Warnings: spark-merge, mpreg.

Prowl and Jazz


"Blue." Prowl pleaded brokenly as he no longer fought the tears that slipped down his cheek.

"M' sorry, Prowl." the young Praxian murmured, his intakes heaving and forced.

"Please." Prowl begged, cradling his younger sibling close. "Please."


Prowl's face hardened into one of determination as he glowered at the data-pad before him. There must be something he missed, something crucial to get them out of this mess. The order for evacuation was still ringing in his audios, repeating in his helm from five breems ago. He grumbled to himself as the door flew open, optics shooting up to glare at the introduer.

"Jazz, you must knock before-"

"What the frag are ya doin' 'ere still?" Jazz asked in a shocked, panicked tone. "Ya gotta get out."

"No." Prowl replied calmly, taking up his stylus once again to work out the equation. Too low. The chance of survival was still too low. What was he missing?

He was immensely surprised as his chair was yanked back and he was grabbed harshly and pulled from his seat fast enough to give him whiplash. "We ain't arguin' on this, Prowler. Yer bros are already on their way to the ships. We gotta go now."

"You go." Prowl stated firmly, trying vainly to pry Jazz's digits from his wrist. That mech had some grip. "I am staying here."

"Ta do wha'? Paperwork?" Jazz growled. "For wha'? For who?"

"For whom." Prowl corrected with a slight scoff "The Prime has left, Jazz. He has left Cybertron, so I, as Second-in-Command must stay in his absence."

"The order was for all to get to the ships." Jazz said firmly, dragging the Praxian behind him. Prowl was coming even if he had to knock the stubborn aft out and carry him there himself. "There ain't nothin' left 'ere for anybot."

"The Decepticons-"

"Are leavin' too." Jazz finished. He loosened his grip on Prowl's wrist as the mech followed more willingly, but didn't let go.

The ground shivered and the walls shuddered as the outside was attacked with missiles and bombs. Jazz shoved Prowl down just as the foundation gave away, and the walls came crumbling down.

"Jazz-" Prowl's voice was drowned out as the wall completely gave way. It was humbling to have the Polyhexian's frame shielding his own smaller one, but in the heat of the moment he found that he couldn't really care much about the fact.

"Move." Jazz ordered as he helped Prowl up. Dust and debris fell from his back in clumps and clouds and scattered about on the floor.

"Are you injured?" Prowl asked, quickly stepping back to check the other's back.

"Nope." Jazz said, getting an internal reading giving him the same answer. He was lucky it was only cosmetic damage. "Don' matter anyhow, we gotta get movin' 'fore we both get hurt."

The hurried through the rubble, going through the now non-existent wall to the non-existent outdoors. There was nothing, plain and simple. The ground was a charred black, possibly reflecting the sky. Jazz pointed at a near distance and held his digit to his lips. A Seeker squadron was landing and taking grounded military formation. Prowl nodded in understanding.

Jazz pulled Prowl along, trying his hardest to keep from tripping over the fallen building and debris scattered about.

"Can you tuck your wings down?" Jazz asked once they were a few hundred astro-yards from the destroyed HQ and nearly hidden in the rubble.

"A bit." Prowl admitted. Doorwings weren't something one could really just hide away. There was no place for them other than as functioning doors or wings on their back. "Why do you ask?"

"'Cuz it's a tight squeeze down 'ere an' ya might not fit." Jazz answered, falling to his knees and lifting and tossing away pieces of what use to be roofs and walls.

He stood up again, and pounded his foot on the spot he had just cleared. The metallic ground buckled and loosened enough for him to tear it up after a few times. He glanced about, checking for the enemy. Most of them, like the Autobots, had already fled the planet. The Seeker formation would most likely leave soon, after making sure that the last of the Autobots and Neutrals had been wiped out.

"What is this?" Prowl asked as he knelt down next to Jazz, who was typing a sequence of glyphs into a keypad.

"Tunnels." Jazz answered simply as a circular cover slid aside and revealed a long, dark hole. "Spec. Ops."

"Explains why I was unaware of them." Prowl stated.

"Not even the Prime knew 'bout these." Jazz answered. With one fluid motion, he had swung his pedes in, and began to descend a rickety ladder. "Ya comin'?"

Prowl gave a single nod as he took Jazz's example and started to descend. The bit of light they had had from the outside disappeared as the cover slid back again. It only took a klik to reroute energy to their optics to light their way down.

It felt as if they had been climbing for joors. Prowl had given up counting steps and time as both seemed infinite. Neither spoke, afraid that what was left of the above world might hear them. The only sound was their heavy ventilations, the clank of metal on metal as they climbed down, and a metallic grating sound as Prowl's pressed down doorwings still managed to scrape the wall.

Jazz vented in relief as his pedes finally hit solid ground. He looked up and saw a blue band of light from Prowl's optics as the Praxian continued to scramble after him, and yellow and white sparks from the abused doorwings.

"It's easier walkin' down 'ere." he encouraged, actually able to stand up straight in the small tunnel.

Prowl looked relieved as his own pedes finally touched solid ground. He was still unable to lift up his doorwings, which looked the worse for wear, but they were no longer scraping the walls.

"This parts easy." Jazz spoke, leading the way through the maze of tunnels. "Jus' have'ta know where yer goin'."

Prowl didn't reply, observing the intricate work it took to make the tunnels. There were no seams from welding multiple tubes together, but there were bolts from time to time as he ran his hand across the smooth wall.

"I assume that we will have to leave the same way we entered?" Prowl asked, motioning back to the ladder that was no longer in sight.

"Actually..." Jazz started, turning into a dead end tube. "These tunnels were built jus' for this purpose."

"Escape?" Prowl thought aloud "Then why did nobot except those in Special Ops. know about them?"

Jazz slid back another hidden panel, this time it in the wall and not requiring abuse to open. He shrugged as he added a three glyph combination. "Ah don' know. Ah think it was supposed ta be handed out over time, but we never had time ta do it."

Both squinted harshly as the block in their path slid away, opening up right to the ship yards. Jazz slumped a bit as he noticed all the pods left, waiting for ignition to take off.

"Did anybot make it?" he asked as they quickly went aboard a four-bot pod. It would come in handy if they came across others in space, hopefully Prowl's brothers.

Prowl shook his helm, noticing the few bare spaces that had once contained a pod or two. He didn't even bother to ratio the missing to those still present, it wasn't encouraging by any means.

It wasn't long before their own pod left the atmosphere, and Prowl began a short-range sweep for nearby ships. He was immediately rewarded with two.

"That's an Autobots pod." Prowl pointed out, the small ship visible just ahead as a tiny, irregular shaped dot.

"That one ain't." Jazz said firmly at the ship coming towards the first. "Don' worry, Ah don' think it's yer bros. They left long before we did."

Prowl didn't listen as he quickly sent out a comm. to the Autobot ship ahead. "This is Autobot SIC Prowl contacting Autobot pod in line of sight. Who is aboard? Over."

Jazz shuttered his optics as a semi-panicked tone assaulted his audios. "P-Prowl? That you?"

"Smokescreen." Prowl swallowed. "There is a Deceptic-"

"I know, Prowl." Smokescreen interrupted, static lacing the message. If it was from the bot or the faulty connection, Prowl didn't care.

"Hold on. Jazz and I will come and intersep-"

"Prowl, there's no time." Smokescreen stopped him again. "You won't reach us in time."

A voice which seemed to be behind Smokescreen and slightly muffled was just barely heard. "Tell Prowl that we love him."

Jazz placed a hand on the Praxian's shoulders as Smokescreen relayed the message. "Blue wants ya to know that we love ya."

"Smokescreen, we can-" Prowl was interrupted once again before he could try and argue.

"Jazz, take care of our bro." Smokescreen ordered. "I'll know if you didn't."

"Ah will." Jazz promised, squeezing the shoulder he held onto.

Smokescreen snorted. "Good. Cuz' if you don't, I'll haunt you."

A small choking sound came from Prowl, but nothing more. Smokescreen cut off the comm. connection, and blocked both further connection attempts and his side of the sibling bond. Prowl intook sharply as Bluestreak too blocked his portion.

"Look away." Jazz ordered to the frozen Praxian.

Prowl never moved, except for a twitch in his doorwing. He was totally fixated on the incoming Decepticon ship, and the one that contained the last of his, that he wasn't going to be able to move the Praxian, Jazz did the next best thing.

Prowl didn't argue as a white hand was slid over his optics, cutting off his sight of the two ships. It did nothing, though, for the sound of the explosion and the feel of the aftershock as it shook their pod.

He felt a slight sting in his optics as Jazz pulled him away from the window, only removing his hand once Prowl was seated and turned away from the sight. The blast sent from the Decepticons to wipe out the Autobot ship had taken out both ships.

"Blues still out there." Prowl said lowly. "Smokescreen's gone."

Jazz nodded. "We'll get Blue, Ah promise."


Jazz was always true to his promises. It hadn't been easy, but the Polyhexian had somehow managed to get Bluestreak aboard. The poor thing had been floating in space amongst the rubble of the once been ship, badly damaged beyond what medical equipment they had in the first aid kit.

Jazz had stepped aside and let Prowl take over once Bluestreak had been placed, half conscious, in a reclined chair. The strongest pain chip they had had been slid into his wrist, although what he really needed was an induced stasis.

"Blue?" Prowl asked gently, noticing the way the younger bots hands curled about something curved. "What is that?"

"Smokescreen." the gray mech choked out, moving his hand to show the red chevron he clutched. Prowl's intakes hitched, but he said nothing. Bluestreak clutched the bit of his brother all the harder as unconsciousness took him.


Prowl fell sullenly silent as the orns turned to a quartex, and then some. He spoke very little, and usually only to Bluestreak. He could feel his brother fading by the klik, helpless to do anything. There was nothing to do, so he wasuseless.

He had been keeping watch over some monitors, watching their fuel dip a bit lower every few joors. His hand went over his spark and his optics widened as he quickly left one of the captain chairs.

"Blue." Prowl vented, gathering up his brother's limp frame.

"M' sorry, Prowl." the youngling gasped, his torn up frame choking as life started to leave him.

"Please." the elder brother pleaded, tightening his grip on is other, as if he could hold onto his own sibling's life. "Please."

The naturally gray frame darkened dramatically, and the hazy blue optics that mirrored Prowl's watery ones darkened black and shuttered. The frame went limp, lax as pain and spirit left it. Prowl choked as a suppressed sob escaped his vocalizer. He was numbly aware of a hand pressed on his shoulder, and another hand placed on Bluestreak's frame.

"Ah'm sorry." Jazz vented, unsure if Prowl could even hear him. "It's gonna be alrigh', 'kay?"

Prowl's intakes hitched again, and he shuttered his own optics as yet another piece of him died.


Prowl didn't care to watch as Jazz dumped Bluestreak's frame into the vast, emptiness of space. He clutched the only piece of his younger brother he had left, his dark blue chevron, like a lifeline. He hadn't been aware of his breakdown until he had woken up, exhausted and cried out and covered in silver particles of an offlined frame. He hadn't the heart to brush away the gray dust, feeling as if that and the chevron was the only thing keeping his brother close.

Jazz vented as he watched the near-youngling's frame float away, bound tightly in a warming blanket they had managed to spare. It just wasn't right, dumping him like that. He deserved a much better burial, one with more honor and respect and not involving a tarp.

He sighed heavily as he took the pilot's chair to get them away from it. Prowl never even acknowledged the Polyhexian as the ship powered up, and they left his brother to the endless, vacuumed abyss.


"Prowler, please." Jazz pleaded, stroking his mate's servo.

The Praxian shook his helm once again, stubborn as ever. Jazz had been pleading, begging him to reopen his side of the bond. For groons, vorns even, back on Cybertron they had had to block their bond for fear that the 'weakness' would be found by the enemy and exploited. Now, alone in the pod with nothing to do and no one to speak of, there was no point to leave it closed and blocked.

"Why?" Jazz asked, cupping the white cheek. "Can ya jus' tell meh tha'?"

"I don't-" Prowl's intakes hitched, still raw from his brothers' offlining. "I don't want to h-hurt you."

"More than ya are now by blockin' meh out?" Jazz asked softly. He vented, and turned Prowl's face towards his once again as the Praxian looked away. "Please, even jus' a little. Don' have'ta be all at once, jus' a bit."

Prowl shuttered his optics, laying his helm on his mate's shoulder. He bit his bottom lip in hesitation. All those terrible thoughts that had been plaguing his mind, all those thoughts that would hurt Jazz more than they ever could Prowl. What would hurt the Polyhexian more, though? Hiding from him, or sharing it?

A bit of relief swarmed Jazz's spark as he felt Prowl,felt him for real, the first time in vorns. He felt the other open his bond a bit more, slowly, then suddenly all at once. He said nothing, only shuttered his optics as Prowl's suppressed thoughts and feelings flooded into him.

"Prowl." Jazz choked out. "You-"

He shook his helm, unable to finish. Suicidal thoughts, but not his own, filled his mind and spark. He felt Prowl's current feeling, deep shame and remorse.

"It ain't yer fault." Jazz managed, besides himself that Prowl could have died by self-inflicted means, and Jazz would have never known about it. Not until it was too late.

"Jazz, I-I'm so-" Prowl started, his words hushed and low in sorrow.

"Open yer chassis." Jazz ordered, gently but still ordering.

"What?" Prowl asked, confusion clear in his voice.

"Ya need ta get sorted out, Prowler." Jazz soothed. "Ah can help ya do tha'."

"Jazz, you don't have to." Prowl stated. While Jazz knew how, he only knew so much. How selfish of him to want to commit something so dastardly! It wouldn't just take him away, but Jazz too.

"But Ah do." Jazz stated as he let his digits trail up Prowl's cheek. Jazz opened his own chassis to encourage the Praxian. "Ya don' have ta do anythin', Prowler. Jus' lemme in an' Ah'll help ya."

Unable to argue, there was no point and would only hurt Jazz more than he already had, Prowl obeyed. With the familiar motions, Prowl opened and slid back his own chassis. His spark swirled about in mirror of Jazz's, only his a few shade's darker due to the trauma and severs it had gone through.

Jazz somehow managed to get Prowl to lay across him, right on top. Prowl's frame wasn't all that heavy, due to the stubborn bot's chagrin against eating, and was a few yards smaller than he was. Jazz reached out, silvery tendrils reaching out from his spark to Prowl's own.

He gripped his mate's hand as he entered, and his spark and mind were flooded with the depth and intimacy of Prowl's dark thoughts. He had had things planned, firewalls ready for instillation to make it unknown and painless for Jazz.

'Painless?' Prowl felt rather then heard Jazz asked.'It wouldn't have hurt meh ta find ya offlined?'

He received no answer except a swell of regret, remorse, and self-loathing. Jazz clasped Prowl's hand in his own, the similarly colored digits and palms seeming to merge like their sparks. Prowl shuttered his optics, wishing that he could again cut off his mate from his thoughts and feelings, and the comfort and support coming in from Jazz's end.

'Jus' lemme help ya.' Jazz seemed to breathe into him.'Ah'll get ya all sorted out.'

Prowl could already feel himself being straightened out. Jazz helped ease the pain, he was a literal buffer between Prowl and his own processor. Prowl lost track of the time, the kliks, breems, and possibly even joors all blending together into one single moment. His optic shutters felt like they were made of lead, and he had long since lay still on top of Jazz.

'Jazz.' Prowl murmured apologetically into Jazz's being.'I-I may fall asleep.'

'It's okay.' Jazz comforted, petting the SIC's doorwings out of habit.'Ah'll have ya all sorted out when ya wake up.'

He watched as the depressed Praxian shuttered his dim optics, and felt the very moment he fell asleep. A peace washed over him, untainted by troubled thoughts and dark emotions. He continued to act as a buffer for his mate, not exactly taking on all of the bad thoughts Prowl's processor created, but managed to strain them in a way to make them less forceful and harmful.

A click, seeming to resound within them, became a signal to Jazz that it was time to stop. He slowly withdrew his spark, Prowl's own backing up as the one became two once again. Prowl's chassis automatically closed, even in REM, as Jazz forced his closed. He didn't have the spark to move Prowl, despite the fact that the Praxian was laying on his leg a bit in an awkward way. He hadn't had feeling in it for the past joor, and the tingling was getting annoying.

Too tired to care, Jazz shuttered his optics and joined Prowl in recharge.


Jazz would have been lying if he had said that he wasn't very concerned when Prowl woke up, and nearly purged. Prowl scoffed at Jazz's hovering, only increasing his nausea in his agitation.

"Jazz, I'm fine." Prowl vented, causing the staring mech to turn quickly. Like that was going to do anything. "It's most likely a small bug in my systems. I wasn't even ill. If anything, its space-sickness."

"Ya never had 'space-sickness' before." Jazz snorted, using air quotations.

"I haven't been outside the atmosphere all that often." Prowl retorted, rolling onto his side to face the Polyhexian. The only reason he was still lying down, besides the fact that his tank was still queasy and there was nothing else to do, was because Jazz wouldn't let him up. "Not as often as you have, anyways."

Jazz hummed a bit, not so sure. He cast a wary glance at their wavering fuel, or the ship's at least. Their own personal fuel was fine, but the fuel in the ship's tank was slowly dipping towards empty as they went on.

Prowl raised the seat up. There really was no reason to be lying down, he felt fine now. If anything, it must have been from recharging during a merge. He stopped his logic processor from coming up with another possibility by shaking his helm. At times he wished that he had an on/off switch to keep it off for good. It was immensely annoying going about, noticing everything, and finding out multiple reasons for it.

Take their gas, for example. The petrol needle was dropping, bit by bit every orn. Now, they could just have a ship that burned gas quickly. A more logical answer was a slow leak into the outer vacuum, explaining why he kept getting whiffs of the fumes every so often.

There was another odd thought. Just how was he smelling the gas if it was outside? He knew there wasn't a leak inside or else Jazz would have noticed, but how was he noticing it when it was outside in an endless space, through thick walls of metal?

No matter, what was more important...what was more important? There was absolutely nothing to do in this-

"Jazz, what are you doing?" Prowl asked, cocking an optic ridge warily as Jazz unsubspaced a small device with a handle and a pin-point hook.

Jazz shrugged. "In Spec. Ops., ya never go anywhere without yer tools. Ah thought that Ah could tinker with the chairs or somethin', make a berth for us with them.

"Would you be needing a second pair of hands?" Prowl asked hopefully.

Jazz chuckled, rolling his optics a bit beneath his visor. "Ya sure yer feelin' okay?"

"Fine, Jazz." Prowl confirmed.

"'Kay, then." Jazz smirked, motioning Prowl over to help keep the chair still. Maybe he could have him hold the flashlight in this well-lit room, too.


"Prowl." Jazz nearly growled, controlling himself only because of the situation.

"I'm fine." Prowl murmured, venting deeply through his mouth to calm his tanks. He couldn't be sick again, not when they were on rations.

"Prowl, yer obviously not." the Polyhexian scoffed. "If ya were fine, ya wouldn't have been sick on an' off for the past two quartexes."

Prowl absent-mindedly rubbed at his chassis a bit, more of just a fiddle, but he was uncomfortable there. It felt as if he were swelling up like a balloon, puffing up in a tight space. Jazz's optics narrowed in on the action, becoming more and more noticeable as time went on.

"Yer spark still botherin' ya?" he asked, worry clear in his voice as he placed a servo on his mate's shoulder from the behind. It as much easier to get closer now that they had welded two chairs together to form a rather nice berth.

"It doesn't hurt." Prowl defended himself, lamely at that.

"Ah never said it did." Jazz stated. "Can Ah...look?"

Prowl's optics widened for a klik. "What?"

"Hey, it ain't like Ah haven't seen it before." Jazz smirked. "Ah ain't a medic, but Ah'm the next best thing."

Prowl quirked an optic ridge at his mate. "The next best thing?" he parroted.

"Maybe not..." Jazz mused, scratching his chin. "But Ah'm the closest thing ya got."

Prowl vented and lay back against the berth. Jazz took that as a 'yes', and sat up fully. When Prowl never made his move, he tapped on him firmly.

"Prowler." he warned.

He was answered by a metallic scrape and a click as Prowl's chassis sprang up and tucked back, as fast as a released spring under great pressure.

Prowl shuttered his optics, not wanting to look at Jazz's face. How humiliating.He waited for Jazz to speak, something most likely along the lines of 'Ah have no idea' or something like that.

"Prowler?" Jazz asked slowly, shock clear on his faceplates, despite the fact Prowl wasn't looking.

The Praxian hummed in reply. "What?"

"What's yer opinion on startin' a family?" Jazz questioned.

"Aren't we already a family unit?" Prowl asked, opening his optics to see Jazz's not quite horrified faceplates, but not at all calm either. "What's the matter?"

"Well...ya've got two sparks in ya." Jazz put bluntly. "Ah'm pretty sure tha' tha' means yer sparked."

"I-I can't be." Prowl stammered, starting to sit up. Jazz pressed him back down, optics fixated on his mate's brightened spark, and the second soul floating aimlessly around it.

"Well, it is." Jazz vented, motioning that Prowl could close his chassis if he wanted. They snapped shut with a resounding 'clang'.

"What do we do?" Prowl asked lowly, his near whisper both showing and hiding his shock and fear. So much could go wrong in a pregnancy, and without a medic at that. Who was going to deliver it? Jazz, obviously. That annoyingly right voice in the back of his helm stated.

Jazz enveloped Prowl in a warm embrace. "We thank Primus and get ready."


"So...ya can feel it?" Jazz asked, pressing a hand to his mate's warm chassis.

Prowl nodded slowly, fatigue visible in his face. He shifted a bit as he felt another twinge, another tendril connecting his soul fully to the soul of his sparkling, broke. All last night, if that's what the later hours could still be called in the eternal darkness of outer space, the slow snapping of his sparkling separating had kept him awake. Jazz, despite his promise to stay awake, had fallen asleep in the end. He couldn't blame him, though, it was late and they both were tired.

He grunted a bit as a large portion snapped free all at once. It didn't exactly hurt that much, but it was not at all pleasant. It felt as if he were being stretched like a rubber band, released, and then snapped back.

The Praxian started a bit as the final tendril separated, instantly leaving him feeling empty and vulnerable as the spark began its decent to his gestational chamber. It was comforting, though, as his mate clasped his two larger hands over his slightly smaller.

Jazz grinned his trademark, lopsided smile as the fatigue began to overtake Prowl, and the mech became lax beside him. Being the tease that he was, he began to stroke Prowl's servo, just barely tickling the armor. His grin grew when Prowl's helm finally rolled down, his optics visibly shuttered and his breaths slow and even.

Not really tired, but too warm, comfortable, and lazy to get up, he pulled his mate closer to him, and continued his gentle administrations to the mech's sensitive doorwing.


Jazz bit his bottom lip as the long awaited sputtering burst from the sides of the ships before dying off, taking their engine with it. A glance at the petrol meter confirmed his suspicion, as the needle dipped just below empty. He glanced back at Prowl, currently resting but not entirely asleep in the captain chair beside him.

The Praxian had grown much the last groon and a half, currently marking their Exodus at approximately two groons. The bulge wasn't very large, yet, but more than noticeable on his too thin frame.

He refrained from looking at his own reflexion in the windshield, knowing that maybe not as thin as his mate, he wasn't the picture of health himself. Their energon stock, while technically enough for a few groons for four mechs, wasn't going to last forever. Instead of setting some aside for the sparkling and dividing up the rest, they had set some aside for the sparkling and created a common stockpile. Neither wanted to know just how little they had, and for how long.

Prowl's helm dipped low as he finally fell asleep. Good. Savin' more energy.

Bored, Jazz started to click through the radio. Most channels spurted only static, but a few created garbled messages of a near distinguishable voice. He turned the volume down, and zeroed in a station near static free.

'To all Auto-'

Jazz slammed the radio off, anger squeezing his spark. Of course, the war would end the moment they ran out of rocket fuel. He glanced back over at his sleeping mate, eyeing the rounding stomach plating. It wasn't fair. It was not fair! Not to him, not to Prowl, and certainly not to the sparkling.

Jazz didn't have the high-tech, fancy computer's Prowl had, but he did have the basic CPU every bot had. Even he could come up with pretty accurate statistics of the situation.

Chances of survival-Name input- Jazz.Might as well just test it.Situation-lost in space, no ship fuel, malnourished, extreme ration. Enter.A little loading bar spun about, filling his vision for a moment.Results- Chance of survival-Possible, but decreasing. Exact percentage- Approx. 87.148%...recalculating 87.147%

Jazz vented. If that percentage was to the situation of an innocent at gunpoint, Decepticon, of course, he would be extremely hesitant of taking a shot at the Con. Too close to 85% to be trusted.

Chances of survival-Name input-Prowl.Work his way down to the sparkling.Situation-lost in space, no ship fuel, malnourished, extreme ration, two groons sparked.Jazz leaned back as the blue loading bar appeared. His digits started to drum as the loading took too long for him, despite the lack of anything to do afterwards.Results-Chances of survival-Possible, but low and decreasing. Exact percentage- Approx. 75.5%

Jazz bit his bottom lip, sucking a bit as he questioned what to do. Did he really want to see what the sparkling's would be if Prowl's was low because of it?

Chances of survival- Name input- Unknown. More information required- Age of bot- Newspark/sparkling. First stage. Situation- lost in space, no ship fuel, malnourished, extreme rations, newly extracted.His fingers drummed for another reason as he waited for the loading bar to disappear.Results-Chances of survival-Slim, and decreasing. Exact percentage- Approx.-34%.

Jazz powered down his HUD.That was his sparklings chance after extraction? Was it even fair for it to be born in such conditions? While extinguishing was far out of the question, in both ethical evaluation and the fact that they had no means of doing so, it did look like a good option at the moment.

He rubbed his chin, nothing but worry enveloping him as he leaned back in his chair, optics shuttered. They'd-no-he'd figure something out. He had to. There was no other option.

Therewassomething he could do. He reached over to the outer comm. controls, and turned on the message board. He tapped out a quick recording, and set it on an endless loop.

'S.O.S' was read out in three dots followed by three dashes, and then a trio of more dots. 'C.Q.D'

There. Jazz nodded his approval.That's all Ah can do, for now.


A red dot blinked on the screen as a near-by comett made itself known. It wasn't close enough to cause worry in the Polyhexian. He turned towards the mech, once again resting but this time in the berth at the rather late hour.

"Hey, Prowler, ya up?" Jazz called. The Praxian hummed and stirred, but nothing more. Jazz frowned. Prowl needed the rest, but he could sleep in as there was nothing to do. "Prowler, come check this out."

The large, cratered comet was beginning to make itself known. Prowl wasn't going to want to miss this.

"Hey!" Jazz called out louder, pleased when a bit of blue light lit up the dark ceiling. An irritated face lifted itself up, questioning him silently. Jazz motioned towards the windshield with his helm. "Ah thought you'd wanna see this."

He turned his attention back to the window as Prowl vented and began the task of getting up. He had upset the Praxian earlier by laughing at him when he had tried to rise, and nearly failed due to the sparkling weighing him down. The best thing to do now was to keep his back turned and ignore him as he got up.

Bad idea as a metallic crash and thud sounded behind him. "Prowler." Jazz vented wide opticed as the mech struggled to hold himself up on the edge of the berth. "Easy, now."

It was too easy a task to lift him up and sit him on the berth. A confused, dazed look was in Prowl's dim optics as he continued to teeter. He slumped, saved from another spill only by Jazz's hand laying him back.

Jazz vented as he pressed a single button on the wall, the panel sliding back to reveal their ever decreasing stockpile. He picked up one cube, the same size as all the rest and just as scarce, and returned.

Prowl moaned softly as he began to come to, blinking the fuzz from his optics as he made out Jazz's distinguishable frame. He shook his helm, not trusting his voice just yet.

"Just a li'l'.' Jazz stated, holding the cube of blue, liquid gold out to the Praxian.

Prowl again shook his helm, slowly sitting up. The lightheaded feeling was still there, but just barely manageable if he vented and moved slowly. "I can't, Jazz. Not when we're running out."

Jazz shook his helm firmly, taking Prowl's hand himself and pressing the cube into it. "This is 'bout the sparklin', Prowler." Jazz stated, the percentages from-how long was it?- a few groon ago still animated in his processor.

Too weak to argue, and his systems screaming statistics in his helm of how much the one cube would help, he took it. After a sip, and the fog in his processor clearing a bit, Prowl cocked his helm to the side.

"Why were you calling me?" Prowl asked, glancing at the Polyhexian.

Jazz shrugged. "There was a comet. Thought ya'd wanna see it."

Prowl frowned into the cube, its glimmering fluid glowing off his white hands. "I made you miss it."

Jazz chuckled breathily, gently clapping a hand over his mate's shoulder. "It's all righ', jus'a comet. A big rock tha's gonna crash into some planet sooner or later."

Prowl quirked an optic ridge, but refrained from telling him just how improbable that was by taking another sip of the cube. The chances of a comet, or meteor, or anything of that size and magnitude getting close enough to a planet to get sucked into its gravitational pull? As if!


Prowl grumbled to himself as he shifted uncomfortably. He was much too large for his emaciated frame to support any longer, and spent a good deal too much sitting about. To top of the already miserable feeling, sharp contractions had started to show up. On and off all night, and even now as the day dragged on.

Jazz yawned widely, just barely covering it with the back of his hand. Prowl scoffed.

"I told you to recharge last night." Prowl stated in an unamused tone.

Jazz snorted. "And if the sparklin' had started ta come?"

Prowl stared blankly at the Polyhexian. Could he really, honestly be so dense? "I would have found a way to wake you up." he said dryly, grimacing a bit as his stomach tensed again.

The visored mech shrugged a bit. Another yawn cut off whatever he was going to say, and the blight blue band around his optics turned gray for a moment.

"Jazz, just get some sleep." Prowl ordered. "I don't think the sparkling will come while you have a nap."

Jazz scowled a bit, but was honestly too tired to care. He wouldn't sleep, just rest a bit. Shutter his optics from the bright light, cross his servos across his chassis, and relax.

Prowl couldn't hide the pitying smirk he gave his mate after the exhausted mech slumped forward in recharge. It was instantly replaced by a grimace of pain the next klik as a rather painful contraction hit him.

Jazz was an idiot, plain and simple. He had the option of recharging last night, but had decided against it because Prowl couldn't sleep. Where was the logic in that? They both had jobs to do; Prowl was to deliver and Jazz was to catch. How as Jazz supposed to do that half asleep?

The Praxian gasped a bit, hissing sharply as the contraction grew and lasted much longer than the others. He shuttered his optics tight, venting harshly until it passed. He didn't unshutter his optics once it had passed, though, but instead basked in the darkness. It was pleasantly warm under the warming blanket, space was very cold and retaining heat was hard as their protoforms thinned.

Prowl hummed to keep from gasping, or shouting, as the next contraction hit. He had to admit, it sounded odd to his own audios, but at least as quiet enough to keep Jazz asleep. He shuddered as an odd, new sensation pierced him. It felt almost like a latex band had snapped, like a water balloon.

He bit his bottom lip as a warm, liquid feeling soaked his upper pedes.Not good.He cleared his throat, loudly, and gasped as an even sharper contraction hit.

"Jazz?" he called once he was able to breathe again. "Jazz? I-I was wrong. I-" he hissed sharply, pausing for a moment. "The sparkling is going to initiate labor while you sleep."

The Polyhexian never stirred. In fact, if Prowl had been given a guess, he would have said that his tired mate had gone into a deeper REM state.

"Jazz?" Prowl called out again, a hint of panic in his voice as the contractions came a bit closer together. Wasn't this stuff supposed to take joors? "Jazz, wake up."

Prowl grunted as he pushed himself up and over the side of the berth. He took a klik to breathe and regain himself before hefting himself to his pedes. "Jazz? Wake up, please?" his face hardened in a scowl as his mate snored softly.

How dare he sleep at a time like this! Wasn't he the one so worried about him and all? Wasn't he the one making him lie about and do nothing, besides the fact that there was absolutely nothing to do?

"You had sure as frag wake up now." Prowl demanded, choking silently as he grabbed the back of Jazz's seat. "I am not giving birth and catching the sparkling. How is that going to work out, hmm? Are you going to sleep through all this, you aft?" his voice raised a bit as the contraction passed. He turned the seat to face the sleeping mech. "I'm-...sorry."

Jazz looked so innocent, his face sketched with worry and fear even in recharge. Now Prowl felt like the aft as he looked at the sleeping bot, thankful that Jazz hadn't heard anything he said. His grip tightened on the chair once again, making him forget all about how sweet Jazz looked in recharge.

"Wake up!" Prowl demanded sharply, his pedes buckling a bit as the contraction threatened to push him to the floor.

Jazz snorted a bit, groggily coming to. He hummed in confusion, asking Prowl what was going on.

"Nothing, Jazz." Prowl snarked. Wasn't it just amazing how one's personality changed so much when introduced to labor? "My oil just broke, n-" he choked. "nothing to worry about."

Jazz hummed sleepily, his helm lowering once again. Prowl's face hardened into one of determination and indifference, as in he was completely indifferent to how tired Jazz was. The Polyhexian started as a harsh slap to the servo rudely awakened him.

"Huh?"

"Jazz." Prowl moaned, half-sinking to one knee as he completely held himself up on the chair.

Jazz was on his feet in an instant. He took in the oil trail Prowl had left in his staggering to get to him, and pieced the obvious together like a fine detective.

"What are ya doin' up?" Jazz exclaimed, taking Prowl's servo and weight to get him back to the berth.

Prowl growled audibly, but refrained from answering. It would not have been nice.

"Ah thought ya said it was gonna take a while." dumb statement number two. Primus, did he want for Prowl to call him names and tear him apart?

"Well, obviously not." Prowl gritted out between clenched denta.

Jazz put his hands in the air, surrendering to Prowl's wrath, "Okay, okay. Sorry. Ah'm sorry, 'kay?"

"Don't patronize me." Prowl scolded, shuttering his optics and half-groaning half-hissing in pain.

"A-are ya sure you're ready?" Jazz asked, shifting on his pedes nervously. Prowl glared daggers directly into his spark. "Okay... so, what d'ya wan' meh ta do?"

Prowl blanked. "I'm not certain. I always figured we'd just know what to do, when the time came."

"Then you've been wrong twice today." Jazz stated, fiddling with his hands before awkwardly clapping a hand on Prowl's knee. Prowl scowled and grimaced once more, a near keen leaving his vocalizer.

Jazz hurried away from Prowl side and fumbled about the pod for the first aid kid. He grabbed up a few pain chips before motioning for Prowl's wrist.

"Are you certain-" he gritted his denta."Are you sure it won't hurt the sparkling?"

Jazz hesitated. He scolded himself. Now's not the time ta be second-guessing."Ah'm sure." he said, sliding one into Prowl's wrist, optics widening as he watched how fast it was drained. Another one was slid in. "Tha' helpin' any?"

"A bit." Prowl vented tiredly. His optics shuttered, his frame going lax. One of his optics opened in irritation after a sharp poke to his side.

"Are ya sure ya should be goin' ta sleep?' Jazz asked worriedly.

"I don't think anyone has ever slept through labor." Prowl returned. "I don't think I'll be able to recharge anyways." he vented out.

"All righ'." Jazz seated himself on the floor, besides the berth.

He glanced towards the small first aid kit, wondering if it would be enough. They didn't have many pain chips, nothing to sterilize anything with, and only a few warming blankets to keep both Prowl and the sparkling warm, and clean up with. He rubbed at his temple, it doing nothing but still a bit comforting to the dull throb beginning. He glanced up at Prowl, both surprised and pleased to see the Praxian in a light recharge.


Panic seized his spark as the tiny, gray frame slid into his servos. There was just too much energon and oil to be good. He was torn between the gray but wailing frame shuddering and shivering in his servos, and his pale mate who had just slumped back.

"Shh." Jazz hushed the screaming sparkling in his arms as he grabbed the warming blanket and rubbed her briskly. Her gray color never changed, but instead darkened into a charcoal. A gray chevron on her forehelm began to take color, a deep cheery red seeping into it. Her chassis started to lighten to a creamy white, but nothing more than a stretched circle.

"Hey, li'l' femme." he shushed, rocking her back and forth as he turned to Prowl. His mate's optics were no longer open, and his pale, sickly color had not darkened back to its original shade.

Having to dispose of the bundle in his arms, he carefully leaned one of the padded captain's seats back and lay her in it. She cried at the loss of warmth and protection, but Jazz could do nothing about it as he hurried over to Prowl.

"Hey, com'mon." he pat his mate's hand, rubbing it the way he had rubbed the sparkling in hopes of reviving Prowl.

He bit his lip as the oil and energon turned to simply energon, pooling out beneath the mech. He rubbed his chin, completely unsure of what to do. The femmeling crying in the background didn't help his flustered nerves any either. He grabbed the top of his helm in a full out frenzy. A steady beeping caused him to whirl around to the monitor. He grabbed up the sparkling, quieting her once again. She squirmed and gurgled impatiently, hungry and cold.

"Easy, li'l' Zero." Jazz mumbled, stroking the lopsided 'O' on her chassis.

He slammed a closed fist down on the flashing red button, showing an incoming message.

'This is Autobot Brawn to Autobot ship. Do you read me, over?'

A calm began to cover up all the fear in Jazz's spark, most of it anyways. "Brawn, it's Jazz! I read ya loud 'n clear. Over."

'Jazz?' Brawn asked in disbelief. 'Am I glad to hear you. You need an assist? Over.'

"Not as glad as meh." Jazz stated with shuttered optics and a vent, clutching Zero close. "Yeah, yeah we need some help. Over."

''We' who else is with you?' Brawn asked. 'Over.'

Jazz chuckled a bit, looking at the tiny sparkling currently trying to eat her thin, little digits. "One bot ya won't know. The other's..." he paused, looking back at the unconscious mech on the berth. "The other's Prowl. Tell meh ya got a good med-kit with ya. Over."

'Yeah, we do. Someone hurt?' Brawn asked. 'Over' he added after a klik.

"Yeah, kinda." Jazz nodded. "How soon can ya get 'ere?"

Brawn waited for Jazz's signal of having finished speaking. When it never came, he spoke. 'We have you in our scanner's. ETA...ten breems, if we push it. Over'

"Good." Jazz commed. "Keep talkin', wanna make sure Ah don' lose ya. Who's with ya'? Over."

'Picked up an Aireal, Silverbolt. 'Brawn stated. 'And Huffer.'

Jazz smirked despite himself at the name of the cranky mini-bot. He had given Prowl a run for his credits during their time at Headquarters, groons ago. He smirked, noticing just now that he had lost count of the orns long ago.

'Get ready for docking.' Brawn warned him as a small ship neared the pod, making the already small pod look even tinier.

Loud clicks and bangs sounded through the pod as and ship met in an extended passway, strong magnets holding both in place. The distinct hydraulic hissing of a door, and then the electronic beeping of a keypad told of the others closeness as they boarded the pod.

"Jazz, it's good to-" Brawn stopped mid-sentence, stupefied and entirely fixated on the squawking bundle in Jazz's servos.

"Jus' take 'er." Jazz ordered, thrusting the sparkling at the mini-bot.

Brawn shifted quickly, cradling the loose helm and limp frame in his servos. He stammered stupidly, looking at the gray sparkling and then back at the Polyhexian. She was so small, and shivered and crowed for attention and warmth.

"Hey, Bolt." Jazz motioned over the large mech. "Help meh get Prowler onto yer ship."

"Yes, sir." Silverbolt replied. He eyed the unconscious Praxian, but never questioned a thing. It wasn't his place.

Huffer, who had taken his time in crossing the short threshold, held his glossa as he looked about the small pod. He opened his mouth to speak, and shut it once again like a land stranded fish.

"If ya ain't gonna help, get outta the way." Jazz warned the purple and yellow mini-bot, who only nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry, little one." Brawn said gently to the crying, hungry femmeling. "Let's get you situated and settled, hmm?"


"Jazz, sit down before you fall down." Brawn ordered, staring down the emaciated, visored mech who was currently working on wearing a hole through the ship's floor.

"Ah'm fine." Jazz brushed him off, waving his hand floppily.

"Jazz, you look like the bots we used to let out of Con reformation camps." Brown argued, grabbing hold of the twice-his-size mech and tugging him towards a seat. "Prowl will be fine, and Bolt is feeding your sparkling."

Jazz vented as he flopped down ungracefully into the seat. He smirked a bit as a warm cube of low grade was pressed into his hands. "Ah don' really look tha' bad now, do Ah?"

Brawn vented, rising on his pedes before going flat footed once again. "Well, you certainly don't look good. Drink that slow, too. Don't want you purging it all over the place."

Jazz rolled his optics as he took a sip of it. Their rations had been so small on the pod that it barely charged them for a few joor. This low grade felt as if it was giving him a buzz, one that before the Exodus could have only been obtained with a few cubes of High Grade.

His helm jerked upwards as a strangled cry reached his audios. Silverbolt bounced the femmeling, looking very flustered as he tried to calm her down.

"Lemme see 'er." Jazz motioned at the Aerial.

"I just can't seem to get her to eat." Silverbolt stated sheepishly as he deposited the sparkling and small cube into her sire's hands.

Jazz clicked his glossa a bit, getting the femmlings attention only a breem before wailing again. He tried pouring a bit of the warm fluid into her mouth. Too distressed to eat, though, it only dribbled down her vibrating chin. Jazz shook his helm.

"She knows Ah ain't Prowler..." he trailed off, glancing towards the still frame of his mate. If he looked even half as thin, haggard, and worn as Prowl did, he could see why Brawn was concerned.

"Do you think you'd be able to carry her over there?" Silverbolt asked, realizing the mech's intentions.

Jazz scowled. "Ah ain't made o' porcelin, ya know."

"We know." Brawn lay a hand on his servo. "But you do need to take it slow, get your strength back."

"I don't know if it'll help anything..." Huffer drawled in his typical, wining tone. "But I think there's a stool of something in storage."

"Then go get it!" Brawn exclaimed, more or less scolding the mech for his insolence. After the purple mech was without earshot, Brawn smirked. "He's been trying, in his own, odd way."

Jazz smirked, bouncing the fussy sparkling a bit. "Jus' how'd the three o' ya end up all the way out 'ere, anyways?" he asked.

"We received the 'all clear' from the Prime a few groons back." Brawn stated, tapping his pede a bit in impatience. Just where was that mini-mech, anyways? "Huffer and I escaped with a few other mini-bot, but we all got separated. After the comm. from Optimus, we returned to find we were the only in our squad to return so far. We got our hands on a ship, and went out to look for them, or any stragglers like you."

Jazz smirked a bit. He pointed with a single digit at the Aerial. "An' Bolt?"

"Same as us, got separated from his brothers." Brawn stated.

"I entered a stasis pod, by mistake." Silverbolt reddened a bit. It had been the Pit trying to stay together with his brothers, and that much harder to get a pod.

Jazz nodded, stroking Zero's servo a bit. It was so very small and thin. They all were. They were so very lucky in having been found. He brightened a bit after putting the scenario through his HUD.

Chances of survival-Zero-92% and increasing.

No need to see his and Prowl's, especially Prowl's. He didn't want to see his mate's, who he could feel faintly through the bond.

"I got it, it was all the way in the back." Huffer stated as the stool was placed next to the berth Prowl occupied.

"Thanks." Jazz said gratefully as he rose, surprised at his own unsteadiness, to sit again.

"Let me take her." Brawn demanded, pointing at himself with his digits. "If you fall, at least you won't take her with you."

Jazz shot daggers at the mini-bot with his visor, but gave her up anyways. He was only happy once again when he was comfortably seated on the three-legged stool, his sparking once again in his grip.

"Give them some room." Brawn ordered in a low, but still demanding voice as he dragged Huffer with him.

Jazz smirked a bit, until her turned towards his mate. He shifted the sparkling into one servo, using his free hand to take Prowl's spindly digits into his own. Primus, he felt like glass. He jerked back when Prowl shifted, as if afraid of shattering him. Lazily, the blue optics started to slide open, a venting moan from his lips.

"Prowler?" Jazz asked lowly, careful not to startle him. "It's okay, we're safe now."

"What hap'ned?" Prowl murmured, slowly turning hazy optics towards his mate.

Jazz shook his helm, not entirely sure what was wrong with Prowl himself. "Nothin', 'kay? Yer jus' drained from havin' Zero. Brawn picked up our signal, and now we're goin' back ta Cybertron."

Prowl hummed a bit, slowly sifting through the information. He paused, one bit of data standing out like a neon mech in a sea of gray. "Zero?"

The Polyhexian chuckled, moving to let his mate see the sparkling. "A femme, Prowler. Ah've been callin' 'er Zero cuz she's got one o' mah numbers." the mech motioned with his free hand to the red '04' on his chassis.

"I thought designations were supposed to be discussed." Prowl stated tiredly, his systems threating to put him into recharge again. Or stasis.

"Fine, ya can change it if ya wan'." Jazz smirked. He held her up, letting her pedes dangle and the blanket slip into his lap. "What she look like to ya?"

Prowl frowned. "Don't hold her like that." he let his thin digits brush over her frame as she was settled beside her, for once calm and curios of her surroundings. "She looks like..." Prowl muttered.

"Wha' was tha'?" The Polyhexian smirked triumphantly.

"Zero." Prowl replied dryly. "Has she been fed yet?"

Jazz shook his helm. "Nope. Been tryin' ta, she jus' won't take it."

"Let me try." Prowl said, struggling to sit up.

"Are ya sure?" Jazz asked, rising quickly to help prop the mech up.

"May I have the cube?" Prowl more demanded then asked as he cradled his sparkling.

"Here." a purple mini-bot said out of nowhere, a cube of warm low grade in his hands.

Jazz quirked an optic ridge as he accepted it. Huffer with a soft spot for sparklings. Who knew, right?

Brawn frowned from across the room as he noticed a lack of company beside him. "Huffer! I told you to leave them alone!" he shouted across the room.

"I was only trying to help!" Huffer returned. "Primus, you're always telling me to help out, but when I do-"

"Cool it and get your aft back over here." Brawn ordered, orange servos over his brown chassis.

Huffer slumped in defeat and sulked back to the control panel. Jazz chuckled a bit as he shifted the cube in his hands a moment. A fussing cry turned his attention back to his mate and sparkling beside him.

"Lemme help ya." Jazz offered, sliding behind Prowl and cradling the Praxian's servos in his own. He looked so weak and tired, barely able to hold himself up let alone a sparkling.

Prowl didn't say anything, but looked smug as the femme not only accepted, but chugged the energon from the cube Prowl held. Jazz leaned towards his audios, his warm vents tickling his neck.

"We went through the Exodus, Prowler." he whispered. "Get ready for the Gospel."


Author's Note- 'Exodus' means 'to go out from' or 'to leave' (See- Exodus in the Bible, when Moses led the enslaved Jews from Egypt to the Promised Land) 'Gospel' means literally 'Good News' (See- Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John of the Bible) Also 'C.Q.D' is a real morse code signal standing for 'Come Quick, Danger'. The Titanic sent out many CQD's before becoming the first ship to use the famous (or infamous) SOS. If the book I read was correct, anyways!

Shout out to Nikkie2010 for beta-ing this! Thank you ever so much in helping me improve in writing (and school!)

Thank you to all who reviewed last chapter! I don't have good internet access, but if I could thank all of you in turn I would! Ya'll know who you are, right?

A bit angsty, like the last chapter, but this ties in with Ratchet's Sick Days, so this just explains one of the later chapter in it.

Big thank you to Autobot Dragonfly for the use of her OC Zero! Zero is now in DeviantArt for any of you who wish to see it, drawn by Dragonfly herself. She's there under the same username if you look her up!

At Dragon- Femme, we need to get back on our RPGs! So sorry about leaving you hanging so often! You-me-Howrse? :)