There's a weight in my heart

Could you be my alchemist

Heavy metals in the dark

Could you make some sense of it?

There's a weight on my soul

Aching for a golden kiss

With a love I can't control

With a love I can't resist

I need a quick fix

I don't wanna feel this

Come into my arms

Make everything all right

Chase you deep into the unknown

In the dark

In the dark

You're the spark

Spark~Digital Daggers

oOo

Jazz's fingers twitched.

The movement was small, but Ratchet's tired optics caught it. A foot twitched and then his whole leg. Rubbing his face Ratchet approached the recharging mech with care. None of them ever knew how Jazz would wake from his nightmares. He'd already told First Aid he wasn't to even attempt it unless a senior medic or Solaris was with him. Jazz's breath left him in a hot gust and his hand twitched again. A snarl twitched his lip and he curled up a bit more, protecting his vulnerable abdere from phantom assailants.

"Jazz," Ratchet said softly. He didn't touch him. Solaris was the only one fast enough to avoid knives and claws. "Jazz, you're onboard the Ark. You're safe." He kept his voice soft, soothing. Jazz could recognize his voice even in recharge. It was usually enough to pull him out of the nightmare enough he could wake up on his own. "Jazz, you're in recharge Jazz. No one is going to hurt you." Jazz's body flinched hard enough his claws skittered across the berth. Optics still foggy with nightmare finally fluttered open. He lifted his head still fighting to leave whatever horrors stalked his mind. "Jazz," Ratchet said again, keeping his voice soft. He still kept his distance as Jazz struggled to separate reality from memory.

"Ratchet?" he whispered in a rough voice. Exhaustion marked every line of Jazz's frame. Ratchet didn't think anyone would recognize him. If he was of a mind to let anyone see the battered Polyhexian, which he was not. The crew could grumble all they Pit well pleased, Jazz wasn't himself and Ratchet wasn't going to add the stress of visitors to the mech. The wound in his chest wasn't healing as fast as it should be and continued to leave the normally peppy Polyhexian tired from pain. The nightmares that refused to give him peace for even a joor sapped what little energy food gave him. Ratchet stepped closer and pressed the back of his hand against Jazz's forehead. The fever that came and went as his body struggled to heal was coming back.

The frigid temperature of the An'Shar settlement was—somehow—keeping Prowl stable, but the cold was killing for Polyhexians. No matter how much Jazz wanted to stay with Prowl, he couldn't. Even the healthy Polyhexians; Solaris, Envy, and Plunder had spent an entire orn in the washracks soaking in steaming water to shake off the effects of the cold. Jazz was sparkling weak and healing.

"Are you thirsty, Jazz?" Ratchet asked already reaching for a nearby canister. Jazz nodded slowly as if the motion took too much strength. And it very well might have. Since they'd brought him down from the frigid mountain he had hardly eaten and Ratchet didn't think he recharged more than a few breems before the nightmares pounced on him. Water though, he always accepted so Ratchet's worry hovered just below the redline. Jazz drank three cups and then lay down again, optics rolling back a little as exhaustion forced him under once more. Ratchet stayed with him watching him with optics and scanners.

Five breems passed and he dared to hope Jazz's mind had fully succumbed to his battered body and he wouldn't be troubled by nightmares for a joor. He let tension bleed from his shoulders as Jazz's intakes stayed slow and steady and his body remained still. He took three silent steps back from the berth so whatever latent sensors Jazz had wouldn't interpret his presence as a threat. Two more breems passed and Ratchet took his first easy breath in a septorn.

Jazz's fingers twitched.

Ratchet almost threw the cup and bit back a scream and a growl. Tilting his head back he forced himself to breathe slowly. Sudden noise wouldn't help the situation at all. If Jazz woke up ready to fight someone would get hurt. Ratchet purposefully set the cup down before the temptation to rage got the better of him. Rubbing his face with both hands he curled his fingers and dragged them down his face. Jazz made a quiet sound, a rare moment when remembered pain and fear couldn't be expressed by the sporadic movement of his body.

"Jazz." Ratchet's voice broke a little on those four letters. "Jazz, wake up. You're onboard the Ark, you're safe." Jazz's head twitched like he was trying to shake off the sound. His claws scraped against the berth. "Jazz, you're in recharge. You're safe, no one is going to hurt you." Jazz made another small sound and then gasped. His optics fluttered open and his breaths became ragged, as if he'd been running. He rolled partway onto his back and then curled on his side again. Optics so dark they were almost black struggled to stay open. "Jazz," Ratchet said softly. "Wake up, you were having a nightmare."

"Ratchet?"

Ratchet's scanners picked up the miniscule rise of Jazz's temperature. It was a slow climb, but he still needed to get a few ice packs ready. Once it picked up steam it spiked dangerously and they needed to be ready to get it down quickly. "Are you thirsty, Jazz?"

The Polyhexian nodded once and forced himself to sit up. Ratchet picked up the cup again, fingers denting the thin metal. Jazz only drank one cup and dropped down strutless, optics rolling back. His breathing stayed a little rough, but regular. Ratchet put the cup down and crossed his arms watching the Polyhexian.

Jazz's fingers twitched.

oOo

A/N: *Confetti cannon* Here it is!

If you thought Jazz angst was over, I've got some terrible news for you. Or maybe it's great news; I'm not judging.

Anyway, strap in because the sequel has launched! Thank you for Reading/Reviewing/Following/Favoriting!