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Chapter 5 - "First Aid"



It was dark.



Again.



Jazz hated darkness; he'd had enough of it recently. This pitch black Pit could drive amech crazy.



One thought pierced the void suddenly, startling the Autobot.



Rita!



'Bee...?' he called for his partner.



But the oblivious darkness muffled and absorbed his call.



What the slag?



'Ratch?'



The result was the same.



'Optimus?'



Silence.



Then he heard it- the buzzing sound of charging batteries. Almost instantly the Cybertronian symbols appeared in his view:



Emergency Power Supply: on

Primary Power Supply: on

Central Processor: fully operational

Telemetry System: activated

Sensory System: activated

Visual and Audio Receptors: activated



A rush of information announced the silver Autobot's come back from offline mode. Jazz made a quick scan of his systems and of the surrounding world. There was no danger, and nothing was wrong or strange at the parking lot around him. Jazz saw Bumblebee's yellow form parked several yards from him. The presence of the scout was soothing, it gave Jazz hope that his partner was with Rita, helping the girl. And where the slag is Ratchet?

/ /

/Communications/ /Frequencies/ /Range/ Scan: 5%... 10%... 15%...

Private Communications Channel activation in: 20 seconds... 19... 18...



That's why he couldn't get response from any of his comrades.



He didn't have time to wait.



One of the most irritating thing about using holo-projector was the fact that the holo-form could be activated only in direct proximity from the projector. So the only way to get into the building for Jazz would be to activate his holo in the driver's seat and and then make his way to the fifth floor where Rita's room was situated.



Jazz's human form appeared behind the Pontiac's steering wheel, left the car in a hurry and practically flew to the front doors of the Paradise Hotel. Once in the hall, he slowed down to a fast walk so as not to attract unwanted attention to himself. However, his arrival wasn't unnoticed. A young woman in a uniform at the reception opened her mouth to stop him, but Jazz gave her a wink and a heart-melting smile, effectively leaving her speechless. That was sorta reward for spendin' eons on makin' a good holo. As soon as he reached the stairs and was out of her sight he once again started running. In a spark-pulse he was near Rita's room. He turned the metallic knob and entered.



The image that greeted Jazz took only a second to imprint itself in his memory forever, gaining first place in the folder "Strange Things About Earth" within a second. Rita was lying on the floor near the bed, still unconscious and covered with a towel from the waist down. Bumblebee's holo-form was kneeling beside the girl's slender hips, his hands on her bare chest - a picture that would have disturbed him had it not been Bumblebee.



Jazz's eyes went wide when Bee held Rita's nose with two of his fingers, then pressed his lips firmly to her mouth holding her chin with another hand and breathed out. Asecond later the blonde put his hands on the center of the girl's upper chest again and pressed forcefully four times.



"What the slag're ya doin'?!" Jazz gasped in horror, shutting the door behind him and dashing to his partner.



"Back off, Jazz,"usually easy-going Bumblebee barked back at him, leaning to Rita's mouth again and making four breaths this time. His tone meant "no jokes, we've got trouble"in any language of the Universe. "I'm trying to save her life following Ratchet's instructions," he said, pressing down on her chest with his hands again.



Jazz knelt beside Rita opposite from Bumblebee and looked at the girl's face. Her eyes were closed, she was unresponsive. He threw a worried glance around the room, taking a moment to assess the situation. He could see a wet trail of water that went from the bathroom to the spot where she was laying, and it pretty much gave him an insight on what exactly had happened while his CPU was out.



"Rita's signal appeared on my radar when you had gone offline," Bumblebee started explaining quickly."And Ratchet intercepted it as well. He assumed it to be the reason of your overload and sent me the codes to dim it down a bit so that you could reboot." The blonde gave Rita another breath, to no avail. "Her blood pressure jumped, that's why she had a hemorrhage from her nose. She's unconscious and not breathing, I'm trying to get her online again. Ratch is in five minutes from here."



Bee was nervous and frightened for a human life in his hands. Jazz could understand why: Bumblebee wasn't a medic, he just blindly followed the instructions; he wasn't used to such responsibility and was afraid of doing something wrong.



"Come on... come /on/,"the blonde whimpered in despair. Jazz could only sit back on his heels in a wordless dismay and watch. The girl's wet hair seemed almost raven, her skin was unnaturally pale, and that made the little red cut on her throat even more noticeable and out of place. She looked like a doll, a beautiful, fragile doll that was broken in more than one way.



A quick web-search provided Jazz with the basic information on human heart and brain peculiarities.



"How long?" he asked Bumblebee in a tight voice.



"Two minutes thirty five seconds."



Energon froze in Jazz's circuits. Just a little longer - and she'll be lost or damaged beyond repair.



'Ratchet, man, ya'd better hurry,' Jazz sent through his intercom that was working again.



'Report your status, lieutenant,' he heard the medic's tone of voice, and Jazz had no other options but to respond in the same manner.



'Lieutenant Jazz, status stable, fully functional. It's Rita who needs ya, Ratch, not me.'



'I'm doing my best, Jazz.'



/Please, Rita/, the silver bot pleaded with his charge silently.



Didn't he promise her that she would be safe? She called for him when she'd sensed the danger. But all he could do was sit here beside her while Bumblebee was trying to bring her back to life.



He felt useless, despite all his attempts to prove the opposite since his revival.



Jazz scanned Rita. Her heart was just a faint whisper. It seemed almost like she wasn't really there. Did he himself look like that after the battle for the Allspark? Like an empty shell...



"Don't die on me, girl," he muttered under his breath, his hand running through his ruffled short hair.



Bee breathed into Rita's mouth again, and then - thank Matrix! - her green eyes flew open, mouth swallowing the much needed air on its own; but the intake was cut short by a fit of violent coughs that shook her entire frame. Bumblebee shot up to one knee immediately, giving her space and turning her to her stomach so that any remaining liquid could leave her lungs. Rita leaned onto her trembling hands, pulling her legs under herself. Bee's free hand grabbed the sheet from the bed by the corner and draped it over Rita's nakedness. Jazz felt gratitude to his partner for that, though he didn't know where it had come from.



'Ratchet, she's come to her senses, heart functional, breathing ragged, but returning to normal,' Bumblebee reported to the CMO, relief evident on the scout's human face.



'Good job, Bumblebee. I'll be there in two minutes,' the medic replied to the both Autobots, and Jazz could swear he'd heard the same relief in Ratchet's voice that the two of them felt at the moment.



Rita was sitting on the wet floor now, clutching at the soaked sheet that was wrapped around her trembling body.



"Breathe, Rita, breathe... That's it," Jazz spoke to her in a soothing voice, regretting his inability to support her with his hands. Rita looked at him. Her gaze was slightly dazed and still held a tinge of fear, but she was calming down bit by bit. "Ya scared me there, y'know," the ever present smile was returning to Jazz's lips, though abit half-hearted.



Rita's eyes shifted silently to the blond young man on her other side, and Jazz took it as his cue to introduce them to each other. "This is ma' partner, Bumblebee. He's an Autobot, juz like myself. He saved yer life."



Bumblebee gave the girl a friendly smile that lit up his young face. "Nice to meet you, Miss Grace," he said.



She answered him with a long stare, and then nodded. "It-... It's Rita." Her voice was quiet and raspy, and she cleared her throat. Apparently she preferred to be called by her first name, no matter who she was talking with. Jazz decided that he liked that. After all, his own species were doing fine without second names and he never could understand why humans needed them at all.



"We gotta dry ya up a bit before Ratchet arrives," Jazz said, looking around. "Bee, could ya bring some towels?"



Bumblebee nodded, understanding that Jazz couldn't do it himself, and went to the bathroom in search of the needed items.



Rita brushed her nose with her palm and looked at her fingers as if checking whether she was still bleeding. Thankfully, the bleeding has stopped, and she looked at Jazz again. "Who's 'Ratchet?'" the girl asked uncertainly.



"Our medical officer." There was no point in holding back the information from her. She would find it all out soon anyway.



"He's a "robot", too?"



"Yeah," Jazz confirmed.



"How many of you guys are out there?" She asked quietly.



"Ya mean Autobots?Five with ma'self."



"It was a rhetorical question, Jazz," she shook her head.



Jazz chuckled. "How're ya feelin'?" He asked trying to scan her, but not succeeding very much, since he wasn't a medic and didn't know what to look for. Her "exterior" seemed to be normal though, if a bit shaken and wet.



"Like I almost drowned in an embarrassingly small puddle of water," Rita gave a tired humorless laugh. "What a pathetic and stupid way to die, isn't it?"



"Absolutely,"Jazz drawled with a half-smile, and then became serious again. "Rita, what was that all about?"



The girl's shoulders visibly drooped, making her seem even smaller; she wrapped the sheets around herself tighter as if trying to hide in them. "It's the first time it's happened twice in one day," she whispered. And it dawned at Jazz what she meant when she'd told him about her "strange disease."



There was a heavy silence between them. She was staring at the floor near her bare feet, deep in her own thoughts, and he was staring at her, not really knowing what to say. He could tell her that "everything's gonna be fine," but he wasn't so sure about it anymore, and he didn't want to lie to her.



The silence was interrupted by Bumblebee emerging from the bathroom with a dry towel and clean clothes that had been abandoned there.



"Thank you... Bumblebee," Rita said, pausing a little before saying the blonde's name. Jazz knew she was thanking him not only for the clothes, but also for her life. Bee's smile indicated that he'd felt it, too.



"You are welcome,"the blonde replied, his electric-blue eyes reflecting joy.



Rita took the clothes from him and looked at Jazz and Bee. "Uh... guys?" she started. "Would you mind turning away for a minute?" She lifted her brow.



"Oh," they said in unison and turned around, giving Rita some privacy. Jazz felt stupid, though he wouldn't confess it even under a torture.



It was a minute later when someone knocked on the door. Rita stopped in the middle of buttoning and zipping her jeans and looked with worry in the direction of the sound. Jazz made a silent gesture to Bumblebee, and they both took place on the two sides of the entrance before the dark-skinned Autobot turned the knob and opened the door.



Ratchet didn't even say 'hi' as he let himself inside without hesitation, and honestly Jazz didn't expect him to. The medic got all business-like and straight-to-the-point when his professional abilities were required. And he was the leader in such moments; even Optimus didn't dare to question his decisions. Hmm, maybe I should make medicine ma' second profile?



Jazz looked Ratchet's holo-form over with interest - it was the first time he had seen the medic using it. His "human" body was bigger and taller than Jazz's, well-built and somewhere in its late thirties, or early forties; he had short brown hair, stylishly combed, with traces of silver on his temples; gray careful eyes that looked straightforward at everything around him; and two-days worth of stubble along his chin and jaw line./Not bad./ It suited the medic who was always in the process of doing something vitally important and urgent. Add to it the medical outfit that humans usually wore and the air of authority that always accompanied his presence - and you have a good picture of "Ratchet-the-Mad-Repairman."



Rita momentarily tensed seeing the newcomer that was moving towards her with quick confident strides. She looked at Jazz questioningly.



"Rita, this is Ratchet," Jazz introduced his comrade to the girl. "I told ya, he's our medic. He needs ta run a little check on ya," he added.



Rita's gaze moved to Ratchet, and the medic gave her a curt nod. "My pleasure to meet with you, Miss Grace," he said in a calm, polite tone.



The girl opened her mouth, and Jazz could bet she was going to correct Ratchet in regards of her name. But the medic silenced whatever she was going to say by laying one hand on Rita's forehead gently to tilt her head back slightly and take a look at the little cut on her throat. Ratchet's brows creased, he 'hmm'-ed quietly.



'What's that mean, Doc?' Jazz asked through the intercom.



'I am not sure yet,' the medic answered, then took a little flash-light from his pocket and directed a thin ray of light into Rita's eyes, still holding her head with one palm.



Everyone waited. Ratchet ran several different scans on his speechless patient, then produced another concerned "hmm" and wrapped one hand around his midsection, the other hand supporting his chin in a tell-tale gesture of deep contemplation. Three pairs of eyes looked at him, the same silent question in each.



"We have to deliver her to our med labs," was the medical officer's verdict. "I need my equipment to run some tests. Until then I cannot come to any conclusions."



Rita suddenly snapped out from her muted state. "Tests?" she squeaked and furrowed her brows angrily at Ratchet. "I'm not some kind of a lab rat for alien experiments, mister!"



"Rita, no one's gonna getcha into 'experiments' here," Jazz assured her, stepping closer to the two. "Doc's juz gonna try ta fix that problem of yours, that's all."



"Jazz is right, Ms. Grace," Ratchet confirmed. "Our only intention towards you would be to move you to a safe place and make a thorough medical research, so that we can find the cause or causes of your mysterious disease and eliminate them."



By the look on Rita's face Jazz could tell she didn't like the term "eliminate."



'Hey Doc, watch yer words here, yer scarin' 'er,' he sent through the com link.



Then he addressed Rita. "He talks funny, but he means no harm. I trust 'im with ma' life, so ya can trust 'im, too."



'How generous of you, Jazz,' Ratchet snorted, showing a 'kind doctor' smile to the girl at the same time. It was all Jazz could do not to laugh at that.



Rita's eyes were shifting from her bodyguard to the medic and back. She was obviously considering her options. "Okay," she finally said, carefully and quietly. "But on one condition. I've got to play a show today, and I will do it, no matter what."



She was getting nervous again, and Jazz wondered why she got like that every time she talked about the show.



"It is scheduled to 10 pm at Jet Club, am Icorrect?" Ratchet asked after a little pause.



"Yes, you are correct," Rita eyed the medic warily.



"You will be escorted there by Jazz, so there is nothing for you to worry about, Rita," Ratchet assured her.



The girl nodded."Fine, then you can take me to that 'safe place' of yours." She turned away from them and wandered to the mirror drying her hair with a towel on her way.



'Yer kiddin', right?' Jazz asked Ratchet through the intercom.



'Why would Ido that, lieutenant?' The medic replied.



'It's not safe for her ta be anywhere near the city right now, let alone get onstage.'



'And what do you suggest? It was her condition. We can't just take her with us against her will; it would be a violation of all the protocols regarding humans we have.'



'I still don't like the idea, Doc.'



'We shall see if it can be avoided. But if it is what I think it is... then I am ready to take all risks possible.' Ratchet answered firmly; it looked like their conversation on this topic was closed. What was he talking about? Jazz had very uncomfortable feeling it was something very serious. He just hoped it wouldn't take lives of those he wanted to protect...



This thought reminded Jazz that he needed Ratchet's help with a little problem he had.



'Err... Since we got some time here, I need ya ta fix ma' holo-projector, Ratch. I'm fed up with Bee havin' ta back me up all the time. I can't look out for the girl if I ain't really here. It nearly killed 'er the last time.'



Ratchet's brows furrowed, he captiously studied Jazz's hologram. 'You have a point here, lieutenant. We shall have to turn our holo-projectors off and move around back of the hotel where no one will be able to see us.'



"Bee, yer in charge here," Jazz turned to the blonde young man. He chose a vocal form of communication so that Rita could hear them, too. "Doc an' I got some business ta do outside. Help Rita pack and get 'er down ta the parkin' lot. We'll be there."



Bumblebee nodded in acknowledgement.



Before letting his hologram dissolve Jazz met Rita's surprised and devastated gaze directed at him. He hated to scare her, but he didn't want to lose any time.



The silver Pontiac Solstice and the lime-green Hummer H2 left the parking lot and slowly made their way around back, under a group of tall trees with rich crowns that gave enough shadow to hide the two Autobots in the darkness of the night.



Having his holo-projector being repaired proved to be a fast, but painful experience. Ratchet's laser calibrated Jazz's sensory system and connected it to the nervous system of his future holo-form.



'I can't turn your nerve receptors off, Jazz. I need to see that the connection is being established the right way.'



'I ain't askin'ya ta, Doc,' Jazz answered in mild surprise.



'Then stop squirming, it's a delicate work,' the medic told him sternly.



Oh...



'Sorry.'



Several seconds later Ratchet folded his laser back into his hand. 'Try it,' he said.



Jazz transformed into his vehicle-form and tentatively activated his holo-projector. As his "human"self left the car he could feel the cool air on his skin and in his hair. Temperature, humidity, the caress of the wind - everything. He bent to the ground and picked up a stone of a medium size that perfectly fit into his palm. His eyes searched around and stopped on the dumpster about five yards away from where he and Ratchet were settled. He raised his hand and threw the stone; the projectile drew a graceful arc in the air and landed accurately in the middle of the can, the sound of its fall muffled by the garbage that had already been in there.



'Three-pointer,' Jazz smirked mischievously, a smug look on his face.



'Show off,' Ratchet snorted, but Jazz knew that the medic was satisfied with his work on his holo-projector.



The peace of the moment was ruined by the signal of warning that Jazz got on his radar. It could only be caused by the Decepticon's appearance in the area...



End of Chapter 5