Authoress's Notes: Okay, um -- *snerk* -- you obviously think enough of me to have opened this ridiculously titled monstrosity, so I'm sure you'll allow me to, um... *snort* explain myself. *cracks a rib trying to hold in laughter*

This started as a crack prompt over on a Livejournal community. Someone -- who shall remain nameless but whom I adore -- was watching Cinderella III and put up a prompt for a Jazzerella fic, where Jazz was Cinderella, Prowl Prince Charming, Prime the Fairy Godmother, ect. I, being the idiot I am, looked at the prompt for a total of eight seconds and had a full-fledged and totally serious story outlined.

So... here goes nothing.

The orn was bright and warm, the magnificent skyline of Iacon crisp and clear against the morning sun. Cybertron seemed unable to rest; the city was already bustling with activity despite the early joor. A bot couldn't help but smile at the orn and the atmosphere it brought.

And yet Jazz wept.

He had been dreaming again. Dreaming of home, of family, of a time when he was happy. Not remembering – no, all those things were too far in the past for memory to serve – but dreaming. It was a blissful thing, a much-needed escape from his world.

But dreams had to end sometime. No one could forever delay the return to reality.

Jazz rolled over, staring up at the ceiling and sighing heavily through his vents. It had been a good dream. He had been with his creators, sitting around the table in their home, talking and drinking their evening energon. If he shuttered his optics tightly, he could almost make out their faces.

Having almost forgotten just what had woken him from recharge, Jazz opened his optics in surprise as Starscream called him again.

"Get you aft off that berth and get us our energon!"

With another forlorn sigh of his intakes, Jazz sat up and scooted to the edge of his berth. He rubbed the remnants of coolant from his optics, reaching blindly for his visor on his side table. It was not where he left it. Pulling his hands away, using what little sight he had left, he searched about the floor of his tiny room, patting along the cold surface in case his faulty eyes missed it. It was not there.

Jazz sat back on his heels, mild irritation turning into resigned credence. He knew where it was.

He stood, crossing the short distance to the door in just two steps. Feeling along the walls of the narrow hall as guidance, he descended the stairs through the darkness into the main house, heading straight for the kitchen once he reached the bottom.

"Give it back, guys," he demanded upon entering and recognizing the forms of Thundercracker and Skywarp sitting at a small table. The pair snickered.

"Give what back?" Skywarp asked, tone of voice one of feigned innocence.

"Yeah," his brother added stupidly. "Give you what back?"

"My visor," Jazz sighed. After nearly a lifetime of the game, he'd grown weary of it. "Just give it back, a'ight?"

"Your what?" Even without it, Jazz could see the wide, malicious grin on Skywarp's faceplates. Fortunately, Starscream chose that moment to walk into the room.

"Where's my energon, you lazy, good-for-nothing little glitch?" he snarled at Jazz, who merely sighed for what felt like the millionth time in his life.

"I can't find it," the black and white mech said, turning around and to show his benefactor just why that was so. Knowing the Seeker was particularly stupid, though, he added aloud, "Sky-dork an' Dunder-cracker took my visor... again."

Starscream sneered at Jazz's impudence, but nonetheless turned to his brothers and snapped, "Give it back to the glitch, you fraggers, unless you want to do his chores today!"

Scowling darkly, Skywarp pulled the desired object from subspace and threw it on the ground near Jazz's feet. Glad the game would not be an orn-long event this time, Jazz quickly stooped down to retrieve it. Starscream kicked at his aft, sending the little mech sprawling face first onto the floor.

"And you," he hissed, "watch your vocalizor."

Skywarp and Thundercracker laughed unpleasantly as Jazz got to his feet. They rose from the table, following their elder brother from the kitchen and into the adjoining sitting area, where they would await their morning energon.

Jazz sighed as they left. He felt along his visor, grimacing as he noticed yet another small chink in its form, a new addition granted by its latest abuse from the Seeker bothers. He clicked it into place, hiding his glitched optics from view. As the room slowly came into focus, he began moving about, preparing the overdue energon for the awaiting trio, sighing sadly to himself every now and again.

He didn't know why it always surprised him. This was his life, orn in and orn out. Nothing ever changed. He would never be treated like an equal – his position in the house would always be more like a servant than the adopted step-sibling that he was. And yet, every orn, he would wake to the cries of his patrons, in his tiny attic room, expecting his few belongings to be where they left them, expecting to walk downstairs and be greeted with, if not words of courtesy, at least more than a sneer of disgust. And yet, every orn, nothing would come with the dawn save continual disappointment.

Vorns ago, he'd discovered a way to make it through each agonizing orn.

Whenever he was alone, he would dream.

He would dream of his creators. He would invent the sire he never knew, try to recall the mother he knew only briefly. He would imagine he still lived with them, happy and carefree, that he still had someone who loved him. He would think of anything and everything to avoid reality.

And then Starscream would call, and he would sigh.