Author's Note: Here's my contribution to the Valentine's Day Fanfiction Collection!

Pairing: Jazz/Prowl

Setting: Cybertron, post-war.

Song: One Life by Hedley

"Song text"

Memories


Jazz shuttered his optics in pain. The medics had just come to deliver the final verdict. His best friend and mate, the 'bot who had been there for him, even if it hadn't seemed like it sometimes, was going to go offline from a deadly virus. What was worse was that they were planning on being bonded sometime soon.

Why, Primus? Why?! He vented shakily, burying his faceplates in his servos. Willing the tears to not come. He'd held it together through thick and thin, hiding his grief at the loss of his creators and sister. Jazz had lasted through numerous battles, the images of slaughtered innocents staining his memory files and haunting his processor. But this loss was proving to be too much for the upbeat saboteur. He composed himself as best he could, though he wasn't as good at that as his intended was. Jazz lifted his helm and looked at the medic who had come out.

"Can Ah go see 'im?" Jazz asked softly. The medic nodded, standing to one side to allow Jazz into the small room. The sterile white walls flashed past the former-TIC as he strode into the room, for what he feared would be the last time. The faint beeping of the monitor rang in Jazz's audios like a death sentence. Catching sight of the weak frame lying on the berth, Jazz almost turned around and walked back out for fear of seeing the mech so weak. But he had to be strong. He squared his shoulders and went to the berth's side.

The familiar face of Prowl, weakened from his fight with the virus, lifted and brightened a little when he saw Jazz. The former-SIC tried to sit up, his joints popping at the sudden strain. Jazz placed a servo on Prowl's chestplates and lightly pushed him back down.

"Don' strain yaself," Jazz murmured, barely audible to anybot who wasn't within five feet of them.

"Do not worry Jazz," Prowl replied, stopping to cough harshly for a moment. "Movement won't further progress anything."

"Still," Jazz said, sitting lightly on the edge of the berth with his back to the door. He was no longer worried about anybot walking in on them. The war was over, and the autobots had triumphed. But fate had to be cruel and rip the war veterans apart. A frown graced Jazz's features as he was lost in his thoughts once again, and he was wrenched back down when Prowl lightly stroked the side of his faceplates.

"You look better when you smile," Prowl whispered. Jazz grinned a little. Prowl always knew how to wring that grin out of him. "There it is," the tactician smiled, letting his helm connect to the pillow with a soft groan.

"Wha's wrong?" Jazz asked immediately, searching for any source of discomfort that could be harming his intended.

"Nothing, just tired," Prowl said, his optics dimming.

"Don' go inta recha'ge on meh jus' yet," Jazz said, a hint of a warning on the edge of his voice. "Ah migh' not evah see ya again." He broke off, shuttering his optics to cut off the tears that threatened to surface again. Once again, a servo stroked at his cheekplates, making him online his watery optics from instinct. Prowl was looking at him again.

"Jazz, I will not make it past this lunar cycle," Prowl said, making the saboteur frown. "I do not know how I know this, I just do. Please, do not attempt to follow me to the Well. You still have time left to live. I will wait for you at the gates. Even if it takes you another hundred vorn to get there."

Jazz captured the servo that was still connected to his faceplates within his own. He wrapped his other servo around Prowl's as well, clasping onto the tactician's servo as though he would never let go.

"I will meet you there," Jazz swore, dropping his accent for the moment. "Even if I have to chase you through a hundred lifetimes, I will meet you again." He lowered himself to Prowl's level, letting their forehelms touch. The two 'bots looked deeply into each other's optics savoring the moment. Their lips connected for a moment, letting the compassion they shared for reach other flow freely through the contact. Then Jazz backed off, as though he sensed Prowl's weariness.

"I love you," Prowl whispered, letting his servo fall from Jazz's grasp as the silver 'bot stood up.

"I love you, too sweetspark," Jazz replied, retreating to the door and dimming the lights for his companion. The last thing he saw was Prowl smiling as he offlined his optics for a stasis-nap.


A sudden clatter from the main-hole in his door, shook Jazz from stasis. He stood up from the sofa, dropping his empty cube that had contained high-grade, stretched, and strode over to the data pad that had fallen onto the floor. He picked it up and onlined it with a frown, noting it was from the Iacon hospital.

Dear Jazz, it read. We regret to inform you that the patient Prowl went offline last lunar cycle...

Jazz didn't bother to read anymore, plopping back down onto the sofa as tears decorated his optics. He shuttered them for a moment, letting the tears fall freely. Nobot was here to see, anyways. The data pad slid from his hand and fell to the floor once more, evoking another clatter. Jazz ignored the noise, letting his helm fall backwards in a way that would have had Ratchet screaming at him for the chance of snapping his neck. But Jazz didn't care. Even though he knew this was coming, Jazz still felt as though his spark was being torn in two.

A noise drew his attention away from his misery.

"Jazz!" a voice said. Said 'bot lifted his helm again. It couldn't be. That was Prowl's voice. Didn't the data say he was offline? Jazz looked at the data again, surprised to see it glowing. Hitting the floor twice had knocked something loose, causing it to play a video that had been pre-recorded. Wiping at his optics to clear them, Jazz bent down to retrieve the data, almost dropping it again to see Prowl's face on the screen.

"Jazz," the recording began. "If you are watching this, then I am obviously no longer with you. I just wanted to let you know that I love you. No doubt you will be mourning me as you did your creators." The face on the screen had a small smile on it. Jazz shuttered his optics in surprise. He hadn't told anyone about that, not even Prowl. "Yes, I could see how upset you were. Nobot else seemed to notice, but when you thought nobot was looking, you would sink back into your stupor. Don't do that for me Jazz. We will meet again, I promise. You still have life, so enjoy Cybertron while you still can. Bring some memories to me in the Well." The smirk was back again. "This might help you."

Soft sounds began emanating from the data, growing into the music of a song that was obviously from Earth. Jazz wondered when Prowl had picked this up. He didn't know that the former-SIC had liked music.

"One life. Oh woah, one life," a male singer crooned, catching Jazz's attention. A small smile found its way onto Jazz's mouth plates as tears welled in his optics again. Memories began to surface as the song went on.

Prowl and Jazz stood outside the entrance to the decepticon base, backs to the wall as they scouted for anybot who might sneak up on their small group that was inside, looking for Optimus, who had been taken hostage.

"Five minutes too late, it's time to get loud."

A series of explosions caught their attention, meaning help was on its way. The rest of the group came racing out of the base, carrying a half-conscious Optimus between them. Jazz and Prowl looked at each other, then transformed and took off after the group.

"'Cause we've been up when we should've been sleeping,"

Back at base, Jazz stood awkwardly in Prowl's office. How do I tell him my feelings? Jazz thought. A few breems later, they were sprawled on Prowl's berth, recovering from an intense make-out session. Jazz had found out that Prowl felt the same way that he did.

"We've been down when we could've been high. We'll come alive, tonight."

Jazz onlined his optics to see early-morning light filtering through Prowl's window. Who knew that Prowl could be so intense?

"If it's the last night in these streets, you'd be a fool to take a seat."

Jazz strode through the moon-lit street of Praxus, ignoring the few passerby who stopped long enough to gaze at him. He didn't know that doing a mission in Praxus would be so hard, especially when he'd have to find his own quarters. Being the procrastinating 'bot he was, Jazz had slacked off, resulting in having no roof over his helm for the night. He sighed, thinking about recharging in a doorway for the lunar cycle. Noticing the mechs around him, he decided not to. It was too risky.

All of a sudden, Jazz sensed somebot behind him. He ducked, narrowly avoiding a dagger that zoomed past his shoulder. The saboteur spun around, adopting a defensive stance to take on the mech that had tried to offline him. Instead he saw a mech at his feet, offline. A black and white doorwinger was standing over the unconscious mech, his servo balled into a fist. He sent a quick look at Jazz. "Need a place to stay for the night?" Later, Jazz found out his savior's designation was Prowl...

"You got one life, one life. Don't stop, don't stop live it up."

Jazz victoriously rose over the 'bot he'd been sparring, looking at his observers. Prowl sent Jazz a spark-melting grin when nobot else was looking, promising a lunar cycle full of fun.

The music slowly faded off, ending with the saying of 'live it up'. Jazz's optics slowly let the room back into view, falling back onto the data. Prowl's face was still on the screen, smiling softly. "I love you, Jazz. Never forget that." Then the data went dark.

Jazz's optics stared at the screen for about a breem afterwards, still processing Prowl's message. His optics misted over once again.

He would stay strong and live still. For his Prowl.