Title: Forsaken's Prayer
Pairing/Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Ironhide, Bumblebee, Hound, Ratchet, Mirage, Sideswipe.
Verse: G1
Words: 3148
Warnings: Vampirism.
Summary: Prowl gets a chilling surprise after a fierce battle with the Decepticons when he follows a trail of energon and finds out a horrifying secret about Jazz.
Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers.
Notes: This is a small one-shot that may or may not be extended in the future. ^^ It started as a dream but got far more elaborate after I woke up.


Jazz spat out the tainted life-energon and clutched his scratched chassis tightly with one shaking claw. The deep gouges in his back were practically pouring out his plasma like a waterfall and every movement only made the pain rear it's head again-bleeding into the numbing ache of pleasure for a brief moment afterwards- as it pulled at exposed wires. Ducking his head and leaning against the outcropping of rock, he pummeled his free hand into the cliffside to clear out his irrational anger and vainly trying to rid himself of hunger as well. He couldn't very well show up at the ARK in this condition. He might attack a fellow Autobot and suck the plasma clear out of them until they were nothing but rust. Which would only raise questions by a certain three Regulars; questions that the whole ARK would rather not answer and no one wanted to perform Processor Wipes on any of the Regulars either.

Unfortunately that meant that Ratchet was going to have to come out here and supply him with a pack of life-energon to guzzle. At least then he could manage to walk down the halls without risking a accidental hunger rage. Reaching up to his comm. link Jazz waited impatiently for the CMO to answer the call, gnashing his growing fangs in an attempt to calm himself down. It wasn't working. If anything the gnashing reminded his vampiristic side of biting down on the soft pliable metal of a Regular. Reminding him of the heady and arousing rush of life-energon slipping into his mouth and feeling the warm liquid sliding down his thro-

+Where the frag are you, you slagging saboteur!+

Jazz snapped from his wandering daydream with a faintly hazy expression and answered with a voice laced with static, "Happen ta be... on tha' outcropping few miles... from ta battlefield... near the sea-side cliff." Jazz pulled the fist that had been punching through the rock out of the deep hole he had made and added as he stared at his plasma covered claw, "Need some... immediate field repairs an' a drink."

+Jazz what condition are you in exactly?+ Ratchet's annoyed tone was gone and in it's place was nothing but pure business. It set Jazz on edge and he furrowed his optic ridges as his optics began to glitch out on him answering the medic through his new hungering growl,

"Loosing plasma... fast Ratch'... loosing bit more 'en that... actually... If ya get what... I..."

Jazz cut off his own sentence as he breathed in slowly, exhaling equally as slow. There was a steady pouding building in his processor from the massive errors he was getting from the rest of his systems. He was loosing far too much plasma much too fast. His aroused fangs were starting to lengthen to their full size and he could feel the fire beginning to burn within him, starting at the back of his throat.

+Slag...+ Ratchet swore and then cursed loudly over the comm. and causing a ringing to echo in Jazz's sensitive audios. +Slaggit Jazz! Listen to me! Prowl is still missing! We can't find him anywhere!+

Jazz suddenly realized what the medic was implying. They hadn't found Jazz because of where he was but neither had any of them found Prowl. Casting his gaze around the deep pit he was in, he replied, "Gotcha... Ratch', I'll be headin'... headin'... frag..." Jazz's optics flickered irratically as a sharp smell assulted him. A sharp, delicious smell. His optics turned dark violet at the scent of life-energon and he narrowed his senses on a small crevice in the rock walls around him. Dread and desire battled in his spark as he heard the small sounds of pedes shuffling farther down the crevice, out of sight.

He hoped it was a Decepticon. He could attack a Con without any remorse or guilt; but if it was Prowl; Jazz didn't know if he could stop himself from loosing control around the Praxian.

It was proof that Primus forsaked the Turned when Prowl stumbled into the pit, looking lost and bewildered and his whole left arm covered and dripping life-energon. Jazz swore mentally, pushing himself into the cliff wall and struggling to keep himself from lunging toward the intoxicating liquid. If he stayed still and in the shadows of the outcropping Prowl shouldn't notice him. He would move along and Jazz could comm. Ratchet so someone could pick up Prowl safely, someone who wasn't at risk for a major hunger rage.

Of course Primus couldn't be kind, wouldn't listen to the hopes of a Turned.

With growing dread, he watched Prowl's optics zero in on the plasma trailing the rocky ground; following it all the way to him. He hated the concern that completely enveloped Prowl's face. He hated the voice that called out to him worriedly, asking if he was okay. He hated that he could not control the burning hunger that was now forcing him to move toward Prowl. He was loosing himself and Jazz knew it. Not Jazz anymore but a thirsty animal ruled by instincts that needed to drink the source of another being's life to survive. He was being forced into the backseat of his own body. Forced to watch as the animal got closer and closer to the Praxian.

"Jazz? What's wrong?"

"Nothin' is wrong Prowler." Jazz heard himself murmur slowly. "Just a little drained."

Jazz pushed and pushed at the burning in himself, to punch it down for a while longer. If he could hold out for the team that was sure to be scouring the area for both Prowl and himself then everything could remain untouched and innocent. It was selfish. He didn't want to see the fear in Prowl's azure optics and know it was he who caused it. Oh but it smelled so good...

"O-Oh. Jazz... maybe you should sit down... you're bleeding rather heavily." Prowl whispered with wide optics, only the faintest of hints that he suspected something was in fact very wrong.

"Ah, no Prowler. You see you can help me. You want to help me don't you?" The animal whispered back, coaxing Prowl with a tone as smooth and binding as silk. Instinct and spark were warring with each other, tearing Jazz apart from the inside. His spark protested angrily but Jazz could not resist the scent of life-energon so tantalizingly close. The animal kept spinning, "We are friends right? You wanted me to be your friend didn't you?"

Prowl nodded hesitantly looking more and more like those deer that stopped in the center of the road when he was driving, optics wide and getting a little too bright. Jazz recognized the signs of a Regular beginning to understand that a vampire was before them and he heard the life-energon within Prowl's body beginning to pump faster. Later his self-hatred would sky rocket at the words he whispered now, that were so well meant in the past, were bringing Prowl to this frightful fate. His spark battered relentlessly against the animal driving his body, the part of himself that cared for nothing but surviving and his own well-being; not the life of others.

"That's good." Until now, the fangs had been hidden in the shadow of the outcropping. Yet as Jazz shoved Prowl into the wall of rock behind the Praxian, scraping the fragile doorwings against the coarse surface, he knew that the moonlight was now clearly showing off the large pointed fangs in a mockingly sweet smile. "Good mech Prowler."

Jazz heard Prowl's engine hitch to a stop for a full three seconds as his optics stared at the fangs smiling at him. Then rapid gasping breaths began to start accompanied by small whimpers, weak hands trying to shove him away. His spark nearly wept while he continued the mocking whispers of "It's alright." and shushing the Praxian like a youngling in a nightmare. All the while Prowl stared at the fangs with growing terror.

Jazz forgot himself completely as he lower his head to the Praxian's -what was his name, he knew before didn't he?- shoulder, dragging his glossa across the slightly overheated plating. The sweet tang of life-energon hit his glossa like fireworks, filling his head with a driving hunger. Shoving his spark's cries away as he brought his mouth down on the gap in the Praxian's armor that was releasing the liquid, he sucked hard without using his fangs, moaning heatedly at the fresh life-energon filling his mouth. The arm he was leeching the fluid from began to falter on the insistent pushing on his chassis. The weakness only fueled the animals desire, his instincts recognizing a faltering prey and an easier meal. The soft fearful protests coming from the Praxian made his head dizzy with that feeling of control and power.

All to soon, he felt the flow in the Praxian's left arm lessen and he pulled back, licking his stained lips of the fluid, feeling his fangs throbbing for penetration. He wanted to bite. He needed to bite. Sliding his violet gaze up to the neck cables of the Praxian, he smirked and buried his face into them, licking and mock nibbling, trying to find the perfect one. Finally he found a main cable and he moaned at the feel of rushing life-energon traveling through it.


He ignored the shout and opened his mouth, closing them as fast as possible. He felt the slightest touch of the cable on his fangs before two iron strong hands grasped his shoulders tearing him away by flinging him backwards through the air. Jazz screamed animalistically as he crashed into a wall of stone, feeling his back's wounds splintering pain reignite. Turning violent optics on whoever dared to part him from his prey; he growled lowly in his chassis at the sight of Ironhide's large frame. He sensed movement all around him and hissed as the figures of Sideswipe, Mirage, Bumblebee, and Hound dropped from the outcropping's ledge. He watched Mirage walk toward him, lifting a hand and digging out the armor on his shoulder, tearing circuitry and allowing his plasma to bubble out of the broken jagged remnants of his shoulder plates.

Jazz moved fast, grabbing the noble vampire's arm and smashing him chassis first into the wall he had crashed into. Holding Mirage in place he plunged his fangs deeply into the noble's plating, drinking heavily from the offered plasma. The animal gorged itself, showing no remorse as it tore Mirage's shoulder apart with brutal bites. The hazy need for sustenance was beginning to fade and he could hear the voices and movements of his comrades more clearly with each passing klick.

His processor pounded and his back stung in a mix between pain and pleasure. Connecting his wayward chaotic thoughts was hard and he realized that the mech he was pinning to the wall had tremors wracking through his entire frame. He glanced up at the face of the mech and quickly pulled his fangs from the shredded shoulder, backing up with shaky legs. The fresh plasma coursing through his body made him shudder and he watched in a high detachment as Mirage slumped down the rock wall where Hound dashed forward to catch him, offering his wrist to the drained noble.

"It's okay Prowl! It's okay! Calm down, now, come on calm down."

Jazz felt his pink splattered memories return with the sound of Prowl's name and he whirled around with mounting despair. Prowl was struggling as much as a Regular could against a vampire as Ironhide tried to calm the distressed Praxian. Prowl's optics were so bright they appeared white and his poor doorwings were sprinkled with pink from the hard shivers knocking them against the rock behind him. Jazz felt sick; Prowl was in pain and scared out of his processor. It was not what he wanted for the Praxian. His fangs had retracted after drinking from Mirage but he could still feel them. He could remember the terror that Prowl had felt when he saw them for the first time.

For a the briefest of moments Prowl looked straight at him and then his whole body crumpled into Ironhide's arms. His spark just about stopped and he watched Ironhide and Bumblebee checking the tacticians vitals numbly, praying to Primus to help the Regular. Prowl was still in the God's favor, still one of his sparklings and he couldn't abandon him because of Jazz's mistake.

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