Archive of Our Own ^beta

Time had come to have little meaning aboard the small, nameless ship that made its way through the void of space. The shipping lane it navigated had fallen out of use mille-vorns before, and there wasn't much need for the pilot even during the day cycle. Jazz still took his regular duty-cycle. He'd been too accustomed to that over the long, long years of war to drop the habit now. Prowl would have worked a shift as well, but he was still not back to full strength after the attack on the shuttle that had nearly extinguished his spark and Jazz insisted on handling things for him. Right now, though, it was the night cycle, and no tasks awaited anyone aboard the little ship. They could relax and just…just be together, loving and talking. It should have felt like a vacation. It didn't. There were things Jazz just couldn't get off his mind no matter how hard he tried.

"Does it ever bother you?" Jazz asked, drawing lazy patterns of notes, human-style and Cybertronian glyphs combined, on Prowl's armour with his fingertips as they lay on the bed together.

Prowl stretched against him, tucked himself back against Jazz's side as he relaxed. "Does what bother me, love?"

"That we used to be joint seconds-in-command of the Autobots and now we're travelling around scavenging old Cybertronian vessels in a ship that ain't even got a name." Jazz made a low buzzing sound of annoyance. "Had to practically beg Rodimus even for that."

"Rodimus is young, unsure," Prowl pointed out. "Resources and materiel weren't exactly Hot Rod's specialty, and he had no one to teach him how to tap into the Matrix for wisdom. He means well, he only needs guidance."

"Yeah. Yeah, and we should've been the ones to give it to him. Sure, he's got Magnus, but other than that he replaced the command staff with his pals and they tell him what he wants to hear. And you." Jazz tightened his arms around Prowl, doing his best to assure himself his lover was really there. "You were the Autobot's head tactician for millions of years. You were the architect of the war, Prowl, and the kid wouldn't prioritize your repairs! How're fancy parties for aliens and tech that half the time don't even work right more important than you?"

"Cybertron's galactic reputation is a very poor one," Prowl pointed out, petting Jazz soothingly. "Diplomacy is necessary to rebuild it, and energy is necessary to restore Cybertron. Especially since our currency is energon-based and many things we need must be purchased or traded for on the galactic market."

"Yeah," Jazz sighed. "You don't gotta tell me, lover. I'm the one spent the past couple years in competitive racing to afford the parts that what passes for Autobot Command these days wouldn't requisition or order constructed for you, and First Aid couldn't build for me on the sly." Jazz suppressed the memory of Prowl's burnt out optics after the attack on the shuttle that had set off the Battle of Autobot City. "Some thanks. Optimus would've – " he broke off.

"Shh, love," Prowl said gently, knowing exactly where Jazz's thoughts had gone. Prowl pushed himself upright, leaned over Jazz and pressed their forehelms together. "It's done. I'm here, I'm alive, I'm well. We're together."

"I know. I know." Jazz sighed. "But I feel like we're in the wrong place. Doing the wrong thing."

"I will get us back where we need to be," Prowl promised. "Merely continue to trust me."

Prowl had become…softer since he'd woken from stasis. Didn't matter; Jazz loved him anyway, loved him no matter what.

"I do trust you, Prowl," Jazz answered. "I trust you, and I love you."

Prowl smiled. "I know." He stroked the seam of Jazz's chest plates. "Show me?"

"You up to it, babe?" Jazz asked. Prowl's spark was supposedly stable and just needed to regain mass, but Jazz was still on edge when it came to actual merges.

"Yes." Prowl's chest plates began to slide open. The light of his spark was still less vibrant than Jazz remembered, but he thought it might be improving. "I monitor myself carefully, and I follow First Aid's instructions down to the glyph. Down to the glyph markers. I am in no danger." He stroked Jazz's face affectionately. "I won't leave you, my love. Please?"

Jazz unlocked his chest plates and settled his hands upon Prowl's hips. "Never could say no to you, sweetspark." Prowl's weight came down on him, their spark's coronas reaching for each other. "Never wanted to. Mmm!" Jazz arched his back, pushing up into the merge. "Prowl!"

"Jazz." Prowl kissed him. "I'm here. I'm here."

The merge was shallow, a ghost of the ones they'd used to have, but that was alright. Jazz didn't need the deep, swelling-background-music, light-up-the-room merges from the romances. All he needed was Prowl.

Jazz woke up when their ship pinged him with an alert; they'd reached their destination. Prowl still slept beside him, needing more recharge than Jazz to let his repairs settle, and Jazz left him to sleep. Jazz could handle the docking with and the opening of the derelict ship that was their next salvage target. Prowl needed his rest.

Jazz was inside the ship and exploring before Prowl was up and on comms with him. The vessel was a generic cargo hauler, didn't have a name, that'd gotten abandoned after a battle over some planet or other. Jazz hadn't bothered to learn the names of the conflict or the planet. He hadn't even bothered to find out whether it was an Autobot or a Decepticon ship. Not that it really mattered right now. Not much did anymore.

But at least one thing still mattered, and they were comming him right now. 'Good morning, love.'

The derelict ship's artificial gravity was off. Floating, Jazz smiled at the sound of his lover's voice. 'Good morning, Prowler. Got directions for me? Anything good on the manifest?'

'I am unsure how you would define 'good' on a standard cargo manifest. This ship did not contain anything out of the ordinary. I recommend heading for the cargo bays as usual.'

'Sounds good to me.'

Jazz headed to the cargo bay, pulled himself through the hatch and did a quick scan for hostiles. No lifeforms but it seemed like there was plenty of junk floating around. He brought his headlights up to half power and took a cautious look around.

'Uh, Prowl?'

'Yes, Jazz? Did you find someone?'

'Nope – 'least, not the way you're thinking.' Jazz turned slowly, aware the wrong move in microgravity could send him spinning out of control. 'Prowl, was this ship carrying structure replacement parts?"

'Not according to the manifest. Why?'

Jazz tipped his head back, looking up, up through the floating objects to the high ceiling. ''Cause I got a whole room full of severed body parts here, and no energon floating around. How long's this ship been out here?' Energon tended to be volatile if not contained, less so when it was from a mech's lines. If the ship had been out here long enough, though, even processed energon could've evaporated or detonated if it were outside of a Cybertronian.

Prowl was thinking the same thing. 'Not long enough.'

'Great.'

'The manifest could have been incorrect for many reasons,' Prowl pointed out.

'Yeah, or there could be a creepier reason for it.' And that creepier reason could still be on board. Jazz did a quick double-check of his weapons. Maybe he didn't run ops anymore, but he wasn't going to go into an unknown place unarmed.

Prowl didn't say anything for a moment, but Jazz knew exactly what look he had on his face. 'Jazz, did you play that space zombie game before coming out here? I told you not to.'

'Hey, I didn't know we were gonna find Dead Space out here for real!'

'You still don't,' Prowl pointed out drily. 'You haven't ruled out demons. It could be Doom.'

Prowl was teasing him and giving him human pop culture references. Jazz managed to feel indignant and admiring towards his lover at the same time.

'I'm annoyed you're not helping, but I also wanna kiss you for the Doom shoutout. How's that work?'

'It's been working very well for us so far.'

Jazz smiled fondly. 'Yeah, true. I'm gonna keep going, see if I can find anything else.'

'Keep the comm line open, please. I don't like the idea of you out there with no lifeline.'

'Yeah, me neither.' Jazz thought about asking Prowl if he could remotely connect with the ship and power on the gravity plating, then looked up again and reconsidered. Being caught in a rain of body parts wasn't his idea of a good time, and who knew what else was floating around? Jazz would just have to proceed carefully through the ship. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't play a little bit. A spin, a somersault, and – oops, the wall was closer than he'd thought. Least there was no one to see.

'Was that you hitting the wall?'

Damn, open comm line. 'Umm, no…?'

Prowl laughed, the same laugh Jazz had loved for thousands of vorn. 'Very well, darling. So long as you're enjoying yourself.'

'Enjoy it more if you were here with me.'

'Soon,' Prowl promised. 'We'll be able to do everything together again soon.'

'Looking forward to it, babe.'

Jazz floated through the ship, Prowl a silent presence on comms, carefully checking every room. He saw a whole lot of evidence of crew, but no sign of the crew themselves. Well, not unless that was what he'd seen in the cargo bay.

'This place is weird, Prowler,' Jazz commented after he'd checked the third empty room. 'I can tell something happened, but it's like – I dunno. Like someone tried to clean up a little bit before the gravity went off.'

'A survivor, perhaps?'

'Or someone trying to tidy up a crime scene,' Jazz countered. 'Man, I tell you, this place is giving me bad vibes.'

'Do you wish to return?'

'Getting lonely out there?'

'I miss you very much, Jazz.'

Warmth spread through Jazz, still floating in the heat-less halls of the derelict ship. 'Miss you too, babe. I'll be back soon, though.'

'I hope so. I want to see you again. Do you know what you're looking for over there?'

'I'll know it when I see it.'

Jazz floated on through the ship, heading toward the bridge. The gravity was off, and the atmosphere was stale but intact. The scanners had shown that the vessel was empty, no life signs, and everything Jazz was seeing bore that out. He definitely did not expect to see, out of the corner of his optic, was the shadow of someone running.

In an empty ship. With no gravity.

Jazz jerked in surprise, sending himself spinning briefly out of control.

Jazz's sensory input was processed with an incredibly high degree of fidelity. It had been designed to let him provide bigger and more impressive sound-and-light shows but was really useful in helping to tell reality from otherwise. Mirage's electro-disruptor was the only thing that had ever successfully fooled it a hundred percent of the time, something Jazz had never told anyone. Whatever that was, it was both really in motion and not really there at the same time. It was an unknown, and that made it dangerous. If it was dangerous to Jazz, it was equally so to Prowl, and that meant it had to die.

Jazz followed it.

'Jazz? Where are you going? I thought you were headed to the bridge.'

'Saw something,' was Jazz's short response. 'Gotta check it out.'

'You should head to the bridge. Then you can come back.'

'I'll get to the bridge,' Jazz promised. 'Gotta check it out. Might be a threat.'

'There's no threat, love,' Prowl tried. 'Please. Let it be.'

'Can't. Don't worry, Prowler, I'll be careful. Just gotta go deeper in.'

'Jazz…'

'Won't be long, lover. Don't worry.'

Jazz was careful to use a light touch on the walls to guide himself and cut down on the noise. The hallway he'd seen the shadow go down was short and ended in a dead end. A doorway led off either side, lending anyone entering or leaving a small measure of privacy – officer's quarters, Jazz guessed. One lock was partly melted – whoever or whatever it was hadn't gone in there. The other one was unlocked. Jazz 'spaced his photon gun and entered cautiously. The room was dark, natch, and he switched to night-vision.

The room made him uneasy. He couldn't quite put his finger on why. It wasn't that there was a potential threat in there, he'd been in tonnes of rooms with potential and actual threats. It was something else. Something familiar, but he couldn't pin it down. Frowning, he scoured the room, from the entryway down to the corners of the storage cupboards and didn't find anyone.

'Prowl?'

'Yes, Jazz?'

'Didn't find anyone in here but I know they didn't get past me. Can you give me a scan of the ship and look for hidden passageways, trap doors, that sort of thing?'

'One moment.' There was a pause. Jazz was tense but couldn't read Prowl's emotional state over the comm. 'Jazz, the scanners on this ship aren't strong enough to scan that deeply. Go to the bridge, perhaps you can bring the internal scanners online or find a schematic.'

'Yeah, okay.' Jazz didn't like leaving the room without knowing where whoever – or whatever – he had seen had gone, but there wasn't much choice. Nothing was here.

At the door of the room, he paused, frowning at a small imperfection in the paint of the wall. There'd been a mark like this in the wall near the door of the quarters he'd shared with Prowl back when they'd been headquartered at Autobase Iacon. Come to think of it, the layout of the room was pretty similar to their quarters on the Ark…

But that was easily explained by this having been an Autobot ship and using a standard layout. Nothing weirder than standardization.

Jazz went through the ship as fast as he could and still be thorough, wanting to get done with exploring and get back to Prowl but at the same time not miss anything or anyone. Nothing showed up on sensors, visual or otherwise, but Jazz had the creepy feeling of being watched the whole way to the bridge. He kept trying to map the layout of the ship to that of Far Cry, an Autobot vessel he'd served on before he'd met Prowl, but that had to be a coincidence. Probably the same make and different models of ship, that was all. Hell, he hadn't even thought of Far Cry in mille-vorns, even though it had been his first Spec Ops posting.

'Prowler, you sure you're not picking up anyone else living on board this thing?' Jazz asked. 'I got a feeling like I ain't alone.'

'But you are alone in there, Jazz.'

'Yeah, well…maybe it's my ghosts catching up to me, huh?' Jazz had meant it to be a joke, but it fell flat.

'Ghosts only exist in your mind, love.'

'Yeah. Good thing for me, huh?'

'And me.'

Yeah, Prowl might not have slit as many lines in person the way Jazz had, but he'd given the orders that'd led to a lot of deaths. Jazz knew Prowl didn't take those deaths lightly, whether they were Autobot, Decepticon, Neutral, human, or whoever else had gotten caught in Cybertronian crossfire.

Jazz was almost to the bridge when he caught a glimpse of the shadow-shape out of the corner of his optic again. He swore to himself and shoved off the nearest surface as hard as he could, made a quick maneuver to follow it around a corner and found himself in front of a door again. He opened the door fast as he could and swore again at the somehow-empty room. The somehow empty and yet familiar room.

Jazz searched his memory for rooms with a similar layout and, when it came, froze. Of course, he knew this place. This wasn't any lingering familiarity, this couldn't be explained by makes and models or standardized layouts and furniture. This was the command centre for the old Spec Ops HQ at Autobase Iacon, stripped for parts by Shockwave's drones after the Ark's launch. This room was specialized, unique, filled with specialized equipment and way, way more personalized than a standard command centre.

'Jazz?'

'Sending you my visual feed, Prowl,' Jazz said, clipped and precise. His 'on-mission' voice. 'Tell me you see this.'

There were a long few nano-kliks of silence, and then Prowl came back with, 'I see a room, Jazz, what specifically do you want me to look at?'

What? 'Prowl, don't joke around.'

'Jazz, I'm not. It's a command centre, likely used to plan and coordinate ship operations.'

'No – no, Prowl, it's the Spec Ops HQ. The one we had at Autobase Iacon, the one I worked out of right up until the Ark launched.'

'You know it can't be, Jazz,' Prowl said gently. 'Think about it. How could that room be on a spaceship way out here? Look again, please.'

Jazz looked. Maybe – maybe the shadows had given him the wrong idea? Was he that creeped out by the ship that he was seeing things? The room almost seemed to shimmer as he looked at it, and he pulled himself away.

'I don’t – I don't know, Prowler. I mean, you're right, but I could've sworn…'

'The bridge, my love. Just get to the bridge. You can come back once you've checked the bridge.'

'Right…okay…but…'

Prowl's voice was still gentle, calm, grounding. 'Trust me, Jazz. Trust me and get to the bridge.'

'Prowler…'

'Please, Jazz. The bridge.'

Jazz pushed off the room's doorway, reluctantly heading to the bridge. 'Yeah, I'm going, but Prowler, it ain't just that. The parts I found in the cargo bay? Remembered where I saw something like that before. Remember the 'Con warship the DJD took down 'cause they said it was full of traitors?'

'We had the intel on it but had to let the massacre happen to save one of our supply fleets. I haven't forgotten.'

'Yeah, well…what I saw in the cargo bay on this ship looked a lot like what I saw on that one.'  Jazz drew in on himself a little. 'Spent a long time haunted by that, Prowler. Thought I'd managed to get a handle on it.'

'Some things never really leave us,' Prowl murmured. 'I understand.'

Yeah, if anyone did it'd be Prowl. They both knew what woke the other one up in the middle of the night. Jazz would do what needed to be done, things Optimus Prime would never have approved of, things that were at times creative interpretations of his orders. It didn't mean it didn't affect him.

Jazz made his way to the bridge. It seemed too big for the ship he'd just floated his way through, almost (exactly?) the size of the bridge of the Ark but Jazz ignored that. At least he knew the layout. Unlike the rest of the ship, the bridge had gravity, which was weird. Still, Jazz made his way over to the internal sensors and used his own power to bring them online. He ran a thorough scan, frowned, and reran it. No life signs. Prowl was right, he was alone on the ship.

Prowl…

Jazz's second scan had been broader, including the exterior of the ship in case the who/whatever it was had somehow made it through an airlock to cling to the hull. It had picked up his and Prowl's little ship. It had not picked up Prowl. Prowl never left their ship.

'Prowl?' Jazz asked slowly. 'Where are you?'

Prowl couldn't run cloaked, and their ship didn't have anything that'd hide the crew. Jazz tried to think of a rational explanation for it. He'd been talking to Prowl all day, seen him yesterday, shared sparks with him last night for Primus' sake! It hadn't been as strong as the spark merges they'd shared before Prowl'd been so severely damaged in the shuttle incident, but that made sense, didn't it? Prowl was still recovering from that, wasn't he?

'Prowl?'

'I'm right here, love. I haven't left you.'

'But…'

"Jazz."

Jazz spun, energon dagger at the ready even though he knew the voice. Recognition came to him a half-nano-klik after the conditioned response but pulled him up short before he could attack.

"Scanners showed you weren't on either ship, mech," Jazz said warily, not subspacing the dagger again even though he was looking at Prowl.

"I know, but that's not important right now," Prowl said calmly.

Jazz watched him carefully. "Yeah? Then what is?"

Prowl's body language was neutral, but he was looking at Jazz with affection and – and longing? They'd just seen each other last night. Hadn't they? Prowl was looking like he hadn't seen or spoken to Jazz in years.

"What's important is that you made it to the bridge. Now you can come with me," Prowl told him. "Put the dagger away Jazz, you don't need it."

"See, you say that, but this ship and now you appearing when scans say you aren't there is freaking me out. I think I wanna keep the dagger. Makes me feel secure and all that." Jazz analyzed escape routes as he spoke, but the only place he could go was back through the door. The one Prowl was standing in front of. There was a lot of things Jazz could do, would do, and had done but harming Prowl had never ever been on the list.

Prowl simply nodded. "All right, then, if it helps."

"It does. You gonna tell me what's going on?" Jazz kept his distance, trying not to make it look like he was trying to edge around Prowl to get to the door.

"I already did. Remember? 'Head to the bridge. Then you can come back.' " Prowl held out his hand, palm up in invitation. "Trust me, Jazz."

Jazz hesitated. "The scanners…?"

"It's an old ship. The scanners must have malfunctioned. I'm sure many systems on this ship are breaking or have broken down."

Made sense. Would explain why the bridge had gravity when the rest of the ship didn't. "The mission."

"Was always to get back, wasn't it? Take my hand, and we can do that."

Jazz hesitated for a nano-klik more then reached out and took Prowl's hand. He kept the energon dagger ready in the other. "Alright…Took your hand. Now what?"

Prowl bent and kissed Jazz's fingers, very gently, keeping his optics on Jazz's face as long as he could. "Now, my love, we go home." He straightened and tugged Jazz toward the bridge doors. "This way."

The doors opened but they didn't reveal the ship's hallway, and Jazz balked again. There was a weird technicolour fog beyond instead. Jazz didn't know what to make of it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to walk into it.

"It's alright," Prowl insisted, backing into what should have been the hallway. "Jazz. It's safe. You're with me. Look." He crossed the threshold. "It doesn't hurt, it's alright. Trust me."

"Okayyy…" Jazz was still hesitant. He had a feeling, like when you went back to someplace you'd known long ago, and you didn't want to go in and see how it had changed. "Still got my dagger, though."

Prowl smiled. "You won't need it. This way."

The fog had little lights in it, blurry like they were in the distance, and Jazz wondered what they were. Hallway lights, maybe? Were the ship's systems coming back online and the environmental controls going all wonky? He'd seen some freaky malfunctions in his time, but this topped them all.

He walked a little more quickly, getting closer to Prowl. "This doesn't feel like the way back to the ship."

"Tell me what you want," Prowl said instead of answering.

"I want some answers, Prowler."

"No, love," Prowl said patiently. "Tell me what you want, Jazz. Not just here, tell me what you want to happen."

Primus dammit, this was too weird, but if Prowl wanted to know, then Jazz would tell him.

"Fine," Jazz said shortly. "I want to go home. I want to go back to Cybertron and live with you, a completely healed you. I want to merge sparks again, strong like we used to 'cause that's one of the times I'm happiest. I want to not be scavenging old wrecks, and I want to see Optimus and everyone else we lost." Jazz damn near choked on his own bitterness. "That what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes." Prowl brought them to a stop in front of…a door? Maybe a portal. Jazz was kind of reminded of what humans seemed to think that dropping your consciousness into a data stream would look like. They were wrong, mostly, but it did look like that.

"We going through that?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm already there," Prowl said cryptically. "You just need to follow me." He was backing up steadily, drawing Jazz with him. "Please, Jazz?"

Jazz stared over Prowl's shoulder. Dozens of questions ran through his mind, but Prowl was so sure and confident and hadn't Jazz trusted him with his life more times than he could count? Finally, Jazz shrugged.

"What the hell," he said, "it can't be worse than this."

Stepping through the portal was strange, but also strangely familiar. It took a moment then Jazz recognized it as feeling like a kind of data transfer, knew the feel of Prowl being there along with him. At the same time, it felt like surfacing in the Pacific after a mission spent infiltrating the Victory, pressure lessening around him as the light got clearer. For a moment, as he metaphorically got his head above water, he panicked, grabbing for something, anything to hold on to. Then, Prowl was there, smiling tremulously, hand on Jazz's face.

"Prowl?" Jazz tried to say, but his voice was faint and filled with static. There was a feeling like other people were around, but Jazz ignored them as unimportant right now. He put a hand on Prowl's chest and felt, as he hadn't been able to do for so long now, the light vibration that was Prowl's spark-spin, strong and healthy.

"It's me, darling," Prowl promised. "I told you, you just had to get to the bridge to come back to me." He stroked Jazz's cheek. "Don't I always keep my promises to you?"

Prowl. Prowl loved him. Prowl always kept his promises. Prowl's spark was strong and healed and whole. Jazz grasped these truths and held them, not caring for anything else at that moment.

"Yeah," Jazz said, and pulled Prowl into a hug. "Yeah, love, you do. And don't you worry, now that I'm here, I'm never gonna leave you again."