Title: Picture

Chapter: Ch. 1 - Certainty

Author: SBX

Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, Optimus Prime

Pairings: ProwlxJazz

Rating: PG

Warnings: AU, angst-fest ahead

Disclaimer: No character used in this story belongs to me.

Summary: The picture of a perfect family torn apart.

A/N: G1 fic. Totally inspired by vejiraziel's pic here. I blame her for all of this. And somehow, someway, I'm going to try to incorporate this crack idea into the cartoon's normal timeline. Let's see how well I do. :D

Bluestreak dodged through the crowds, using his small size to squeeze through tight spaces. He ignored the odd looks his presence gained as his optics scanned the crowds of Autobot warriors. Finally he spotted his goal and sprinted towards them, ignoring the indignant, angry cries as he shoved past mechs twice his size.

"Father! Dad!"

Prowl and Jazz looked up from their briefing with Optimus Prime at the sound of the familiar voice, just in time for Bluestreak to fling himself into the tactician's arms, toppling them both over into the saboteur's. Jazz barely managed to keep them all from landing in a heap on the ground.

The little youngling giggled, clinging to his father as his tiny door wings fluttered in excitement. Prowl gave him a stern look as he regained his balance. "Bluestreak, what have I told you about throwing yourself at people like that?" he scolded.

The youngling furrowed his brow in thought for a moment. "Only do it when you're not around," he replied hesitantly, then frowned. "No, wait, that's what Sides told me." Prowl sighed in defeat as Jazz chuckled. "Close enough."

Prime watched the small family interact with fond amusement. It was always a treat when Bluestreak slipped past the watchful eye of his tutor to find his parents. The youngling was a little ray of light in the dark times that they were in. It would be a pity when the plans to send him to a safer, less militarily active city went into effect. Many of the warriors had grown fond of him.

He didn't want to think about the effect the absence would have on the youngling's parents. It was, however, necessary. It was no longer safe for sparklings and younglings to be kept in Iacon. Prime sincerely hoped that peace would come soon so the separation would not last long.


The transport ship awaited him, but Bluestreak didn't want to board it. He clung to his parents' hands as tightly as he could, hoping to delay the moment of separation for as long as possible.

Jazz reached down to stroke the youngling's head reassuringly. "It's time to go, Blue," he murmured softly, sadness glaringly obvious in his usually cheerful voice. Bluestreak shook his head franticly in denial.

"No! I don't want to go! I want to stay with you," he cried, jerking back away from the ship. His left hand slipped from Jazz's grip, but Prowl's firm hold kept him from retreating further. The tactician knelt down before the youngling, drawing him into his strong arms as he stood again.

Bluestreak wrapped himself around his father as much as he could as his dad stroked his back soothingly, crooning soft words of comfort until the sobs stopped. Jazz was warm gentleness while Prowl was strength and steadiness.

"Bluestreak," Prowl spoke calmly, gaining his youngling's attention. "I know you don't want to leave, and we don't want you to leave either. However, it is for your own safety. It is too dangerous for you to remain in Iacon any longer. We don't want you to get hurt." The last part was but a whisper, the only way the tactician would show how much the thought of his youngling coming to harm hurt.

Bluestreak's door wings drooped in misery. He didn't want to leave, but he didn't want his parents to worry for him either. He looked between them, still uncertain. "We…we'll see each other again, won't we?"

"Of course we will," Jazz exclaimed with cheerful certainty. Prowl gave a gentle smile that he reserved only for his mate and his youngling. "Most certainly. We will attempt to visit as often as possible, and you'll be back with us again as soon as it has been deemed safe."

Bluestreak perked up at that, trying to put on a brave face. "I guess if it isn't permanent, it'll be okay," he said, forcing his wings steady and straight in an attempt to imitate his proud father. He only succeeded in looking really cute though, judging by his dad's amused grin.

A final call for boarding broke the brief levity and Prowl reluctantly set the youngling back on his feet. Final hugs and goodbyes were exchanged before Jazz gave Bluestreak a gentle push towards the ship's entry. He took off in a run, refusing to look back until he was inside the ship. If he did, he wouldn't be able to leave.

Once inside the entrance, Bluestreak turned around to get a last look at his parents before the door closed. It would be the last time he would see them for a long time.


They stared after the transport ship long after it had left their sight, arms around each other. Jazz sigh, resting his head on Prowl's shoulder as he asked, "Think he'll be okay?"

The tactician was quiet for a moment as he thought carefully about his answer. "Dursa is a city of no strategic importance. It should be safe from Decepticon attack. Also, the femme that he will be staying with is a trusted associate of Ratchet. He couldn't be in better hands. And of course he is very resilient. He'll adapt to his new surroundings soon enough and we'll be getting transmissions detailing his exciting new exploits within an orn," he replied honestly.

Jazz snorted at that. "You always cover all the bases, don't ya'," he said dryly. He looked his mate right in the optics, his expression serious. "You're absolutely certain he's going to be safe?"

Prowl leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Jazz's lips, then murmured, "I've never been more certain of anything in my entire life."