I fully blame/dedicate this story to Sarielgrace who has helped me break my writer's block. Enjoy this fluff fest of drabbles.

This story is set in an alternate universe with a major change. But that's spoilers so shhh.

Disclaimer: If you didn't figure out that this is by now there is no hope for you. Only time I'm saying on this fic. I. Do. No. Own. Transformers. Thank you for your patronage and have a nice day.


1: Guilt

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Jazz stood before his oldest friend and Prime, his once white plating blackened and coated in ash and crusted on flecks of energon, his visor cracked and dim. The saboteur wouldn't look up from the random patch of flooring that he had chosen to to stare at.

"Jazz." Optimus said quietly as he reached out to put a hand on the smaller mechs shoulder, only to pause as Jazz flinched back from the offered comfort. "You can't blame yourself."

"Two." Jazz bit the glyph out. "Only two made it out of that catastrophe. I should have tried harder to stop that pit spawned glitch."

"You did everything you could."

A tear slipped from under the visor. "Optimus… I started the initial attack…" Jazz whispered in the quiet room. "I'm the one that released those parachute bombs."

The Prime hmmed before asking, "Did any of them kill anymech?"

Jazz shook his helm. "They were just a distraction to cover the initial air raid. But I might as well been the one to kill them."

Optimus caught Jazz's chin in his hand, raising his friend's face to meet his own. "You did all that you could."

"But-"

"Jazz. Tell me who did the newspark claim as it's guardian?"

"Me. Optimus… I tried to give him to the femme's he won't accept them… in fact he wouldn't let go of me…" Jazz nodded his helm backwards over his shoulder.

Optimus frowned slightly as he looked his friend over before noting the small grey lump that was magnetically clung to the saboteur's back. A soft smile lit the Prime's lips. "And you still doubt yourself? Perhaps, if you cannot trust my judgment, perhaps you could trust his."

Any word that had been on Jazz's glossa died away at the sound of a tiny chirp from the sparkling who nestled tighter against him. He sighed, the tension in his frame easing as he gave a tired defeated sigh.

"I hate it when you are right."

"I know old friend. I know."