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English
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Published:
2022-05-25
Updated:
2022-05-26
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1,625
Chapters:
2/?
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When Prowl died

Summary:

When Prowl died and Jazz's sanity is hanging by a thread.

Notes:

Well, I've had this bunny for a very long time and finally found the will to write it ^^" This is my first solo fic in /years/ XD Hope you all enjoy it and comments are always welcome! The fic is not beta's, so I'm sorry for any and all typos <3

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

~

 

Prowl's processor, as always, booted up before the rest of his frame.

 

And immediately noticed that something was very wrong. Like the fact that he had gotten into his berth last night and powered down only to wake up immobile and bound. His arms were tied tightly over his helm in stasis cuffs. His legs were still free but the stasis cuffs were unfortunately on.

 

Was he captured? Was there an enemy attack? Was his memory tampered? Was he hacked?

Thousand of thoughts and scenarios suddenly played out in less that a klick in his processor as the rest of his frame booted. His wings were under him, however not yet uncomfortable. He was positioned in such a way that there were... cushions under him? Pain, discomfort, even missing limbs were potentially expected, but his frame didn't give any indication or system warnings that something was wrong.

 

In the end he allowed his optics to online once he had gathered as much data as he could while offline.

 

"Prowler."

 

The Praxian blinked, surprised as he stared at the mech before him, sitting at the edge of the berth in his quarters.

 

"...Jazz?"

 

The visored mech gave a relieved sigh. "Thank Primus yer okay. Was worried there for a klick."

 

"Wait, what?" Prowl tried to move on instinct but couldn't. Because he was /bound/. But this was all...

 

Jazz was supposed to be on a mission. A mission gone wrong where they didn't have contact with him. Prowl was already deep into the works of a rescue plan. In fact that's why he fell in recharge so late, he had been busy and cooped up in the tactical office trying to plan the best route to... save Jazz.

 

Apparently the visored mech had gotten out on his own. Somehow Prowl expected that, and was relieved even. But something was off. Prowl looked the other over, from his pedes to his sensor horns. Jazz seemed well, no seeming injuries and yet... yet the color of his visor was off. It was /not/ the blue he knew. It was paler, if brighter.

 

"Don't worry, I ain't lettin' ya out of my sight this time." Jazz grinned at him and now Prowl knew something was wrong.

 

"Jazz, release me this instant." Prowl tried testing his bounds but even combat frames had no chance against stasis cuffs.

 

"Ah, no can do. That didn't end so well last time." The visored mech said apologetically.

 

"Last time?" Prowl repeated, "What are you talking about? When did you return from your mission?"

 

"A while back now. No worries. This time they ain't getting to yeah."

 

Prowl felt suddenly a slow head ache starting to grow. This made no sense. Was Jazz compromised? No, even if he was, Jazz had several fail safes, the simplest of which was to delete all the classified information in his head, along with access codes – he wouldn’t have been able to even get inside the base.

 

Jazz shifted and got closer to the bound mech, reaching with a crawled hand to stroke Prowl's helm, over his chevron. The Praxian didn't pull away, but the frown on his face only grew, along with his concern in his field.

 

"What are you doing?" Prowl asked. The more he knew, the faster he could make a sense of the entire situation.

 

"Just enjoying having my conjux next to me, why?" Jazz shifted again, this time laying down next to Prowl.

 

"I would enjoy it more if I wasn't immobile." Prowl said and tested his bounds again.

 

Jazz was silent after that. Just when Prowl was thinking about saying something else ,Jazz replied. "It's the only way."

 

"...the only way to what?" Prowl asked as he shifted his helm to look at the other, speaking gently in his audio. Jazz wasn't looking at him. He was pressed so close Prowl could feel how fast his spark was pulsing.

 

"To keep you safe, of course."

 

And Prowl suddenly could distinguish Jazz's tightly pulled field, and it was /terrified/.

"Safe from what? We are at the Autobots HQ in sector 826A. Not even Ravage has managed to break into it."

 

Jazz was silent, but he did pull Prowl closer to him.

 

"Does Ratchet know you're back?" Prowl tried, "Does /anyone/ know you're back?"

 

"You know I'm back." Jazz spoke quietly.

 

"And I am bound." Prowl replied as a matter of fact.

 

Jazz refused to answer that.

 

"...Jazz? Jazz. Look at me." Prowl spoke and tried to give his voice more power, however when Jazz /did/ look at him his resolve wavered. The visor was even paler, the field more uneven as Jazz was having difficulty to keep it tight. When the other moved, he was still trembling.

 

Prowl had seen Jazz after many bad missions. Tortured, to the point where sometime limbs were missing. And the visored mech still somehow found the strength to smile. Prowl knew it was a mask, that unfortunately Jazz refused often enough to remove it even for him.

 

"...What happened?" Prowl asked quietly and just like every time, he felt himself terrified of that answer.

 

"...you died." Jazz whispered and shuddered for a moment, mask cracking for just a bit until he pieced it back together for him. Prowl watch Jazz plaster a smile with illegal ease. "No worries. Ain't gonna happen again."

 

/Again/?!

 

~

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Notes:

A short one today, but the next ones should be longer!

Chapter Text

 

Prowl felt like he was running in circles. Or having a conversation with the wall. Because no matter how many times he tried to explain to the other that /he had not died/, the spy was adamant that he had.

 

By this point, several joors later, Prowl knew Jazz wasn't trying to hack, hurt or kill him. He could have done all three in the time they have been here. The stasis cuffs were blocking signal, both receiving and sending. But his shift would start soon, his absence would be noticed. Prowl was growing exponentially more worried for that moment when it came. If someone found them, with Jazz like this, Prowl was more concerned for the mechs that discovered them.

 

"Are you hungry?" Jazz suddenly asked as he pulled a cube from his subspace. His hands were shaking slightly.

 

“Jazz...” Prowl tried again and shifted, “Can you please release me?”

 

The visored mech looked at him, helm tilted. “...why would I do that?”

 

“You can’t expect that we would stay like this forever.” Prowl exclaimed, “Someone will find us.”

 

“No.”

 

“No?” Prowl asked.

 

“No.” Jazz said as a matter of fact as he pressed the cube to Prowl’s lips. “If I release you, you will die.”

 

Prowl resisted the urge to either sigh, yell and groan. Instead he just took a sip from the cube placed expectantly against his lips. But he was too logical for that, instead, as always, he had a puzzle to solve when it came to Jazz. Many thought that Jazz was straightforward and easy going. They assumed that Prowl was complex (which he was), however Jazz was a true maze. And not even Prowl, after so many vorns in a relationship with this mech, could always find the right path towards him.

 

“What makes you think that?” Prowl asked quietly instead.

 

“...I’ve seen you die.” Jazz answered him just as quietly.

 

This time instead of denying it and trying to prove him wrong, Prowl went on. “How did I die?”

 

Jazz pulled the cube and his lips wobbled a bit before he forced that dreaded smile. He swallowed and looked away, frame still slightly trembling. “You died on the battlefield. You pushed me out of the way from a missile.”

 

Prowl was about to say something time time, but surprisingly Jazz went on. “You then died here, in this very base… it was being shelled, and you refused to leave, wanting to evacuate everyone. The building crumbled and you were buried alive… you died, alone and in agony, in the rubble.” Jazz’s voice hitched. Prowl saw him gripping the edge of the berth and he was certain the metal was bending. “One time they captured you. You were tortured. Tortured, and tortured and you screamed and screamed and I could hear everything... and once they were done… they shot you. And threw you out, like a piece of trash.” The static grew louder in his voice. And then he went on.

 

Jazz kept talking. Describing vividly, with detail, all the ways Prowl had died to the point where Prowl almost believed him he did.

 

Finally, Jazz looked at him and it was a broken look, like the other didn’t have the strength nor will to even breathe. “You died… and I stayed. And I couldn't come with you, I couldn’t join you. I lost you. Over and over again. And every time I kept thinking, I could save him, I’ll find a way – I’m Jazz! I would definitely figure something out! I would save you, even if it kills me!” He raised his voice, anger flicking in his tightly pulled field, mixing with the pain and grief. “You all think I’m /strong/. Or that I’m selfless! But I’m not. I’m NOT! Not against this.” Prowl watched as Jazz shuttered his visor and struggled.His spark broke, because the other was hurting and he couldn’t do anything to take his pain away.

 

“I thought I was strong enough to live in a world where you’re not in it—but I’m not. I’m weak. And selfish. So you will stay there, bound. I won’t lose you. Not this time. Not again. Because the next time you go, I’m coming with you.”

 

And in that moment Prowl suddenly saw the blaster Jazz had pulled from his subspace and held in his lap.

 

"And there's no force in this universe that'll stop me."