[TF Tidbit] The Fair Folk (of Praxus) 03

 Series: Transformers
Title: The Fair Folk 03
Characters: Prowl, Jazz
Summary: Jazz woke up on a gurney.
Warnings: N/A
Disclaimers: I do not own Transformers. This is written purely for fun.

~*~

Jazz woke up on a gurney.

He was...he was strapped down. Which was good, ‘cause they were moving and he was going to fall. His processor was slow and buggy. Lights were way too bright and his optics kept resetting. He was so dizzy. He needed to grab the world and make it stop.

His throat felt full of oil, and coughing didn’t help.

“Jazz, Jazz, can you hear me?” A blur of red and white leaned over him. A person, his sensors eventually decided. “You’re in the hospital. You are safe.”

Oh, well that was good. He was...he had just been in a lot of danger, right? The fairies, where did the fairies go? He had been falling apart…

He could see the curl of a golden core string in his peripheral. His hand wasn’t strapped down, and he vaguely reached in the direction of his chest. A doctor could fix that, right?

The first mech, the red and white one, grabbed his hand and held it firmly. He must of misunderstood, because his voice was pitched to soothing tones. “You’re going to be okay.”

Jazz wasn’t scared. (Okay, that was a lie, but he was feeling rather distant and fuzzy right now.) He was more worried about literally unraveling to pieces. “Stringzz,” he slurred urgently.

The mech wouldn’t let go of his hand. Could they even see them? So Jazz tugged it down to knock against his chest. He didn’t get very far, the mech had a firm grip. "It's okay," the mech assured. "We got you."

Jazz could only blame his glitchy optics for missing it before. Another mech, mostly purple, with too many arms for a standard frame, leaned over Jazz's chest. He must be some sort of specialist. One pair braced the mech's weight against the gurney, another held Jazz's plating still, and another-

Purple’s fingers flashed as they literally stitched the snapped golden threads back into his protoform. Through his plating. With glowing needles the size of his fingers.

Jazz panicked.

“Don’t worry.” The red and white mech pulled his hand away from where his friend was working. “We’ll get you put back together.” Then he flickered. Like Prowl had shortly before throwing fire and looking alien. Oh Primus, it was the fairies all over again. Except, these guys weren’t little, he was strapped down, and Prowl was nowhere to be seen.

He'd had enough. Jazz’s processor promptly checked back out.