Authors: pjlover666 and silberstreif

Title: There's always a chance

Warnings: Torture (the bad kind) and character death. You are warned.

Disclaimer: TF doesn't belong to us. We just love to play with it a lot!

Collaboration with silberstreif!

Chapter One

Guardian

The mech slumped in his restrains, gasping much needed air through ruined vents. He glared blearily at his torturer, refusing to give them the satisfaction of his fear. His chest troubled painfully, his spark demanding his attention. But he didn't have time for that, not now. Not when faced with such danger.

"I can do this for as long as I like. No hurries." The Decepticon in front of him shrugged, "Do you think you'll be able to keep up?" And a cruel smile emerged on his face, tracing the electrical rod over his prisoners chest, "Think about your little one, Autobot. Do you really want it to know only agony?"

"Sick monster." The Autobot growled, wings trembling from rage, "The Pit has special a special place for beasts like you." He tried sending soothing thoughts to the sparklet curled around his spark in terrified horror. He could feel it growing weaker, pulsing slower. The little one stopped sending thoughts to him, and the only time he was able to communicate was when it was gripped in fear, like now.

'Shhh, brightspark, my strong one. Endure just a little longer, please.' He mustered what little strength was left in him to wrap the growing spark in a protective cocoon, trying to shield it.

"So? It's not like I'll be joining it anytime soon." A crazy smile stretched on his face, "C'mon. It's simple, just tell me the codes needed to pass Praxus' reflector shields and I'll leave ya and yer lil'one in peace. Promise." The voice cooed.

The Praxian snarled from his chains, energon dripping on the floor, blue optics flaring dimly yet full with so much life in them, "Fragger. You twisted psychopath! What kind of mech would do this to a sparkling!"

The optics of the Decepticon narrowed and he closed the distance between them, leaning dangerously close to the carrier, "Me? Oh how wrong you are Autobot. What kind of a creator would let their young one suffer like this?" He jabbed the rod between a seem in the chest and positively thrilled by the piercing scream the Praxian let, his voice going into static.

The sparkling in his chest throbbed in pain, spinning and floating around frantically. It nearly engaged his delivery protocols from the sheer need to get away from the source of its agony but the Praxian was able to stop that in the last moment.

'Forgive me, brave one. It's too early for you to go out. I know it hurts, I know.' He keened for his creation, 'Please my little ray of hope, please hold on. Your sire will come for us.' A steal resolve backed up his statement and the little spark stopped trying to push out, but was far from the calm stage it should be.

"I'll give you nothing!" He rasped, voice filled with static but a fierce rage behind his optics, "Praxus will stand tall and see the end of the war!"

A shadow fell of the Decepticon's face, making him look like a creature from the nightmares, "Yet your creation wouldn't live to see it." And the rod cackled with electricity as more screams pierced the silence.

0000

He shuddered as his chest plates tried to open again. It was time for the little one to emerge, but it was too soon. Far too soon. He didn't even know the designation of his creation, the sparklet refusing to communicate with him from fear of pain. By now, in a normal carrying cycle, the sparkling should've been able to send emotions back and forth freely and expressing its character more freely. But the abused little light he guarded selfishly in his chest was anything but that. He could often feel the young one flowing distress around his spark, seeking protection and growing more and more quiet with each torture session. He feared so much for it. Would pain be the only thing his creation would know? Should he do it kindness and let the young one out of his misery? Unlock his chest?

But the strong faith he had in his mate overrode the commands to do so. He weakly focused inward, humming softly to his hurt creation.

'My brave little soldier. I'm so sorry you're hurting like this. Please, not yet, wait just a little longer.' The weak sparkling snuggled more in his spark, seeking, drinking in the comfort it got from there.

He heard the door opening and tensed, fear surging through him as the sparkling positively keened in fright. He gasped as it pushed in his chest, wanting to get away.

He braced himself, using all of his power to shield the spark in his chest, the door opened all the way and blue optics flared in the dark. He felt his vents stall as he looked at the figure before him.

"A-asher?" He gasped, disbelieving, feeling dizzy from the emotions he was feeling.

The other Praxian on the door froze, optics flaring and wings fanning on his back as he took the sight of his mate.

"Darksky…" He whispered in horror and the next moment was rushing to his mate, resting their helms together as a worried sob escaped him, "I'm so sorry. I tried to get here sooner, I tried, I tried… oh Primus… what they did to you…" He gently pressed their lips together, "I love you, I'm sorry." He kept chanting over and over as he undid the binds, bringing his mate to the floor, resting him against the wall, his ruined doorwings behind him.

"Ash…" Darksky nearly melted into the kiss, content to die in his first moment of joy in this dark cell. But a tugging at his spark reminded him painfully what was about to happen, what needed to happen.

"Our sparkling—" He gasped as his chest plates trembled in effort to hold them closed, "Tell me you brought a shell with you!"

Asher froze for the second time, "The torture… I didn't dare to hope. Out sparklet… it's still pulsing?"

Darksky gasped again, "Not for long. Our creation wants out. Now." He groaned as the plates shook more violently. "A frame! Tell me you have one!"

Commotion from the door broke the intense moment as a black and white mech entered the room, weapons charged, "Boss, we gotta go, now! It's getting hot out there!"

Asher cursed, resting their helms together again, optics flaring brightly against the dim ones of his mate. Even if the bond was locked, he could feel the tugging in it, he could feel his mate slipping away. Asher held back a sob as the inevitable was fast approaching. He never believed his functioning would end like this. Because he would follow Darksky to the other side. There was no place for him here if his mate wasn't by his side. He opened the bond, letting his mate feel everything he was experiencing now, and the grim conclusion both of them knew.

"A frame, Asher." Darksky whispered, at the verge of passing out and entering stasis lock, "I don't want out creation to know only pain and darkness."

"Creation?" The mech behind them whirled around from his watch on the door, his young face bright in surprise. "Boss, did he just say…?"

"Jazz! Come over here, I need your help." Asher growled and eased his mate into a more comfortable position as the chest plates opened.

"Wait, you're bonded?" Jazz asked, disbelieving but obeying orders nonetheless and knelt down next to Darksky. "I knew you two had somethin' going on but…" He stared in awe as the spark chamber opened and two pulsing sparks lit the dark room. The smaller one was floating chaotically around the spark of his carrier, leaving blue streaks in its path. It was beautiful.

"Jazz," Asher started, and the young spy had never heard his Commander sound so grim, "There's a reason I brought you with me." He reached into his subspace and pulled out a small frame, "I've never seen so much talent in an Ops agent before. But most of all, I trust you." And that, coming from the Ops Commander, was something else entirely.

For a world where trust didn't exist, the full weight of those words nearly crushed Jazz as dread slowly started to creep in.

"Boss…?" Jazz watched as Darksky cried out in pain as the little one separated from his spark, leaving those blue streaks behind. Asher gently cradled the frighteningly small spark close to his chest, a soft look on his face, full of love and adoration and sadness that Jazz had never seen nor believed his Commander capable of.

"Open the chest." The command was soft, as two creators watched captivated the little spinning sparkling. As a mech who obeyed orders flawlessly in no matter what situation, Jazz did as told, and opened the little one's chest plates manually, watching as Asher gently placed the spark into the empty spark chamber.

At first, there was nothing, but then the spark chamber suddenly closed with a snap, along with the chest plates as little systems whirled to life for the first time. Darksky cried out in relief, and Asher's wings drooped so low in worried exhaustion that they lay flat on his back. Jazz just stood there awkwardly, knowing he was intruding an intimate moment, but lost at what to do. That, and a sudden explosion rocking the room.

The tiny sparkling started crying.

"Commander." Jazz said uneasy, "We have to go."

Ignoring the spy, Asher placed the sparkling in Darksky's tired arms, his mate nuzzling the small thing, field radiating so many emotions.

"I never believed… Primus, I thought I would never get to hold him…"

"I had the same fear for you." Asher whispered, placing his hand over the sparkling's helm, relishing in the feeling of having his family close. He wished the moment could last forever, but it was over all too soon. He looked at the fidgeting spy next to them, looking at the entrance to the cell, expecting someone to enter any moment now.

"Jazz, I have a mission for you."

Jazz whirled to look at him, disbelieving, "Seriously? As if we're not in enough trouble as it is!" He stood up stiffly, his finger twitting over the trigger. "So what's the plan boss?"

"No." Asher said quietly, hand brushing his mate's cheek while the other was still resting over the sparkling's helm. Again, Jazz felt like intruding the intimate moment. He watched as Asher nodded, looking into Darksky's dim, but intense optics. "Jazz, this is Bluestreak."

"Okay…" Jazz trailed off, worriedly looking at the entrance again. They were wasting time.

"And he is your responsibility now and onwards."

All processing power came to a sudden halt, "Wait, what?!" He looked down at the sparkling, "But you—"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"No." Jazz shook his head, "C'mon Boss. We've escaped from worse situations than this. Remember Kaon? We can do it! And you and your mate can raise Blue, together."

Darksky smiled gently, nuzzling the sparkling, "He already gave him a nickname. I knew Bluestreak was a good name, with all the blue streaks his little spark was leaving." He sighed tiredly, "My only regret is that he won't grow up in Praxus."

"This is an order Jazz. It's your mission." Asher said, putting force behind his words, "I'm trusting you."

Jazz stiffened, "Ah can't take care of a sparklin'." His accent deepened.

"You can and you will. Not really a choice." Asher regarded Jazz, "Go to Praxus. Its neutrality should protect you and the sparkling. Stay there low for a couple of meta cycles and then contact HQ."

"Praxus is a neutral party. I doubt they'll welcome me with open arms—" Another explosion rocked the base as the walls to the room cracked. Darksky clutched Bluestreak closer as Asher growled.

"Then figure it out!"

"What about you?!" Jazz glanced at the door, hearing voices approaching. "Asher, you're more than a Commander, you're my mentor; a friend—"

"Which is why, I ask you as a friend to do me the greatest favor there is and protect him."

All protests died in Jazz as pain for the inevitable gripped his spark. Optics narrowed as he made a fist.

Asher sighed, locking sad optics with his mate, "Come, take him, because Primus, I don't have the strength to rip him out of Sky's arms." Said mech made a distressed sound, holding the sparkling closer, murmuring sweet nothings into the little one's audios.

Jazz felt his spark break at the scene, "I…" He shook his head and frowned.

Sub spacing his gun, Jazz bent over and gently lifted the tiny bundle of wires from his creators, trying and failing to ignore the choked sob that escaped Darksky. He looked into the dim tired optics of the sparkling as it suddenly yawned quietly and drifted into recharge, the crying having tired him out. The spy looked at the embraced couple, feeling uneasy, bringing the sparkling close to his spark by instinct, trying to shield it from the dangers of this place.

"Go." Darksky ordered, leaning over his mate, optics locked on the peaceful form of his creation, for the first time in orns free of pain. "Go, now."

Jazz took an unsure step back, watching the creators. "Commander…" He looked at the big mech, huge wing panels fanned behind him.

"It's alright. Go."

Jazz nodded tersely, as he took another slow step back, one hand holding the tiny sparkling, so small in fit his hand perfectly, while with the other one he gripped his weapon. It took all of his strength to turn and walk out of the room without looking back.

0000

It was such a beautiful sunset. The last rays of the sun were casting upon the large crystals in the valley, leaving long and heavy shadows in their wake. The place was silent and the echo of the winds were hard to miss. But their cool caresses were a welcomed touch to Jazz's roughed up plating.

Littered with minor (and not so minor) wounds, Jazz heavily leaned on a crystal, hidden in its shadow as he sank down to the ground. For how long had he been driving? It was irrelevant as the only times he stopped to rest were for him to feed the little one.

On the ground, Jazz flexed his left leg and pain shot through him. His hands shop up to the knee joint, holding the damaged plating. Stupid 'cons. They kept appearing right out of nowhere.

"Persistent fraggers…" He muttered and once the pain subsided he allowed himself to stretch, feeling stiff. His chest plates unlocked and he reached inside with a clawed hand, bringing out a drowsy looking sparkling.

"Hey there little buddy." Jazz smiled cheerfully at the little thing, trying to radiate as much as calm and secure as he could, "That last chase was a dozy, wasn't it?" The little sparkling just blinked again before curious optics started looking around the unfamiliar place.

The sparkling was tiny, as all Praxian sparklings were due to the disproportion between frame and doorwings. Jazz amused himself and the sparkling by tickling the little appendages, earning himself a warble.

"Some orn, I'm gonna hear ya laugh lil' one." Jazz murmured. It worried him a little that the sparkling barely made any sounds at all. The last time he heard him cry was right after the explosion of the Decepticon base.

Asher went out with honor, Jazz thought pained, and Bluestreak here probably felt what little was left of his creators bond snap shut. Ever since then, the kid barely made any sounds.

Jazz kept on playing with the sparkling, tickling its nose and letting him play with his large fingers. Like every other model, he had a special compartment for sparklings in his chest (that he used to place secret weapons inside) but knew that letting the kid stay too cooped up in there wasn't ideal.

"Someone's hungry, hmm?" Jazz cooed when Bluestreak caught his finger and started sucking on it. "I know, I'm hungry too." He sighed and checked his depleting energy readings. He had run out of fuel orn ago, and the self-repair and constant chase had him burning faster than it should be normal.

"When we get to Praxus, I'm gonna get ya some real energon bitlet, not this slag yer forced to have." Jazz talked, opening his wrist compartment, wincing as he ripped anew the healing cut he made the previous orn for Bluestreak to fuel. It was far from ideal, nearly barbaric, but the sparkling's fuel tanks couldn't handle anything stronger, so the deluded energon in Jazz's fuel lines would have to do the trick.

"Ah know it sucks, lil' Blue, but ya gotta fuel." Jazz coaxed when the not-so-pleasant taste of his fuel had the sparkling tilting his head away, "C'mon, I promised yer creators to watch out for ya, what would they say if I starved ya to death?"

Jazz grinned as the hungry sparkling finally caved in and started drinking. He kept on talking, "Let me tell ya, yer carrier is one scary mech. You saw him in an emotional state, so it's hard to tell, but Primus did he dish out punishments like none other. And yer sire…"

Jazz trailed off thinking, the sparkling watching him curiously as it spit out the fuel line, done for now with fueling, "Hmm, well, yer sire was just as uptight as yer carrier, if not more so, but he had his moments of insanity. I gotta tell you about our time in Kaon…" He looked at the tired Bluestreak, fighting off recharge and loosing badly.

"Maybe 'nother time?" He whispered and brushed Blue's cheek.

Once the sparkling was deeply in recharge Jazz let his head fall back, optics going offline.

"Can't believe yer really gone ya glitch." He murmured and thought about his mentor. He was so certain that if one mech would live to see the end of the war, it would be Asher – mech was far too smart for his own good. Jazz looked at the horizon before him and opened his chest plates again, placing the small form inside it. He lifted a gun and made sure it was charged before getting up to his pedes.

"Praxus, here we come."

AN: We have tons of fics that just gather dust on our computers. It's about time we shared some of them with the world! Tell us what you think.