Chapter 1
Transformers isn't mine, it belongs to Hasbro the lucky bastards.
Author's Note: This story occurs several months down the line from my fic 'Ain't That A Kick In The Head', but it's not necessary to read that first. If you don't want to then, basically, Jazz and Prowl hooked up, but few of the others know about it.
Songs that helped inspire this plot bunny are:- Nickelback - Saving Me, 3 Doors Down - The Game and Changes, Dragonforce - Through Fire And Flames (Guitar Heroes is addictive!).
My muse is somewhat of a cruel, pain addicted thing, so I apologise now because this isn't going to be pretty or at all nice. Angst, slash and torture warnings ahead.
My thanks to Werebitch for beta-ing, in double quick time (she knows the woes of job hunting!).


Jazz understood patience, timing and planning. He needed patience to wait out the Decepticons, to time that perfect move in and out without being seen. All that took planning and prior knowledge and Jazz had thought - what with Prowl having a hand in these plans, predicting a ninety percent chance of success - that everything would go smoothly.

Getting in had been relatively straightforward, planting the bomb had almost been effortless and the saboteur patted his timed creation where it nestled in place between the computer bank and the experimental weapon. He expected leaving the base to take less time and Jazz knew exactly how long it would take him to get out of the base, if he wasn't delayed. He hadn't been and so when the bomb went off over two minutes early, tearing the area to pieces, including the corridor he'd been sprinting down, Jazz was seriously miffed. However, the feeling took a rather big back seat when something slammed into his back, sending him head over heels into the nearest wall and into merciful blackness.

Jazz wasn't offline long; pain soon dragged him groaning back to consciousness. His head ached, testament to the fact it had hit the wall first, and his left leg was screaming at him. His entire back throbbed and Jazz really didn't want to online his optics to see what state he was in, but he was alone in the middle of a Decepticon base and they would all be rushing into this area to survey the damage. No one would be coming to help him.

Jazz stared up at the ceiling for a moment, watching the smoke billow, before craning his head down to look at himself. A huge sheet of metal was curled and buckled all around him, pinning him in place from just under his bumper, so he couldn't see what was causing his leg so much pain. Internal sensors told him there was energon line damage, but little else.

First things first, then. Jazz wiggled his right arm free and was glad to see that apart from a few scratches it was in perfect working order. It took seriously more time and effort to get his left arm free and he was conscious of the seconds ticking away. Every moment spent in the base doubled the chances of getting caught and Jazz knew he was high on Megatron's wish list.

Megatron, he was pretty sure, had a 'destined for some personal time' list, and while obviously Optimus was slap bang at the top, he and Prowl were the next two. This wasn't just because they were next in command, but between Prowl's tactics and Jazz being head of Special Ops, they were a rather large thorn in Megatron's side.

With both hands free the Porsche tried to prise the metal up enough to allow him to slide free, but it barely moved an inch. He pushed, shoved, squirmed and kicked at the sheet, to no avail. That little bit of panic was beginning to set in at the back of his processors, and Jazz fought harder, scraping his side against the sharp edge. Pain curled through his body from his back as he jerked away.

The saboteur grunted harshly as he deliberately let the metal dig into his side, giving himself the extra room to get out. Slowly, too slowly, Jazz inched his way free, dragging himself with his arms and pushing when he could with his good leg. The screech of metal against metal sounded horribly loud to Jazz's audios, but not so loud as to drown out the thudding of big feet heading his way.

Jazz froze for a moment, identifying the owner, before redoubling his efforts. Very few 'bots knew that Jazz could match everyone to their own individual footsteps. Each transformer walked differently and then Jazz countered in their weight and size. Those big, heavy monstrosities belonged to one 'con only; Motormaster, and Jazz didn't need Prowl here to tell him the odds of him surviving, injured, versus the Stunticon leader.

By the time the Decepticon was in sight, at the other end of the wrecked corridor, Jazz had everything except the lower half of his damaged leg free.

"You!" a big voice boomed angrily.

Jazz flinched, dropping the edge of the metal straight down onto his leg and failed to completely muffle the cry of pain. The Decepticon roared and powered down the corridor at full speed. Jazz braced himself. This was going to hurt. Motormaster ripped Jazz free of his prison, wrenching his bad leg in the process, and the pain made Jazz feel fuzzy. The black mech held the much smaller Autobot around his shoulders, in both hands, and laughed when Jazz struggled weakly.

"So pathetic. I'm going to enjoy crushing you."

"Won't Megs be pissed if ya do?" Jazz grinned, hiding his fear, a plan forming in his mind in a flash of desperation.

Motormaster growled, shaking Jazz hard,

"Never said I would kill you."

"Megs likes doin' that 'imself."

"Shut up! I said shut up!"

Jazz murmured something softly and Motormaster dragged him forward, glaring, "What was that?"

Jazz lashed out, one foot aimed for his head, the other for a transformation seam and wincing as pain lanced up his bad leg on contact. Motormaster dropped him like a lump of lead, howling in pain. Jazz collapsed back onto his aft when his bad leg hit the floor first but was instantly scrambling upright again, heading in the opposite direction to Motormaster. He limped badly, bad leg refusing to take his weight, but he pushed the pain away. Getting out was the single focus of Jazz's life and he ran.

Motormaster wasn't long in coming after him, bellowing and cursing and generally letting the whole world know where Jazz was. The saboteur was out of the area of destruction by the time he saw another Decepticon, but Jazz's luck wasn't getting any better because Thundercracker stepped out of a room, into the corridor, right in front of him.

He saw the blue seeker stiffen in surprise and Jazz ran with it, pushing himself a little faster to tackle the bigger mech around the middle. They ploughed into the ground, Thundercracker on the bottom. Jazz laid a solid punch into the Decepticon's face before clambering over him, but Thundercracker wasn't stunned enough to just let an enemy escape. He caught hold of a leg as it disappeared over his head and pulled sharply.

Jazz collapsed down onto his chest with a cry of pain as Thundercracker wrenched his bad leg back. Rolling onto his side, he kicked at the seeker with his free foot, catching the edge of the canopy and cracking the glass. Thundercracker released his grip with a hiss of pain, but it was too late. Motormaster had caught up and Jazz never even made it back upright before a huge foot connected with his middle hard enough to send him hurtling back into a wall.

He bounced off it with a resounding crash and hit the floor with a yelp. Motormaster cackled at him before hauling him off the floor to smash him into the same wall. Pain seared through him as his back took all the abuse and his windshield cracked more. He cried out again when a fist ploughed into his side and braced himself for more blows, but they didn't come. Thundercracker was holding the fist Motormaster had raised to hit Jazz again.

"Let go, fly-boy!"

"You know the rules," Thundercracker wasn't intimidated by the black mech. "If he can't talk when Megatron sees him, you'll regret it."

Motormaster grunted, still wanting to hurt Jazz, but apparently sense won out - for once - and he dropped Jazz to the floor, where the Autobot promptly collapsed. The Stunticon grabbed his bad leg with one hand and set off up the corridor, dragging Jazz behind him, Thundercracker following them both. Pain swamped the Porsche, making everything blur, and the journey to wherever Megatron was passed without meaning. It wasn't until he was thrown forward, chest connecting with the floor first, this time, that Jazz paid any heed to his surroundings.

"Motormaster and I brought you a present, Megatron," Thundercracker's voice sounded out from somewhere above him.

A chuckle, followed by two grey feet appearing in his line of sight, confirmed Jazz's worst fears and he kept his head down. As much as he would love to mouth off at the Decepticon leader, the smallest mech in the room had to minimise the damage coming his way. He had to be fit enough to take any opportunity to escape.

As Jazz was dragged off the floor once more, coming face to face with Megatron, he had one very clear thought. Prowl would be reporting that Jazz was late in returning from his mission and he would already be considering how to rescue him. Prowl would come for him.