Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance - Intro

Transformers (G1) Verse
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jazz and a wee bit of Optimus Prime

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor do I make money writing about them. Hence why I still enjoy doing so.

Warnings: Angst, angst and a little more angst. Not so happy Jazz.

A/N: This story came from a slightly darker thought bunny that decided to maul me while I was stuck on "To Seduce a Porsche". It takes place after TF:TM, after Optimus Prime is back and kicking. Besides that, this is pretty AU, so please bear with me. Even in the darkest moments, hope can be found.

Thoughts = Blah

My eyes are open wide

By the way I made it through the day

I watch the world outside

By the way I'm leaving out today

Shinedown – Second Chance

The climb back to consciousness was a difficult one, but Jazz was never known to give up when presented with a challenge. Slowly, basic processes began to online, one after another. His sensors were some of the first to start up due to the former saboteur's own hacking of his systems so long ago to better suit his occupation. Something that Ratchet had never gotten over, but begrudgingly had agreed to leave alone even though he could always count on a dark look aimed at him during routine maintenance.

A quick sensor sweep was executed without thought—more by habit than anything else, as the black and white waited for error messages to clear and his ROM to provide an update. Initial scans showed he was alone and…upside down? Optics final powered up, Jazz found that indeed he was still strapped in rather precariously to the Captain's chair of his shuttle and what was once up was now down. The top hull of the shuttle was sharply dented in and partially torn in multiple spots, more than likely from a great impact. Like a crash landing. Jazz couldn't help, but muse to himself.

Finally feeling a little more in control of his chassis, one black servo fumbled around for a minute before finding the lock for the safety harness and disengaging it. The landing wasn't exactly his usual 10.0, but there were no new dents added to his helm and Jazz found himself thankful for even that small measure. Now correctly upright, the Porsche took in the interior space of his ship. The small cruiser had definitely seen better days and although it was made for space travel, it was definitely not made for reentry. Something that Jazz surprisingly realized that he had not even thought of when borrowing the craft. Just another of many signs that the former saboteur was no longer his old self and had been right to do what he had done.

Memories assaulted his CPU before he could begin to catalogue the damage done to the vessel and he had to stifle a cry as it all poured out in unrelenting waves of disorganized data. The utter darkness and silence of space, Earth a distant spec in the view screen and then gone forever from his sight along with those that he had left behind, a jarring departure from the Milky Way Galaxy and its star and then he was rocketing into the beyond with no destination in mind, time passing with no measure as he simply drifted in space. His last memory was of some unknown debris breaching his small ship's hull and the gravity of a nearby planet pulling the wreckage down to its icy surface with reckless abandon, more than likely leaving Jazz in his current state.

Hunched over, the black and white waited for the pain associated with those memories to abate before he wearily straightened out and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. It sported a Cybertronian fist-sized dent that he could not recall had been there moments ago. Strange. Jazz couldn't remember punching the wall. A quick glance at the back of his right servo confirmed it though, as a few of the joints were misaligned and the bright pink of energon contrasted strongly against the deep black of his fingertips. Releasing a great draft of air, Jazz pulled a rag from his subspace and absently cleaned off the fluid.

This was another reason that he had thought it best to cut and run. The stress that his emotional circuits were under had only increased exponentially since that fateful day when he discovered that those who had meant the most to him were now gone. Brief moments of time were "blank" in his memory banks and he would find himself somewhere doing something that he could not recall.

If Ratchet had been there, he would have visited the surly bot in his medbay and gotten a scan and an audio full about taking care of himself.

If Ironhide was around, he could have commiserated with the mech over a cube of high-grade after shift and found acceptance in his actions.

If Wheeljack could be found, he would have distracted him and raised his spirits with an enthusiastic explanation of the inventor's latest creation.

If Prowl was there…

Prowl.

Primus he missed that mech. More than anyone else, perhaps even Prime, Prowl had meant so much to him. And I never told him. His spark ached at that last thought.

That alone was why he couldn't remain on Earth any longer. Too many painful memories of the times he had spent in the other's company and how he had felt so whole and perfectly balanced during those moments.

It had been during the twilight hours when Jazz had approached the door of his previously-former and now once-again commander. Optimus had been working late as he often had to. No longer was there a Second who could keep order amongst his Autobots, as well as filter the day's information so that only the most pertinent items graced the Prime's desk. Jazz felt no remorse for him, just more sadness.

"Optimus."

The mech had looked up, slightly startled. Jazz had offered a wane smile to his commander. The saboteur often forgot how quietly he moved compared to the other bots around him.

"Jazz? What can I do for you? You are not currently on shift, right?"

Shaking his head in agreement, the black and white took a deep breath and girded himself for his next and last words to the other bot.

"Optimus. I have served you and the Autobots for nearly my entire life cycle. I have done my best to be the mech that you needed me to be for both you and the bots under you. I have never walked away from anything that was laid before me in all of my days and I regret none of my actions as an Autobot."

Here, he paused to steady his vocalizer for what was to come next. The blue and red mech looked about to interrupt, so he raised a hand to stop him and to finish before he lost whatever nerve he had left.

"I can't do it anymore, Prime. I've lost too much. I don't see anything waiting for me at the end of this war that can possibly keep me going. It's…hard to be around the others. Bluestreak, Mirage, the twins, Bumblebee…all of them. I can't smile no more Optimus. And I can't be that mech that I was anymore. He's dead and I am not that far behind. So, what I am asking you—as both friend and as your subordinate—is to be released from my duties to you and the Autobots. I need to leave, but I didn't want to do so without telling you. I owed you this much, Prime."

Quietly, Jazz finished and stared at the scuffed tips of his pedes. He did not want to meet his commander's gaze, both afraid of what he would find there and afraid that he would lose the will to carry through on his desired action. His fuel pump pounded loudly in his audios as he waited for the other to hand down judgment.

There was the creak and groan of gears shifting and pistons pushing off, but he did not look up until a heavy servo clasped his shoulder. Startled, he looked up and met the Prime's sad gaze and couldn't help the rush of shame he felt for wanting to abandon his teammates.

"Jazz." The larger mech intoned solemnly. "Do not feel badly for asking for this."

Surprised, the smaller mech's optics flared and somehow he was sure that the Prime was smiling gently at him from behind his mask.

"I understand that out of all who were involved with the war with Unicron and Galvatron, your loss has been substantial. It grieves me to have lost so many good mechs and femmes to this war and it pains me to see you slowly pulling away. I do not want you to leave, but I do wish for you to find whatever peace that you can, Jazz. If you feel that you must go, then please do so with my blessing. Just know that I will always be here for you and there are many others who will as well."

Overwhelmed by emotion, Jazz struggled to respond to the mech that he had dedicated his life to serving. Tried his best to say something…anything to convey his gratitude for everything. All that he could manage was a tight nod as he battled to not lose control of himself there in that suddenly too small office.

Seeming to understand the saboteur's inner turmoil, the Prime returned his nod with one of his own before squeezing his shoulder plating once and releasing him. Gracefully moving back to the seat behind his massive desk, Jazz took that as a dismissal and turned to leave. Just as he had palmed open the door, the Prime's voice stopped him.

"Jazz?"

Without turning, he answered. "Yes, sir?"

"It's Optimus now, Jazz. Will you tell the others?"

Thinking on it for a moment, he had to shake his head in denial. He could not face them.

"Very well. Just remember that we will be here if you need us my friend."

"Thank you, Optimus." Throwing a wave over his shoulder, he did his best to leave as some semblance of his old self. "See ya around boss bot."

And with that, the former Third-in-Command to the Autobots took the first personal shuttle that he could find in one of Autobot City's hangars and fled to the starry sky that he had once fallen from so long ago.

A/N: So…love it/hate it? Please let me know. Feedback feeds my bunnies and makes them stronger. Wait. Maybe that isn't a good thing. O_O