|Lies My Carrier Told Me
Author: dellykins PM
Sometimes we tell lies to the ones we love, because the lies are easier than the truth.Rated: Fiction M - English - Drama/Hurt/Comfort - Soundwave & Jazz - Words: 1,870 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 8 - Follows: 1 - Published: 05-20-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8133326
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: Lies My Carrier Told Me
Verse: G1 AU
Warnings: Mature content. For content specific warnings see the A/N at the end of the story.
Pairings/Characters: Jazz/Soundwave, Jazz/Prowl, Blaster.
Notes: This was based on a dream Chi had. =X
Summary: Sometimes we tell lies to the ones we love, because the lies are easier than the truth.
The Decepticon's brig was always a miserable place to be. It was dark. The cells were cramped, and there was an ever pervading dampness that seemed to seep into Blaster's joints, leaving them aching. For the most part they left Blaster on his own. There was no torture. He was brought energon. And for the most part was unmolested (Skywarp had Russian hands and Roman fingers, but he always respected "no" in the end). He hunched his shoulders as he heard the Decepticon Second in Command ranting just within audial range.
"I don't see why we have to give his brat special treatment. It isn't as if he wants the stupid thing. He just uses it to twist the knife in further. You know how much Soundwave hates Jazz." The screechy voice did not sound so much disgruntled as amused, as if the owner knew Blaster was listening.
Thundercracker's rumbling laugh fell on Blaster's audials and made him shrink into himself, the gears in his head already turning to an uncomfortable conclusion. His creator had always told him he was wanted. That he was loved. He had assumed that his creator and progenitor had once loved each other. That was the impression that his creator gave. Pit, that was the impression his step-sire gave. Blaster had a horrible, sinking feeling his creator had been protecting him this whole time. His spark hurt and, perhaps, if he was not in the brig he would have cried. He didn't though. Jazz had taught him better than that. Suck it up. Finish the mission. Get out alive.
Jazz hung limply from the chains, his joints flared in agony. He whimpered and tried to take some of the weight off of them, balancing on the tips of his peds as best as he could. He had long since lost track of the cycles. It was a moot point, his chronometer was one of the first things Soundwave had offlined. His bond with Prowl was blocked as well. He could not feel his bonded. He hurt. Hurt so much it was unbearable. He bit back a whimper, and tried to make as little sound as possible. Some small part of him hoped that if he was quiet enough Soundwave would forget about him. He detested this weakness of his. Hated the way his spark pained him, and hated Soundwave more for forcing the merges on him.
He heard the familiar ped-falls approaching the cell. He flinched, and offlined his optics. He hoped that this time would be different, that this time it would end. He would end and the pain would stop. Instead he felt the burning presence in his processor of overriding codes that should never be overridden without his consent.
"Please. Please don't do this." He begged. "Please." His voice crackled with static and barely contained emotions. "Please. I'm bonded...please don't..." He whimpered when his spark was revealed, and screamed until he could no more when their energies mingled.
Soundwave only laughed as he pushed Jazz through overload after overload until he offlined and fell into a fitful recharge. He could feel the newspark's first pulse of life as it bloomed into being during the last merge, and the faint hum as it soaked up energy from the recharging mech.
Blaster could only listen to the seekers for so long before he finally tuned them out. He could not take it any longer. He certainly could not take the truth they implied. He did not know what to think or whether to believe what he had heard. He had assumed so many things, but then all around him had allowed him to foster those beliefs. Encouraged them.
Intellectually he could understand. He was a child born of violence. His carrier did not love him any less for it. Surprisingly did not resent him for it. He could not help but love his carrier for it because his sparkling-hood had been filled with that same love.
He was so lost in reminiscing that he did not hear the ped-steps until the mech was standing in front of the cell. He looked up, meeting Soundwave's red visor, and flinched away as he felt the other mech's mind heavy on his own. Probing, invading. He tried to push his sire out of his mind, but the other was stronger. Had always been stronger. He whimpered, static spitting from his vocalizer. "Sire, please. Pleasepleasplease." He chanted it like a mantra until the pressure on his mind was finally lifted.
Soundwave watched him for a long moment. "Blaster: Will make an excellent addition to our cause."
"I won't. You can't make me."
"No...please no." Blaster said, shaking. Fear streaked through him, and down the creation-bond he shared with Jazz.
"Decision: Blaster's." Soundwave said, before turning to leave him.
Blaster watched him go, shaken to his core.
Jazz had spent the longest time in the medbay. He had a little private-room off of the main area. Prowl his only company aside from the medic. Ratchet had been doubtful that it would be wise to carry the spark to term. Jazz had only glared when he had suggested that it might be better for all if it was snuffed out. Jazz glared and became so enraged he could barely contain the anger he felt. Anger with the situation, with Ratchet, and most of all with Soundwave. He leaned into Prowl as he finally spoke, "I am not punishing the sparklet for something it had no control over." The sparklet in question pulsed against his spark, alarmed at the emotion rolling through his carrier. Jazz steeled himself and sent back as much love and comfort as he could muster. "He will be loved. He will be, if nothing else good has come from this situation...well...please do not ask that of me again." Jazz touched his chestplate.
"We will love him." Prowl said with conviction, holding on to his bondmate tightly. They would get past this as they had all of the other obstacles. Together.
Jazz already loved the sparkling developing inside. "He can't ever know." Jazz sighed, and looked up at Ratchet, and looked hard.
Ratchet nodded, looking worried. There was nothing about this situation that was good. "If that is what you wish."
"It is." They said together.
Mirage materialized outside of the cell. "Come along." He said as he took the energon-field down, opening the brig door. "Jazz is providing a distraction and Prowl is monitoring us through the comms, but we don't have much time."
Blaster forced a smile on his faceplates, trying to focus more on the fact Prowl loved him every bit as much as he loved Smokescreen and Bluestreak and less on the fact his carrier was running around the Nemesis, and followed Mirage through the dark halls. Inside his spark clenched painfully. He pushed through the pain, through the worry for Jazz. His creator was always throwing himself in danger's way. Now, he could not help but wonder if his creator really had a death-wish.
Blaster reached through the bond only to find himself firmly pushed away by Jazz and blocked out. He pushed and pushed, but to no avail, he was locked out, and terrified by the implication. "Mirage...something isn't right." He shook, and reached for Soundwave out of desperation. There was only pain and confusion there.
"It will be fine." Mirage said, pulling Blaster along. "You know Jazz."
"He...he's blocked me. Something is wrong, why won't you listen?"
"I was told to get you out regardless of what happens. I promised Jazz." Mirage said patiently.
Pain shot through him, both creation bonds suddenly snapping. "Oh, Primus! No!" He doubled over, clinging to Mirage. "They are dead! They are both dead!" He shouted with barely contained hysteria.
"Then there is nothing more you can do for Jazz." Mirage murmured, pulling the hysterical cassette carrier along.
They were waiting for him once Ratchet finally let him leave the medbay. He had felt numb the entire time he had sat on the medical berth, and waited patiently for Ratchet to finish. He had stumbled out once the medic gave him a clean bill of health. Bluestreak was there, waiting directly outside the medbay doors, looking anxious. He nearly tackled Blaster, and began checking over every inch of him as if he could not believe his brother was really there.
"Oh, Blaster, we were so worried about you, and then Carrier was gone, and you felt so faint in the sibling bond, and we thought we had lost you too. Sire is so upset, and I don't think he could handle another loss. It just hurts so much. I can't believe he is gone. And we thought you were too." Bluestreak clung to him like a barnacle, wrapping his limbs around his brother and holding on tightly.
"Blue..." Smokescreen said from where he had been watching, he moved in closer, touching both of his brothers, "We should get out of the hallway." His optics flicked up to Blaster's faceplates. "Prowl needs us."
Blaster could only nod his assent, no words wanted to leave his vocal processor.
They led him through the hallways, to the rooms his carrier had shared with Prowl. The Praxian would be inconsolable, he knew that in a distant sort of way. The same way he knew his optics had been leaking coolant the entire walk. His half-brothers were not in much better shape as they pulled him through the doorway.
Blaster looked up as he was pulled into the room, and met Prowl's blue gaze. His faceplates were wet as well, coolant still dripping along his chin unheeded. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a little keening sob. His caretaker pulled him into a tight hug, and they held each other for the longest time not saying anything. For once no words were needed.
They all ended up curled together in a pile around Blaster and Prowl, Bluestreak and Smokescreen holding on to their own sire and their half-brother as tightly as they could. Their fields danced together, meshing and sharing what comfort they could.
Blaster felt like his world had fallen to pieces, and nothing was ever going to be the same-or good-ever again.
"He loved you so much." Prowl whispered, his vocal processor crackling with static. "So much. And we love you too." His caretaker whispered, resting his helm against Blaster's.
Warnings: Non-con. Mech-Preg. Torture. Character Death (off scene).