okay, he had trouble reading Prowl, but he had a lot less trouble with Jazz.
-Well, he's still not here. Jazz retorted, returning his nearly full glass of energon to Blaster.
-Um... Well, maybe he ran into traffic? Blaster tried.
-Did he tell you?
-No?
Jazz turned his back to leave, and Blaster tried to hold him back:
-B-But uh, ask Red Alert, maybe he'll warn him!
Jazz switched back to their private line:
-[::That's what I'll do::]
He didn't want his voice to betray his concern or the beginnings of anger.
Blaster watched him sheepishly leave the room. He had the distinct impression he'd screwed up. But at the same time, hey, Jazz was worrying about nothing! It's okay, Prowl was a big mecha, he could handle himself for God's sake!
Now annoyed, Blaster shuffled back to Tracks.
His date looked up at him with interest, and tilted his head:
-What's wrong?
Blaster dropped back into his seat, placing the two glasses of Energon on the table:
-I think Jazz is mad at me.
-Mm? Any specific reason for that statement?
-I asked Prowl to do me a favor, and he still hasn't come back. And Mr. Jazzy man is worried about his bot now.
Tracks raised an eyebrow, puzzled, a bit judgmental:
-And you only ‘think’ that Jazz is ‘mad at you? I'm ‘sure’ he's mad at you.
-But why! Blaster groans, pouting. Prowl's an adult, he's autonomous, damn it!
Tracks took a sip of his Energon, in one of those refined gestures that so fascinated Blaster.
-I think, Blaster, you know as well as I do that Prowl calculates everything, including his time. Being late is certainly not his style. Even if he had encountered a slowdown or an obstacle, he would have found a way around it.
-But... !
-And even without that, I think we're all well aware that Jazz and Prowl are close. If they weren't, Jazz wouldn't spend most of his time looking for him.
Tracks looked at Blaster again:
-So I think it's legitimate for him to be worried and angry with you for not doing the same. If you were late and didn't give any news, I'd be worried too, and angry if the others didn't worry with me.
Blaster's eyes widened at this statement. Then his face took on a lovely shade of red, similar to his armor, and he chuckled a little before burying his face in his hands:
-Awwwn!
He found it hard to remain unmoved, as this was clearly not his style, and this drew a tender smile from Tracks, who nonetheless pretended to roll his eyes:
-Instead of being so pleased with what I'm saying, why don't you try to get in touch with Prowl? If you can hear from him, it'll surely make Jazz feel better.
-Ah, I can do that, yes!!!
Blaster straightened up, as if struck by an epiphany.
Tracks watched him concentrate, Blaster surely passing over his communication... before he grimaced and looked even more sheepish.
-...
Blaster frowned, even though he looked like he'd just been really nervous. Tracks became more serious:
-Blaster?
The red robot grimaced and looked at Tracks, before standing up quickly:
-Sorry, I... I need to check something.
-Is everything all right? Tracks began to worry seriously.
-Maybe I'm wrong, but I really, uh, gotta check this out. Sorry, like...
Blaster began to walk away:
-So sorry, I'll see you later!
He hurried out, leaving Tracks alone at the table, deeply confused.
The line was blurred. Why was the line blurred?
Blaster tried not to panic as he crossed the corridors towards his workstation. It wasn't that Prowl wasn't answering: it was simply that the call wasn't working!
And yes, the difference was subtle.
Many a Mecha would have made the mistake: many would have thought that Prowl had simply hung up quickly, or had put himself on "do not disturb". But Blaster was in charge of communications, and had been for years. He was the head of communications, plain and simple! Communicating, listening, contacting, connecting... that was his thing, that was his programming.
So yes, he knew when a line was scrambled. When a line was open, normally usable, but impossible to connect.
People sometimes forgot that Jazz wasn't the only one who had to deal with Soundwave. Yeah, okay, Jazz was the best at hacking, and when he wasn't hacking, he was infiltrating the Decepticon base to steal information.
But communications, that was Blaster. Blaster could tinker with the airwaves to get messages through, but not only that.
It took effort, he didn't have Soundwave's talent, but tinkering with frequencies and decrypting transmissions was his job. He was the best Autobot in the business.
Prowl's line was jammed, so he couldn't even receive a call. And Blaster felt stupid: Jazz was right, something must have happened, the Decepticons must have come upon him and ambushed him. Or maybe it was Jazz who had managed to contact Prowl and scramble the rest of the line so they wouldn't be disturbed.
Blaster pressed on to the communications room. When he entered, Eject was there, quietly at work. Eject looked up at his carrier, surprised to see him:
-Hey Blast'. What are you doing here?
Blaster moved closer:
-I'm taking over my post, go and rest.
Eject tilted his head, puzzled:
-What, Tracks threw you out after all?
Blaster rolled his eyes and patted him on the back of the head:
-Don't talk like that, it went great.
-Hey! What are you doing here then?
-I've got to check something, and no, it doesn't concern you.
Eject pouted and stood up:
-Pff, okay, don't care.
Blaster raised an eyebrow, then smirked:
-You weren't even working, were you?
-Uh, yes, I was working very well!
-Mm-mm? So now, if I look at the history, I won't see a human soccer match that you intercepted and watched on duty?
Eject grimaced:
-It's American soccer !
-So you confirm?
Eject choked, fidgeted, then finally fled the conversation by leaping up and turning into a cassette.
Blaster laughed as he opened his frame, retrieving his cassette from inside.
As soon as he was alone, Blaster lost his smile. He sat down at the console and plugged it in immediately, then began tapping the keys and playing with the faders. He concentrated on Prowl's line, playing with the electronic signal on the one hand and the waves on the other.
He'd done this before, Soundwave's jamming evolving each time, but each time Blaster had the patience to get over it.
The minutes dragged on, punctuated by the little metallic noises of Blaster's fingers, the sliding of faders, the pressure against buttons, the crackle of communication, the clicking of the screen and... He perceived something:
-[::...didn't have to do that!!::]
Prowl's voice, still slightly sizzling. But Blaster was already relieved to hear him in full form, even though he sounded angry.
Then relief gave way to deep amazement when he heard another voice on the line:
-[::Prowl: must calm down::]
Blaster was speechless. It was Soundwave's voice.
[Earlier]
Prowl had finally retrieved the module from the laboratory.
He was angry, but had thanked the humans as politely as he could, before setting off again in the direction of the Ark.
He had, of course, reverted to his vehicle form and now had to retrace his steps across the desert, having to be careful not to damage the module.
He wanted to grit his teeth. He just wanted to get back to the base and get back to his files. Forget that 1 hour of wasted time, forget his connection with Laserbeak, forget ... all of it. Just a little.
He had spent the first half of the road in silence, brooding over his thoughts, when a communication request was sent to him. From an anonymous contact. Prowl would probably have rolled his eyes if he'd been in his bipedal form. Instead, he picked up, only to complain:
-[::I don't want to talk:: ]
-[::Soundwave: want to talk::]
Prowl hung up.
It was only a second before Soundwave called him back, and Prowl sighed loudly. He picked up again, annoyed:
-[::What?::]
He really wasn't in the mood, and he couldn't hide it. He was tired, annoyed, and Soundwave was the last person he wanted to talk to right now.
-[::Laserbeak: made a report. Autobot Prowl: connected to Laserbeak::]
Oh by Primus, leave him in peace! Prowl grumbled and retorted:
-[::What, was that a line I shouldn't cross? I didn't force him, he suggested :: ]
And why was he justifying himself in the first place? He didn't have to answer to Soundwave, on the contrary! It was Soundwave who had a debt to repay!
Soundwave looked annoyed:
-[::Answer: Soundwave informed. However: connection violently broken. Laserbeak: damaged::]
Prowl felt a pang of guilt.
Was Laserbeak damaged?
No, he shouldn't worry about that. He was an enemy spy, getting rid of him was a good point for the Autobots. Besides, 'damaged' was probably a dirty word. Prowl hadn't been that badly hurt!
OK, it had burnt him, and he'd felt nauseous, and a little unbalanced. But it passed! ... and Laserbeak had fallen pretty hard, but was it that bad?
...Had the little cassette felt the same as he did? Maybe even worse? Prowl shook off his thoughts, answering coldly:
-[::Should I be worried? We're not close as far as I know:: ]
There was a brief silence, then Soundwave replied:
-[::Answer: affirmative. Soundwave: is not close to Prowl. But Soundwave: thinks Prowl is better than that::]
Prowl almost swerved off the road, and his anger rose a little higher:
-[:: Better than that? Than what? A Decepticon and his tape? Do you really dare lecture me, Soundwave? I didn't even damage it on purpose! I warned him I'd break the connection if he overstepped the limits!::]
Soundwave took time to assimilate the answers. And just as Prowl was thinking of hanging up again, Soundwave's voice seemed softer, mixed with a certain surprise:
-[::Laserbeak : overstepping what limits?::]
Prowl pesta:
-[::I thought he'd reported to you::]
Soundwave was puzzled:
-[::Laserbeak: reporting a connection with Prowl. Connection: abruptly interrupted. Soundwave: has no further information::]
Prowl felt his spark pulsing harder. Soundwave's voice insisted:
-[::Laserbeak: overstepping what limits?::]
Prowl's engine whirred louder. His processor was hurting:
-[::The same as you. Contacting me when I've asked for nothing. Lecturing me as if the Decepticons were better than the Autobots! Big news Soundwave: I loathe the Decepticons, they're the worst thing Primus has ever done, and I mean that!::]
The words were spat out like venom.
The silence on Soundwave's side grew longer. Then he spoke again softly, as if the words had shaken him a little, probably because Prowl was one of the last mecha he could imagine losing his temper like that:
-[::Prowl: must calm down::]
This was the wrong thing to say. Prowl's anger grew:
-[::YOU'RE the one who came to scold me, and now YOU want me to calm down?! Are you making fun of me Soundwave? Is this a game to you? I saved you and now you think you can make friends like you did with Jazz? Oh no, sorry, you and Jazz are not friends, certainly not friends. You're so much more than friends! ::]
Soundwave replied more quickly:
-[::Soundwave: don't play. Soundwave: is-::]
Prowl cut him off:
-[::Soundwave is a manipulator with 100% certainty! Soundwave takes every opportunity to manipulate others and his tapes do no less! If Laserbeak hadn't tried to take my pity, the connection wouldn't have been broken, I wouldn't have to do that!!::]
Soundwave had another stunned silence, followed again by a request. An almost feverish request, compared to the previous one:
-[::Prowl: must calm down::]
Prowl wouldn't calm down. When Prowl exploded, it was unstoppable. But how could Soundwave have known that? Only the Autobot High Command had ever seen him in such a state.
-[::Why should I be calm? You're afraid Soundwave, you're afraid I'll tell Jazz anything? You're afraid you'll lose the advantage you have over him? I don't know if your story is real or not, I don't know if you love him sincerely or if you're playing with his feelings. But he believes it! He tells me it's not going to work out between you, that you're both too loyal to your causes, but the other great news is that this moron is so much more sentimental than he wants to believe! You think I don't notice the way he talks about you? The look in his eyes when he talks about you or when he sees you? ::]
Prowl had to reset his vocalizer, he hadn't even realised he'd sped up:
-[::Laserbeak has told me enough! Maybe your sob story would have worked on other mechas. Your adorable little cassette family, and you living the great forbidden love with an enemy Autobot. But hey, Soundwave, let's get serious...::]
Prowl laughed so bitterly:
-[::I'm a processor mecha, not a spark mecha. I don't care about your 'family' or your relationship with Jazz. The only thing I care about are Autobots. Just like the only thing you care about are Decepticons. At least we're alike that way. And when Jazz finds out that you wanted to manipulate me, with your so-called 'family' and your 'debt', even if it hurts, he'll know to stay away from you::]
And Prowl couldn't understand why his spark was pulsating so strongly. Why it was burning him again, so brightly. His processor was good: he'd calculated it.
Soundwave was a manipulator: 100% sure.
Laserbeak had wanted to manipulate him: 90% - increased to 95%.
Soundwave telling him he owed him: a trap, 90% sure.
Jazz's feelings for Soundwave? Sure at- Z̶1̵1̸1̸/̷/̸/̵0̷0̴0̷ ̶-̴ ̸a̷t̸ ̴9̸6̷.̴.̷.̷9̶7̶.̶.̴9̴8̸-...99... 100%
Prowl skidded off the road a little. This forced him to slow down, just a little. Soundwave was silent. Prowl's processor continued to check the calculations: Soundwave's feelings towards Jazz? Sure to... à... 0%... 50%? 100% 50%? 0% ? 0?111??1100??!!
Prowl gasped, slammed on the brakes and crashed, his processor nearly rebooting. He had a whole host of errors starting to appear. His spark was burning so hot he felt as if his spark box might melt.
It didn't matter how Soundwave felt about Jazz. It didn't matter whether it was love or purely strategic interest. Either way, the most important calculation was this: Soundwave wanted to manipulate Jazz: 100% sure because Soundwave was ...
-He's loyal to Megatron and his values-
Prowl turned off his lights. The nausea wasn't going away.
Soundwave's voice rose again. Cold.
-[::Soundwave and Prowl : are not the same::]
Prowl switched his optics back on. His vision was blurred.
He stammered in spite of himself, the pressure becoming too great:
-[::W-What do you mean?::]
Soundwave was more corrosive than acid itself:
-[::Soundwave: loyal to the Decepticon cause::]
Prowl's transformation began without a second thought. He fell to his knees in the middle of the desert road.
-[::You may be an Autobot, but Jazz is more important than your caus-::]
Prowl ignored his flashes of conversation, really ignored them as much as he could:
-[::I'm...::]
Jazz's voice rang out:
-I'm loyal to OP and his values-
And Prowl's voice imitated automatically:
-[::I am loyal to Optimus and his values::]
He felt like throwing up. The energon was stirring dangerously in his circuits and rising unpleasantly. He thought he could almost make out a cold sneer through the communication. Soundwave was laughing at him:
-[::Yet you saved me::]
Prowl's processor seemed to cuddle. He remained on his knees, trembling, staring at the ground without seeing it, his eyes glassy and wide. Soundwave's words were like sharp knives:
-[::Jazz may love me, but he'd never save me. You, you betrayed your side without hesitation::]
Communication broke down just like that. There was nothing but silence, an emptiness, too big and too cold and...
Prowl couldn't hold back the energon any longer. He regurgitated, hard, the errors on his HUD multiplying.
Chapter 13: When were you going to tell me?
Chapter Text
It was confirmed: Prowl hadn't sent any news to anyone.
Jazz had of course tried to contact him, without success, and he knew something was wrong.
It was impossible for Prowl to remain so silent. The fact that it wasn't even possible to contact him was a strong clue.
Jazz had sent a message to Red Alert, as well as Smokescreen, but no news from there either. No one knew where Prowl was, and Jazz didn't need to wait any longer to confirm his bad feeling.
He headed for the entrance to the Ark without the slightest hesitation, ready to fetch his mech himself.
No sooner was he outside than a firm hand was placed on his shoulder.
Jazz didn't flinch despite his surprise. He'd been so worried, he hadn't even noticed anyone had approached.
He turned, to see nothing but empty space.
Jazz pursed his lips, switching to private communication:
- [::Mirage?::]
He felt the hand on his shoulder tighten its grip, and Mirage answered :
- [::Where are you going?::]
Jazz squinted behind the visor. He turned his head to look toward the horizon, just in case someone caught him staring into space.
Mirage was never invisible for anything. He had to hide from someone. Maybe everyone. He had a tendency to do that, when other people's stares became too much to bear.
-[::I'll get Prowl::] Jazz replied [::No one's had news for hours::]
He heard Mirage sigh before he answered:
-[::You're still on standby Jazz. Ratchet said you had to rest::]
-[::How do you know that?:: ]
-[::It's an easy deduction. And I also hacked your medical records:: ]
If the situation hadn't been so tense, Jazz would have laughed.
Instead, he released his arm and started to walk away:
-[::I'll be back soon::]
-[::What if you run into some Decepticons?:: ]
Jazz rolled his eyes:
-[::I'll break them up::]
-[::Jazz, you stay right there::]
Again Mirage's hand stopped, and the nobleman became insistent:
-[::I'll go instead::]
Jazz tensed:
-[::What? No. You're off too:: ]
-[::Because I'm under investigation, not because I need to rest:: ]
-[::Who cares, you're off duty. And if anyone finds out you snuck out, Ironhide will make trouble again::]
Mirage patted him on the shoulder:
-[::No one will ever know. Last time anyone saw me, I was on my way back to my room::]
Jazz hesitated. Mirage didn't let go:
-[::Jazz. If you go, Ratchet will sedate you as soon as you get back:: ]
Jazz grimaced, then sighed loudly:
-[::Where did you learn to negotiate?:: ]
Mirage laughed:
-[::With you::]
Jazz gave a semblance of a smile. Then he turned away from the horizon, past Mirage's invisible form and back inside:
-::I'm counting on you::
In the distance, he made out the sound of transformation, accompanied by the sound of an engine.
Mirage was gone.
Jazz re-entered the Ark with a start. Well, not as casually as he wanted. He knew he was tense, his body was tight, he was struggling to get his chill smile back on, but hey, he could fool almost anyone.
The only one who could have seen something was wrong was Mirage. Maybe Bumblebee and Blurr too. They were trained to see that sort of thing after all, even if Jazz was clearly better than they were.
He wasn't bragging, he was just telling the truth.
He decided that the best thing to do for the moment was to return to his quarters, just to be on the safe side. But before that, he could drop by Prowl's office to pick up a few datapads and get on with the job...
He hadn't expected to see Blaster again.
He thought his friend would have stayed in the refectory, but instead saw him emerge from the corridor leading to the communications room.
Jazz had no intention of being mean. Granted, he was angry at Blaster for not having worried sooner, but that didn't mean the mech deserved the slightest insult.
He was about to call out, but Blaster noticed him, and then something really strange happened.
Blaster froze, his face betraying a grimace that he immediately tried to swallow.
Jazz lost the false smile he'd been wearing until then. The "nice second-in-command" mask fell away, replaced by the expression of the head of special operations.
Even when they argued, Blaster never had a look like that.
A look of apprehension.
Damn it, did Blaster really just recoil?
Blaster had just enough time to turn around, obviously wanting to get back to the communications room, but Jazz wouldn't let him.
Or rather... He gladly let him, going so far as to accompany him. Jazz caught up with his friend in a long stride and ran a hand up his back, plastering a smile on his face.
Blaster shivered with anxiety at his touch.
-Hey Blast', are you going somewhere?~
Blaster immediately avoided his gaze, which wasn't too difficult given that he was a good three feet above him.
Jazz's bad feeling almost swallowed him up, but he pushed it away:
-Hey, I'm sorry if I got upset earlier, I was a bit harsh.
Blaster made a feeble attempt to move away:
-No, no worries, of course.
Jazz strode towards the communications room, forcibly dragging Blaster with him, while Blaster suddenly didn't seem too keen to go.
-You had your date with Tracks, Jazz continued. I understand it's important. And hey, Prowl's a big mech, right? He can handle himself!
The mention of Prowl made Blaster flinch.
Jazz squinted. The visor hid how cold and calculating his gaze could suddenly be.
His voice was falsely cheerful:
-Still, I'm worried! Prowler doesn't answer my calls, that's rather worrying, isn't it?
Blaster noted the hint of danger in his voice. He almost swallowed as the doors to his workroom opened. There was no escape. His spark missed a beat as the doors closed behind them... and Blaster heard the distinct sound of the bolt.
Jazz had hacked the doors again. To lock them inside.
Damn.
Blaster gritted his teeth.
Fuck!
He pulled hard from Jazz's grip.
Jazz had only half expected this, having thought Blaster would remain fearful, not... ... angry?
Blaster took only a few steps away before facing him, optics frowning and jaw set:
-When were you going to tell me?!
Jazz gasped at this burst of anger. Instinctively, he hacked back into the room, checking the soundproofing and cameras.
-What are you talking about, Mech?
Blaster choked:
-There's no 'mech', and forget that stupid smile!
Jazz dropped the smile.
Blaster clenched his fists:
-So?! When were you going to tell me about you and Soundwave?
This time, Jazz was struck cold. He had to check his systems before speaking, fearing his voice would falter:
-I don't understand what you're talking about.
Blaster rolled his eyes exaggeratedly:
-Of course you don't know what I'm talking about! It suits you just fine, as soon as it's your problem!
Then he returned to look at him bitterly, as his fingers fumbled with his audio buttons, then Blaster's speakers broadcast a recording.
Prowl's angry voice rang out:
-{You're afraid Soundwave, you're afraid I'll tell Jazz anything?}
Jazz didn't react physically. Inwardly, he gasped.
Blaster didn't give him time to assimilate as he pressed another button, moving on to another part:
-{I don't know if your story is real or not, I don't know if you love him sincerely or if you're playing with his feelings. But he believes it!}
Jazz struggled to hold back his grimace completely, the corner of his mouth twitching just a little:
-Blaster, I-
Blaster cut him off by pressing the button again, and this time it was Soundwave's voice.
To anyone else, it would have sounded like the usual.
Except that Jazz knew the mech, and his voice was full of resentment:
-{Jazz : may love me, but : he'd never save me}
Jazz had to reset his emotional cortex, just to keep from panicking. It was a common method on the battlefield, to reset one's emotions so as not to be overwhelmed.
-Where did you hear that?
Blaster looked at him in shock, then stammered, before his voice stuttered a little:
-Is the only thing you've got to ask?
Jazz let no emotion show:
-I need to know where you heard it.
Blaster struck the nearest control panel:
-And I need to know how long you've been hiding THIS from me!
Blaster's desperate voice was an electroshock.
Jazz felt an electric current run through him. He spun his processor as quickly as possible, torn between playing his role as Specs Ops agent, second-in-command or friend.
His decision was made when Blaster looked up at him, his optics wet. Jazz found it hard to hide the feverishness in his voice:
-Since Iacon.
Blaster seemed to lose color. He opened his mouth, letting the words come and die before they were even heard. Then he shook his head as if he couldn't believe it:
-No, no, no, no.
Jazz took a step towards him:
-Blaster...
-All this time...? Blaster's voice broke in the middle. I thought it happened on Earth.... but it's from Cybertron?!
Jazz fell silent, no longer trying to argue. Not when Blaster was in no condition to listen.
Blaster moved away from the console and paced up and down, frantic:
-Y-You're having an affair with Megatron's right-hand man? It's not even just a random Decepticon! I-it's fucking Soundwave, Soundwave!
Blaster stopped, but he didn't stop moving for all that. He closed and opened his fist in a loop, like a spasm, and Jazz really had to restrain himself from moving closer to hug him. It wasn't the right time.
-And Prowl? Blaster managed to ask, staring at the ground, eyes wide. Why does he know? How long has he known? Why didn't he say?
Then the radio mecha seemed to remember something else, and he looked again at Jazz:
-What's all this about a 'debt'?
Jazz reset his vocalizer this time:
-I don't know how long he's known. But... he's obviously noticed my behavior, and...
Blaster understood without even knowing what was coming next:
-...and he saved Soundwave. For you.
Jazz was speechless. To say it like that was.... Jazz already knew, of course. But saying it like that made him more aware of the situation.
Yeah... Yeah, Prowl had... Prowl had never turned him in. On the contrary, he'd risked getting into trouble, for him, and Jazz realized how that could be misinterpreted.
He looked at Blaster, whose gaze he didn't like. It reminded him of the looks the other Autobots gave Mirage.
-We're not traitors.
Jazz snapped coldly.
Blaster flinched.
Jazz insisted before the other could cut him off:
-My relationship with Soundwave doesn't interfere with my job. I've never falsified anything that could harm the cause. I'm devoted to the Autobots!
Blaster pursed his lips, and Jazz hated it. He hated feeling that Blaster DOUBTED him. Of all the autobots, of all the mechas... it was he, his best friend, who shouldn't have given him such a look! ...Except that deep down, he had every reason to doubt, didn't he?
This realization sent another chill down Jazz's spine.
Blaster raised his hand. And again, he pressed the button. The sound of rewinding was heard, and then...
Soundwave's voice again. Cold. Angry. Still full of the same rancor.
{Yet you saved me}
{Jazz may love me, but he'd never save me}
{You betrayed your side without hesitation}
The words struck Jazz with brute force. Past the shock, a new anger seized him.
Betrayed his side? BETRAY YOUR SIDE? PROWL?!
Jazz had to reset his emotional cortex again, before fury made him do something stupid, like calling Soundwave right away.
-There's more?
Jazz asked as calmly as he could.
Blaster pursed his lips, then shook his head:
-No. The call ended there.
They looked at each other in a truly heavy silence.
Jazz could already feel the emotions rising too high. But he couldn't handle it, not now.
-Blaster, I screwed up.
Blaster looked away and grumbled:
-No, you think?
Jazz breathed in to calm himself:
-I should have told you. He chose his words carefully. But I assure you that all this...this situation... It hit me before I even realized it.
Blaster was tapping his foot nervously, but at least he wasn't cutting him off. He was listening.
Jazz continued:
-Sound doesn't 'play' with my feelings like Prowl seems to think. Because we're not together. Blaster gave him a suspicious look and Jazz held up his hands. We have dates, yes. We've already kissed. Blaster grimaced, but Jazz immediately continued. But I didn't plan for us to be a couple, or to form a spark bond. Soundwave is... Jazz sighed. It's a distraction, okay? From this mess. To this war. We're stuck on Earth, and I love Earth! But when can we go back to Cybertron? Will we ever get back? If we do, how many of us will make it?
Blaster's optics flashed with concern, and the red robot took a step towards Jazz.
Jazz shrugged, again trying to regain his calm demeanor:
-Look, I'm not the pessimistic mech. That's Prowl and Ironhide's job. But I don't want to fool myself: we're tired. The Decepticons are tired too. Seeing Soundwave, for something other than fighting, makes me feel better. We don't talk about anything sensitive. We just chat like two normal mechs. We flirt like two normal guys. As if there wasn't all this conflict ready to kill us all around us.
Blaster took another step in his direction.
Jazz fumbled for words.
They looked at each other more feverishly.
Jazz forced a smile:
-I'm sorry I disappointed you.
Blaster cracked and covered the rest of the distance, coming to take him in his arms.
Jazz switched off his optics, letting himself go in the embrace.
There was silence again. Then Jazz's falsely amused voice:
-You know I calculated my tone so you'd come and hug me, right?
-Shut up.
Blaster held him tight:
-You really are a glitch.
-I'm sorry. I just...
-I want to hit you.
Jazz gave a mirthless laugh:
-Yeah...
Blaster sighed loudly. He finally released him but put his hands on his shoulders:
-I'm still angry. I really am.
Jazz nodded his head without trying to smile.
Blaster stared at him, still furious, but there was no longer that gleam of doubt in his eyes:
-So, what are we going to do about Prowl?
Jazz swallowed his fatigue and took on a more determined air, quickly switching from simple autobot to head of Special Operations:
-Mirage is out looking for him. No one knows, you can't betray the information.
Blaster raised an eyebrow:
-Why Mirage?
-I was going to go, but he forced me to stay here, 'rest'...
-Tss, it's a good thing he's here to deal with your bullshit!
-Hey!
Blaster gave a quick smile, but regained his serious air as he released Jazz fully:
-But it'll get Mirage in trouble.
-Yeah. He's gone invisible. But if anyone notices he's gone...
Blaster ponders:
-Where's he supposed to be now?
-In his room.
-Okay, I can serve as an alibi.
Jazz wondered:
-What do you mean by that?
-I go to his room. You remotely hack the door and let me in, as if he'd opened it for me.
-And you stay there as if you were spending time with him. When he comes home, I'll tell him to go discreetly to his room. You'll both come out, and Red Alert will be able to testify that you were together.
Blaster nodded:
-Yep. But that...
-That'll depend on Prowl too, yes.
Jazz pursed his lips:
-Mirage hasn't told me yet. Maybe he hasn't found it yet. Do you have Prowl's contact details?
-I can get that for you through the comms, it'll only take a moment.
Blaster turned back to the console and typed.
A moment later, Jazz received the coordinates, which he immediately transferred to Mirage.
-Thanks Blast'.
Blaster looked at him:
-...I'm still angry.
-I know you are.
-You owe me one... no, two!
Jazz let out a smile:
-Even three if you want.
-Yeah, three's fine.
The pressure was off, a little. But Jazz could feel all the emotions he'd reset earlier coming back with a vengeance:
-Now mech, if you don't mind, I'm going to pretend to relax in my quarters, before our presence here becomes suspect.
Blaster nodded:
-Yeah, okay.
He looked at Jazz, and his face again expressed concern:
-Are you...okay?
Jazz started to answer, but swallowed the 'yes' that came. Returning to his mask of a smile, he answered, spark tight:
-No, I'm not.
Blaster was at a loss for words when he heard such a sincere answer. He could only nod weakly, and Jazz just gave him a little wave before turning and leaving the room quickly.
Blaster ran a hand over his face. He could have done with another drink there. And Tracks' arms.
Jazz took it in his stride all the way.
He didn't want to alert anyone to the emotional storm that was consuming him.
He plastered a smile on his face and walked briskly through the corridors, straight to his room.
As soon as he entered, he didn't drop the mask just yet. But before he did, he checked his quarters thoroughly. The living room, where he stored his instruments and the sitting area, the bathroom, then the bedroom...
Everything was safe, no spy cameras, no microphones...
Good.
Jazz exploded.
He hit the low table with all his might, bringing his fist down hard and precisely.
He didn't scream. The only sound was that of the table cracking and collapsing in the middle.
Jazz sat up slowly. He stared at the broken piece of furniture without really seeing it, staring into space.
He felt heavy, and he sincerely hoped that no one would come and find him, for he no longer had the slightest strength to socialize. He didn't feel up to talking or pretending right now.
He wanted to go and curl up in a ball in a corner, not move, not see anyone, just clear his head and recharge his batteries.
But it wasn't as if he wanted to cut off his communications just like that. Nor was it as if he could ignore a call or a request.
He'd have to wait to hear from Mirage and Prowl. Ratchet would probably also want to contact him to monitor his condition, not to mention OP or 'Hide who might come to find him too...
He dropped onto the sofa with a low sigh and closed his eyes.
He needed to settle down. Just... Just 5 minutes.
But the silence of the room felt so good and so disturbing at the same time. He didn't like being torn
between two contradictory things.
He opened his eyes again, watching an invisible spot... Then something occurred to him.
He opened his sub-space and took out his harmonica, freshly repaired by Prowl.
He brought it to his lips and gently blew into it.
The sound brought a warm feeling to his spark, mixed with bitterness. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn't cry.
He just played, letting himself be carried away by the music.
Chapter 14: We need to talk
Chapter Text
Mirage received Jazz's message with Prowl's coordinates when he was already well down the road.
He accelerated, seeing that he wasn't that far from Prowl. He now hoped that the tactician hadn't suffered an accident, or a Decepticon attack.
He had to drive for a while longer, before finally arriving at the coordinates.
The first thing he saw was a puddle of pink energon at the side of the road.
Mirage braked and resumed his bipedal form. He kept his camouflage active, analyzing the area. There were tire tracks, but no sign of an accident, no debris, no sign of a gunshot, nothing to suggest a fight.
But there was this puddle of energon that Mirage couldn't ignore. A puddle of energon... And other traces of energons, as well as footsteps, leaving the road and heading out into the desert.
Mirage analyzed the shape of the footsteps. They matched those of Prowl.
He followed them.
If Prowl had gone on foot, he couldn't have gone far.
Mirage walked for long minutes, paying close attention to his footsteps.
The heat was strong, really strong.
He had good protection against the sun, but like everyone else, he had his limits. His armor was burning up. He held back from activating his fans. He had to keep a low profile, just in case. He moved on, and on...
He saw rock formations, forming small hills. Nothing to do with the huge volcano into which the Ark had crashed, but still quite impressive.
He began to climb, slipping between the rocks, careful not to hurt himself. He could no longer detect footsteps; there was only rock, much less sand.
He managed to squeeze through another opening.
And he found him.
Mirage stopped short, too surprised by the sight.
Prowl was sitting in a corner, huddled over himself, his face hidden in his arms. He had the doors down. He looked so... So vulnerable. Nothing like the proud tactician he was used to.
Mirage didn't hesitate. He removed his camouflage.
The slight static noise made Prowl flinch.
-Hello, Prowl. Mirage tried gently.
Prowl didn't react immediately, as if assimilating that Mirage was really there. Then he slowly raised his head.
Mirage kept a gentle smile, but Prowl's gaze didn't leave him unmoved. He looked wary, but also exhausted.
-What are you doing here? Prowl was quite dry. You're not supposed to leave the ark.
Mirage simply moved closer, then sat down opposite him, leaving a small distance.
-Jazz is out of the infirmary.
Prowl's eyes widened, even lighting up for a moment... Then the glint disappeared, and he looked away, closing his eyes:
-Out, or escaped?
-Ratchet allowed him out, but imposed limits.
-...This idiot needs them, yes.
Mirage smiled in amusement.
Prowl fell silent again.
Mirage waited patiently, but it was clear that Prowl really didn't want to keep talking.
-... He wanted to see you. Mirage continued. But you weren't there. He asked the others, and tried to contact you. With no news from you, he wanted to come and get you himself.
Prowl gritted his teeth:
-He worries too much. I just... I needed a break.
Mirage nodded.
-I see. Don't worry, I told him to stay at the ark, and I came instead.
Prowl looked up at him. Mirage gave him an apologetic smile:
-I know, I had no right to go out. But it's better me than him, isn't it?
Prowl pursed his lips:
-...If Ironhide finds out, you'll be in trouble again.
-I'm 'always' in trouble. It won't be any different from usual.
Prowl held his gaze, unsure of how to feel about the nobleman.
-Do you mind if I tell Jazz I'm with you? Mirage asked.
Prowl hesitated. Then he nodded slowly:
-... If it reassures him.
Mirage thanked him with a nod, then sent messages to Jazz:
Mirage ::I'm with him::
Mirage ::I'll let you know when we come back::
He looked at Prowl again, the traces of Energon drying on his armor and mouth. He was beginning to understand where the energon he'd found had come from.
-Do you want to talk about it?
Prowl flinched again and seemed to go back on the defensive:
-Talk about what?
-About you hiding out in the middle of the desert and not telling anyone?
Prowl bit his tongue as he realized how laughable that sounded. He felt as if he were having a sparkling little tantrum.
-I don't need to talk about it, I'm... coming.
He was about to stand up, but Mirage reached out and put his hand on his shoulder, forcing him to remain seated:
-Prowl, sir, with all due respect, I don't think you're fit to return to the Ark. Not just yet.
Prowl grinned:
-I'm all right.
Mirage didn't let this deter him and pulled a rag and some solvent out of his sub-space.
-I doubt it. You should clean yourself up a bit before you do something like that.
Prowl glanced down at his body. He saw the traces of Energon and frowned. He accepted the cloth, soaked in solvent, and went to clean himself up.
Mirage waved at him:
-The face, too.
Prowl restrained himself from protesting, and cleaned his face.
Mirage nodded:
-That's better already.
Prowl returned the cloth:
-... Thank you.
-It's only natural.
He was about to put it away in his sub-space, before being stopped by Prowl:
-Wait.
Mirage looked at him. Prowl looked uncomfortable:
-... In fact, I'm going to need it again.
Mirage was intrigued, but asked no further questions. He returned the cloth.
Prowl took it, then opened his own sub-space to get out... Some kind of small machine? Mirage wasn't quite sure what it was, but there was Energon there too.
Prowl came to clean the machine as delicately as possible.
Mirage tilted his head:
-What is it?
-A module that Blaster asked me to retrieve.
There was silence again. Awkward. Prowl felt obliged to justify himself:
-I... Accidentally dirtied it.
-It happens.
Mirage's simple answer caught Prowl off guard again. He would have expected more questions. But Mirage just accepted the situation as it was, as if everything were normal.
Prowl preferred to stare at the module and concentrate on the smallest patch to be cleaned; it gave him an excuse not to look at the nobleman:
-Are you going to tell anyone? Prowl tried not to let his nervousness show.
-Who should I tell? I'm not even allowed to be here, it would be an unnecessary betrayal.
-It's true.
Another silence, during which Prowl set himself a particularly tough task.
Mirage watched without saying a word.
It was quiet. The sun was still burning brightly, but it was bearable. For the time being.
-Jazz told me you knew I was innocent. Mirage finally let go.
Prowl stopped dead in his tracks, then tried to resume as if nothing had happened:
-... I haven't finished my investigation yet.
-Haven't you? Then why did Jazz tell me such a thing?
-... Prowl sighed. Okay, I've more or less finished my investigation. And yes, you're innocent. But I don't have any acceptable proof to show Ironhide and Optimus.
Mirage nodded:
-I see. Jazz hinted at that too.
Prowl finished his cleaning, observed the now clean module, then handed the cloth back to the nobleman:
-...we should have concrete proof when Jazz has done what's necessary. Don't worry.
Mirage retrieved the cloth and put it away properly this time:
-I'm not worried about that. I'm trying, at least. He shrugged. I just don't want to get kicked out of Special Ops. But being seen as a traitor, that... I'm used to it. There'll always be someone to blame, no matter how much I prove my innocence.
Prowl pursed his lips:
-... It's true.
The tactician stared at him, thoughts invading his processor.
-Why are you staying with the Autobots? Prowl's question had slipped out before he could retain it.
Mirage looked at him in surprise:
-Excuse me?
-Many nobles have lent Megatron a helping hand. And those who didn't preferred to hide and flee the conflict, rather than take up arms. Why did you, in particular, join the Autobots? Why are you still here today?
Mirage was stunned by the question. He wasn't offended, far from it. It was just, well... The first time he'd ever been asked? Jazz already knew. But Jazz wasn't counting.
-Prowl, do you know where I'm from?
Prowl squinted:
-... Well, not exactly. You're from Cybertronian high society, aren't you? I seem to have heard you were an influential member in the days before the war.
-I'm from the Towers.
Prowl froze.
-... The Towers? The ones that...?
-The ones bombed by the Decepticons, yes.
Prowl struggled to control his fright.
Mirage gave him a poor smile:
-I was there when it happened. and his voice trembled just a little, but he pulled himself together. I don't remember much. The deafening noise. The rubble, the dust... Darkness and complete silence.
Mirage looked up at the clear sky above them.
-I really thought I was going to die that day. I must have been stuck there for days, draining my energon, watching my energy dwindle, with just the pain to keep me company.
Mirage looked at Prowl again:
-It was Jazz who found me. He wasn't an officer yet. He was with a rescue team, and he pulled me out of the rubble.
Mirage smiled a much softer smile:
-He was already an autobot. So, when the doctors got me back on my feet, there was only one thing on my mind: I wanted to join those who had saved me. I wanted to lend them a hand.
Prowl was mute. He knew that horrible things had happened to many of them. But this story resonated with him. Even if they didn't have similar experiences, he couldn't help thinking of his own hometown, which had also fallen to the Decepticons...
Prowl gritted his teeth.
-You must have been disappointed.
-...by the hospitality I received? Mirage shrugged. Well, a little. It was a blow to my ego. At the time, I thought I'd be cheered to join the fight. Instead, all I got was scorn.
Mirage gave him a reassuring smile, and Prowl couldn't help comparing him to Jazz. Was it a special ops thing, hiding your pain behind a smile?
Mirage continued:
-I told you, I'm used to it by now. But today, I've got people I can count on. I know Jazz, Bee and Blurr are with me. Even Cliffjumper seems to be on my side now.
-That's no excuse. You're a full-fledged member of the Autobots. We shouldn't doubt you.
Not when Prowl was so much more despicable than he was. Prowl was bitter just realizing that. Realizing how unfair it was to Mirage, who'd put his heart and soul into the cause and been rewarded only with distrust.... Where Prowl had no hesitation in saving a dangerous enemy just so the mecha he loved wouldn't be sad.
Crap.
-Prowl? Mirage looked at him worriedly.
Prowl realized he'd turned off his optics, his breathing heavier.
-... Maybe I'm sick. Prowl searched for an excuse. The sun's beating down, maybe I overheated my system.
Mirage didn't seem convinced, but said nothing:
-Maybe. Do you want help to get home?
-No. I'll just... transform quietly, and take the module back.
-I'll stay close to you. But I'll be invisible.
-That's fine with me. No one needs to know you've come for me.
Mirage stood up:
-Yes, of course.
Prowl got up too.
-... Mirage?
The nobleman looked at him:
-Yes?
-... Thank you. For looking for me.
Mirage offered him a smile:
-No need to thank me. I'm glad I could find you.
They left the rock formation, already feeling less tense than before, and returned to the road in an already more pleasant silence.
Mirage ::I'm with him::
Mirage ::I'll let you know when we come back::
Jazz felt all the tension leave his shoulders as soon as he received Mirage's messages. He even allowed himself to wallow on the sofa he'd been sitting on until then.
If he'd needed backup, Mirage would have said so. As it was, he seemed to be handling the situation, so Jazz could afford to take a breather, at least for the moment.
Right. The two mechs wouldn't be back for a while. Jazz had time to kill.
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, without really looking at it. He was more focused on his HUD, navigating between programs, fiddling with firewalls again, soundproofing the room, checking again for hidden microphones or cameras... -He had already done this when he entered his room, and was doing it again now that he wanted to launch a communication, and would probably do it again when he had finished said communication.
When he was satisfied with the security, he called Soundwave.
The mech didn't answer immediately.
This wasn't necessarily surprising, as Soundwave had a lot of work to do.
Jazz simply waited for the sound to drop into the void, then waited a little longer.
Soundwave called him back after 5 minutes.
Jazz picked up immediately.
- [::Hey, Sound::]
Jazz had tried to make his voice as friendly as possible.
Clearly, he didn't succeed, for Soundwave replied:
- [::Jazz: Angry::]
Jazz grinned:
- [::No, you think?:: ]
Soundwave didn't answer. At least, not immediately. But when he spoke again, Jazz heard a coldness he didn't appreciate at all:
- [::Prowl: a waste of time. Prowl: hurt Laserbeak:: ]
...Well, Jazz regretted not listening to Blaster's full recording. He'd have to remedy that, just to catch up on the news.
Jazz was good at pretending he had the right information:
- [::And how's Lase'? Is he recovering?::]
Soundwave betrayed his annoyance with a faint sigh:
- [::Laserbeak: stunned. But Laserbeak: will be fine. State: resting::]
Well, it couldn't have been that bad, otherwise Soundwave wouldn't be talking to him so calmly, and Prowl's corpse would probably have been reported by now.
Soundwave held a grudge, and he could take drastic measures.
That didn't stop Jazz from feeling that deep sense of bitterness, though he tried again to be calm:
- [::Ok, that's better. I'll bring him some treats when we meet::]
There was silence, then Soundwave's surprise showed in his voice:
- [::...Jazz: come back to visit Soundwave ?::]
...Okay, Jazz REALLY should have listened to the whole recording. He'd clearly missed most of it.
What could have happened that was bad enough for Soundwave to think Jazz wouldn't want to see him again?
Jazz continued the attitude of the informed, almost chill mech:
- [ ::We need to talk, face to face:: ]
It could just as easily have been an undertone of 'I want to see you' as 'I want to yell at you'.
Soundwave could make up his own mind.
Soundwave remained silent again.
Jazz didn't like that. He liked their teasing, their verbal jousting. Not this silence.
Finally, the answer from Soundwave arrived:
- [::Request: when?::]
Jazz pondered, reviewing everyone's schedules, as well as his own, also taking into account Ratchet's recommendations... then after synthesizing, he answered:
-[ ::Tonight, between 0135 and 0220:: ]
-[ ::Answer: Right:: ]
And just like that, Soundwave hung up.
Jazz pursed his lips. He straightened up, far less relaxed than he had been a few minutes ago. He reopened a private communication, after his paranoia had once again made him check all his security:
-[ ::Blast', I need a new service:: ]
-[ ::It's getting to be a lot. What's up?:: ]
-[ ::Can you transfer me the full recording of what you played me earlier?:: ]
He preferred not to be too specific. Just in case anyone was listening -as if anyone was really listening, other than Soundwave, and Soundwave was clearly not in the mood-.
Blaster took a few moments to reply, and it was with the requested file. Then the radio robot added:
- [::Anything else?::]
- [::No, it's all good. I'll pay you back Blast::]
Instead of a sympathetic reply, a wink emoji or a joke, Blaster left it in 'view'.
Jazz suspected as much, but the sensation of having broken something between them hit him much harder than he'd anticipated.
He reset his emotional cortex -again- just to make sure he was fully focused on what he was about to listen to.
He started the recording and made himself attentive.
{ You're afraid Soundwave, you're afraid I'll tell Jazz anything? }
>>>acceleration>>>
{ He tells me it's not going to work out between you, that you're both too loyal to your causes }
<<<<Back<<<<<
{ Soundwave is a manipulator with 100% certainty! }
<<<<Back<<<<<
{ I loathe the Decepticons, they're the worst thing Primus has ever done }
Soundwave felt a weight on his knees.
He snapped out of his inner listening, to look at Ravage.
They were in the bedroom. Soundwave was sitting upright on the bed, silent.
Laserbeak was curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, in the little nest that Rumble and Frenzy had improvised for him to recharge.
The twins had decided to stay close to him, and had dozed off.
Soundwave would have to do something about it, like take them back to bed, but he feared waking them.
Ratbat was also in the nest, dozing against his brothers.
And then there was Ravage, who had climbed onto the bed to come onto his lap, and was looking at him with concern.
He didn't go through their bond. Instead, he whispered:
-Are you okay, boss?
Soundwave watched him for a long minute, a little slower than usual. He felt in a strange state. A state he neither understood nor appreciated. He nodded:
-Soundwave: doing well.
Ravage tilted his head:
-Laserbeak will be fine, you said so yourself.
-Answer: affirmative. But Soundwave: still worried.
Yes, he was worried about his cassette. And about that stupid conversation with Prowl.
{ He tells me it's not going to work out between you, that you're both too loyal to your causes }
Soundwave restrained himself from clenching his fists.
Why was he even giving credence to what this Autobot was telling him? His relationship with Jazz was all about them. Soundwave had involved Prowl only because he thought he was useful to his plan. And that was still the case, even if it was proving more difficult than expected.
{ I saved you and now you think you can make friends like you did with Jazz? }
Prowl was perceptive. But was he really? Soundwave wondered whether Prowl had spoken seriously, or on the spur of the moment.
The main problem was that Soundwave didn't know what Laserbeak might have said. His tape was damaged and tired, and he hadn't tried to make it talk any more than necessary, or to force a connection to read its data.
He would have to wait until Laserbeak was better before he could learn more.
Had his little tape really made a mistake? Had it revealed his plan? Had it simply spoken without much thought and Prowl had felt threatened? Because Prowl was a clearly paranoid autobot, he could see danger even where there was none.
A bit like Jazz.
Both were very suspicious. That's what made them such formidable enemies.
It was also what made the relationship difficult.
-Boss? Ravage called out to him.
-Request: What's wrong?
-Did something else happen?
Soundwave remained silent. He hadn't played or mentioned his call with Prowl.
His tapes didn't need to know.
-Answer: negative.
Ravage stared at him, with that spark of doubt in his eyes. But he didn't insist, and settled back more comfortably against his wearer.
Soundwave came to caress him distractedly, as once again, the recording played in his processor.
-{ Soundwave: thinks Prowl is better than that }
-{ Better than that? Than what? A Decepticon and his tape? }
Soundwave held back his fans from activating as anger revved his engine.
Prowl had dared to imply that he was better than them. That Autobots were better than them!
At least Jazz treated him as an equal. At least Jazz didn't think he was more deserving than anyone else. At least Jazz was... !
{ He tells me it's not going to work out between you }
Cold replaced heat, and Soundwave stopped stroking Ravage.
Behind his visor, he didn't realize that his optics had gone wide.
His own words came back to him:
{ Jazz : may love me, but : he'd never save me. }
Jazz would never have saved him. Jazz had already looked at him hesitantly, when they were on the battlefield. Jazz had already called out his name when Soundwave was in real danger.
But Jazz had never made the slightest move to save him.
Not once.
Not that Soundwave would have. No, he'd never saved Jazz either. He'd never tried to. He'd already seen Jazz in danger. He'd almost killed him himself.
Jazz and Soundwave were alike. Much more alike than anyone else.
Manipulating was second nature to them, including those around them. They were true to their values, their ideas. They were willing to do anything to achieve their goals.
Soundwave could have died in the last battle. Jazz wouldn't have saved him.
But Prowl did.
Prowl had rushed to him as soon as he'd been hit.
Prowl had dragged him to safety, out of range.
Prowl had nursed him back to health.
Soundwave remembered the words he had spoken with difficulty:
-Prowl: help Soundwave?-
Prowl hadn't replied. But his expression, usually so hard, so hateful, had changed, just at that moment. Just as they looked at each other.
Prowl's expression was one of doubt, panic and incomprehension.
Prowl had saved him without thinking. Prowl had betrayed his own without thinking, just for him.
Just for Jazz.
Prowl had done all this because he loved Jazz. He loved Jazz and it was impossible not to see that. It was impossible for Soundwave to ignore that fact.
Except that Prowl had saved him.
Prowl had accepted their communications, without even putting a whole bunch of security in place.
Prowl had come when he'd asked to meet, even though they didn't know each other that well.
Prowl had kept him informed of Jazz's condition, when he wasn't obliged to.
Prowl had done all this for Jazz, of course. Except that Prowl had done more than Jazz ever had.
Prowl had trusted him. Trust enough to accept a connection with Laserbeak.
Jazz had done this before, too, but always with a well-prepared virus, just in case he needed to deactivate the tape.
Soundwave felt his spark pulse.
Oh no.
-Boss? Ravage's voice rose again, as he looked at his carrier with even greater concern.
Soundwave hadn't been able to control his emotions. His tape must have sensed how upset he was.
-...Soundwave ... he hesitated, still assimilating this realization. Soundwave: is ...
He couldn't finish his sentence. It seemed too big.
Then Prowl's voice came back to him again:
{I loathe the Decepticons, they're the worst thing Primus has ever done}
Prowl hated him. Prowl knew he was manipulating at will, and he'd had to tell Jazz about it. And now Jazz wanted to see him, probably to break things off for good.
To break off a relationship that obviously only existed in Soundwave's eyes.
Soundwave was going to lose them both.
Ravage stood up, watching his carrier clutch his head in his hands. Worry invaded the link, alerting the sleeping cassettes, who were roused from their slumber.
They turned to their carrier in alarm.
Frenzy was the first on his feet to run towards Soundwave, coming to rest his hands on his knees, and the others followed, messages flooding their private communication:
-[::Boss, what's wrong?::]
-[::What's the matter?::]
-[::What's going on?::]
Soundwave switched off his optics, barely realizing that his fans had activated, helping him breathe easier:
-[::Soundwave's plan: a failure::]
Oh by Primus. No. No!
It wasn't just Jazz and Prowl.
Soundwave raised his head, his panic growing.
His cassettes, too, looked at him with real fear.
Soundwave couldn't fail. Not while he had a phantom sensation on his frame, the feel of a hand with sharp claws rasping against its surface, and while Lord Megatron's threat struck his processor:
{Don't disappoint me}.
His tapes were in danger.
He had to get Jazz and Prowl back here. Whether he wanted to or not.
Chapter 15: I'm here for you
Notes:
A quick note: there will be no new chapters until August 6!
Thank you for your understanding, I can't wait to see you again!
Chapter Text
When Prowl arrived at the Ark, he was expected.
Jazz was at the entrance, leaning against a wall, arms crossed.
Prowl bit his tongue as he reverted to his bipedal form. He heard Mirage transform, although he couldn't see him. Then he felt the spy overtake him.
He was probably returning discreetly to his room.
Prowl let him do so and also stepped forward to enter.
-Hey, Prowler!~ Jazz greeted him as he always did, with his quiet smile and sunny voice.
-Jazz. The tactician nodded. You're out of the infirmary.
-Yeah, I convinced Ratch' to give me some space!
Prowl passed him, but Jazz followed close behind.
The praxian was looking straight ahead:
-I need to see Red Alert.
-I know, you've got the module he wanted, right?
Prowl pursed his lips. As usual, Jazz knew everything.
Prowl breathed:
-That's it.
Jazz smiled and put an arm around his shoulders:
-I'll come with you, then we'll have a drink!
Prowl tensed on contact.
Jazz had a feeling of déjà vu, but this time, compared to Blaster, he knew why the praxian was like that.
Prowl tried to pull away:
-No, I've got to work, and you'd better get some rest.
Jazz tightened his grip, keeping him close:
-You're back from a long run, you should rest too. Let's have a drink in m-your quarters?
Jazz remembered in mid-sentence that well, his bass table was always broken, so inviting a bot into his home wasn't the best idea.
A slight spasm ran through Prowl's door wings.
He winced.
Jazz wondered if the tactician was going to throw one of his explosive tantrums. Even if he had already done so.
-I don't want to drink anything. Prowl retorted. Leave me alone.
Prowl tried to free himself, but his energy reserves were low. The heat had almost overheated him. He was too exhausted to just stand aside.
Jazz could see that, and while he REALLY needed to talk to him privately, he also REALLY wanted the mech to settle down, before he collapsed.
-Prowler, seriously. Look at me.
Prowl squinted and slowly turned his head toward him. He flinched when he saw that Jazz had lost his smile.
-You need to rest, and I need to talk to you.
Prowl had a bad feeling. Did... Did Jazz know anything about this? ... Had Soundwave contacted him? Told him anything?
Prowl's spark accelerated. Soundwave's voice echoed in his mind:
-You betrayed your side without hesitation.-
He felt nauseous.
What did Jazz think of him? He'd thanked him for saving Soundwave.
But then what?
Jazz had told him:
-I'm loyal to OP and his ideals-
Jazz was loyal to the Autobots.
Soundwave still echoed in his head:
-Jazz may love me, but he'd never save me-
Did Jazz see him as a traitor? He didn't tell him, because he loved Soundwave, but deep down he saw him as a traitor?
...Prowl was...was really a traitor, wasn't he?
-Prowler? Jazz's worried voice brought him back to reality. Hey, Prowl!
Prowl realized the air was no longer flowing. No matter how hard he breathed, it felt like a weight was pressing down on his chest. A heavy weight that prevented him from catching his breath. He couldn't even speak.
Jazz released his shoulders, but took his hand, forcing him to stop.
He looked at him as gently as he could:
-Hey, Prowl. He took a deep, slow breath. Easy, do as I do. He exhaled deeply.
Prowl tried to do the same, without success. The weight was still there, as heavy and suffocating as ever.
Jazz patiently took another breath. Then another exhalation.
Prowl tried to imitate him, still with great difficulty.
It was laborious. Too laborious.
Jazz pressed his lips together:
-Okay, let's try something else. We'll breathe in together, then hold our breath and count to 10, okay?
Prowl nodded slowly.
He and Jazz breathed in together and mentally counted to 10...., then breathed out again.
It was hard again. But Prowl felt something move this time.
They did it a second time.
A third time.
Prowl's chest ached, but the air returned, and Jazz gently caressed his hand, and somehow it was reassuring not to find himself alone in... this kind of crisis.
-Are you okay? Jazz murmured.
-...Yes...
Prowl sighed, lowering his eyes:
-Sorry about that...
Jazz chuckled:
-Hey, no, don't apologize. I'd rather you thank me for being there!
-Thank you, Jazz.
Jazz gave him a tender smile:
-My pleasure, mech.
Prowl felt his face heating up. He preferred to plunge into denial, telling himself it was the sunburn from earlier.
Jazz didn't let go of his hand, even when things calmed down.
To tell the truth, Prowl didn't know if it was to continue reassuring him, or if it was to stop him running away.
In any case, Jazz spoke again:
-So...can we have a drink together? Would it make you more comfortable if we did it, I don't know... somewhere else? Outside maybe? There's a nice forest nearby.
Prowl sighed softly and shook his head:
-...No, my quarters will do fine. You... need to talk to me in private, don't you?
Jazz fell silent, then nodded:
-Yeah. But if it makes you too anxious, I can adapt.
-I'll be fine. Really, it is. I just have to stop by Red Alert first.
Prowl searched for words, then added:
-You can go and get some Energon, I'll give Red the module, and... I'll meet you at my place?
Jazz hesitated, probably because he feared Prowl would back out.
But Prowl, who was much calmer now, seemed quite honest in his proposal.
Jazz nodded:
-Okay, let's do it.
-Great. See you soon.
-See you in a bit.
They didn't take long.
Prowl handed the module over to Red Alert without a hitch, although the security mecha questioned him about his prolonged absence and lack of message.
The praxian managed to reassure him, at least as much as Red Alert could be reassured.
For his part, Jazz went quickly to the recreation room, but only took a glass of energon, because he was still -unfortunately- on medical energon.
As agreed, they found themselves in front of Prowl's room. It was almost impressive how well they matched, arriving at exactly the same time at either end of the same corridor.
Prowl approached the door and unlocked it:
-You'll have to excuse me, I don't have a sofa like you. Or candy. Or cake. Or television. Or television.
Or instruments, radio etc etc.... The list went on and on.
Prowl didn't even know why he was justifying it this time - Jazz had been in his room before! Well, often in the blink of an eye, staying most of the time on the doorstep, or last time it was... To talk about Soundwave.
Well...
All this to say that he didn't have a room as welcoming as Jazz's.
No, instead, Prowl had a neatly arranged bunk in one corner of the room, an equally neatly arranged desk right next to it, with stacks of datapads similar to what you'd find in his office-goodness, Prowl worked this hard even in his quarters-and a bookcase, filled with more datapads.
Jazz held back a grimace. They weren't all reports, were they? Or strategies or anything else work-related?
In fact, the saddest thing about it was how there was nothing else: no decoration on the walls, no extra furniture to display knick-knacks, nothing.
If you took the datapads off the shelf and off the desk, it would have looked like an unoccupied suite.
Jazz had already been able to take a look at the place, but now that he was in a situation where he could observe better, it struck him how much it was... Depressing.
-It's okay, mech. I can take the chair or sit on the bed.
-Yes, make yourself comfortable.
Prowl huffed, feeling himself getting a little nervous again. He was very apprehensive, even if it wasn't at the same stage as before.
Jazz took the initiative, seeing that Prowl wasn't indicating anything, and went off to bounce on the bunk.
Well, he didn't bounce that much - it was as hard as cement!
-OK mech, come here!
Jazz called out, tapping the spot next to him.
Prowl was hesitant but soon joined him, sitting down beside him, and the awkwardness seemed to increase.
To compensate, Jazz took out the energon cube he'd brought with him and handed it to Prowl.
-Thank you, Jazz.
Prowl huffed and took a sip. That's when he realized how hungry he was.
Before he knew it, he'd devoured the whole cube.
Jazz laughed:
-Damn, I should have taken more!
Prowl blushes with embarrassment:
-No, it's fine, really.
-Don't be shy mech, you're allowed to be hungry!
Jazz gave him a friendly pat on the back.
Prowl made a little outraged noise, but gave a tiny smile, before resuming his seriousness:
-Let's get straight to the point, Jazz. What did you want to talk about?
Jazz lost his smile, looking back at him.
Gosh, Prowl and his habit of always talking straight... At least he didn't waste time, but he didn't give us the opportunity to set the right mood!
Jazz stood up straighter, putting on his Chief of Special Operations expression.
This was a serious discussion:
-You first. Is there anything you'd like to tell me?
Prowl pursed his lips, then looked away.
Jazz frowned behind his visor:
-Seriously, Prowl. I told you to let me know if Soundwave contacted you again.
Prowl grimaced:
-... You already know, so why do it?
-I just know it by chance. Would you have told me if I hadn't come to see you?
-I didn't think about what I'd do when I got home.
-But was there any chance you would have told me? Because it looked like you were going to dodge me.
Prowl didn't even realize his doors were lowered, betraying his spite and guilt.
-No, you're right. Prowl affirmed. I wasn't going to talk to you about anything.
Jazz watched him without making a move:
-Why not?
Prowl shrugged:
-Because... By Primus, what do you want me to say?
-... Uh, I don't know... That you had a fight with Soundwave? That's a good start.
Prowl pressed his lips together. Jazz insisted:
-That you apparently hurt Laserbeak? That you blamed Soundwave for manipulating you and me?
Prowl remained silent.
Jazz stared at him, waiting for an answer that didn't come, so he continued:
-Mech, I'm not even angry that you accused him of that. I just don't get it. If you really don't trust him, why don't you tell me? Unless it was accusations you didn't mean?
Prowl squeezed the sheet under his fingers:
-... I don't know.
-... You don't know?
Prowl shook his head:
-... No, I don't know.
Prowl looked up at Jazz:
-... What exactly did Soundwave say to you?
-He didn't say anything. He's not the one who told me about your conversation.
Prowl wondered:
-... What?
-Hey, you remember we've got a communications whiz in our midst, right?
-.... Blaster?
Prowl was stunned:
-...I...he's... Wait, he heard everything?
-Part of it. Heard and recorded.
Prowl froze:
-... No. oh no.
Prowl clamped a hand over his mouth in horror:
-...Did he tell anyone else?... Wait, so he knows about you and Soundwave?
-... Yep.
-...Oh no... No no no...
Prowl kept his hand over his mouth as he stared at the ground, eyes wide, slowly realizing all this implied.
-... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... No one was supposed to hear that. No one was supposed to know, I didn't mean...!
Jazz's hand came to rest on his leg:
-Hey, Prowler... Shh...
Prowl looked up at him, feeling his eyes moisten.
Jazz moved closer, pressing their shoulders together:
-It's okay. I've discussed it with Blast'. It's OK, everything's fine.
-But... Did he take it badly?
-Yeah, yeah, he totally did. But he won't say anything, don't worry.
Jazz patted his leg.
-And I know you didn't want to reveal anything. Really, Mech, I don't blame you about that.
Prowl tensed. ''About that'....?
-...so you do blame me. Prowl understood.
Jazz didn't answer.
Prowl lowered his head again.
-...For picking on Soundwave?... Because your relationship doesn't concern me?
Jazz shrugged:
-Who told you that?
-Soundwave implied it. And I deduced it.
Prowl clenched his fists, his throat in knots. But he was ready to accept his feeling.
-...or else... Is it because I saved Soundwave...?
Jazz's jaw tightened:
-No. he answered almost too quickly.
-... No?
-Let's get one thing clear right away: you're not a traitor.
Prowl shuddered. He looked up again, too stunned.
Jazz, despite the visor, seemed genuinely angry, but not at Prowl:
-Sound can be a fucking glitch. He hits where it hurts. But I'm telling you: you're no traitor. And if anyone has the audacity to say something like that to you again, they'll have my fist in their face.
-... But... Prowl felt his vocalizer being shot through with static electricity. I saved an enemy. I met him in private. I've... I spoke to him several times in private. And I connected to Laserbeak...
Jazz barely held back his surprise. A connection with Laserbeak? Jazz had already done it, of course, taking three thousand precautions in advance. But for Prowl to accept a connection? Whoa. Whoa!
-And it was during the connection that you hurt him?
-... Prowl looked at him with slight incomprehension. ... Didn't you... heard the whole conversation?
Jazz made a vague movement with his shoulder:
-Part of it.
-I met Laserbeak on my way out. We connected to talk. And... I disconnected us without warning.
Jazz struggled to hide his grimace:
-Shit. No wonder Sound was angry.
Prowl felt sheepish and guilty:
-... Is it that bad?
-Well, for mechas like us, it's bad enough. But for a small cassette, it's really a big shock. He'll need several days to recover.
Jazz felt a little guilty for finding Prowl's expression cute at the time.
The mech looked genuinely concerned and involved with the tape, which he wasn't close to last time he checked?
Jazz patted his leg again:
-It's okay, mech, don't worry. If it was serious, Soundwave would have come and blown up the Ark by now!
Prowl didn't exactly have the spark to laugh:
-The fact that it's true doesn't reassure me at all, you know?
Jazz tapped him on the shoulder:
-Awn, on the contrary, see this as good news! As long as we don't hurt the little ones too much, we're safe!
Prowl sighed frankly:
-You depress me.
-Because of my unfailing positivity? You're pushing it, mech!
Prowl gave a thin smile that didn't last:
-So, you're mad at me because...?
-Mainly because you were going to hide all this from me. Jazz shook his head. Prowl, you got yourself into this because of me. You don't have to deal with this on your own. And above all... it's my business. If Soundwave does anything to you, it's my business. His tone was firmer. And it concerns all the Autobots.
It was true. Prowl was the chief tactician. If anything happened to him, it was bound to have a big impact on their group.
Such simple logic made him sit up straight. He wasn't a Sparkling. He was an Autobot officer. This was certainly no time to be drowning in his feelings and dragging others down with him:
-You're right. I apologize again. He looked at Jazz. Ask me what you want, I'll answer it.
Jazz felt reassured that they were back on the same wavelength.
-Great. And no pressure, mech. If you need a break, just let me know. He waited for Prowl to nod, before asking. I'd like to know what happened with Laserbeak.
Prowl switched off his optics to recollect, running his processor.
-I noticed it late. I arrived in town and was told that the module wasn't ready. I decided to go for a walk, and spotted Laserbeak. He tried to hide in an alley, got stuck in one of those human fire escapes. I helped him get unstuck.
Jazz didn't interrupt, just listened, but yeah, another pleasant surprise. He could just imagine Prowl pulling the little cassette out, handling it with the utmost care and a touch of clumsiness.
Prowl continued:
-He didn't try to run away once he was out of there. I... mocked him? A little?
-Did you?
-Hm... I pointed out to him that it was dangerous to stay near me when I could capture him.
Jazz almost laughed:
-And he mocked you back because, despite the warnings, you didn't do anything to him.
Prowl reactivated his optics, looking puzzled:
-I think so, yes? He was fidgeting and I couldn't quite make out what he meant. Finally, he showed me his connection ports.
Wow.
Jazz hid his surprise again, but whoa. He'd had to wait a loooong time for the tapes to accept the slightest connection! And now Prowl was alone with Laserbeak once, and the bird was accepting directly?
Jazz was impressed, but also very doubtful. Why all of a sudden? Because Prowl had helped Soundwave? Did the tapes feel indebted? Or because Jazz had already alluded to the fact that he and Prowl were friends? That was something to dig into.
Far from suspecting all of Jazz's thoughts, Prowl continued:
-I accepted the connection and...
Prowl frowned, replaying his memory bank.
-and?
-He laughed and said I was paranoid.
Jazz let out a chuckle:
-Oh yeah, classic 'beak!
-That's no fun. I was suspicious for a reason, he wasn't suspicious enough!
-Pff, ahah, yes yes, certainly.
Prowl pouted a little, but refocused:
-He assured me that Soundwave wasn't 'online' and therefore couldn't listen in or see what was going on. So we had a quick chat. Of the other Decepticons who couldn't read his gestures, or who weren't worried about his absence... thinking about this again gave him an unpleasant feeling. He moved on. He told me he'd already connected to you too.
-Yeah, he did. But let's just say I've got my own special programs to prevent any hacking.
-Well, I...I checked my firewalls before I did anything.
-And we both know that's not enough if someone competent wants to hack you.
Prowl felt a hint of shame again, though a little less keenly. He hadn't been careful, not at all.
Then Prowl remembered what had happened next...and tensed.
Jazz noticed and questioned him with his eyes.
Prowl dodged his optics but spoke. After all, he had told Jazz that he would tell him everything:
-Since that moment, I've been feeling something unpleasant. Knowing that Laserbeak, and maybe the other tapes, are only well treated by Soundwave... I think I started to feel worried. He wasn't sure, but that's what it seemed, and admitting it out loud made him feel like a traitor again. ...I'm not familiar with connections, but Laserbeak obviously felt that way, and he asked me if I'd hesitate to shoot him on the battlefield.
Prowl paused. Then he admitted, with a lump in his throat:
-The worst thing is... I think it would be.
Jazz ran a hand down his back, stroking him gently.
Prowl gasped, then turned his gaze towards him. Jazz gave him a weak smile:
-Me too.
-What?
-I talk to these little things every time I see Sound. Do you really think I can point a gun at them without feeling sick?
Prowl was speechless:
-You...Really?
Jazz shrugged, looking much chillier than he really was.
-I always try to find a way not to hurt them. My goal is to keep them from hurting us, without hurting them.
-That explains why it's so hard to capture them. I thought it was Soundwave who had trained his tapes so well.
-Yeah, no. They're well trained, but believe me, I've had to intervene quite a bit to keep things from going wrong.
Jazz offered him a slightly more feverish smile:
-You know, I told Blaster... I told him straight to his face that my relationship with Sound ‘doesn't interfere with my job’. That I'd never "falsified anything that could harm the cause."
-...
-I lied.
Prowl felt his spark tighten.
Jazz seemed to hesitate to look away, but did not. He took it in his stride and continued:
-I'm devoted to the Autobots. I want us to win. I know Optimus's vision is the one that convinces me, is the one we need. And I'd really like to... I'd like to say that I'm ready to make whatever sacrifices are necessary for that. Jazz was at a loss for words for a moment. But then I find myself face to face with the little ones. Face to face with 'beak or 'age who infiltrate the Ark, and I manage to intercept them before they steal too sensitive data... but I can't bring myself to harm them, to separate them from their carrier, to subject them to torture or to force their processors to obtain information. I could do it, but I don't. I let them go. I let them go. And I know they'll come back, and I know they'll manage to steal data, one way or another. They already have. My negligence has already caused trouble.
He gave a forced laugh:
-I'm just 'too' good, you know, at hiding information, hiding evidence. Ironhide spends his life accusing Mirage, but frankly Prowl... Mirage is so dedicated to the cause, and I...
Prowl grabbed his hand, squeezing hard, and Jazz cut himself off.
-I...
Jazz watched the optics staring at him, waiting, listening, and without... without that flicker of disgust, or mistrust, or judgment. There was concern, there was tenderness.
Jazz struggled to formulate the rest of his thoughts. To tell the truth, what he breathed next wasn't even thoughtful:
-What would Optimus say when he found out...?
Prowl didn't answer, but his face said it all: he didn't know either, but the apprehension was enormous.
The praxian felt he was a traitor... but he was slowly realizing just how wrong Soundwave had been. How wrong... How Jazz had acted against the Autobots, no matter how much he believed in their cause.
Prowl was slow in his movements, but he gently put his arms around Jazz, and before either of them really understood it, Jazz was snuggled up against Prowl, his head resting against his shoulder.
It felt good to be held strong. To be able to just weaken, without fear of being challenged.
Jazz couldn't do that with Mirage or Blaster. He couldn't let go completely. Nor could he do it with Soundwave. Not if the Decepticons were to take advantage of his weakness.
He had to be strong and unflappable.
So did Prowl.
Except that Prowl had already started to crack in front of him, and it was his turn, wasn't it?
Jazz had a faint thought, an inner laugh telling him that hey, it was rather a fair return.
He hugged Prowl a little tighter as he spoke again:
-What happened next?
-I 'm sorry?
-With Lasebeark.
Surprised that he'd come back to the original subject, Prowl quickly recovered and refocused on his memory:
-He asked me not to feel sorry for him, that he knew what he'd gotten himself into. But then we talked about his...brothers. He asked me if I had any, or if I was close to anyone in particular.
-And you answered?
-I said I didn't have to tell him that kind of information.
Jazz laughed:
-Classic you.
-You think I'm paranoid too?
-That's your charm~
Prowl rolled his eyes:
-Rah, shut up.
He refocused:
-...I asked him why he was interested. If it was to find out my weak points. He hesitated. ...He told me he was curious, because...I'd helped Soundwave and... because you liked me.
Jazz raised his head to look at him. Their faces were very close now.
-Yeah? Jazz encouraged him to continue.
-...He asked me why I'd helped Soundwave... and why I'd helped him too.
Jazz continued to wait for the next step. Prowl hesitated more and more, and lowered his voice:
-We may be at war, but that doesn't mean I like letting mechas die, even if they're enemies. he repeated what he'd said to Laserbeak, word for word, a little robotically.
-and?
-... Prowl resumed in a hesitant voice, And he said it didn't justify helping the enemy without trying to capture them.
Jazz nodded, agreeing.
Prowl reset his vocalizer:
-He said I did it because...
-You like Jazz-
His voice trailed off before he could finish. He couldn't say it.
Jazz waited.
Prowl remained silent, his lips trying to form words that wouldn't come.
-....... Prowl breathed in. Because you love Soundwave.
Half the truth.
Prowl forced himself not to turn off his optics again:
-And he told me about you. About your dates. About your relationship. About making each other happy, off the battlefield.
-That's why you helped the boss, isn't it? Because you didn't want Jazz to be sad-
Jazz continued to look at him, and Prowl began to feel that heaviness rising in his chest again:
-That's when I got mad. His jaw tightened. I accused him of trying to manipulate me. Of seeking my pity so that I would help them again, him, Soundwave, the other tapes.
-Do you like Jazz? Enough to protect my boss and us, his tapes? You may be an Autobot, but Jazz is more important than your c̷a̶u̵s̵e̴-̵
-I disconnected by force and left.
Prowl concluded. Jazz didn't need to know the rest. He didn't need to know Prowl's feelings toward him. He didn't need to know that the chief tactician was the equivalent of a sparkler in a mediocre romantic series.
Jazz straightened up properly, breaking off their hug, pulling their faces apart, even if their bodies remained close.
-...Yeah, I see. I think you're right, 'beak probably did it on purpose, somehow. he looked thoughtful . He's no fool. I don't think it was completely calculated, but he must have suspected that telling you personal things would attract your spark.
That didn't stop Prowl from feeling regret. He should have cut the connection less violently.
Jazz looked at him again:
-What about the discussion with Soundwave?
Prowl sighed:
-He called me when I was on my way back. I told him I didn't want to talk. He insisted. He tried to straighten his door wings, not wanting to appear too downcast. He blamed me for breaking the connection with Laserbeak, but nothing else. He wasn't aware of our discussion.
Prowl winced as he recalled what had happened earlier. It was still too recent; he hadn't digested it:
-I was so angry, I let it all out on him. I told him that just because I'd helped him, it didn't make us friends. That I wouldn't feel sorry for him or his tapes. That he, um...
-That he couldn't manipulate you the way he manipulated me?
Prowl shuddered.
Jazz shrugged:
-Another thing I could blame you for, mech. Hey, do you have so little faith in me that you think I'm being manipulated?
Prowl tried to give him a blasé look:
-You yourself admitted to failing in your duties.
-Argh, it's true. Jazz grinned at him. Okay, I understand the reproach then.
Then Jazz nudged him:
- then, another question... am I really a... how did you put it? Ah, yes: a 'moron so much more sentimental than he wants to believe'?
Prowl grimaced again, before rolling his eyes:
-Are you really asking?
-I guess that means 'yes'.
Prowl sighed:
-Is that all you wanted to know?
-No, just one more thing.
Prowl raised an eyebrow at him.
Jazz pursed his lips in a thin line:
-You threatened Soundwave with telling me everything, so I wouldn't go near him again. And you would have been right. You could have lectured me, you would have had plenty of legitimate arguments to tell me to stop my relationship with him. No, actually... Jazz's voice lost its warmth, becoming colder again. You could have reported me, on several occasions. You could have told Optimus. You coud have done a lot of things, but you didn't.
-You intercepted me on my way home.
-Prowl, I just forced you to talk to me. Were you really going to say anything? And even then... You tell me what happened, but never once did you say 'Soundwave is bad', 'Get away from him', 'Don't see him anymore'.
Prowl felt he had his back against the wall. He had no good excuse to give. No good reason why he should remain silent.
- you didn't want Jazz to be sad -
Laserbeak knew him too well.
-Would you have stopped seeing him if I'd confronted you about it? Prowl asked.
-...Probably not.
-Then what's the point?
This time, Prowl definitively broke their closeness by standing up. He needed to be on his feet, to regain control of the situation:
-We have the same goal, after all. We want to end this war. We both have our share of responsibility...and our mistakes. But even if you could call us 'traitors'... We both know that the Autobots need us.
He looked at Jazz:
-My tactical processor is too important. Your experience and multiple abilities are also too important. We're two major assets. What would happen if the others learned of our involvement with Soundwave?
His processor began its usual calculations:
-50% chance we'll be put in prison. 90% chance it'll be useless, given your escape skills. 85% chance it'll destroy morale and everyone will start doubting each other, jeopardizing our army.
He looked at Jazz with the same seriousness he had when strategizing:
-We've got to put a stop to this. Me and Blaster know about your relationship, it's only a matter of time before other people find out, and it gets out of hand.
-I know.
-I'm not telling you to stop seeing him, because even if you do...will it make your feelings go away? For him, or for his tapes?
-No.
Prowl nodded:
-Exactly. So we have to do things differently. I'd like to say we have to end this war, but we both know that if it were that simple, it would have been done long ago.
-And what do you propose? We tell Sound to join the Autobots?
Prowl looked at him.
Jazz cringed at the silence, then laughed almost nervously:
-Prowler, are you kidding? Soundwave to join the Autobots? Really?
Prowl bit his tongue:
-Why not?
-I've told you. He's loyal to Megatron and his values.
-As loyal as you and I are to Optimus?
Silence. Jazz lost his false smile:
-Neither of us is planning to join the Decepticons.
-No. But we're not losing anything by asking Soundwave to join us, are we?
Jazz sighed:
-He's going to laugh so hard at us.
-Well, I guess we know where his tapes get their humor from?
-Like father, like son, eh?
Jazz stretched:
-Weeeeell.
He jumped to his feet, regaining his zest, his face once again flashing a big smile:
-Okay, I'm in. At this point.... I have to meet him tonight, between 0135 and 0220.
Prowl frowned:
-And you're just telling me now?
-Hey, you're the one who was holding out on me in the first place!
Prowl nudged him:
-Admit you weren't going to tell me.
Jazz laughed:
-Let's say I hesitated~ But now you know! He put his hands on his hips. At least now that I've caught up with the news, I know where I'm heading. I'll ask him to join us then... Ah, and I'll have to reassure him too.
-Reassure him?
-Hey, Babewave's sensitive, you know! If you threatened to break us up, maybe he thinks I'm really going to dump him. You should have heard him when I called! Poor guy, he was even surprised that I offered to see him again!
Prowl pouted. He had that pain in his spark again, without really understanding what it was due to. Jealousy at hearing Jazz give a nickname and speak so fondly of Soundwave? Guilt at potentially panicking the Decepticon?
Prowl sighed:
-Do you need help sneaking out?
-I've already made my plans so as not to be seen. But if you can be my backup and serve as my alibi, that's fine with me.
-Okay, let's do that.
Jazz came back and put an arm around his shoulders.
-Cool. Glad to have you, partner~
Prowl rolled his eyes, but regained a semblance of a smile.
He just hoped this meeting with Soundwave would go well.
Chapter 16: Do you want to 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪 ?
Notes:
Back from the break! Here is the new chapter of “Logic leads Me to You”
After talking with Prowl, Jazz must now see Soundwave. How will this play out?
Chapter Text
Jazz had barely left Prowl's room than he was already wondering what he was going to do with his day. As he was convalescing, he found himself restricted as to what he could do. And as proof, no sooner had he reached his office than he saw Ratchet waiting for him at the door.
-I thought you'd escaped.
Ratchet commented, staring at him half-seriously, half-amused.
Jazz chuckled:
-No, I was just checking on Prowler.
-I heard he'd been away for a while.
-Yeah. Maybe you should look him up, I found him warm to the touch.
Ratchet frowned.
-Did he get sunstroke? Tss, and you think he'd come to see me himself to check it out?
Jazz smiled in amusement as he stepped past him, opening the door to his office. He entered, Ratchet following him inside.
There was a clear difference between Prowl's office and Jazz's.
In Prowl's office, there were neatly organized datapads, a single chair to welcome a potential visitor, and that was all.
Jazz's, on the other hand, didn't seem to contain any datapads at all (they were well hidden) . But it had a good seat to collapse on, as well as three equally pleasant chairs for potential meetings, and in case those four seats weren't enough, there was a sofa in the corner.
Jazz sat down quietly on this sofa, continuing to smile at Ratchet:
-And you, have you come to keep an eye on me? I thought you were supposed to send other bots to see me, not do it yourself!
Ratchet rolled his eyes:
-Because you think I trust this bunch of manipulable idiots? You'll soon have them fooled, and I'll feel more at ease checking you out.
He moved closer to him and took out a glass of medical energon, which he handed him.
Jazz accepted it and sipped, while Ratchet clearly analyzed him with his eyes:
-How are you feeling? No dizziness, no weaknesses of any kind?
-Nop and nop. Ratch, I haven't even been out for an afternoon.
-Exactly! Ratchet sighed loudly. You should still be in the infirmary... I shouldn't have let you out...
Jazz tapped the seat beside him and Ratchet watched his movement warily, before agreeing to sit down beside him.
The spy patted him on the shoulder:
-Ratch, I'm fine, really.
-If I won shanix every time you said that...
-Roh, mech, come on! I'm following your instructions, I'm not getting out of the ark and I'm not back to work yet! I even went to my room to rest before going to find Prowl!
Ratchet looked at him suspiciously, but it was hard to read Jazz...
-Okay, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Now, swallow that cube down!
Jazz exclaimed:
-Wow, we're doing medical energy shots now?
-Tss, you'd have to go to the limit to get you morons to drink it.
Jazz kept a smile on his face as he took a drink, under Ratchet's watchful eye.
-::Should I come with you?::
Ravage was settled in the wheelchair in front of the surveillance monitor.
Soundwave was standing, watching the screens, and didn't turn to the tape even when he spoke to him over the link.
He did, however, reply:
-::Answer: negative::
Ravage continued to stare at his carrier's back:
-::Are you sure? You look worried::
Soundwave hated it when his oldest cassette was so perceptive.
-::Soundwave: not worried. Soundwave: just preparing to go out::
-::What's there to ‘prepare’? Lord Megatron will allow you to go and see him if you tell him it helps your plan::
Soundwave didn't answer this time.
He hadn't told Lord Megatron about this outing. Probably he should have. If anyone found out, he'd be in trouble. But his relationship with Jazz was... It was private. It was between the two of them. He didn't want to go public.
He wanted their rendezvous to remain intimate and secret. Even if it was to be their last.
Soundwave swallowed.
The very idea that this rendezvous might be their last almost made him turn the tank over, and he cleared his throat to push through the knot he felt knotting.
He wished he'd had more time to think and spy on the arch . He didn't know what Prowl might have reported to Jazz, and especially how he might have spun it. A piece of information didn't have the same impact depending on how it was delivered.
How should he handle Jazz?
He already had a logical argument to counter Prowl's accusations. No , he wasn't manipulating Jazz with his feelings, proof being that their relationship barely impacted their mutual work. No , he wasn't trying to manipulate Prowl either, he simply owed him a debt, and Jazz knew full well how well Soundwave honored its debts.
Yet one sentence from Prowl came back to Soundwave's mind:
-He tells me it's not going to work out between you-
Had Jazz really said such a thing?
-that you're both too loyal to your causes-
It was true, of course. They were loyal to their causes.
But from that to ‘'not going anywhere’' between them?
...Let's just say there was a difference between knowing it, and hearing it.
And at what point did Jazz confide such a thing to Prowl ?
Soundwave felt upset.
It was obvious that Prowl and Jazz were close. To claim otherwise would be to be in denial. It was even more obvious that Prowl loved Jazz, more than just a friend.
But knowing that Jazz could confide in Prowl about this... What else was he confiding in Prowl that he wasn't telling him?
-when Jazz finds out that you wanted to manipulate me [...] he'll know to stay away from you-
Soundwave clenched his fists, and narrowly closed his link with his tapes before they could sense the tumultuous emotions growing inside him.
Jazz couldn't walk away from him. He wouldn't. He had no right to.
And if he dared, Soundwave had no intention of going easy on him.
Jazz lay down on the bunk and set the alarm. Better to get some rest before confronting his boyfriend.
So he reloaded, and fortunately was awakened at the appointed hour.
To tell the truth, he didn't feel completely rested, a side effect of his operation and the medication, but hey, he'd make it - he'd had worse!
He jumped out of bed and went into spy mode. He reviewed the base's programs, cameras and guard towers. He had already planned his itinerary and the schedules that went with it, but it was always good to check one last time.
A little hack on the cameras, no big deal, just a little glitch to hide his exit from the Ark and... Jazz was gone.
He knew every blind spot, every patrol route, and had even made sure that Ratchet wasn't working overtime, and that he wouldn't bump into him by accident!
Leaving the Ark was a piece of cake for the head of Special Operations, and he headed off into the forest, towards the coordinates where he and Soundwave could meet up undetected.
The forest a few kilometers from the Ark was dense and easy to slip through, and Jazz had already checked that Red Alert hadn't planted any traps, cameras or the like.
Their chief of security was cute, but too paranoid and...ah, yeah, Jazz could see the irony in his thoughts.
Anyway.
Jazz navigated through the vegetation, between trees and bushes, and arrived at the usual cramped little corner.
Soundwave was already there, early as usual. What was less usual was that he hadn't settled in with one of his tapes. He always had Ravage, Laserbeak or Ratbat snuggled up to him and cuddled while he waited for Jazz.
This time, Soundwave was standing by, very formal in his attitude.
-Hey, Sound! Jazz smiles at him as he quietly approaches. The little ones were too tired to follow you?
Soundwave stared at him in silence, before answering in a cold voice:
-Jazz: seemed to want to talk in private. And Laserbeak: needs to rest.
Jazz shrugged:
-Oh, okay. I had planned some candy but, hey, another time.
He stopped near Soundwave, but didn't try to initiate contact. When Soundwave was in a bad mood, he preferred to leave him alone.
-So...I guess you can imagine. But we need to talk about what happened with Prowl.
He saw Soundwave tense up. It was very discreet, but Jazz had learned to read it easily.
The Decepticon was uncomfortable, nervous even. He kept his field tight against him, not allowing Jazz to sense his emotions.
Jazz, in return, stretched out his field, wanting to show him that all was well:
-It's been a long day, right?
Soundwave seemed surprised by this approach, so... normal? Comforting? Yeah, clearly, he was expecting Jazz to be angry.
Jazz understood this and continued on his way, really wanting to show him that everything was all right:
-You and Prowler had a good clash. Would you like to try the Rap Contenders by any chance?
-Soundwave: not interested.
-Oh, come on man, you love spitting on others and rapping!
-Soundwave: prefers retrowave. Soundwave: doesn't need rap to ‘clash’.
Jazz laughed:
-That's for sure. But it's a shame, I'm sure you'd have a lot of success with a good rap! Blast' could accompany you on the sound~
Soundwave shook his head as if rolling his eyes:
-Soundwave: Better than Blaster. Blaster: Inferior. Soundwave: Superior.
Jazz chuckled naturally:
-Soundwave, full of ego, yeah. Blaster isn't that bad!
-Blaster: Very bad.
Poor Blaster, always getting insulted for no reason!
Jazz took another step toward the other mecha:
-Okay, okay, you don't like Blaster's style, I get it!
His feet were still moving cautiously, he didn't want to come on too rough:
-So... Did you try to make friends with Prowl?
He repeated Prowl's words. This had the effect of making Soundwave tense up again. Soundwave had a slight spasm in his hands, as if he wanted to clench his fists but held back:
-Answer: negative. Prowl: inferior. Prowl: uninteresting. Soundwave: doesn't need to be ‘friends’ with Prowl.
Jazz raised his hands in a gesture of peace:
-Whoa, okay, okay.
Soundwave was furious. Jazz tilted his head:
-...You're really mad at him, huh?
-...Prowl: hurt Laserbeak.
-He feels bad about it, you know?
Soundwave stared at him.
Jazz tried to tune into his field, wanting to understand his emotions better.
Soundwave hadn't even removed his visor or mask, so he couldn't read him as well as usual, but he could tell that Sound was suspicious.
-Prowl: was clear about his intentions. Soundwave said bitterly. Prowl: belittled the Decepticons. Belittled Soundwave and his cassettes.
Anger was rising, this time Soundwave clenched his fists:
-Prowl: said he “ loathe ” the Decepticons.
Jazz made a small grimace. Yeah, he understood why Soundwave was so resentful about it.
-Want me to admit something to you? Jazz asked.
Soundwave tilted his head slightly, a sign that he was listening attentively.
Jazz smiled amusedly:
-OP has already cried after an argument with Prowl.
Silence.
Then Soundwave uttered the only response he could:
-Request: pardon?
Jazz chuckled:
-Prowl is kind of... AWFUL when he gets angry. Really awful. He always tries to be, you know, calm, logical, in control of himself, that kind of thing. But, haha, when he's pushed to the limit? By Primus, you don't want to be around.
He shrugged:
-That's no excuse, I grant you. But just to let you know... Everything he said to you was in the heat of the moment. When he explodes, his logic processor shuts down, and he just blurts things out without filtering them. He can say some really horrible things. You know we had to weld the tables in our offices? When Prowl loses it, he flips everything he finds. Ironhide had to work from his room for days.
Soundwave was... stunned. There was no other word for it. He stared at Jazz as if he were mocking him, except that his expression was sincere. That was the worst part.
-Soundwave: Would never have believed it.
-Yeah, I know. Not many people see that side of him.
Jazz took another step closer, now right next to Soundwave:
-... I'm serious when I say he's worried about Laserbeak. He asked me if he was okay, if it was so serious that he disconnected like that. Jazz smiled a little more tightly. You know, Prowl is a loner, he's not the type to accept connections. I'm even surprised he accepted one with 'beak!
-Jazz: must be lying.
-I swear I'm not, mech.
Jazz dared to reach out and gently placed his hand on Soundwave's frame.
Soundwave shivered.
-Prowl: thinks Soundwave is manipulating him.
There was another silence. Then a slight noise: that of a visor retracting.
Soundwave flinched when Jazz's optics appeared, shining bright blue and amused:
-Because that's not the case?
-...Answer: affirmative.
Jazz chuckled:
-Of all the mechs, you tried to manipulate the one with the best Cybertronian processor for analyzing and calculating probabilities?
-.... Answer: affirmative.
Jazz shook his head, laughing:
-Damn, you're lucky I love you!
Soundwave gasped.
Jazz looked at him with curiosity and confusion.
-... Request: what did Jazz say?
Jazz smiled more gently:
-You're lucky I love you?
-...
Soundwave finally moved his hands and placed them on Jazz's waist:
-Jazz: never made such a statement. Jazz has... Jazz...
Soundwave reset his vocalizer:
-... Prowl: threatened to take Jazz away from Soundwave.
Jazz's gaze was clouded with guilt. He seemed sorry. Sorry that Soundwave had been led to believe such a thing, sorry that Prowl had said something that had frightened him.
Jazz sighed:
-I told you, Prowl says a lot of nonsense when he's angry. He placed his other hand on his second shoulder. Seriously, if he wanted to get rid of us, wouldn't he have done it earlier?
-Prowl: looked serious.
-He wasn't going to tell me anything when he returned to the base. I was the one who forced him to reveal your conversation to me.
Soundwave's field began to make itself felt, just a little. There was astonishment, incomprehension:
-Inconsistency: Prowl has a logic processor. Request: why does Prowl act so emotionally?
-Because Prowl is a mech like us? Hey, don't tell me you also believed the rumor that he was a drone!
-Answer: negative. If Prowl were a drone, Prowl wouldn't have been so angry.
-Ahah, that's true!
Jazz invited him to lean in.
Soundwave did so, bringing their foreheads together.
Jazz planted a teasing kiss on the mask:
-You know, Prowl actually suggested me something.
Soundwave's expression betrayed his curiosity. He said nothing, waiting for Jazz to elaborate.
-It's just a suggestion. And of course, you can take your time to think about it.
-Jazz: beating around the bush. Request: what exactly does Jazz want?
Jazz sulked:
-Could you and Prowl stop always getting straight to the point? I'm trying to be tactful and not rush things.
He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly... and wow. He elicited a tiny laugh from Soundwave. It made him smile. He liked hearing Sound laugh.
-Okay, okay. So... I know you're like, super loyal to Megs.
Soundwave's field changed immediately. Almost too quickly, suddenly becoming very wary:
-Soundwave: doesn't like where Jazz is going with this.
-Oh, come on, mech, let me finish!
-Jazz: better not suggest what Soundwave thinks he's suggesting.
Soundwave said this coldly as he straightened up, pushing their faces apart, but not letting go of Jazz's waist.
Jazz pouted:
-Wouldn't you like to join the Autobots?
This time, Soundwave let go of him and even stepped back as if he had been burned.
-Jazz: Think about what he just said.
Jazz pressed his lips together. He refrained from putting his visor back on.
-Sound, listen...
-Request: stupid. Jazz: stupid. Soundwave: refuses.
Jazz sighed, still trying to keep his cool, but honestly Soundwave's reaction made him feel bad, even though he had expected it:
-I know it sounds crazy, but Prowl agrees with this. If we could be on the same side...
-Jazz: can join the Decepticons.
Jazz tensed up.
-...Are you kidding?
-Jazz: First to suggest a stupid idea.
-...Okay, yeah. I see what you mean.
Jazz put his visor back on. He felt a little too vulnerable without it.
-Okay, you don't want to leave Megs, he's your hero, blah blah blah, I get it.
-Megatron: not just a hero. Megatron: leader of the revolution. Megatron: strong. Megatron...
-Megatron is a fucking genocidal maniac who believes that everything can be won by force.
Jazz replied much more sharply than he would have liked.
Damn, that was the main reason why Soundwave and he never talked about their politics or values: it was a minefield. They probably didn't see things the same way.
Soundwave clenched his fists tightly:
-Prime: false leader. Autobots: fighting for the upper class. Decepticons: fighting against injustice.
Jazz inspired:
-Sound, we've already had this debate. He replied with a neutral expression. That may have been true at first, but you can see how things have changed. The Autobots fight for everyone. They fight for peace, and Optimus isn't like Sentinel. He's not for the upper class, he's for equality for all. And Megatron...
-Jazz: Naive. Prime: All the same. Megatron: Fights against false leaders.
-Megatron wants war! That's all he wants! He's driven by hatred and revenge! Jazz had to take another breath to lower his voice. ...Look what he's doing to the Humans. They're not part of our conflict. We've included them against their will. They're willing to share their resources with us, but Megatron prefers to attack them and steal their resources by force!
-Humans: inferior. Decepticons: superior.
-Is that all you care about?!
Jazz bit his tongue.
Soundwave held his breath.
They stared at each other's visors in heavy silence.
Jazz took another step toward his companion:
-Sound... Aren't you tired of fighting all the time? Don't the little ones want to live in peace?
-Jazz: not allowed to talk about the tapes.
-What, why? Because it's your weak point?
-Jazz: unpleasant.
Jazz shook his head:
-Mech, I want your kids to be okay. I want you to be okay. I want us to be okay.
Soundwave took a step back.
Jazz didn't try to get closer again.
-You don't even have to become an Autobot. You could just... become neutral? We'd share my quarters. You wouldn't have to fight. You could stay out of the conflict and not have to face the Decepticons and...
Soundwave's voice cut him off coldly.
-Jazz: Hear what he's saying?
His voice was hoarse, dangerous:
-Jazz: think that would make Soundwave happy? Jazz: want to take away Soundwave's freedom to act?
Jazz didn't answer right away. Then, after a moment's thought:
-No, you're right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. You're not a civilian. -
-Soundwave: warrior. Soundwave: Megatron's right-hand man. Soundwave: loyal to the Decepticon cause.
Jazz gritted his teeth.
Soundwave lowered his arm, straightened up, raised his head in a haughty attitude:
-Jazz: stupid to follow Prowl's ideas.
Jazz frowned:
-Prowl just proposed a solution for us.
-Response: negative. Prowl: not looking for a solution for Soundwave. Prowl: looking for a solution for Jazz.
-Well, Prowl is my friend, but he didn't seem indifferent to you.
Soundwave stared at him:
-Jazz: blind.
Jazz flinched at this... remark? Insult? He wasn't sure.
-What's that supposed to mean?
-Jazz: can't see.
-Thanks, I know what ‘blind’ means.
Soundwave turned his back:
-Soundwave: leave. Discussion: pointless.
-What? No, we're not done!
-Soundwave: doesn't want to talk anymore. Soundwave: angry.
Jazz choked:
-Can you at least think about my proposal?
And his tone sounded more desperate than he'd intended when he added:
-Please?
Soundwave stopped dead in his tracks. He hesitated, hard. Then slowly, he turned back to Jazz:
-Soundwave: will think. Condition: Jazz has to think too.
-To join the Decepticons?
-Answer: yes.
-...Okay, mech...
They stared at each other, wanting to hug each other, but also wanting to fight and argue.
Finally, Soundwave turned again and left.
Jazz stood there for a few minutes, then sighed. He headed back towards the Ark, disappointed. He should have expected this conclusion.
Chapter 17: Sometimes it's better to stay in bed
Summary:
Illustration will be post soon !
Chapter Text
The next day arrived almost too quickly, much to Prowl's dismay.
Recharging had been complicated, and he had slept very poorly, having spent several hours worrying about the meeting between Soundwave and Jazz. Then his processor had gone into forced standby mode, before waking him up at the time set by his alarm clock.
He felt like he hadn't slept at all. And he was hungry.
He hadn't eaten anything other than the cube of energon Jazz had brought him the day before.
He slowly stood up and headed for his private bathroom. All the officers had one in their quarters.
Prowl splashed water on his face, but it didn't help much. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw that he looked terrible, his fatigue and bad mood clearly visible. But hey, was it really any different from other days? ... On second thought, Prowl decided that yes, he looked worse than usual.
He sighed and went back to his room, grabbing the datapads he needed to store in his subspace, then went out into the hallway, his processor already working to process a bunch of information, including his priorities for the day.
-Hey, Prowl, sir! they called out cheerfully.
Prowl closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself, while Bluestreak caught up with him, with far too much energy for the early morning.
Prowl reopened his eyes and concentrated on continuing his walk normally, looking straight ahead:
-Good morning, Bluestreak.
-Yeah, good morning! So, how's it going this morning? Because you disappeared for most of the day yesterday, and then Jazz came out of the infirmary and everything, and Ratchet didn't look happy at all, so Jazz probably caused trouble again, haha, you know how he is...
-Jazz is a superior officer. Prowl cut him off. No matter how he behaves, it's not your place to judge.
Bluestreak fell silent, his door hinges dropping suddenly as the younger one looked sheepish.
Prowl struggled to keep his own doors straight:
-Aren't you on duty with Cliffjumper in five minutes?
-Ah! Yes, sir, I am! I'll go now. But I wanted to discuss my schedule first. Tomorrow I have the same schedule as today, except Spike mentioned this human competition, and I'd like to know if it's possible to swap my shift with someone else so I can go!
Prowl's processor activated at full speed, and in less than a minute, he already had a report of all the complications that a simple change in schedule like that would cause.
-Your request is heard and denied.
Bluestreak stopped dead in his tracks, then quickly resumed walking when he saw that Prowl was just continuing on:
-B-But, um, why? Could you think about it?
-I've already thought about it. Your request is denied.
Bluestreak grimaced hard, much too expressively for his own good.
-But sir, I...
-This discussion is over, Bluestreak. Go to work.
Bluestreak stopped again, this time without trying to catch up with Prowl, even though he hesitated to insist further, before just sighing and walking away in the other direction, shoulders slumped.
Prowl didn't dwell on this interaction. Bluestreak could be as disappointed as he wanted, but unfortunately, you couldn't please everyone. Swapping shifts with someone else risked complaints from other people, and those other people would also ask for a change, and then it would never end.
Prowl had drawn up a clear schedule, not to be constantly changed at the slightest sign of dissatisfaction.
He passed other mechas, most of them as groggy as he was. Between those finishing their shifts and going to bed, and others who had just woken up, the atmosphere in the Ark was relatively calm for the moment. Especially now that Jazz was assured of being okay, there was no longer that heavy sense of worry in the air.
Prowl was about to enter his office when he was called again:
-Prowl, can I have a word?
Prowl turned to Smokescreen.
The other Praxian waved a door to greet him, and Prowl waved back. Bluestreak communicated a lot with words; he was too young to have really known Praxus. At least Smokescreen was as old as Prowl, maybe a little older, so the two knew how to communicate with their door flaps.
-What do you want?
-I've made progress on the files you gave me. There are a few points I'd like to discuss...
They almost jumped when they heard the loud roar of an engine in the distance.
Prowl stifled a growl.
Oh no, he knew that sound... And sure enough, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, the twins, suddenly turned into their hallway... in car mode, of course, because otherwise it wouldn't be any fun.
And of course, they were driving as fast as they could.
Except they were forced to slam on the brakes when Prowl planted himself in the middle of the hallway, arms crossed and glaring.
There was a horrible screech as the two braked, and they were even forced to revert to their bipedal forms to come to a stop, scraping their feet and hands against the ground.
They stopped right at Prowl's feet and swallowed, looking up to meet the tactician's fiery gaze.
Sideswipe was the first to his feet. And yeah, Prowl wasn't a minibot, but he was still pretty small compared to a lot of mechas. The twins were among them, towering over him by a few inches.
-Yoooo, Prowl, hey buddy!
-I'm not your ‘buddy’. Prowl cut him off sharply. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, do I need to remind you of the Ark's rules?
Sunstreaker stood up more slowly, his lips pressed together.
Sideswipe laughed nervously:
-Awwwn, mech, please, it's early in the morning and...
-Don't call me ‘mech’. I'm your superior.
-But Jazz does it all the time!
-Jazz has the same hierarchical position as me.
Sunstreaker rolled his eyes and grumbled:
-And he doesn't have a stick up his butt.
Prowl narrowed his eyes as he looked at the golden twin:
-Excuse me?
Sunstreaker just shrugged, not even trying to defend himself.
Those two are a pain in the neck.
Prowl checked their schedules; apparently, their shift didn't start for another hour. Good. Prowl updated the schedule:
-Since you seem to be free and full of energy, you won't mind helping Ratchet before your shift starts, will you?
-WHAT!
Sideswipe choked.
-Hey, no, we have plans! Sunstreaker protested.
Prowl turned away to go back to Smokescreen:
-Nothing important, I hope. Your schedule has already been changed.
Sunstreaker gritted his teeth:
-Seriously?! You're such a-
Sideswipe slapped a hand over his twin's mouth before he could cause even more trouble:
-Prowl, seriously, we're sorry, we shouldn't have... broken the rules and all that.
Prowl suppressed a satisfied smile, not wanting to appear too smug:
-Fine, apologies accepted. Go help Ratchet.
-What, but-!
Prowl closed the door to his office behind him and Smokescreen, leaving the twins fuming outside.
Prowl sat down at his desk while Smokescreen sat down opposite him, looking unsure of how to deal with what had just happened:
-Maybe they really did have something planned, you know?
Prowl simply turned on his computer without really caring:
-Well, they'll learn to follow the rules if they don't want their ‘thing’ canceled like that.
Smokescreen rolled his eyes:
-Come on, it wasn't that bad.
Prowl looked at the other Praxian, feeling a twinge of annoyance rising:
-Are you trying to make excuses for them? We've already told them that vehicle mode is prohibited in the Ark, with some exceptions. And helping Ratchet doesn't seem like an excessive punishment.
-Personally, I'd rather be thrown in jail for a day than have to work with Ratchet, Smokescreen grumbled.
Prowl frowned:
-Tell me, have you and Bluestreak agreed to criticize your superiors?
-Um, no, sir. I just meant…
-Ratchet is the chief medical officer and our only ‘real’ doctor. He is literally the reason we are all still alive since our arrival on Earth. Well, although he can be harsh, he is fair and committed. So do you have any other criticism that would prompt me to send you to join the twins, or can we get back to work?
Ratchet was under enough pressure from all sides. He certainly didn't need to put up with rumors, criticism, or insults.
Smokescreen clenched his teeth, his doors lowered slightly. He shook his head:
-No, sir. Please excuse me, it's true that I spoke without thinking.
Prowl looked him straight in the eye to see if he was sincere, then nodded and took out his datapads:
-Good. So, about yesterday's files?
Smokescreen still seemed bitter about being reprimanded, but he didn't say anything and began to show his work and raise some important points.
The conversation went smoothly, and when Smokescreen finally left his office, Prowl decided to return to his own files. He hadn't thought to check the time; after all, he had alarms set to alert him when it was time for his appointments.
That's why he was surprised when there was a knock at his door.
Without taking his eyes off the screens, Prowl raised his voice:
-Come in.
The door opened, and Jazz's voice filled the room with a gentle warmth:
-Hey, mech!~
Prowl felt his doors start to move, and he stopped them abruptly. By Primus, why did his body always react so quickly with Jazz?
He looked up from the screen to look at his friend:
-Hello, Jazz. How are you?
He refrained from asking any further questions, unsure whether Jazz had already taken the necessary safety precautions.
Jazz closed the door behind him and went to sprawl out on one of the chairs with a teasing smile:
-I have to be fine, with Ratchet checking on me every hour!
Prowl raised an eyebrow:
-I thought he was supposed to send someone, not come himself.
-I thought so too, but apparently he's afraid I'll convince the others to leave me alone?
-...Is that really an unfounded suspicion?
Jazz shrugged and laughed:
-You doubt me, Prowler?~
Prowler heard the door lock, and Jazz's smile faded.
Ah... It was okay, the room was soundproof.
-...Didn't it go well? Prowl asked, letting the concern show in his voice.
-Do you really want to talk about it?
Prowl was confused:
-Only if you want to, but I think I have a right to know, don't I?
Jazz gave him a thin smile as he picked up one of his datapads, playing with it to keep his hands busy:
-I hear you punished the twins again this morning? Even Smokescreen complained about your reprimands!
Prowl rolled his eyes:
-Is complaining all they have to do?
Jazz shrugged:
-Lil' Blue also came to see me to change his schedule.
Prowl froze. He furrowed his optics, feeling that annoyance again:
-...No way, they came to see you again so you could convince me?
-Yep, looks like it.
-Is it really impossible to move Blue's shift?
-No, it would be too much hassle, and I'm not going to mess with everyone's schedule!
Jazz winked at him through his visor:
-Okay, mech, I get it. I'll explain it to him.
-You don't have to explain anything to him, I already told him no, and he shouldn't have to go complain to another officer about it! Especially an officer who's recovering!
Jazz put down the datapad he was fiddling with:
-You know, if you took the time to explain things to them calmly, I think that-
Prowl waved his hand to interrupt him:
-I know how to do my job, Jazz, thank you. We're in the military, not a daycare center. Our soldiers should know how to accept a refusal or a reprimand.
Jazz sighed exaggeratedly:
-You're the boss, boss.
Prowl gave him a bored look before clicking his tongue:
-Well, are you going to tell me what happened with Soundwave, yes or no?
Jazz pressed his lips together as he rocked back and forth in his chair, looking worried:
-What do you want me to say? Jazz seemed tired. I offered to join us. He refused. That's it.
Prowl put his annoyance aside and softened his tone a little:
-And that's all?
Jazz sat back down properly:
-No, of course, I'm keeping it short. He's angry with you for what you said to him, and for Laserbeak. Oh, and he said that asking him to join the Autobots was a stupid idea, and that if I was going to switch sides, I might as well join the Decepticons. Oh, did I tell you he refused to rap battle you?
Prowl stared at him, not sure whether to facepalm or throw a datapad at the idiot's head.
-Don't look at me like that, mech, I summarized it as best I could!
Prowl sighed:
-I know, but that doesn't make me any less upset. He looked at Jazz hesitantly. So?
-So what?
-Are you thinking of joining the Decepticons?
-...Wow, I feel offended.
Prowl pouted:
-Listen, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, but if Soundwave is considering betraying his side, then I assume you are too.
-...Yeah. We promised we'd think about each other's proposals.
It was an expected turn of events. Prowl had imagined a hundred scenarios for this meeting, and Soundwave asking Jazz to join him was one of them, although he hadn't mentioned any of his scenarios to Jazz.
-Hey, would you like to come next time? Jazz asked.
Prowl blinked:
-...Excuse me? Where?
-My next date with Sound. Would you like to come?
Prowl was momentarily blissful, his processor needing to process the question several times:
-... Jazz, for Primus' sake, tell me why I would want to come on a date with you and your...partner?
-To talk? Maybe check out Laserbeak while you're at it. I'm sure you want to apologize!
Prowl frowned:
-I have nothing to apologize for.
Jazz looked at him seriously:
- You won't pull that on me, Prowler. You're worried about Beak, and I'm 100% sure you feel guilty about what you said to Sound.
Prowl's mouth twisted into a grimace, but he quickly recovered:
-Your processor can't calculate such a probability based solely on assumptions.
-I don't calculate with my processor, but with my Spark~
This time, Prowl grimaced openly:
-It's like listening to Optimus.
-Our leader has a pretty good influence, doesn't he?~
Prowl sighed:
-Sometimes I wonder...
As fate would have it, he received a message from Optimus himself at that very moment.
- :: Optimus : Prowl, are you available?::
Prowl looked at Jazz:
-Prime is asking for me.
-Ah. Jazz came back and swung on the chair. He probably wants to talk to you about the investigation.
-That's likely, yes.
Prowl sent a message back to Optimus:
-:: Prowl : I can be available in 10 minutes.::
-:: Optimus : Thank you, I'll wait for you in my office::
Jazz tilted his head:
-What are you going to tell him?
Prowl returned his gaze as his processor raced for a moment. Jazz was unaware that he and Soundwave had met again and that Soundwave had provided him with evidence to clear Mirage.
-That the investigation is still ongoing and nothing is certain yet.
Jazz didn't seem to like that answer, even though he didn't say anything.
Prowl raised an eyebrow:
-Do you have another suggestion?
-No. I know we need proof before we can move forward with anything. He growled. But damn it, to think that Mirage is still being accused like this...
Prowl joined his hands on the table, acting very professional to reassure his friend:
-The situation is under control. Ironhide knows he can't do anything until the investigation is over.
-Yeah... I should still go check out the 'cons, just to give you some extra evidence.
Prowl stood up and couldn't help but roll his eyes:
-You're not going anywhere. You rest and let me do my job.
Jazz imitated him by also standing up and following him to the door, looking sulky:
-You said yourself that...
-I know what I said, but things have changed since our last discussion.
The spy raised an optic:
-I'd be curious to know how.
-You'll only find out if you go and rest quietly.
-I get the feeling you're the one manipulating me here, Prowler.
Prowl frowned:
-Say that again?
Jazz gave him a teasing smile:
-I said that you and Sound are pretty similar in some ways~
-I feel insulted.
-Hey, Sound is awesome!
Prowl sighed again and put his hand on the door:
-I'm going out, so if you have one last ‘secret’ thing to tell me, do it quickly.
-Oh, just one: you didn't answer me.
-About what?
-Are we having a night out with Sound soon?
Prowl immediately grumbled:
-By Primus, Jazz, I don't want to be the odd one out!
-Oh, I promise, we won't do anything too cheesy in front of you!
-Humans and their expressions really have a VERY bad influence on you.
Prowl left the office, indicating that the conversation was over.
Jazz chuckled as he followed him out:
-I think, on the contrary, human culture makes me better!~
He laughed:
-See you later, mech, don't get too worked up, we don't want you to short-circuit!
Prowl was outraged:
-Damn it, I'm not going to repeat myself, it only happened once!!
He heard Jazz laughing as he disappeared down another hallway.
When Prowl arrived at the Prime's office, he was unpleasantly surprised to see that he wasn't the only one who had been called. Ironhide was also there, standing in front of the desk, looking furious.
There was a 90% chance that he was the one who had forced Optimus to convoke Prowl.
-You asked for me?
Prowl asked as he entered, standing next to Ironhide.
Optimus greeted him with a kind but tired look.
-Hello, my friend. How are you?
-I'm fine, thank you. Do you need anything?
Optimus glanced at Ironhide, who was clenching his jaw, before looking back at Prowl to answer, but the infantry officer rushed ahead of him:
-Your investigation? How's it going?
Prowl glanced at Ironhide out of the corner of his eye, already feeling his annoyance from this morning returning. Of course Ironhide couldn't wait just a few days.
-It's in progress, and I'm not allowed to disclose anything until it's complete.
Ironhide slammed his hand on the desk as he towered over Prowl:
-Stop it, it's only ‘ in progress’? Aren't you supposed to be the best investigator in Iacon?
Prowl held back an annoyed ‘tss’.
Yes, he had been the best investigator in Iacon. He had solved so many cases in such a short time. But his reputation had always left something to be desired, always because of his behavior.
-I was, so what? Prowl retorted. Would you like me to rush the job? This is a serious case, I'm not going to take the risk of accusing a comrade of treason before I have tangible evidence.
Ironhide growled:
- I’m wondering how you’re handling this investigation! How come Mirage is walking around the ship freely? You should lock him up!
Prowl's optics narrowed:
-That would only encourage the rumor that he's a traitor.
-Because he is a traitor!
-We're not sure, and if you keep accusing him like that and you're wrong, the damage could be irreversible.
-What damage? If he's innocent, he should be able to prove it!
-Do you even realize the situation you're putting him in? With all your unfounded accusations, Mirage is at the center of rumors and insults!
-Just more proof that he's not one of us!
Prowl slammed his fist on the desk with such force that the furniture shook and even Ironhide and Optimus staggered for a moment:
-He's one of us until proven otherwise!
Ironhide took a step closer, trying to intimidate him:
-Oh yeah? That kind of talk surprises me coming from you, Prowl.
-I'm just following protocol.
-And I remember a jerk who wasn't afraid of collateral damage, as long as a potential threat was eliminated!
Prowl clenched his teeth so hard they ground together. It was such a low blow...
-If you had done your investigation properly, Mirage would be locked up, under intensive surveillance, and he would have already been interrogated! As far as I know, none of that has happened!
Ironhide accused, his gaze burning.
-I conduct my investigation as I see fit, and you have to submit to it, whether you like it or not!
-And I think Jazz has once again tricked you into believing his nonsense!
-Jazz has nothing to do with this!
-On the contrary, he has everything to do with it!
Ironhide turned to Optimus:
-We all know Jazz does whatever he wants! He could just as easily have hired Mirage knowing he's a Decepticon!
-Ironhide. Optimus' voice was firm. If you wish to accuse Jazz of treason, I...
-Rah, of course not!
Ironhide made a big gesture with his hand, boiling with rage:
-Jazz would be the first to stand between you and a shot from Megatron! And that's the whole damn problem! He hides too many things! Maybe it's for our own good, but still! How many times have we discovered one of his plans at the last minute? How many times have we had to deal with his schemes, how many times have we had to improvise, how many times have we almost screwed up?
Optimus motioned for him to calm down.
-Jazz knows his role. His plans are risky, but they've always paid off.
-Almost always! And this time may be no different! Ironhide looked at Prowl. Dare to tell me you're not putting your investigation on hold because Jazz asked you to!
-He didn't! Prowl started yelling too. And your argument makes no sense! Why do you want to stop Mirage if you think it's part of Jazz's plan?
-BECAUSE HE COULD HAVE DIED!
Ironhide's roar silenced Prowl, his doors shaking.
Optimus tensed.
Ironhide was breathing heavily, clenching his fists so tightly that you could hear his gears grinding. He lowered his head, closing his eyes:
-He could have died... Ratchet lost his spark several times during the operation...! he said, his voice lower, his throat tight. He could have died, but you act as if it doesn't matter...!
Prowl's anger subsided, and he exchanged a hesitant glance with Optimus before looking back at Ironhide.
Optimus stood up and walked around the desk:
-Ironhide... He placed a hand on his shoulder...it matters.
-It doesn't seem like it!
-Yes, it does, Optimus assured him. Jazz isn't just an important member of our army. He's also a precious friend. To each and every one of us.
Optimus looked at Prowl.
Prowl remained silent, but managed to nod his head.
Optimus continued:
-...if we had lost him... just the fact that we almost lost him... believe me, it affected everyone.
-...So...!
-Ironhide, listen to me.
Ironhide fell silent, unable to continue shouting when the Prime spoke to him so gently:
-I know that having a traitor among us terrifies you. If one of us betrayed us, I don't think I would be able to react objectively. Especially if it hurt all of you. But Prowl is right... the suspicions about Mirage are unfounded. We are already conducting an investigation, and it only further tarnishes Mirage's reputation. And if it turns out he's innocent... will you be able to repair the damage that's been done? Will you be able to convince everyone to trust our comrade?
-....we don't even know if he is...!
-No, but we're giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Prowl was relieved that Optimus was there to handle the situation. He would never have known how to deal with Ironhide, except by shouting.
He waited for the other officer to calm down, to relax enough so that the argument wouldn't start again.
Finally, Prowl assessed the percentage of risk involved in talking, and spoke again:
- Ironhide, we have a common goal. And arguing would only give the Decepticons the upper hand.
Ironhide looked at him.
Prowl was momentarily afraid he had said the wrong thing and quickly added:
-We want peace, whether it's by defeating the Decepticons or finding common ground. I wouldn't dare let Mirage go free if I thought it would be risky. I've calculated all the probabilities. Red Alert is watching Mirage 100%, and you know how meticulous he is. And I know there's an 80% chance that Mirage will be lost from view by hacking the cameras or becoming invisible, but again, I'm not worried. Jazz is awake, and I calculate a 95% chance that he's keeping track of Mirage's movements, just as there's a 75% chance that Bumblebee and Blurr are also watching him.
He spilled it all out in his usual voice, but talking so much without stopping actually betrayed his nervousness:
-Jazz, Bee, and Blurr probably aren't watching him because they doubt him, but they're definitely keeping an eye on him, at least to make sure no one's messing with him. And in case they lose sight of him, I know everyone's schedules, and I've already figured out who's suspicious of Mirage and who isn't. In conclusion: there's no way he can act without someone catching him, one way or another.
Of course, Prowl refrained from mentioning that he, Jazz... or even Blaster... had helped Mirage cover an outing.
Ironhide stared at him with wide eyes, which made him a little more uncomfortable, even though he held his gaze.
Optimus himself seemed surprised.
Finally, Ironhide sighed and chuckled:
-Wow... Bluestreak's rubbing off on you now?~
Prowl rolled his eyes.
Ironhide smiled a little more relieved:
-No, seriously... couldn't you have told me all this earlier?
Prowl blinked, then narrowed his eyes:
-... Well, it all seemed obvious?
-Eh... no? Ironhide was exasperated. I don't know if you realize it, Prowl, but personally, I don't have the processor to take all that into account on top of my daily work. And personally, I had the impression that you didn't care, even though now I see that you've thought about it.
Prowl tried not to get too upset:
-I don't ‘not care,’ I always think through as many possibilities as I can when a situation arises!
-Yeah, well, you should learn to justify it more often! Ironhide accused.
-I didn't think it was necessary!
Optimus stepped between them:
-All right, you two, calm down. We've cleared up this misunderstanding, there's no point in getting into an argument. Unless you have anything else to add?
Prowl and Ironhide looked at each other, then looked at Optimus, before shaking their heads:
-No, sir.
Optimus placed a hand on their shoulders and smiled at them:
-Good. I'm glad we've come to an agreement on this matter. Prowl, we'll give you the time you need to investigate. Ironhide, I think you should talk to Jazz about this whole thing. About Mirage, and how you felt when he was hurt.
-...uh, I... Ironhide stammered, surprised by the suggestion.
-I think Jazz needs to hear that we care about him, and that his actions have consequences. You're right about that: he takes a lot of risks, and while his efforts are appreciated, I'd appreciate it if he didn't ‘put himself between me and a shot from Megatron’, as you so aptly put it.
Ironhide hesitantly bit his tongue, then finally nodded:
-Yes, Prime, you're right.
Optimus patted them on the shoulder before returning to his desk:
-You may go. My communications remain open if you need anything.
His officers nodded and saluted him before leaving the office.
Chapter 18: ♫⋆｡♪ The melody of lies ˚♬ ﾟ
Notes:
Welcome to this new chapter of “Logic Leads Me to You”! The illustration for this chapter isn't finished yet, sorry about that, I'm having a bit of an art block when it comes to illustrating this fanfic these days :(
I still want to continue posting the fanfiction even if the drawings aren't ready. I hope you don't mind too much! You will be notified each time I finish a drawing!
Enjoy reading :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Soundwave was angry. He tried not to show it, to keep it to himself, but he knew how hard he was hitting the keys on the keyboard as he stood in front of the Nemesis's main monitor.
Join the Autobots? HIM? Join the Autobots?! Had Jazz lost his mind? When had he decided that this would be a good idea?
Not only to think about it, but to even ask! It wasn't as if Soundwave hadn't thought about recruiting him to the Decepticons, but... Ah! At least he had the decency to do it subtly! Thinking up a plan, evaluating the variables, manipulating minds and feelings... That was what characterized them both!
This spiritual rivalry, this game of unspoken words, the ambiguity in their actions! And Jazz suddenly showed up and suggested he betray his side, just like that, without further ado? As if Soundwave hadn't already proven his loyalty to Megatron enough? As if he was just going to abandon his principles, nod his head, and submit to the enemy?
Or maybe it was another one of Jazz's schemes. A way to trap him, for a purpose that Soundwave hadn't yet figured out.
Was Jazz planning another intrusion into their home? Was it a way to steal some data, by getting him to let his guard down?
- you're lucky I love you! -
Soundwave's hand slipped, he pressed the wrong key, and suddenly his code no longer made any sense.
He growled and resumed typing, deleting and restarting the program.
Jazz had never told him... ‘that’. No, he had never told him. He might have hinted at it, yes. In words, in gestures, but he had never been so... so direct, even as a joke.
Prowl was really a bad influence on him.
-::I thought you liked direct people, boss?:: Ravage's voice rang out over the link.
-::Soundwave: doesn't need a second opinion::
He didn't think often enough about cutting the link with his tapes when he felt frustrated, if only to avoid their comments.
Soundwave liked to hear his cassettes' opinions, but only when he was willing to listen. That is to say: not when he was angry, like now.
He felt a little agitation in his frame. A faint protest from Ravage.
On their link, Ratbat laughed, listening to the conversation from the bedroom. The little bat had been tasked with watching over Laserbeak, who was still resting in his nest.
Outside the link, a discontented grunt rose.
Soundwave turned his head, fixing his optics on Rumble, who was leaning against the monitor, arms crossed, tapping his foot nervously.
Frenzy wasn't far away, sitting on the floor and reading something on a datapad. At least he was trying to, but Soundwave could tell he wasn't concentrating properly, probably because he was also watching what was happening on the link.
Finally, Rumble spoke on the link:
-::I don't understand why we haven't dealt with that jerk yet::
Soundwave stared at the little robot, who wasn't looking back at him but was seething with rage.
The carrier simply looked back at the screen and went back to work.
Rumble insisted:
-::Prowl hurt Laserbeak, we should make him pay!::
-::Soundwave: will not launch a pointless offensive::
-::It's not pointless! We can't let him get away with it!::
-::Soundwave: cannot compromise the plan. Attacking Prowl would drive Jazz away::
Rumble stamped his foot harder and swore.
Frenzy looked up from his datapad and glared at his brother with an annoyed expression:
-::Rumb', the boss is right::
-::I don't need your opinion!::
-::Stop sulking, we're all angry, we don't need you to make us suffer your mood too!::
Rumble turned to his twin and glared at him, ordering him to shut up.
Frenzy grimaced but held his gaze, not willing to back down.
Soundwave held back a growl:
-Rumble, Frenzy: stop it. A firm order, which prompted the two cassettes to lower their heads again, not without grumbling.
Soundwave wanted to focus on his code again, but clearly no one was going to leave him alone.
He received a ping from an unknown contact. Then another ping from the same contact, before a third came from a second unknown contact.
One of Jazz's signals.
Physically, Soundwave continued to work as if nothing had happened, but he had switched to automatic mode while he focused on the security of his communications.
He had taken the time to review his internal programs to protect himself from possible surveillance by Megatron, although he suspected that this would not be enough in the long run.
:: Soundwave : Soundwave: At work::
He quickly sent the message, hoping that his annoyance would be apparent.
Jazz didn't usually contact him so quickly after one of their dates, unless it was an emergency.
:: Jazz : Hey Sound!~::
:: Jazz : Me too! We have so much in common!::
Soundwave sighed inwardly.
:: Soundwave : Request: why this contact?::
He had almost mentioned Jazz's name, but refrained at the last moment, wondering if his security was effective against Shockwave.
Just in case, Soundwave thought that a little more caution wouldn't hurt.
Jazz replied quickly:
:: Jazz : I felt like we parted on bad terms, and I don't want that between us mech::
:: Jazz : So I was thinking, why not meet up again soon, this time for a real chill discussion, without any traps or anything?::
Although the proposal was tempting, Soundwave saw red:
:: Soundwave : Jazz: confirm that yesterday was a ‘trap’?::
...The name had slipped out.
Damn.
Well, in the worst case scenario, Soundwave could say that this communication with Jazz was part of his plan. Even though he would prefer neither Shockwave nor Megatron to get involved.
He received a reply from Jazz:
:: Jazz : Yesterday I played badly, I really screwed up, and I'm sorry::
:: Jazz : I don't feel like explaining any further::
:: Jazz : But I really want us to start over on a good footing::
Soundwave narrowed his eyes. But just as he was about to reply, he received another ping, from yet another sender:
:: Jazz : Can I bring P.?::
:: Jazz : Sorry, S., but your other messaging system seems unstable::
Soundwave tensed up. He didn't know how Jazz could know better than him that one of his communications was being monitored, but he didn't doubt for a moment that the Autobot was right to be concerned.
He responded to the first contact, acting as if nothing had happened:
:: Soundwave : Soundwave: must think::
:: Jazz : Okay, mech, we'll talk about it later::
Meanwhile, on the other messaging system, Soundwave replied:
:: Soundwave : Shockwave: probably keeping an eye on Soundwave.::
The first message was interrupted normally, while the second was completely deleted, both on Soundwave's side and on Jazz's side.
Soundwave took a few minutes, still acting as if nothing had happened, to pretend to work, while creating a new, even more secure messaging system, trying to make it as invisible and untraceable as possible, and he contacted Jazz, who had surely done the same on his end:
:: Soundwave : P.: Accepted for our next meeting. Condition: Apology required::
Jazz replied almost immediately, suspecting that lingering on the discussion would only make them more noticeable:
:: Jazz : Okay. Usual place #02.04?::
:: Soundwave : Location: approved. Date: let the usual time pass + 2400 - 4800?::
:: Jazz : Yep::
:: Soundwave : See you soon::
And just like that, this conversation was also deleted from all files.
Jazz checked several times to make sure that the conversation history had been completely wiped out. He couldn't take any risks. Not when he had this gnawing worry that seemed to be eating away at his circuits.
Soundwave was under surveillance. Since when? Why? Had he done anything that could betray him?
Jazz hadn't noticed anything until now.
-So? Blaster asked him.
They were in the communications room again.
Blaster had let him play with the console and had even helped him manage the exchange, and it was thanks to him that they had realized something was wrong.
Jazz shrugged nonchalantly, appearing much calmer than he really was:
-So it went well.
Blaster narrowed his eyes. He hadn't been privy to the conversation; he had just kept his eyes on the waves and interference to make sure no one could intercept the conversation.
He sighed:
-Mech, I help you with that. Could you tell me more?
Jazz smiled at him - and it hurt, because it wasn't as natural as it should have been. He had always been comfortable with Blaster; talking to him and teasing him wasn't supposed to be so... painful.
-Do you want me to describe our words of love and our salacious exchanges?
Blaster grimaced, blushing, then crossed his arms and sulked:
-Damn, I don't even know if you're joking or not.
Yeah. That was another problem. Usually Blaster quickly took the joke for what it was: a joke. But now he was even questioning that.
Jazz preferred to change the subject:
-Thanks for your help. Combining our skills really works wonders.
-I would have preferred to use them for something other than contacting your boyfriend.
Blaster's tone was bitter.
Jazz couldn't blame him. He was already surprised that the red mech had agreed to help him contact Soundwave.
Basically, it wasn't so much that Jazz thought Blaster might eavesdrop on their conversation, but Jazz preferred to play the honesty card at least to some extent. But in the end, Blaster's help had been even more useful than he had imagined. And Jazz now had a new problem on his hands: Soundwave was being watched, and that said everything about the level of danger hanging over them.
Was this surveillance somehow related to Sound's strange behavior and his attempt to get closer to Prowl?
(Soundwave could be in denial all he wanted, but it was obvious that he had tried to get closer to Prowl from the moment he told him about his debt.)
If he was being watched, how much of their information had been leaked? Soundwave had mentioned Shockwave. If Shockwave was watching Sound, it would inevitably be for Megatron.
Did Megatron know about their relationship? If so, why hadn't he used it against them yet? Did he know that Prowl had saved Soundwave? That Prowl had connected with Laserbeak? Was he going to use that against Prowl? Of course he would.
Then Jazz felt his spark stutter.
Did Megatron know about their meeting yesterday? Had he found out about their conversation?
He could tell the Autobots that Jazz had been offered a chance to switch sides, but that wasn't the most important thing.
Soundwave. Did Megatron know that Jazz had offered Soundwave a chance to join the Autobots? Was Sound in danger? Were the cassettes in danger too?
Blaster snapped his fingers in front of him:
-Hello, communication center to Jazz. Jazzy, do you receive me?
Jazz blinked, looked at him, and automatically smiled again, as if his body wasn't boiling:
-Ahah, sorry, I was thinking. What's up?
Blaster frowned:
-That's enough.
He sighed and stood up.
Jazz flinched and stood up too:
-What? What's wrong?
-Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You don't want to tell me anything? Then there's nothing I can do, that's all.
-What, no way, you're joking, you're already doing a lot!
-Oh yeah, you think so? You really think so? Because it's funny, but I feel like if you had been honest from the start, I could have done a lot more.
Blaster snapped:
-And seriously, stop smiling!
Jazz pressed his lips together.
He knew how to communicate with the smiling, optimistic Blaster who trusted him. He knew how to communicate with the sad, angry, or even frustrated Blaster who trusted him.
But interacting with Blaster, who didn't even seem to believe in his smiles anymore...
-...I...
There was a gruff knock at the door. Jazz barely had time to compose himself before Ironhide entered:
-Hey Blaster, have you seen...
Ironhide saw Jazz and stammered:
-Oh, um... Well, I was looking for you.
And Jazz went back with his damn smile:
-And here I am, Mech! Just goes to show, fate works in mysterious ways~
Jazz glanced quickly at Blaster. He wasn't looking at him; he had gone back to sit in front of the monitor and was typing away, as if he were resuming his work and saying, “I don't want to be disturbed.”
Jazz's spark pulsed again. He forced the emotional cortex to restart.
-See you later, Blast! He called out with his usual cheerfulness and joined Ironhide.
Hide glanced quickly at Blaster, seeming to notice something odd, but finally shrugged and followed Jazz down the hallway.
-So, what do you need, buddy? Jazz winked at him, and Ironhide gave an embarrassed pout before rubbing the back of his head.
-...Actually, I wanted to talk about Mirage.
Jazz's expression didn't waver, even though his eyes narrowed behind his visor.
-Okay. My office or yours?
-Either one.
-Mine, then.
Ironhide nodded and followed him down the hallways to his office, where Jazz made sure to lock the door.
Jazz didn't want to be disturbed. He checked the soundproofing and looked for any potential spy cameras or microphones as he casually sat down in his chair.
Ironhide remained standing in front of his desk, uncomfortable, unaware of the spy's numerous checks.
-You want to talk about the investigation? Jazz guessed.
-...Partly, yes. Well, not exactly. Um...
Jazz was intrigued. Usually, when Ironhide was so hesitant and stammering, it meant he was trying to talk about feelings. He was a big, clumsy oaf, the guy.
Trying to hide his embarrassment, Ironhide tried to sound annoyed again:
-I guess Prowl already told you about the situation?
-That you're threatening to fire one of my men behind my back? Yeah, he did.
-That's not... Ironhide sighed and ran a hand over his face. I'm not trying to do it behind your back.
-But you're trying to get him fired.
Jazz may have looked chill, but Ironhide knew how to recognize an accusatory tone, and usually, when Jazz used it against him, it made him wince.
-Okay, listen... Ironhide slowly sat down on a chair, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. I talked to Prowl and Prime. I understand that... Yeah, I need to shut up and wait for the investigation to be over. So I'll ‘try’ not to yell at the traitor all the time.
-A wise choice, Mech.
Jazz agreed without batting an eyelid, and Ironhide hated that, because if Jazz had been angry or annoyed, it would have seemed more sincere.
-Mirage shot at you.
Ironhide managed to say, his tone too soft to be accusatory.
Although Jazz didn't show that it had shaken him, inside it was a different story. Reflexively, he went on the defensive:
-I gave him the order.
-That's the problem.
Ironhide's quick and unexpected response managed to wipe the smile off Jazz's face. But it didn't make him lose his cool as he tilted his head, looking intrigued:
-What do you mean?
Ironhide stared at him, trying to see the optics behind the visor. He really tried, but it was impossible; the glass was opaque on his side.
The older one's question fell heavily:
-Do you want to die?
Maybe.
Jazz bit his tongue hard. It surprised him. As much as the taste of energon he felt on his palate.
He laughed, calculated to perfection to appear natural and confident:
-Of course not. Please, Hide, you know me better than that. Do you think I would have tried something like this if I risked dying?
The painful glint in Ironhide's eyes silenced Jazz. Ironhide's jaw was clenched, and he raised his voice:
-Ratchet has...!
-...lost my spark during the operation. I know, Hide, but it was only for a few seconds.
-You know...? The other's voice crackled before he recovered. No, but wait, it happened more than once, what if Ratchet hadn't been able to bring you back?!
Jazz gave him a teasing smile, because it usually worked:
-You doubt our doctor, Hide?
It usually worked, but not this time, because the next moment Ironhide was standing up, the chair he was sitting on falling backwards, and he slammed his fist on the desk:
-Ratchet is an excellent doctor! he shouted. Even he loses patients!
Jazz fell silent again, realizing that this was not the time to talk, let alone joke around.
Ironhide's expression twisted into something Jazz really didn't like to see. An expression worse than concern, close to fatalism, as if Ironhide wasn't looking at him alive, but at him on the operating table.
-Damn it, Jazz, are you going to keep this up? Always with your stupid plans, thinking you can handle everything on your own, putting yourself in danger as if you were invincible! Aren't you afraid of dying? Fine! But have you thought about the others? Have you thought about Ratchet, if he hadn't been able to save you? What do you think he'll think? ' Oh well, that idiot's dead, too bad '? NO! Ratchet will think he's an incompetent idiot, that you trusted him to save you and he wasn't capable of doing it! Just wait and see what happens!
Ironhide stood up vehemently:
-And you seem to care so much about Mirage, huh! And if he's not a traitor, then he's really exceptionally stupid to follow your suicidal plans! And if he's not a traitor, then he must at least be devoid of emotion, if he doesn't care about risking KILLING you!
Jazz slowly stood up:
-Hide, I...
-I'm not finished!!
Jazz fell silent again, even though he was now standing, and Ironhide clenched his fists:
-I don't know if you want to die, or if you just don't give a damn, but listen to me carefully: I do give a damn! Ratchet gives a damn! Prowl and Optimus and everyone else on this damn ship, none of them could give a damn about losing you! But you seem to think it doesn't matter!
Jazz's throat was dry. He walked around the desk to close the distance, fearlessly approaching the taller man. It had been a long time since larger mechs intimidated him. He placed a light hand on his arm:
-You're right. I'm sorry.
Jazz replied, looking serious.
Ironhide flinched, not expecting the other to agree with him. He couldn't even think of a response at first. Jazz took the opportunity to pat him gently on the arm:
-...I promise you I care. The last thing I want is to die and leave you guys behind. He attempted a quick smile. Hey, you'll miss me too much, won't you? But he quickly regained his serious expression. But what happened with Mirage... Mech, he shot me to hit the enemy who was holding me hostage. If he hadn't, we could have both died, for real. I couldn't get away, Mirage would have been an easy target. I promise you it was the only solution we had at the time. I would never have done anything so extreme otherwise.
Ironhide crossed his arms, looked away, then forced himself to look at Jazz again:
-I don't believe you. This isn't the first time you've risked your life like this.
-And it won't be the last. Jazz softened. We're at war, Hide. I'm the head of Special Operations, the second-in-command of the Autobots. It's my duty to take risks. Everyone on this ship takes risks. And before Ironhide could get angry again, Jazz added... But you're right, there are many times when I don't communicate enough. I'm trying to work on that. He smiled at him. And I'm counting on your honesty to tell me when I screw up, huh, mech?
He saw that he had hit the right note when he noticed the gleam in Ironhide's eyes change, his gaze and posture relaxing and softening. Ironhide sighed:
-Tss, you little brat, you know how to talk.
-With my mouth?
-That's right, make fun of me.
Ironhide uncrossed his arms, only to slap Jazz on the back of the head. Jazz snickered and they exchanged smiles. But quickly, Ironhide resumed his stern expression:
-It doesn't change my opinion of Mirage. He's still in my sights.
-I don't doubt it, Hide. Just leave him alone while the investigation is going on, and we'll be fine.
-Yeah, yeah...
Ironhide looked at the time and looked annoyed again:
-Well, um... I should go. But yeah, keep in mind what I told you, if you mess up, I'll catch you and throw you in jail myself!
-Haha, got it!
Jazz waved goodbye as he left, giving him one of his playful winks for good measure.
Ironhide smiled at him and left the room.
The door closed behind him and Jazz locked it again.
Then Jazz let his trembling legs give way beneath him, and he leaned against the desk, his expression falling.
The day would come when the truth would come out. Jazz already knew that.
His relationship with Soundwave, and everything that had come of it.
The falsified reports, the secret plans, the lies, the secrets...
Jazz wasn't even sure he could still look at his reflection in the mirror.
Notes:
Tell me, I'm curious: which character is your favorite so far? Or which one do you like the least?
I really enjoy developing each character's point of view, and I wonder which one speaks to you the most! :0
Chapter 19: F*cking stupid autobots
Notes:
Hello, everyone!
No finished illustrations for today either, but the sketches are progressing well. Just a little more patience!
I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter. Have a good read! :D
Chapter Text
Mirage checked his setup one last time. The camera was in position, as were the microphone, sensors, and audio output...
Good.
Satisfied, he looked at the door to leave his room, checked the camera feed of the hallway one last time—just in case someone was passing by at that moment—then sent a private message to Bumblebee:
Mirage :: How's the situation on your side?::
Bee :: Blurr is distracting Red Alert, you can come out!::
Mirage activated his invisibility, opened the door, and slipped into the hallway, locking his room behind him before walking away.
Mirage :: All good::
Mirage :: Thanks::
He received a wink emote from Bee, and it made him smile.
Mirage hated being cooped up. Even as a young bot, it was something he couldn't stand.
When, for whatever reason, he was ordered to stay put in his quarters, not to move, not to do anything...—not to embarrass others, not to make his mistakes worse—Mirage shook his head, chasing away his thoughts.
That time was long gone, even if today's situation seemed similar.
Accused and punished, forced to keep a low profile... Mirage knew how to do it, on the surface. But if, when he was younger, being locked up drove him crazy and made him pace around his room, today things were different. He was different: the years spent in Special Operations had changed him.
He wondered if Jazz would be proud of him now.
Probably.
Jazz would look at him with a teasing smile and make a well-placed joke.
Jazz :: Are you sneaking out?::
Speaking of which... Jazz had just sent him a message.
Mirage stifled a laugh, not wanting to alert the nearby Autobots.
Mirage :: Who sold me out?::
Mirage asked amusedly.
Jazz :: Bee, he asked if I could make sure you got out safely::
Mirage ::I'm doing just fine::
Jazz ::I see that~::
Jazz had probably hacked the cameras again, and if you knew where to look, you could catch a glimpse of the faint holographic fog that served as his camouflage.
Jazz continued, sarcastically:
Jazz ::So, you're betraying us after all, you vile Decepticons?::
Mirage ::Normally I'd laugh, but I think that joke is in poor taste today::
Mirage said that, but when it was Jazz making that kind of joke, it didn't bother him.
Jazz ::Haha, sorry, mech. So tell me, need some fresh air?::
Mirage held back a sigh:
Mirage :: I've been cooped up all day. If this keeps up, I'm going to go crazy::
Mirage :: I just want to get out for a bit. You know, sit in my usual spot, look at the stars, and I'll be back in an hour?::
Jazz :: Don't justify yourself, I understand::
Jazz :: Ping me if there's a problem::
Mirage :: Sure::
Mirage left the Ark through the main door, then set out to circle the volcano in which the ship was housed.
Red Alert had taken care to secure the entire surrounding area, but there was one specific space, a blind spot, that Special Operations knew about and exploited. It wasn't very big, but when you wanted to get out and escape constant surveillance, it was enough—outside the rooms and other private areas of the Ark.
Mirage moved far enough away from the entrance and climbed a few rocks, then slid behind one of them and found himself in the famous “safe” space.
He sighed as he removed his camouflage and sat quietly on the ground, leaning his back against the rock wall. He looked up to observe the sky above him. Unfortunately, it wasn't the most beautiful view here. No, the most beautiful view was at the top of the volcano. All you had to do was take the Ark's main elevator, let it guide you to the top, sit on the ledge, and gaze at the sky.
But for now, Mirage preferred not to do so; he didn't want to risk being seen. So instead, he contented himself with this little secret spot; it was enough.
He enjoyed the coolness of the night, the calm of the desert. The nighttime atmosphere was very different from daytime. You couldn't hear the hustle and bustle of all the other robots, the sounds of engines, laughter, shouting...
Mirage liked the atmosphere of the Ark during the day; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he wasn't part of it, he wasn't allowed to be. He could watch while remaining invisible, but as soon as he reappeared, the others fell silent and stared at him...
He was a “mood killer,” as Cliffjumper had told him a while ago.
Melancholy, Mirage continued to watch the stars. He didn't doubt Prowl's investigation for a moment. He knew it would clear him. But he also knew that it wouldn't change much in his daily life, that the rumors and doubts would never completely disappear.
Mirage blocked all his circuits, preventing his fans from making a sound.
His security protocols had been activated. He didn't move, his camouflage already reactivated.
There were footsteps.
Mirage analyzed the area, searching for the source of the noise. It was too light to be a large robot, but too loud to be Bumblebee, and even after analyzing the footsteps, Mirage couldn't find a match with the footsteps of the other Minibots, and...
He saw Rumble.
It took Mirage a long second to process what he was seeing. He remained motionless, alert, surprised too, because, well... Ravage or Laserbeak wouldn't have been surprises; those two had a knack for sneaking into the ark with ease.
Not Rumble.
Rumble was loud and gruff. He was no spy or scout: he was a weapon of mass destruction. It was no coincidence that Megatron liked to send him into the middle of the battlefield to cause earthquakes.
Yet there was Rumble, clearly trying to sneak his way into the ark.
Except his footsteps were heavy, and he walked on things that made noise, like stepping on a plant and causing it to crack.
Well, to his credit, he at least seemed to have learned the location of the Autobots' cameras and sensors. He had probably read Laserbeak or Ravage's reports. But escaping Red Alert's surveillance didn't mean he was out of the woods, especially if the night patrol happened to pass by.
Mirage was... perplexed and curious. He was almost—almost!—certain that the cassette wasn't there as a scout. Soundwave, meticulous as he was, would never have allowed that.
Mirage sent a message to Jazz:
Mirage :: I have Rumble in view::
Jazz :: Repeat that?::
Jazz reacted faster than usual.
Mirage elaborated:
Mirage :: Rumble is near the Ark. He's obviously trying to be discreet, but I have to say, he's not doing a very good job of it::
Mirage joked.
Strangely, Jazz didn't seem amused.
Jazz :: Do you think Red saw him?::
Surprised by his seriousness, Mirage lost his smile:
Mirage :: No, not yet. But the night patrol... ::
Jazz :: Prevent the patrol from seeing him::
The order took Mirage by surprise. Huh, what?
But then he straightened up, because Jazz had given an order, and there was always a reason for his orders. If he didn't want to sound the alarm with Rumble, there was a reason, and Mirage wasn't going to question him.
So Mirage came out of his hiding place and slid down to the foot of the volcano to follow Rumble.
He had no trouble catching up with him. Mirage only had to walk quietly, letting his agility help him dodge the detectors without any trouble, whereas Rumble was much slower trying to approach without falling flat on his face and...
-For discretion, you should ask Ravage for advice. Mirage leaned forward with a mischievous smile as Rumble turned his back on him and looked for the next path to take.
The little cassette took a big leap and turned around, transforming his fist into a hammer, ready to strike the one who had surprised him.
Mirage took a step back and saw Rumble's confusion when he didn't see him.
Before Rumble understood and bared his teeth, growling with anger:
-Asshole, you're the invisible coward! Show yourself so I can punch you!
Mirage held back a laugh:
-You shouldn't shout so loudly, you might alert my comrades, you know?
Rumble transformed his other arm, already in combat position and ready to fight:
-Because you haven't already warned them about my presence? Rumble smiled sardonically. And you're surprised they think you're a traitor?
Okay, it was definitely a Soundwave tape. It hit where it hurt, just like its carrier.
And of course, his timing couldn't have been worse, because a new noise froze both Mirage and Rumble as footsteps approached them.
-I'm telling you, I heard something!
Mirage recognized Brawn's voice.
-It might just be an animal, you know! Trailbreaker sighed as he was dragged away.
Rumble had looked back, grimacing, already expecting to be seen by the patrolmen. But he jumped when he felt someone push him, and before he really understood what was happening, he had fallen back to the ground, sitting against the rock behind which he was hiding.
He felt a body close to his own, then his vision seemed to distort, and he saw the Autobot Mirage towering over him, one hand on either side of him, close enough for Mirage to reactivate his camouflage, and this time Rumble was included too, making them both invisible.
Trailbreaker and Brawn arrived and passed by them without looking at them. They checked around, listening for noise again, before heading back the way they came.
Rumble had held his breath the whole time, not daring to move.
Mirage, meanwhile, followed the two Autobots with his eyes, making sure nothing gave him away.
Jazz chose that moment to send a message:
Jazz :: I have you in visual:
Mirage blinked and looked around for his superior, then raised his optics and... Ah, he discerned a silhouette high up on the side of the volcano, hidden in the shadows. Of course.
Jazz :: Tell Rumble I want to see him::
Confusion struck Mirage even harder. Huh... again: What?
He looked at Rumble, who was staring back at him with a grimace and confusion.
The camouflage hid them from others but allowed them to see each other.
-Jazz wants to see you, Mirage whispered, and saying it out loud made him even more uncomfortable.
When was he supposed to say it? When would Rumble not try to run away?
... Rumble didn't try to run away. In fact, Mirage's words didn't even seem to scare him. Instead, the cassette, which had been angry and annoyed until then, seemed to deflate, then sulk, then his arms returned to their normal shape and he crossed them, grumbling.......
Umm... What???
A new message from Jazz:
Jazz :: Take him to the blind spot::
Mirage :: Understood::
Mirage replied wisely, but... Okay, no, he didn't understand anything. He knew Jazz was very secretive and always had lots of plans, but this...
-Follow me.
Mirage said to Rumble, straightening up, while staying close enough to the cassette so that he would remain invisible.
-But don't go far.
Rumble growled as he stood up, coming close enough to almost brush against him.
Rumble listened to Mirage's order. It was mind-boggling. Completely mind-boggling.
Rumble caught his gaze, and Mirage's field of vision probably revealed his bewilderment, but the cassette cursed:
-Don't look at me like that, you idiots!
Mirage was used to insults, so he just sighed and guided Rumble back to where he had been sitting.
Jazz was already waiting for them there.
Mirage removed their camouflage when he was sure they were out of sight, and Rumble still looked unhappy... But he wasn't looking at Jazz. Instead, he was staring at the ground.
Jazz didn't seem amused either. He was standing, leaning against the wall, without a hint of a smile:
-Explain to me what you're doing here, Rumb'?
Rumble grimaced and then nodded his head to show that he was rolling his eyes:
-None of your business!
-It's my business when you try to sneak into my house. And don't try to tell me Sound sent you. Does he even know you're out?
And Mirage couldn't help feeling confused. Because Jazz wasn't acting like the Chief of Special Operations, nor like the second-in-command of the Autobots.
He was... He was... Like Blaster when he was arguing about his tapes?
-Fuck you! Rumble retorted, glaring at him. The others may not want to do anything, but I'm not a coward!
Jazz pursed his lips and stared at him:
-Lower your voice, he ordered.
-You have no right to give me orders! I'm going to go in there and find Prowl, and I'm going to...
Jazz tore himself away from the wall at breakneck speed, abruptly slamming his hand over Rumble's mouth, grabbing his face forcefully, his voice growling with anger that Mirage was certainly not used to hearing so clearly:
-Rumble, in the name of Primus, if any Autobot spots you, I won't be able to get you out of here. So lower. your. voice.
Rumble gasped, and even Mirage did, their eyes widening at the same time.
In fact, neither of them had ever seen Jazz this angry before.
Rumble nodded slowly.
This seemed to convince Jazz, because he released him and stood up...and turned his head toward Mirage.
The nobleman tensed, feeling an unpleasant pressure on his shoulders. He didn't like the way Jazz was looking at him. There was no trace of his usual smile, no attempts at jokes, just deadly seriousness, as if Jazz was about to do something serious but necessary.
Mirage had been working in Special Operations long enough. He knew when it was time to make choices... Difficult ones. Like eliminating someone who knew too much. Even if that someone was a teammate. He hadn't done it himself, but... Oh, he had seen Jazz do it before. He was in the best position to know why Jazz was so effective at his job.
The major problem here... was that Jazz's job was supposed to help the Autobot cause. But now... he was trying to protect Rumble?
Mirage narrowed his optics, not trying to run away. Despite his apprehension and the pressure, he remained upright and calm. Anyway, if Jazz wanted to kill him, he could do it. Mirage already knew he couldn't stop him.
-You said we were a power duo because I trusted you. Mirage suddenly broke the silence.
Jazz didn't move. He continued to stare at him, his expression unreadable. Mirage wasn't afraid to take a step forward:
-Well, that trust needs to be maintained. So, unless you think I'm no longer important... Could you explain to me what's going on? Please?
This time, he noticed a slight twitch of his lip. As if Jazz was struggling to remain as neutral as possible despite a flood of intense emotions.
-You're not going to report me? Jazz asked anyway.
Mirage raised an optic:
-We both know that your voice carries more weight than mine. And honestly, Jazz... Do you really think I would report you for anything, when you're the first one to try to defend me in front of others?
Jazz just pursed his lips slightly. Nothing obvious, but Mirage could see it. Mirage had gotten to know him.
-I trust you, Jazz, Mirage said more softly. But I need to understand, otherwise I feel like my trust could crumble, and I don't want that between us.
Rumble watched them both with hesitation and discomfort, feeling like he was witnessing an exchange he shouldn't have been witnessing. It seemed so... heavy and intimate. So the tape decided that for once, it could lay low and just look away.
Then Jazz sighed, turning his head away, his shoulders slumped:
-Okay, mech, you win. But we need to get away, we might get caught here...
Mirage nodded:
-I can take Rumble with me and make us invisible.
Well, Rumble was getting fed up with keeping a low profile for so long:
-What, no!
-Rumb... Jazz said firmly. You're going with him, before you make the situation worse.
Rumble looked at Jazz and seemed to be searching for a response, but he flinched when Jazz placed his hand on his shoulder:
-Please, lil' guy. If you have any complaints about Prowl, I'm here to listen. But things are already tense at the Ark, and Sound will worry if you get captured. OK?
Rumble clenched his fists tightly, seeming to hesitate to break something. Finally, he cursed, swore, then leaped and transformed into a cassette, falling into Mirage's hands.
-I'll send you the coordinates where we're meeting.
Jazz blew. Mirage nodded and became invisible again, before climbing down and walking away from the Ark. Jazz took the time to take his own precautions before following suit.
When Mirage had gone far enough into the desert, he thought to himself that it was the perfect place to commit murder and hide the body. He had seen enough movies to know how it could be done—and then again, he was in Special Operations...
He resumed his bipedal form, and Rumble took the opportunity to do the same and fall at his feet. They stood there staring at each other, both silent, wondering how this was going to play out. Because, well... They were both in just as much trouble as each other. More or less.
It was Rumble who broke the silence with a growl:
-Don't think we're friends just because you ‘helped’ me get out of here.
-I didn't think anything. I was just following Jazz's orders.
-Tss, right, play the loyal guy after shooting him, we believe you!
Mirage flinched, his expression wavering:
-...I...
The sound of another car caught his attention. He watched Jazz arrive and transform as well once he was close to them.
-Hey, I'm here.
Well, at least Jazz seemed more... calm? It was hard to tell for sure, as he was good at hiding his emotions, but Mirage felt that getting away from the ark had helped a little.
Mirage and Rumble turned to him and waited, a little nervously, for Jazz to lead the discussion. Jazz sighed as he came over to massage his neck.
-...Okay. Before I say anything, I need something, 'rage.
Mirage pursed his lips:
-... I know.
He reached out to Jazz without hesitation.
Jazz let out a painful smile, seeing that Mirage had understood.
Damn...
Jazz took his hand and slid a panel over his wrist. He connected to it, and Mirage let him... And the feeling of seeing all his defenses crumble hit him in the gut.
Mirage saw his HUD shut down, his communications and weapons becoming completely dysfunctional. The best way to ensure that Mirage couldn't defend himself or call for help.
Jazz released his wrist. Mirage brought his hand back toward him, continuing to look Jazz in the eyes, before nodding, showing him that he was ready to hear anything.
Jazz decided to speak before backing down:
-I have a relationship with Soundwave. He got straight to the point.
Mirage didn't react right away. And when he did, it was to close his eyes, as if he were processing the information, before opening them again:
-Okay.
...it wasn't... The reaction Jazz was expecting.
-Okay?
Jazz repeated, and even Rumble seemed confused:
-Hey, stupidbot, he's telling you he's fucking the enemy!
-Wh-... Rumble, we don't... Jazz sighed. Never mind. Let the grown-ups talk.
Mirage took a breath, ignoring Rumble's comment and focusing instead on Jazz:
-I don't really know what else to say. It's... Saying that you have a ‘relationship’ with Soundwave isn't really an explanation.
Mirage pouted slightly:
-I need to know more. Are you... Are you with the Decepticons? Because that would surprise me. You've given so much to the Autobot cause, you've made so many sacrifices. You... damn it, Jazz, you've nearly died more than once for us. So I'm really having a hard time questioning everything, even if you have a ‘relationship’?
And behind his visor, Jazz's eyes widened. His Spark crackled, both painfully and warmly. It was... ... Why... Why couldn't Blaster have told him something like that...?
He felt his throat tighten and tried to chase away the overwhelming emotion that was coming over him. No, he couldn't blame Blaster. It was... It was Mirage who was reacting in a strange and unexpected way.
-Mech... Jazz whispered. The trust you have in me scares me.
Mirage seemed surprised by the comment at first. Then, very quickly, he let out a quiet chuckle:
-Well, Only mechas crazy enough can keep up with your bullshit, right?
Realizing the echo of his own words, Jazz shook his head with a laugh that was somewhere between disappointment and amusement:
-You're annoying, mech.
Then, relaxing, he moved closer and put his arm around Mirage's shoulders:
-Glad I can count on you, buddy.
-At your service, boss~
Rumble raised his hands dramatically:
-Come on, girls, are you done chatting?
Jazz released Mirage, returning to his usual calm smile, and moved closer to the cassette:
-You're right. Let's get back to you~
OK, Rumble suddenly regretted not keeping his mouth shut.
Jazz crossed his arms:
-So, explain to me what you were doing there? What's the problem with Prowl?
Rumble was initially stunned by the question. Then he stamped his foot angrily:
-Are you seriously asking that?! Don't you know about Laserbeak?
-Oh. Jazz nodded. Yes, Sound told me about it. They connected, and Prowler abruptly cut the link.
If Mirage was surprised to hear this, he didn't show it. Rumble, on the other hand, glared at Jazz:
-Exactly! I'm going to beat him up! That bastard hurt him, and when the boss asked for an explanation, I don't know what they said to each other, but he hurt the boss too?
Jazz raised an optic:
-... Huh?
Rumble scowled and crossed his arms in return, deciding to keep quiet before saying too much. But he had already said enough.
So Soundwave had been shaken enough by his discussion with Prowl that even Rumble noticed? ...Yeah, the idea of a threesome was definitely a good plan. Jazz came over and patted the cassette on the head:
-Listen, Rumb', Prowl regrets it, I promise. He's already planning to apologize.
-Don't be so familiar! Rumble retorted, stepping away with an embarrassed pout.
Then he growled:
-It's too late for apologies! All's fair in love and war! He hurt one of us, we hurt him back!
Jazz rolled his eyes behind his visor, and this time he flicked the smaller one on the nose.
-You. Calm. Down.
-Hey!!
-First of all, you have the opportunity to take revenge on the battlefield. So leave the infiltration to your brothers, okay? And second, have you checked with Sound to see if he wants revenge? Because last I heard, the three of us are supposed to meet up. If you kill Prowl in the meantime, it's going to mess up our schedules.
Rumble remained silent, then searched for words, then stamped his foot like a child before kicking a rock, breaking it in two.
Jazz knew he had somewhat convinced Rumble. That was reassuring. He looked at Mirage with an apologetic smile:
-I'll let Sound know, and then we can go home.
-Of course.
-Did you make arrangements at the Ark?
-I set up a module to detect if anyone comes to visit me, and I'll be able to talk remotely to make it look like I'm in my room. In the worst case, Bee and Blurr will take care of the rest.
-Perfect.
Jazz then looked toward the horizon as he checked his security, then opened a private communication with Soundwave:
Jazz ::Hey S, I'm with R, can you come pick him up?::
There was... A strange pause. Usually, Soundwave responded immediately. What he didn't know was that the pause was due to Soundwave's astonishment. Astonishment that was evident when he finally replied:
Soundwave ::Request: What??::
Jazz almost chuckled, because it wasn't often he could catch Soundwave off guard like that.
Jazz :: R is with me, I'll send you the coordinates::
He received no reply this time. Jazz sighed and looked over at Rumble, who was still taking it out on the rocks while throwing insults. Maybe seeing a therapist wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe seeing Ratchet... Yeah, no, bad idea.
Rumble finally turned to the two Autobots, raising his hands dismissively:
-Damn it, you guys are pissing me off, I'm outta here!
-Nope. Jazz stopped him. We're waiting for Sound, I called him.
-... Rumble choked. You did WHAT??
He squealed in sheer panic before trying to run away:
-Damn it, I gotta get out of here now!
Jazz grabbed him by the shoulder.
-And I'm telling you to stay right here.
Rumble tried to break free, then looked at Mirage and pointed at him:
-Stupidbot, do something! Help me, make me disappear!
Mirage raised an eyebrow and smiled teasingly:
-I thought we weren't ‘friends’? And besides, making you ‘disappear’... Are you sure about your choice of words?
He laughed, coming over to tap his barrel. Rumble choked even harder, then suddenly jumped up and transformed back into a cassette, falling into Jazz's hands before shouting at the top of his lungs:
-I don't exist, hide me, I'm no longer here!
Jazz sighed:
-And then Starscream is the drama queen?
-Don't compare me to Starbitch!!
Mirage watched their interaction, slightly amused. But very quickly he returned to his private communication with Jazz:
Mirage :: Is it really a good idea to give it back to Soundwave?::
Jazz enjoyed teasing Rumble Irl, but Mirage sensed that he had his superior's full attention when he replied:
Jazz :: Of course. You don't separate a cassette from its carrier. Besides, Soundwave would have come to get it himself at the Ark otherwise::
Mirage :: Oh. But... He's not going to hurt him, is he?::
This time, Jazz turned his head slightly toward Mirage and smiled at him:
Jazz :: Certainly not. He cares too much about him::
Mirage was already troubled by all this. But here, Jazz's very... Tender...smile almost completed his shock.
Wow. How had he never noticed that? Did Jazz always smile like that when it came to Soundwave? Was he letting his guard down because Mirage now knew?
With his head full of questions, but his attitude as impassive as possible, Mirage let time pass in a slightly impatient wait. He wanted to see how Soundwave and Jazz would interact. Would it be very different from all the other times?
Soundwave arrived after a short while.
The two Autobots watched him arrive from the sky, landing in front of them rather abruptly. It was a far cry from his usual delicacy.
Mirage almost swallowed. Because, over and above his landing, he could also feel the Soundwave field crackling with muted anger.
This was striking, especially coming from a man who never gave a glimpse of his field.
Soundwave turned his head towards Mirage. The autobot tensed despite himself, fighting the urge to become invisible. Yet he was eager to escape the murderous aura that was directed at him, for some reason....
Oh. Mirage suddenly realized. If Soundwave and Jazz were in a relationship... And Rumble knew Mirage had shot Jazz... Then Soundwave had to know too.
Mirage could have facepalm right there and then. Clearly, if Jazz wasn't going to execute him, Soundwave would.
Jazz quickly intervened, slipping between Mirage and Soundwave as if to act as a shield:
-Hey Sound, how's my favorite Mech?
Soundwave frowned:
-Request: where's Rumble?
Jazz sighed:
-So direct... he smiled and raised the tape in front of him. Here~
And Rumble, despite his cassette form, yelled:
-You traitor!
The Soundwave field intensified, crackling:
-Order: Rumble RETURN.
Rumble could be heard swallowing. Jazz understood the clue, and gave the tape an impulse, projecting it towards Soundwave. Soundwave opened his frame and Rumble disappeared into it.
-Well, one good thing done! Jazz said quietly.
Soundwave didn't reply, clearly not in the mood to respond to his antics. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Jazz. He was staring beyond him, continuing to stare at Mirage as if he were about to shoot him. Jazz shifted just a little to the side to hide the nobleman:
-Hey, Sound, Babewave, can you focus on me?
Soundwave's field betrayed surprise at the nickname, then apprehension, before he regained control and brought his field closer to himself, to avoid others sensing it.
Jazz understood where the concern was coming from, and gave him a small nod:
-It's all right. Mirage knows all about it.
-... Request: in the loop on everything?
-Most importantly, I still need to refine the details.
Soundwave clenched his fists:
-... Query: why tell him? then his arm cannon activated. Need to eliminate him?
Mirage almost recoiled with a grimace.
Jazz raised his hands in peace:
-Wow, no, mech, no! Mirage is my second-in-command, and my buddy! You're not touching him.
-Statement: false. Mirage: not Jazz's friend. Prowl: said the same thing. Prowl and Jazz: in the wrong.
Jazz raised an eyebrow:
-... Wait, what? Prowl told you about Mirage?
And Mirage behind, who held back from asking 'Prowl also has a relationship with Soundwave?'
Soundwave rumbled:
-Prowl: say Jazz cared about Mirage. Contradiction: Mirage to have shot Jazz.
Jazz pushed to the understanding 'ohhhhh', before laughing:
-Ah yes, that! Don't worry about it. I ordered him to do it!
The Soundwave field exploded, and both Jazz and Mirage trembled under the sudden surge of rage and... Fear?
Jazz barely had time to say a word when Soundwave closed the distance, grabbing his shoulders with such force that the man with the visor winced.
-Jazz: Did what?!
Jazz blinked, too surprised to come up with a decent answer. He clearly hadn't expected Soundwave to react so strongly. So... So emotionally?
-Jazz: lost his mind?! Jazz: wants to die? Request: Prowl knows?!!
Jazz opened his mouth, but once again couldn't really answer. He wasn't even smiling anymore, too stunned by the Decepticon's screams and field. He'd... Had he ever seen him like this? Not that Soundwave had ever shown any emotion, but this was really a level above the rest?
-... Yeah? Jazz answered awkwardly. Yeah, Prowl knows, he got the report.
-Prowl: didn't tell Soundwave!! Soundwave: is...! Is...!
A glitch ran through the Decepticon's voice, and he tightened his grip on Jazz's shoulders, as if he feared the other might escape.
Jazz made no attempt to flee. Instead, he gently placed his hands on the larger man's forearms:
-Sound, I'm fine... Everything was planned, Mirage aimed well, and...
Sound looked back at Mirage, his visor glowing a dangerous red:
-Mirage: fucking stupid autobot! Mirage: blindly following orders!
Soundwave may have been an enemy, but to be yelled at like that by THIS kind of enemy was a real blow, and Mirage, already well into his stride, bit his lip before lowering his eyes and shaking his head.
He couldn't decide whether he felt like a soldier being yelled at by his superior, or a young spark being yelled at by his creator.
Jazz let go of Soundwave's arms to grab his face instead:
-Hey, Hey, Sound!
He called out to him, forcing him to turn his attention back to him.
-Hey, look at me. I'm here. I'm fine. OKAY? I'm fine-?
Jazz gasped as Soundwave let go of him, only to grab Jazz by the waist and lift him abruptly onto his shoulder, before turning to fly away.
Jazz gasped. Uhhh?
Mirage bugged too, and they exchanged an even more bewildered look???
Mirage ::I... Must do something?::
Jazz ::Euu.. No ? Well, you can go back to the ark, and don't get caught. Uh, I'll try to get back before the night is over::
Mirage ::..... OK?::
Yeah, Mirage was stunned there. Like. What? Like... Sorry, what??
Well, it hadn't gone at all as Jazz had hoped. This whole evening was NOT going at all as he'd hoped.
Running into Rumble, revealing everything to Mirage, then getting kidnapped by Soundwave...
Yeah, no, Jazz had something else in mind for tonight.
He didn't try too hard to defend himself, as Soundwave held him like a sack of potatoes. And let's just say Jazz wasn't going to risk struggling and get Sound off his back, because as much as Soundwave had the ability to fly-okay, it wasn't nearly as good as a seeker, but Jazz was definitely NOT cut out for flying in any way, shape or form. And strangely enough, dying from a fall wasn't in his top 5 things to do.
Jazz only hoped that Soundwave hadn't switched to the point of taking him back to the Nemesis. And fortunately, that didn't seem to be the case.
They landed much further out in the desert. It would take Jazz several hours to drive back to the Ark. Soundwave had obviously chosen his spot well: a canyon. Rather a good place to hide.
Soundwave took them there, and better still, headed straight for what appeared to be a cave.
Soundwave had been silent throughout the flight, and Jazz suspected he must have spent some time scanning the area for a quiet spot.
It hadn't failed.
Soundwave entered the cave and threw Jazz off without the slightest delicacy.
Jazz didn't really try to catch himself, just dropping onto his buttocks for form's sake, before complaining dramatically:
-Ouch mech, gently-mhg?! Jazz stifled his complaint when his lips were abruptly captured.
Soundwave had pounced on him, tackling him to the ground and retracting his mask, only to kiss him full on the lips with a force fueled by anger.
Jazz turned off his optics, leaving Soundwave to lead the kiss. He felt the Decepticon take his face in hand, feel him attack his lips with ever greater fervor, almost desperate, and past the surprise, Jazz responded with the same intensity.
Soundwave tilted his head to get a better angle. He didn't try to put his tongue in, he wanted to stick to 'simple' kissing, but it was with such heat that Jazz didn't even find it that simple. Not when it felt like Soundwave was devouring him, coming to bite his lips, wringing meager moans from him.
On the private link, Rumble emitted a plaintive squeak:
-::D-Damn boss, I'm here!::
And Soundwave coldly retorted:
-::This :Punishment::
Rumble squeaked and forced an immediate recharge, so as not to have to hear any more.
Soundwave ignored him to concentrate on Jazz. To embrace him better. To feel him better. Eventually, he parted their lips, though they remained forehead to forehead, red visor to blue visor, panting.
Jazz reactivated his feverish optics, looking at Soundwave above him, who didn't seem to be in any better state... And Soundwave stroked his cheeks, slowly.
The heat gradually died down, giving way to cold, heavier silence... more worried...
Jazz trembled as he felt the Soundwave field expand again. Much less fiery than earlier. Much softer, tender... Feverish... Worried...
Jazz was speechless. Even more so when Soundwave's visor retracted, leaving his full face in Jazz's view.
-.. Sound... Jazz murmured, his throat constricted.
Soundwave looked at him with an expression he hated. Soundwave was strong, powerful, charismatic. He wasn't weak. He wasn't sensitive. And yet, at this moment, he was looking at him with such pain, such fragility.
Jazz slowly raised a hand to imitate his companion, placing a hand on his cheek in turn.
-... I'm fine... Jazz murmured again.
And in the silence of the cave, the sound of his own visor retracting sounded loud. His blue optics met the red ones without the slightest barrier between them.
-Jazz: idiot... Soundwave pronounced it too softly, enough for Jazz to feel his Spark being shaken.
He let Soundwave lean into him again, taking another kiss, much softer, much more chaste. Then the Decepticon laid his head on the hollow of his neck, snuggling up to him, holding him as if he were about to disappear.
Jazz embraced him in return, their engines whirring and whirring, their fans finally activated and blowing.
-... I'm sorry. Jazz murmured. I won't do it again.
Soundwave tightened his grip on him and slowly shook his head:
-Jazz: shouldn't make promises he can't keep. Jazz: unable to take care of himself.
Jazz laughed awkwardly:
-Hey, come on!
-Soundwave: always right.
Soundwave sighed:
-... Soundwave: must order Prowl to keep a better eye on you.
Jazz rolled his eyes rhetorically.
-Oh, right away!
-Prowl: knows how to yell at Jazz.
-Because don't you think he already does that? And seriously, if there's anyone who doesn't take care of himself, it's Prowl. I have to constantly remind him to rest and eat!
There was a dejected silence, before Soundwave growled:
-Autobot: stupid and incapable of self-preservation. Soundwave: will take you back to the Decepticons.
Jazz shrugged an optic:
-Because we'll be treated better in the Decepticons?
...
Soundwave grimaced:
-... Soundwave :will have to keep a better eye on you.
Jazz gave a slightly more sincere smile:
-Yeah, that sounds like a better solution already...~
-Soundwave: will have to remind you to take care of yourself.
-That's fine with me, I like it when you contact me~
Jazz heaved a sigh of relief when he felt Soundwave kiss him on the neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warm exchange.
-...Soundwave: must educate autobot Mirage. Autobot Mirage: listens to Jazz too much.
-Tss, you're just jealous that someone trusts me so much.
-Jazz: not a trustworthy person.
-... Whoa. That hurts, Mech.
-Jazz: manipulator and liar.
Jazz pouted:
-...pff..you know what I can't even argue with that.
-Reason: because Soundwave is always right.
-...alala... Jazz laughs. Yeah, Sound. You're always right. Soundwave superior after all~
-Yes.
Soundwave continued to kiss his neck, ever so gently, and Jazz felt himself trembling slightly with ease at his little gestures.
-... We'd better get back, Sound...our team-mates will be wondering...
Soundwave only squeezed him tighter:
-... Request: a little more...
Jazz felt the Spark crackle again. He snuggled more comfortably against the Decepticon, unable to resist when he asked in such a tone...
-... Ok... A little more...
Pages Navigation
Wave_length on Chapter 1 Wed 02 Apr 2025 10:55AM UTC
Comment Actions
Lunalalune on Chapter 1 Fri 13 Jun 2025 08:57PM UTC
Last Edited Fri 13 Jun 2025 09:00PM UTC
Comment Actions
KaramellKitty42 on Chapter 1 Wed 02 Apr 2025 11:40AM UTC
Comment Actions
Lunalalune on Chapter 1 Fri 13 Jun 2025 08:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
KaramellKitty42 on Chapter 1 Fri 13 Jun 2025 09:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
Eternalevecho on Chapter 1 Wed 02 Apr 2025 01:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
broken_government46 on Chapter 1 Thu 03 Apr 2025 04:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
(Previous comment deleted.)
Lunalalune on Chapter 1 Fri 13 Jun 2025 08:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
(Previous comment deleted.)
Lunalalune on Chapter 1 Tue 17 Jun 2025 05:55PM UTC
Comment Actions
LiraBuswavi on Chapter 1 Fri 15 Aug 2025 06:22PM UTC
Comment Actions
Justamonocle (Guest) on Chapter 2 Wed 09 Apr 2025 06:55PM UTC
Comment Actions
KaramellKitty42 on Chapter 2 Wed 09 Apr 2025 08:09PM UTC
Comment Actions
Lunalalune on Chapter 2 Fri 13 Jun 2025 08:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
Eternalevecho on Chapter 2 Thu 10 Apr 2025 12:27AM UTC
Comment Actions
Pseudorandom_Number on Chapter 2 Tue 15 Apr 2025 07:08AM UTC
Comment Actions
Lunalalune on Chapter 2 Fri 13 Jun 2025 08:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
broken_government46 on Chapter 2 Wed 16 Apr 2025 05:28PM UTC
Comment Actions
LiraBuswavi on Chapter 2 Fri 15 Aug 2025 06:49PM UTC
Comment Actions
Eternalevecho on Chapter 3 Wed 16 Apr 2025 02:52PM UTC
Comment Actions
broken_government46 on Chapter 3 Wed 16 Apr 2025 06:01PM UTC
Comment Actions
Lunalalune on Chapter 3 Fri 13 Jun 2025 08:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
RainIsBirdSpit on Chapter 3 Wed 09 Jul 2025 02:04PM UTC
Comment Actions
Eternalevecho on Chapter 4 Wed 23 Apr 2025 03:28PM UTC
Comment Actions
Chiri_chan on Chapter 4 Thu 24 Apr 2025 12:50AM UTC
Comment Actions
Sun11 on Chapter 4 Fri 25 Apr 2025 07:52AM UTC
Comment Actions
Lunalalune on Chapter 4 Fri 13 Jun 2025 08:30PM UTC
Comment Actions
CatalystCreature on Chapter 4 Sun 17 Aug 2025 02:58AM UTC
Comment Actions
LuckyPaw on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Sep 2025 09:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation