Lo and behold, I'm updating the story. It was finished the 14th by the way, I just wanted to make you all suffer. I do not own Transformers.


Before and After



A sparkling Jazz entered a Cybertronian playground of sorts, his two creators walking him there, "Have fun sweetie! Be sure to make lots of friends!"

"I will Comility!" the little Jazz walked up to three larger young meches, "Hi! My name's Jazz, what's yours?" he gave them a friendly smile; he really wanted to be friends with them.

But they just laughed. The largest one said, "Aww, the baby wants to make friends with the big boys!"

"What a loser." The second one added, sneering.

"What a baby!" the third taunted, almost making little Jazz cry.

"Leave him alone!" a small green and red sparkling, clearly even younger than Jazz spoke up, pointing to the second one, "What do you know you Comility's little bot! And you," she pointed to the third, "Slag-for-circuits, and you," she pointed to the first one, "Mister Still-can't-use-the-waist-extraction-unit-by-himself-yet!"

The three meches moved away, growling slightly. Jazz smiled at the femme, "Thanks, I-I'm Jazz. Will... will you be my friend?"

"Sure; I'm Heart, nice to meet you."

—End Flashback—

Jazz jolted up, his deep recharge cut short. It was only a few hours before he was scheduled to come out of recharge, so moved to his desk. He pulled out his personal log and started writing.

Dear Log,

I had another dream about her, good Primus I miss her so much; why can't I get over her death? I thought she was dead for years, why is it so much more painful now? Should I tell someone about my dreams?


Jazz crawled back into his berth, again falling into restless recharge.


Jazz and Heart became closer than siblings over the years, she spent almost all her time at his garage, it almost seemed to him like she never wanted to go to her own garage, it never made sense to him back then, her Comility had died when her spark was removed, so Jazz's Comility became Heart-Beat's Comility. From Jazz's perspective back then, her Demority seemed to be very loving, but he often heard Heart-Beat praying to Primus, asking him if Jazz's creators could be hers too.

He eventually learned however what a terrible creator he was. Her Demority joined the Decepticon rebels, and Heart got her wish. Jazz's Comility wouldn't let her Demority take her away, and she became part of Jazz's family, Jazz's Comility re-named her Heart-Beat.. Heart-Beat never spoke of him as her Demority again, he was just the mech who helped create her; Jazz's Demority was hers.

Often she would sneak into his quarters, and slept snuggled up to him when they were small, told him she was afraid, though he was never sure of exactly what. All that mattered to him was that she was his sister; they went to school together, stuck together like glue for years, always had each other's back, they loved each other like true siblings, and were always closer than anyone would ever see past.

Jazz wanted more than anything for it to last forever. Then, something changed. She had other bots their age around her, and she spent more and more time with other meches; alone. Sure, he spent time with femmes, but she spent far more time alone with meches, many of them with bad-boy reputations. And with every new boyfriend she had, the more head-over-heels she fell, and the harder the break-ups were on her.

Jazz knew the terrible truth when he saw her begging a particularlyrude mech not to break up with her, saying she had proved how much she loved him, he couldn't leave her.

Jazz refused to let her date anyone who he didn't approve of personally first after that.

—End Flashback—

Jazz turned online again, wondering whether or not to bother with writing about this last dream in his log. He decided against it, pulling a high-grade energon from a hiding place in his room. He shook his head, he felt like an addict hiding his high-grade energon, but he wasn't about to give up the only thing that made his pain go away completely; if only for a few hours.

He heard tender, even knock on his door. He rolled over, groaning, "Go away Prowl. I'm tired." He quickly gulped down the last of his energon, hiding the empty container.

"Jazz, we need to talk." Prowl let himself in, sitting down next to Jazz. "I know it hurts to lose her, it hurts me too, but she would hate herself if she saw how her death as driven you to the edge. It's only logical to be sad."

Jazz suddenly hated Prowl, he didn't know why, but rage against him burned his systems, "You have no right! You didn't know her like I did! You didn't love her like I did! You didn't know her at all!" he shouted, he wasn't sure when he did it, but at some point in his shouting he had knocked Prowl to the ground, hitting him square in the jaw.

"Jazz! What's gotten into you? Stand down, that's an order."

"Don't you pull rank on me you logical bastard!" Jazz kicked him with all his might repeatedly while he was still down on the floor, uncontrollably shouting profanities at him, Jazz still hadn't even realized what he was doing. He didn't even realize it when Sideswipe and Sun Streaker pinned him down, locking him in restrictive energon bars.

All Jazz felt was hate, pain and loss, and all he wanted was her to come back from the dead and make it all go away. He had been left alone in the brig for a good twenty minutes before he realized what he'd done, and cried. He cried for so long he wondered if his face would rust, and he realized that he didn't want to do this anymore.

Jazz felt lucky he had been in the special operations department; he had been trained to get out of all kinds of restraints. He was even gladder the twins had forgotten his weapon. He was especially glad they had left him alone in the brig, if anyone was watching the security cameras, it would be too late before anyone got to him.

Once he got the restraints off his hands, he pulled his rifle out of his sub-space pocket. He pointed it directly into his optics, then he changed his mind, he took his visor off then put the gun up again. He stayed staring down the barrel of his own gun for what seemed like an eternity, but he finally moved his finger into position, tapping the trigger, hoping he could make it shoot him unintentionally.

Then the door opened and he found himself tackled to the ground by Blue Streak, "Jazz! Why?" He shouted, wrestling him for the gun.

Jazz felt more liquid streaming down his face, how could he tell him that he wanted to feel as bad on the outside as the inside? How could he tell him how much he hated himself? How could he tell him how much he missed her? How? He felt a painful surge from his spark core, and he fell offline.


Jazz woke in the med-bay, groaning, "Patch-Up? Man what happened?"

Jazz's old medic shook his head, whispering, "I'm sorry Jazz, but it was 'Beat who did this to you."

"No she didn't, there must've been a mistake…"

"I'm sorry Jazz, there was no mistake. She left you for dead."

"Yer lyin'! Ya gotta be! She's m' sis! She'd never... she wouldn't... she couldn't... Oh Primus... no..." Jazz, dispite amazingly powerful pain from his injury, sat up, wrapping his arms around his legs, waiting to wake from his nightmare.

But he never did.

—End Flashback—

Jazz woke to an empty med-bay, but voices drifting to his audios from the door outside, "Optimus Prime, he's become a danger to himself and those around him! Something has to be done!"

"I know you're worried Prowl, but what can we do when he's this unstable?"

"Anything! He's in danger to himself! Please Sir! We have to do something!"

"Prowl, I wish I could do something too, but this is his battle, the only thing that can re-stablize him mentally is himself, I don't think this was really caused by losing her, I think that was just the catalyst, that this upset condition was caused from a multitude of built up emotion over the eons. He needs to help himself now."

"But Ratchet-"

Jazz stopped litsening, he knew Ratchet was right. But he felt so alone, he missed his sister more than anyone else he had seen and lost in the war. He wanted more than anything in the Universe to be with her again, to be forever with her, as a brother and sister should.

He felt a sudden warmth, and he looked up to see a semi-transparent Heart-Beat above him, wrapping her arms around him, whispering in his audio, "Oh Jazz, I tried to explain to you that it was alright, why did you have to attack Prowl and yourself?"

"Heart' I…"

She put a finger on his lips and whispered, "Sh… I know I know… if it will ease you at all; I forgive you. I love you soooooo much bro! Please, it kills me all over again to see you in such pain! Please bro… stop beating yourself up. "Her ghostly arms wrung around his shoulders, a tear falling from her optic and landing on his visor, it was wet, but invisible. She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Okay?" He glanced up and nodded, taisting her tear, eveb though it didn't seem to be real. "And Jazz? Could you please tell Prowl I love him too? You two were the only meches I ever really loved, and I want you both to be alright. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah I can."

"Thank you Jazz." She kissed the crest of his helmet, "See you in a few million years when you join the Matrix, and be sure to give me niece or nephew, alright?"

"Alright, I hope it's that long, and I'll try to make you a proud aunt. See you then sis."

His optics came online, he was unaware they had been offline, and she was gone. But he saw the ajar door, and pulled himself off the med-table. He saw shadows and heard low murmurs, he moved slowly to the door to see Blue Streak, Prowl, Optimus, Ratchet, Wheeljack and the twins sitting in the waiting room, some dozing off. He pushed the door open; unaware of how meek he looked.

For a moment e just stood there, looking at his feet, then he raised his head and whispered, "I'm sorry. I screwed up, I let grief control me, and that only made things worse." He looked to Prowl, "You loved her too man; an' I'm sorry I overlooked that. She loved both of us, and I let ya, an her down. I'm sorry."

Prowl nodded, "Thank you Jazz, but what changed your mind?"

"She did."

Everyone jumpped, Jazz was either losing his mind or seeing ghosts. It wasRatchet whointerrupted, "As touching as this is; get your aft back on that table! Do you have any idea the hell you put me, and the rest of the base through Jazz!" Jazz couldn't help but smile, maybe going back to normal wouldn't be so hard after all.


Anyone hate it? Then screw you! Especially you Sid! RnR please!