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ante_luceTitle: Five Times someone woke up to find Jazz in the room, and One Time they didn't
'Verse: TFA
Characters: Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
It had been the humming that had woken him. It was a familiar voice, though he'd never actually heard the mech humming so audibly around him before. Jazz was too professional for that.
Jazz was also perched on top of his chestplates, professionalism be damned, visor fixed on a datapad as that soft hum vibrated through his frame and into Ultra Magnus's own.
Blinking, he tried to speak, opening his mouth to ask why the Guardsmech was curled up on him, purring (because it wasn't quite humming, humming was supposed to be more musical, wasn't it?) like a large white cybercat in a beam of solar radiation, only for Jazz to rest fingertips on his lips, keeping him silent. A grin and the visored mech murmured.
“Sorry Magnus. You gotta rest, and that means keeping quiet and not getting worked up. Doctor's orders. I know you got questions, so I'll give you a quick run down of exactly why I'm up here in a moment, and you can ask stuff after I'm done, alright?”
He nodded. His processors were still too uncoordinated to carry out any sort of meaningful conversation anyway.
. . .
“Look, there's nothing for it, we have to let his spark start relearning to regulate itself or he'll be hooked up to those machines for the rest of his life!”
“His injuries! His spark's not strong enough to handle that kind of stress!”
“He's not getting stronger because the machines are doing all the work for him!”
“Harmonising the regulators to specific frequencies is a delicate procedure. If he crashes, it will take time to get the equipment to the correct settings. It will put too much additional strain on his systems for me to approve of using them as a stopgap measure.”
“We have to try. One cycle.”
“One cycle, and then he either functions on his own or stays on the regulators for as long as it takes.”
. . .
“He's crashing! Get those cables in place!”
“We can't fire another pulse at him, his spark won't stand the shock!”
“What are you doing?! Get away!”
“Don't! He... It's helping, whatever he's doing, it's helping. The Magnus is stabilising.”
“... Alright. That one can stay, but the rest of you, out!”
. . .
Ultra Magnus stared. Jazz tilted his helm and shrugged, smiling faintly.
“Manipulation of spark energy is one of the basic principles of Circuit Su. It's easier for me to sync my field with yours to keep your spark stable if I'm in contact with you. Good thing I was on guard duty that cycle, huh?”
Abruptly, the Magnus remembered that the white mech who served as the Steelhaven's primary navigator and pilot was also a fully trained Cyberninja. It was stunningly (and shamefully) easy to forget, especially since most usually saw the mech at the helm of a ship or standing to attention outside a doorway or beside the Autobot Commander.
He had a feeling Jazz liked it that way. All the better to be underestimated, my dear (and he had to be drugged if his processor was supplying such odd commentary).
“And you're coming off the sedatives the medics had you on to keep you resting." Hah, he knew it! Not being able to read minds, the cyberninja continued without skipping a beat. "They want to wean you off my charming presence slowly and that's easier done with you able to consciously keep track of your spark.”
“When... I... recharge?” His vocaliser worked slowly, almost painfully, but the white mech was patient, waiting for him to finish.
“I stay put up here. Better safe than sorry.”
Ultra Magnus nodded, then inhaled sharply as his chest suddenly burned, shuddering as error messages started popping up in his HUD. Why wasn't Jazz helping him? Wasn't that what he had said he was there to do? White hands gripped his shoulders tightly and dimly, he registered Jazz's voice in his audio, low and urgent.
“Sir, regulate your spark, you gotta figure out how to do this, c'mon!”
He tried, narrowing his focus down to the spasming light within his chest. Gasping as it refused to calm down, he started when a gentle wash of energy rolled across him and the humming started up again. Looking up, he saw that Jazz's visor was dim, the mech's helm bowed as if in concentration as he hummed. It wasn't enough, his spark was still bucking like a wild thing. A low groan escaped him as he redoubled his efforts, trying to will his recalcitrant spark into beating in time with the white mech's own spark field.
Finally, he felt his systems ease, the pounding in his chest settling into a steady, even thrum, blending with the soothing note issuing from Jazz's vocaliser. Head dropping back onto the berth, he sighed, already feeling defeated.
“... Bad...”
“Nah, s'just a mild one.” Jazz had settled back down on his chest again, murmuring as he resumed his study of his datapad.
“Mi-ld?” He blinked at the ceiling, and the ninja gave him a quiet chuckle, reading his stunned silence perfectly.
“It just feels worse 'cos it's the first one you were working to control on your own. If you'd been in any real trouble, I'd have taken over and pulled you out. Go on and recharge. You need your rest.”
The larger mech offlined his optics and just tried to recover, listening to the gentle purr emanating from somewhere atop his frame.
= = =
Megatron woke on a medical berth, surrounded by soft beeps and humming equipment. Restraints held him down, immobilising his servos. Sensing someone nearby, he turned his head and saw a black and white mech sitting beside him. A blue visor tilted at him nonchalantly, as if he were just another bot, perhap waiting in line for a transport shuttle.
“You're awake then.”
He glared, as ineffectual it it might have been with all the restraints on him. “What are you doing here?”
He got a smile in return. “Well, I'm here to kill you.”
The straightforward manner in which this was said stunned the Decepticon leader for a moment. Recovering, he growled.
“How direct. Not going to prevaricate and dissemble over dirty deeds like the rest of your faction?”
“Mm, neither you nor I are leaving this room with you alive, and I don't like you enough to be considerate of your tender feelings. So it doesn't matter.”
The mech's shrug infuriated him for some reason, and he snarled.
“Revenge and a personal vendetta, Autobot? Isn't that against the bleatings of your faction?”
His words rolled off the Guardsmech's back like so much white noise. “Considering that I'm here on orders to take care of the problem properly before we end up in the same situation as before... It's nothing new, really.”
“So, the cowards on the council send their little lapdog to do their dirty work.”
“You know, I would have thought you'd rather go in private, instead of on display, made a spectacle of before the whole of Cybertron. Because you are gonna die. No one expects any different. I dare say if the Council tried, there'd be a revolt.”
“This is the Autobot version of mercy, I presume.”
“It's more than you ever gave any of us.” The visored mech's calm smile didn't waver, and Megatron found himself lashing out, grasping for any possible chink in the ninja's armour.
“So, how will you do the deed? Slit my energon lines? Crush my sparkchamber with your bare hands? Or perhaps you'll use that processor over matter of yours. Yes, I do know about your little cyberninja tricks. I don't forget when a whole base gets wiped out in their recharge.”
“Mm, I'll admit it, that shoot on sight order you gave your troops made things a little trickier for me. But I managed.”
“Someone will find this suspicious. The Decepticon warleader suddenly dying in Autobot custody. Some bleeding spark amongst your number will martyr me.”
The visored mech chuckled.
“Oh, that's taken care of.”
“... What did you do?”
“Another little cyberninja trick. An energy pulse in the right spot, and you collapsed while being transferred you into Elite Guard custody. Official diagnosis, a weakened spark caused by stellar cycles of neglect and poor repair while on a certain little organic mudball.” The smiling mech gestured to the medical equipment. “Why do you think you're hooked up to all this slag?”
“You were there. They will suspect you.”
His executioner only smirked, leaning on bi-coloured knees to reply. “I appreciate the concern, but I'm not the only cyberninja in this place, Megatron. I'm just the most visible. I was nowhere near you when you collapsed.”
He was silent in the face of this information, and the Elite mech rose, brushing a hand over his chest in a mocking parody of a loving caress.
“Now, to answer your question. I'd hate to see you off unsatisfied, after all. Your end comes courtesy of another trick, one I learnt while on Earth.”
Another hum started up, subtly differing from that of the equipment surrounding him. Gasping as his spark seized, Megatron caught the intent look on the other mech's face.
“You know how we kept your Omega clones from destroying Detroit? Yeah, something like that, only I'm gonna be using it on your spark, not my own.”
“You-!” The grey mech groaned, his spark flaring wildly as something reached inside him and twisted/compressed/tore, helm falling back on the berth with gritted denta as the ninja broke off the hum to continue talking.
“The SOP calls for spark failure, but I'm deviating especially for you. Call it blasphemy, call it heresy, but a good mech sacrificed his life to restore the AllSpark, and I don't want yours getting in the mix and contaminating it.”
“You would deny me the afterlife?”
“Yup.”
“Vicious, Autobot. You could have been one of mine.” Megatron sneered, fighting to the end, clawing out each moment of life from the black and white mech's hold. He did not expect the easy, accepting shrug from the cyberninja.
“You know how it is, staring into the abyss and all that.”
“You have no honour. If I were to face you on the battlefield...”
“Megatron. I'm a ninja. If anyone paused to think about it long enough, they'd realise my skill set is hardly typical of your average soldier. My work for the 'Bots usually isn't 'honourable'.”
“My, what would your precious Earth team say if they found out?” He laughed mockingly, and the ninja chuckled softly in concert.
“They won't.”
“You're so sure.”
“Mmhm. Because you're here, about to die, put down like a glitching drone, and absolutely helpless to prevent it. The mighty Megatron, feared Decepticon leader, laid low by a touch to his frame and medical restraints. You haven't even tried to break free. Given up already? And you caused us so much bother. How pathetic.”
He roared, tearing free of the berth as alarms shrilled, only to drop to his knees before the victorious smirk on the white mech's face, collapsing on his side as pain rocked through his chest, belatedly realising how his bonds had seemed to loosen before he'd lunged.
“Ah, you tried to escape, not realising that the machines were keeping your spark online. Such a pity the medical staff will get here too late to revive you. And no one will paint a mech who made such a 'mistake' as a martyr.”
A hum lashed out at him, tugging agonisingly as a light glittered before his optics. The ninja sauntered over, crouching down to cup his hand about the spark shard.
“Don't look so worried. I've got a nice box for you. Plush digs and all. You'll be comfortable, at least.”
White fingers plucked the shard out of thin air, and then everything went black.
= = =
The waking world returned through a soft, contented haze. Stretching out languidly in her warm berth, the slowly onlining femme blinked as a weight registered on her chassis. Looking down at the white arm slung over her midsection, she followed the limb up to find a shoulder and a blue visor glowing in amusement over a fond grin. She shook her head, smiling back, then snuggled closer.
“Thought you would have left before I woke.”
Her berthmate chuckled. “M'not quite that uncouth, femme.”
“Mm, uncouth's the last word I'd use to describe you, but didn't you have a briefing or something to report to?”
“They postponed it. For some reason, all the rooms in this zone are glitching, no one can open the doors.” A wicked smirk and she laughed, smacking a white chest lightly.
“How convenient. Well, I'm not complaining, this is nice. You didn't have to stay though.”
“I thought I should. It'd be poor thanks for your help to just slip out in the middle of your recharge cycle, not to mention just plain rude.”
“It's nothing any of the Guard wouldn't do for one of their own. Jazz.”
“Mm?”
“Don't wait this long again. Find one of us, anyone. Better yet, talk to the Magnus, get reassigned somewhere. You can't keep this up forever.”
She waited for his acknowledging nod before pointing to the door.
“Now, go fix what you did.”
“Yes'm!”
She swatted at the cyberninja, laughing at his playful salute. Grinning, the white mech rose from her berth and made for the door, glancing back over his shoulder and smiling warmly at her. She watched as that warmth faded, replaced by the easy-going Guardsmech.
“Perfect, not a crack.”
A knowing flicker of a visor, one she met with a suddenly weary smile, and the mech was out the door as through the base, violent swearing echoed off the corridors when doors suddenly unjammed, unleashing the aggravation of the bots previously trapped behind them.
= = =
“Hey there, hero.”
“Ow.”
He blinked awake and immediately regretted it. Pain slammed into his processors, and he cringed away from the light futilely. Someone squeezed his shoulder gently, chuckling softly.
“Hold still, the medics will be by shortly to see if your processors got damaged, well, damaged more, according to Ratchet.”
“Jazz?” He bolted upright, or would have, if the cyberninja hadn't kept a firm hold on his shoulder.
“The one and only. Stay down, you don't wanna jostle a head injury. Trust me on this one.”
“Where have you been?! We haven't heard from you in ages!” His optics were bright with his outrage, and the white mech smiled ruefully at him.
“I know, I know. Guard business, 'Bee. Can't tell you more than that.”
“Why didn't you let us know you were going to be gone? I mean, we saw Sentinel around, so I thought you were just avoiding us. Why didn't he go as well?”
“Not allowed to talk about this mission with anyone not involved. And the Guards go when and where they're told, 'Bee. I'm not always on the same team as Sentinel. Half the time, I'm working alone.”
“... That sucks.” Bumblebee observed eloquently, and Jazz shrugged.
“It's the way things are with us.”
“So they can just order you off and you have to go?”
“Pretty much, yes. We're on call all the time, it's why most of the combat rated Guard live on base. This is the first time I've been back in nearly a decacycle. On the other hand, the list of bots that I am completely unable to refuse is really short. Now, why did you go and nearly get killed in basic training of all places?”
He accepted the raised optic ridge and mildly scolding tone with good grace, dropping his head back (carefully!) against the berth.
“... I want to join the Elite Guard. Prowl gave up everything to buy us a second chance, I don't want to waste it by being average. And I got a lot to make up for, since I got kicked out the first time 'round.”
Jazz sighed, letting go of his shoulder to pat it gently. “I know you're pushing yourself to be the best, and I can tell you Prowl would be proud of your efforts, but you gotta be alive to get in the Guard. So pace yourself, alright? Being reckless about things won't help.”
“... I dunno if it's worth it. No team, no time for friends... I get that it's not your fault, but I don't know if I can stand it.”
“You gotta decide that for yourself, 'Bee. I will say this though, get good enough, and you get to pick your own assignments. Barring any overriding orders of course, and even then only the Magnus can give those. And Ultra Magnus likes your team, so...”
The visored mech smiled, and Bumblebee grinned back.
“Heh, alright, I see where you're going. It's taking so long though.”
“Patience is a virtue, is it not?”
“Now you sound like Prowl.” He groaned, then fell silent abruptly, flinching when Jazz patted his shoulder again, quietly understanding.
“Mech had a good head on his shoulders. Now, I gotta report in, so you stay put and don't give the medics a processor ache, okay? They've worked hard enough for one cycle.”
He watched as the mech stood up to leave, optics landing on the patchwork of welds littering the Guardsmech's side. Jazz noticed the direction of his gaze, and murmured softly.
“Still want to be one of us, 'Bee? It's not an easy life, nor is it a particularly safe one.”
Bumblebee met the mech's visor, expression burning with determination.
“More than ever. Someone's gotta be out there watching your back.”
The white ninjabot chuckled, nodding.
“Alright. Then I guess I'll be seeing you.”
He smirked. “You bet you will.”
= = =
“Jazz?”
His sleepy murmur was met by a faint smile. “Yeah OP?”
“What are you doing?” Optimus tried to sit up straight, and found himself neatly wrapped in a blanket. Blinking at Jazz, the ninja only shrugged at him unrepentantly.
“Tucking you in, since you seem to have decided that you're gonna live in your office from now on.”
“I didn't mean to fall asleep, there was just so much to do...”
“Easy, Optimus. You can't do it all alone.”
“There's no one else to do it, Jazz. I'm responsible for my team, for as long as they remain my team. We're all going our separate ways and everyone wants reports on my mechs...”
“Everyone can wait. You haven't gotten any rest since we got back from Earth. Don't make me nap-tap you.”
“You can do that?” He stared, and the white mech tilted his helm at him, arms folded across his front, chuckling softly.
“Are you questioning my physical ability or my legal one? 'Cos I assure you, as a cyberninja and an Elite Guard, I've got both. And I've got Ratchet's backing too.”
Blinking, Optimus laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “... I'll go quietly, officer.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Jazz steered him out of the room and towards the living quarters.
“Good mech.”
“Jazz?”
“Yeah?”
“Where did you get the teddy bear?”
“Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies, OP.”
= = =
And the one time they didn't...
The room was quiet, its occupants both mechs who weren't given to pointless, purposeless chatter. Finally, one broke the silence, murmuring softly.
“We're doing well. The Earth's gonna be looked after, the Council are gonna set up an outpost there, with regular patrols and all. Optimus is heading it. The mech refused a spot on the Guard, said it'd take him from where he was needed. They gave him Elite status anyway, on reserve, so he's got that ace in the hole to pull if he ever needs more clout. Not that he should, not in the foreseeable future anyway. He's got a good bunch with him, all hand picked by the Magnus. Ratchet, Arcee and Omega will be there too.”
“As for the others... Bulkhead's doing great things with transwarp tech. Perceptor and Wheeljack are this close to adopting him as their own. And Bumblebee... heh, would you believe it? He's gone back to the Academy, wants to graduate proper and get into the Guard. They have him on an accelerated course, given his experience level. I think he'll make it. Don't tell him that OP's already got a spot though. I think he'd spontaneously combust trying to get in the Guard yesterday.”
The white mech shook his head, smiling, then continued.
“Sari's fine, she calls all of us when she can. Her dad's got a new project cooking in his lab. We got together and programmed something for them. It'll remind him to refuel, get some fresh air and father-daughter time at regular intervals. She says that Detroit's putting up something in your honour. I know you aren't much for fancy accolades, but I think you'll like what they're doing. They're planting a tree in that park of yours. It'll grow strong and tall, and give shelter to everyone under it.”
A sigh.
“I'm sorry I haven't visited 'til now. Yeah, I know it's illogical to be talking to a mech who won't ever wake up, and if you could you'd tell me that this frame is no more you than the berth it's parked on. But it was you, and that's as good as I'm gonna get now, I guess. There's a lot I wish we could've shared. We were just getting to be friends, and Earth's a place that really grows on you. I was thinking of resigning from the Guard to join your team on Earth. Official-like. Not just stealing a trip through a transwarp gate on the pretext of orders.”
“Well, no need for that now. I hope you don't mind that I won't be able to come by any time soon. Ultra Magnus has me stationed permanently with Optimus. I'll be keeping an optic on him and the rest of your team, so rest easy, okay?”
A white hand reached out, fingertips resting lightly on a grey arm.
“And I'll see you on the other side someday. G'bye Prowl.”
'Verse: TFA
Characters: Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
It had been the humming that had woken him. It was a familiar voice, though he'd never actually heard the mech humming so audibly around him before. Jazz was too professional for that.
Jazz was also perched on top of his chestplates, professionalism be damned, visor fixed on a datapad as that soft hum vibrated through his frame and into Ultra Magnus's own.
Blinking, he tried to speak, opening his mouth to ask why the Guardsmech was curled up on him, purring (because it wasn't quite humming, humming was supposed to be more musical, wasn't it?) like a large white cybercat in a beam of solar radiation, only for Jazz to rest fingertips on his lips, keeping him silent. A grin and the visored mech murmured.
“Sorry Magnus. You gotta rest, and that means keeping quiet and not getting worked up. Doctor's orders. I know you got questions, so I'll give you a quick run down of exactly why I'm up here in a moment, and you can ask stuff after I'm done, alright?”
He nodded. His processors were still too uncoordinated to carry out any sort of meaningful conversation anyway.
. . .
“Look, there's nothing for it, we have to let his spark start relearning to regulate itself or he'll be hooked up to those machines for the rest of his life!”
“His injuries! His spark's not strong enough to handle that kind of stress!”
“He's not getting stronger because the machines are doing all the work for him!”
“Harmonising the regulators to specific frequencies is a delicate procedure. If he crashes, it will take time to get the equipment to the correct settings. It will put too much additional strain on his systems for me to approve of using them as a stopgap measure.”
“We have to try. One cycle.”
“One cycle, and then he either functions on his own or stays on the regulators for as long as it takes.”
. . .
“He's crashing! Get those cables in place!”
“We can't fire another pulse at him, his spark won't stand the shock!”
“What are you doing?! Get away!”
“Don't! He... It's helping, whatever he's doing, it's helping. The Magnus is stabilising.”
“... Alright. That one can stay, but the rest of you, out!”
. . .
Ultra Magnus stared. Jazz tilted his helm and shrugged, smiling faintly.
“Manipulation of spark energy is one of the basic principles of Circuit Su. It's easier for me to sync my field with yours to keep your spark stable if I'm in contact with you. Good thing I was on guard duty that cycle, huh?”
Abruptly, the Magnus remembered that the white mech who served as the Steelhaven's primary navigator and pilot was also a fully trained Cyberninja. It was stunningly (and shamefully) easy to forget, especially since most usually saw the mech at the helm of a ship or standing to attention outside a doorway or beside the Autobot Commander.
He had a feeling Jazz liked it that way. All the better to be underestimated, my dear (and he had to be drugged if his processor was supplying such odd commentary).
“And you're coming off the sedatives the medics had you on to keep you resting." Hah, he knew it! Not being able to read minds, the cyberninja continued without skipping a beat. "They want to wean you off my charming presence slowly and that's easier done with you able to consciously keep track of your spark.”
“When... I... recharge?” His vocaliser worked slowly, almost painfully, but the white mech was patient, waiting for him to finish.
“I stay put up here. Better safe than sorry.”
Ultra Magnus nodded, then inhaled sharply as his chest suddenly burned, shuddering as error messages started popping up in his HUD. Why wasn't Jazz helping him? Wasn't that what he had said he was there to do? White hands gripped his shoulders tightly and dimly, he registered Jazz's voice in his audio, low and urgent.
“Sir, regulate your spark, you gotta figure out how to do this, c'mon!”
He tried, narrowing his focus down to the spasming light within his chest. Gasping as it refused to calm down, he started when a gentle wash of energy rolled across him and the humming started up again. Looking up, he saw that Jazz's visor was dim, the mech's helm bowed as if in concentration as he hummed. It wasn't enough, his spark was still bucking like a wild thing. A low groan escaped him as he redoubled his efforts, trying to will his recalcitrant spark into beating in time with the white mech's own spark field.
Finally, he felt his systems ease, the pounding in his chest settling into a steady, even thrum, blending with the soothing note issuing from Jazz's vocaliser. Head dropping back onto the berth, he sighed, already feeling defeated.
“... Bad...”
“Nah, s'just a mild one.” Jazz had settled back down on his chest again, murmuring as he resumed his study of his datapad.
“Mi-ld?” He blinked at the ceiling, and the ninja gave him a quiet chuckle, reading his stunned silence perfectly.
“It just feels worse 'cos it's the first one you were working to control on your own. If you'd been in any real trouble, I'd have taken over and pulled you out. Go on and recharge. You need your rest.”
The larger mech offlined his optics and just tried to recover, listening to the gentle purr emanating from somewhere atop his frame.
= = =
Megatron woke on a medical berth, surrounded by soft beeps and humming equipment. Restraints held him down, immobilising his servos. Sensing someone nearby, he turned his head and saw a black and white mech sitting beside him. A blue visor tilted at him nonchalantly, as if he were just another bot, perhap waiting in line for a transport shuttle.
“You're awake then.”
He glared, as ineffectual it it might have been with all the restraints on him. “What are you doing here?”
He got a smile in return. “Well, I'm here to kill you.”
The straightforward manner in which this was said stunned the Decepticon leader for a moment. Recovering, he growled.
“How direct. Not going to prevaricate and dissemble over dirty deeds like the rest of your faction?”
“Mm, neither you nor I are leaving this room with you alive, and I don't like you enough to be considerate of your tender feelings. So it doesn't matter.”
The mech's shrug infuriated him for some reason, and he snarled.
“Revenge and a personal vendetta, Autobot? Isn't that against the bleatings of your faction?”
His words rolled off the Guardsmech's back like so much white noise. “Considering that I'm here on orders to take care of the problem properly before we end up in the same situation as before... It's nothing new, really.”
“So, the cowards on the council send their little lapdog to do their dirty work.”
“You know, I would have thought you'd rather go in private, instead of on display, made a spectacle of before the whole of Cybertron. Because you are gonna die. No one expects any different. I dare say if the Council tried, there'd be a revolt.”
“This is the Autobot version of mercy, I presume.”
“It's more than you ever gave any of us.” The visored mech's calm smile didn't waver, and Megatron found himself lashing out, grasping for any possible chink in the ninja's armour.
“So, how will you do the deed? Slit my energon lines? Crush my sparkchamber with your bare hands? Or perhaps you'll use that processor over matter of yours. Yes, I do know about your little cyberninja tricks. I don't forget when a whole base gets wiped out in their recharge.”
“Mm, I'll admit it, that shoot on sight order you gave your troops made things a little trickier for me. But I managed.”
“Someone will find this suspicious. The Decepticon warleader suddenly dying in Autobot custody. Some bleeding spark amongst your number will martyr me.”
The visored mech chuckled.
“Oh, that's taken care of.”
“... What did you do?”
“Another little cyberninja trick. An energy pulse in the right spot, and you collapsed while being transferred you into Elite Guard custody. Official diagnosis, a weakened spark caused by stellar cycles of neglect and poor repair while on a certain little organic mudball.” The smiling mech gestured to the medical equipment. “Why do you think you're hooked up to all this slag?”
“You were there. They will suspect you.”
His executioner only smirked, leaning on bi-coloured knees to reply. “I appreciate the concern, but I'm not the only cyberninja in this place, Megatron. I'm just the most visible. I was nowhere near you when you collapsed.”
He was silent in the face of this information, and the Elite mech rose, brushing a hand over his chest in a mocking parody of a loving caress.
“Now, to answer your question. I'd hate to see you off unsatisfied, after all. Your end comes courtesy of another trick, one I learnt while on Earth.”
Another hum started up, subtly differing from that of the equipment surrounding him. Gasping as his spark seized, Megatron caught the intent look on the other mech's face.
“You know how we kept your Omega clones from destroying Detroit? Yeah, something like that, only I'm gonna be using it on your spark, not my own.”
“You-!” The grey mech groaned, his spark flaring wildly as something reached inside him and twisted/compressed/tore, helm falling back on the berth with gritted denta as the ninja broke off the hum to continue talking.
“The SOP calls for spark failure, but I'm deviating especially for you. Call it blasphemy, call it heresy, but a good mech sacrificed his life to restore the AllSpark, and I don't want yours getting in the mix and contaminating it.”
“You would deny me the afterlife?”
“Yup.”
“Vicious, Autobot. You could have been one of mine.” Megatron sneered, fighting to the end, clawing out each moment of life from the black and white mech's hold. He did not expect the easy, accepting shrug from the cyberninja.
“You know how it is, staring into the abyss and all that.”
“You have no honour. If I were to face you on the battlefield...”
“Megatron. I'm a ninja. If anyone paused to think about it long enough, they'd realise my skill set is hardly typical of your average soldier. My work for the 'Bots usually isn't 'honourable'.”
“My, what would your precious Earth team say if they found out?” He laughed mockingly, and the ninja chuckled softly in concert.
“They won't.”
“You're so sure.”
“Mmhm. Because you're here, about to die, put down like a glitching drone, and absolutely helpless to prevent it. The mighty Megatron, feared Decepticon leader, laid low by a touch to his frame and medical restraints. You haven't even tried to break free. Given up already? And you caused us so much bother. How pathetic.”
He roared, tearing free of the berth as alarms shrilled, only to drop to his knees before the victorious smirk on the white mech's face, collapsing on his side as pain rocked through his chest, belatedly realising how his bonds had seemed to loosen before he'd lunged.
“Ah, you tried to escape, not realising that the machines were keeping your spark online. Such a pity the medical staff will get here too late to revive you. And no one will paint a mech who made such a 'mistake' as a martyr.”
A hum lashed out at him, tugging agonisingly as a light glittered before his optics. The ninja sauntered over, crouching down to cup his hand about the spark shard.
“Don't look so worried. I've got a nice box for you. Plush digs and all. You'll be comfortable, at least.”
White fingers plucked the shard out of thin air, and then everything went black.
= = =
The waking world returned through a soft, contented haze. Stretching out languidly in her warm berth, the slowly onlining femme blinked as a weight registered on her chassis. Looking down at the white arm slung over her midsection, she followed the limb up to find a shoulder and a blue visor glowing in amusement over a fond grin. She shook her head, smiling back, then snuggled closer.
“Thought you would have left before I woke.”
Her berthmate chuckled. “M'not quite that uncouth, femme.”
“Mm, uncouth's the last word I'd use to describe you, but didn't you have a briefing or something to report to?”
“They postponed it. For some reason, all the rooms in this zone are glitching, no one can open the doors.” A wicked smirk and she laughed, smacking a white chest lightly.
“How convenient. Well, I'm not complaining, this is nice. You didn't have to stay though.”
“I thought I should. It'd be poor thanks for your help to just slip out in the middle of your recharge cycle, not to mention just plain rude.”
“It's nothing any of the Guard wouldn't do for one of their own. Jazz.”
“Mm?”
“Don't wait this long again. Find one of us, anyone. Better yet, talk to the Magnus, get reassigned somewhere. You can't keep this up forever.”
She waited for his acknowledging nod before pointing to the door.
“Now, go fix what you did.”
“Yes'm!”
She swatted at the cyberninja, laughing at his playful salute. Grinning, the white mech rose from her berth and made for the door, glancing back over his shoulder and smiling warmly at her. She watched as that warmth faded, replaced by the easy-going Guardsmech.
“Perfect, not a crack.”
A knowing flicker of a visor, one she met with a suddenly weary smile, and the mech was out the door as through the base, violent swearing echoed off the corridors when doors suddenly unjammed, unleashing the aggravation of the bots previously trapped behind them.
= = =
“Hey there, hero.”
“Ow.”
He blinked awake and immediately regretted it. Pain slammed into his processors, and he cringed away from the light futilely. Someone squeezed his shoulder gently, chuckling softly.
“Hold still, the medics will be by shortly to see if your processors got damaged, well, damaged more, according to Ratchet.”
“Jazz?” He bolted upright, or would have, if the cyberninja hadn't kept a firm hold on his shoulder.
“The one and only. Stay down, you don't wanna jostle a head injury. Trust me on this one.”
“Where have you been?! We haven't heard from you in ages!” His optics were bright with his outrage, and the white mech smiled ruefully at him.
“I know, I know. Guard business, 'Bee. Can't tell you more than that.”
“Why didn't you let us know you were going to be gone? I mean, we saw Sentinel around, so I thought you were just avoiding us. Why didn't he go as well?”
“Not allowed to talk about this mission with anyone not involved. And the Guards go when and where they're told, 'Bee. I'm not always on the same team as Sentinel. Half the time, I'm working alone.”
“... That sucks.” Bumblebee observed eloquently, and Jazz shrugged.
“It's the way things are with us.”
“So they can just order you off and you have to go?”
“Pretty much, yes. We're on call all the time, it's why most of the combat rated Guard live on base. This is the first time I've been back in nearly a decacycle. On the other hand, the list of bots that I am completely unable to refuse is really short. Now, why did you go and nearly get killed in basic training of all places?”
He accepted the raised optic ridge and mildly scolding tone with good grace, dropping his head back (carefully!) against the berth.
“... I want to join the Elite Guard. Prowl gave up everything to buy us a second chance, I don't want to waste it by being average. And I got a lot to make up for, since I got kicked out the first time 'round.”
Jazz sighed, letting go of his shoulder to pat it gently. “I know you're pushing yourself to be the best, and I can tell you Prowl would be proud of your efforts, but you gotta be alive to get in the Guard. So pace yourself, alright? Being reckless about things won't help.”
“... I dunno if it's worth it. No team, no time for friends... I get that it's not your fault, but I don't know if I can stand it.”
“You gotta decide that for yourself, 'Bee. I will say this though, get good enough, and you get to pick your own assignments. Barring any overriding orders of course, and even then only the Magnus can give those. And Ultra Magnus likes your team, so...”
The visored mech smiled, and Bumblebee grinned back.
“Heh, alright, I see where you're going. It's taking so long though.”
“Patience is a virtue, is it not?”
“Now you sound like Prowl.” He groaned, then fell silent abruptly, flinching when Jazz patted his shoulder again, quietly understanding.
“Mech had a good head on his shoulders. Now, I gotta report in, so you stay put and don't give the medics a processor ache, okay? They've worked hard enough for one cycle.”
He watched as the mech stood up to leave, optics landing on the patchwork of welds littering the Guardsmech's side. Jazz noticed the direction of his gaze, and murmured softly.
“Still want to be one of us, 'Bee? It's not an easy life, nor is it a particularly safe one.”
Bumblebee met the mech's visor, expression burning with determination.
“More than ever. Someone's gotta be out there watching your back.”
The white ninjabot chuckled, nodding.
“Alright. Then I guess I'll be seeing you.”
He smirked. “You bet you will.”
= = =
“Jazz?”
His sleepy murmur was met by a faint smile. “Yeah OP?”
“What are you doing?” Optimus tried to sit up straight, and found himself neatly wrapped in a blanket. Blinking at Jazz, the ninja only shrugged at him unrepentantly.
“Tucking you in, since you seem to have decided that you're gonna live in your office from now on.”
“I didn't mean to fall asleep, there was just so much to do...”
“Easy, Optimus. You can't do it all alone.”
“There's no one else to do it, Jazz. I'm responsible for my team, for as long as they remain my team. We're all going our separate ways and everyone wants reports on my mechs...”
“Everyone can wait. You haven't gotten any rest since we got back from Earth. Don't make me nap-tap you.”
“You can do that?” He stared, and the white mech tilted his helm at him, arms folded across his front, chuckling softly.
“Are you questioning my physical ability or my legal one? 'Cos I assure you, as a cyberninja and an Elite Guard, I've got both. And I've got Ratchet's backing too.”
Blinking, Optimus laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “... I'll go quietly, officer.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Jazz steered him out of the room and towards the living quarters.
“Good mech.”
“Jazz?”
“Yeah?”
“Where did you get the teddy bear?”
“Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies, OP.”
= = =
And the one time they didn't...
The room was quiet, its occupants both mechs who weren't given to pointless, purposeless chatter. Finally, one broke the silence, murmuring softly.
“We're doing well. The Earth's gonna be looked after, the Council are gonna set up an outpost there, with regular patrols and all. Optimus is heading it. The mech refused a spot on the Guard, said it'd take him from where he was needed. They gave him Elite status anyway, on reserve, so he's got that ace in the hole to pull if he ever needs more clout. Not that he should, not in the foreseeable future anyway. He's got a good bunch with him, all hand picked by the Magnus. Ratchet, Arcee and Omega will be there too.”
“As for the others... Bulkhead's doing great things with transwarp tech. Perceptor and Wheeljack are this close to adopting him as their own. And Bumblebee... heh, would you believe it? He's gone back to the Academy, wants to graduate proper and get into the Guard. They have him on an accelerated course, given his experience level. I think he'll make it. Don't tell him that OP's already got a spot though. I think he'd spontaneously combust trying to get in the Guard yesterday.”
The white mech shook his head, smiling, then continued.
“Sari's fine, she calls all of us when she can. Her dad's got a new project cooking in his lab. We got together and programmed something for them. It'll remind him to refuel, get some fresh air and father-daughter time at regular intervals. She says that Detroit's putting up something in your honour. I know you aren't much for fancy accolades, but I think you'll like what they're doing. They're planting a tree in that park of yours. It'll grow strong and tall, and give shelter to everyone under it.”
A sigh.
“I'm sorry I haven't visited 'til now. Yeah, I know it's illogical to be talking to a mech who won't ever wake up, and if you could you'd tell me that this frame is no more you than the berth it's parked on. But it was you, and that's as good as I'm gonna get now, I guess. There's a lot I wish we could've shared. We were just getting to be friends, and Earth's a place that really grows on you. I was thinking of resigning from the Guard to join your team on Earth. Official-like. Not just stealing a trip through a transwarp gate on the pretext of orders.”
“Well, no need for that now. I hope you don't mind that I won't be able to come by any time soon. Ultra Magnus has me stationed permanently with Optimus. I'll be keeping an optic on him and the rest of your team, so rest easy, okay?”
A white hand reached out, fingertips resting lightly on a grey arm.
“And I'll see you on the other side someday. G'bye Prowl.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 05:28 am (UTC)*sittin' over here on the denial couch (with ninja) kthx*
I still loved this very much though :3 *nuzz* <3
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 05:51 am (UTC)*(other ninja joins ninja on couch, also snuggles)*
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 05:49 am (UTC)Prowl should have woken up to Jazz too. *sniff* It's not fair!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 05:59 am (UTC)Mm, that's what fanfic is for, no?
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 06:10 am (UTC)*nods*
... ... ... *cries*
reCaptcha: gronsi appeared
...wut?
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 01:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 06:06 am (UTC)and holy shit! that section with Megatron was amazing! there was so much said there and it kind of punched me in the stomach. (in a good way!)
this was great, hon!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 06:10 am (UTC)Glad you like :3
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 06:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 01:24 pm (UTC)*steals internet time*
Date: 2010-09-30 09:32 am (UTC)^_^
Date: 2010-09-30 10:00 am (UTC)Re: ^_^
Date: 2010-09-30 12:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 01:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 10:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 01:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 12:08 pm (UTC)===
Hot damn! Go, Jazz!
===
:snerk:
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Pffftttt! XD
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Bwahahaha! Now I wanna know what'd he say, especially if it was a lie!
===
WAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!
====
And that was my morning before coffee. ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 01:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 01:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 01:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 03:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 04:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-30 04:29 pm (UTC)Awww this was just... *cries* Prooooooooowl come baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!! T.T
(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-01 01:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-01 01:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-01 02:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-01 10:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-02 01:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-11 04:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-12 01:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-15 04:29 am (UTC)Made me laugh and be sad. Nice work. Woulda loved to see that sleep tap :P
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-15 06:56 am (UTC)