Chapter Text
"Shhh, Sunny, I know you're hungry, but this song's 'bout to end. I'll switch it to commercial and then I can feed you," Jazz begged as he bounced one hungry twin on his knee. The bitty, his bitty, he needed to remember, sniffled and stuffed his hand into his mouth. He suckled and Jazz winced, but kept bouncing his knee. If he could distract him for a little while longer... Just until the song was over...
Sky-Byte's newest hit finally drifted to a close and Jazz threw on his best grin. The audience could hear a good smile, he always said. "Well, folks, ya heard it here! I'll Take a Chomp Out of You, new, fresh, and sure ta rip yer spark ta pieces! Let's go ta commercial, and I'll be back with yer favorite tunes!" He chirped. He hit the mute button on his mic, picked a random data chit for an ad and plugged it in. Making sure it was playing, Jazz finally allowed himself to breathe.
He sighed and shook his helm, "Alright, Sunny, let's go get you an' your brother fed, aight? Now, where is he?" Jazz tucked Sunstreaker onto his hip and left his padded studio room.
It was the one room he had that he could actually work from home in, but this wasn't working, not when the twins could slip in. No, and his boss was going to be having his plating soon if he couldn't focus completely on his job, but it wasn't Jazz's fault! Not with the twins getting kicked out of every single daycare he had found and not being old enough for school yet.!
No, he needed something more... permanent, but with his schedule fluctuating up to three hours a day in either direction... He couldn't outright afford a nanny, but what babysitter would be willing to help out with his hellions?
A crash from the kitchen had Jazz running and he skidded around the corner to see Sideswipe on the counter. A jar of energon goodies laid on the ground, shattered. Sideswipe froze when he saw Jazz before bursting into loud tears.
Jazz sighed and walked over carefully, "Aw, Sides... Are you okay?"
"'Ungry..." Sideswipe sobbed. Jazz dreaded what he knew was coming. He desperately tried to bounce both twins on his hip, but it was too late.
Sunstreaker was already bursting into wails.
"Primus," Jazz cried and darted to the twins' high chairs. "One sec, bitties, I promise, please please please be quiet," He begged. He threw open his fridge and rooted around for their favorite pudding cups. They were technically supposed to be snacks, but they would tide the twins over for now, right?
It would need to be good enough.
Grabbing a spoon for each, Jazz peeled the cups open and shoved them into the twins' hands. Sunstreaker knocked over his, spilling all of his food. He looked at it for a moment before he began to sob harder.
Emotions that he really didn't want to show in front of the bitties began to rise. He couldn't do this, not on his own. He couldn't do this now. He needed- He needed them-
"Please please please stop crying," Jazz cried again, his own frustrated tears welling up in his optics. "Boys, please."
It was only because Sideswipe hadn't knocked his cup over that they managed to recover even slightly. He silenced himself and Jazz took the reprieve in one twin's crying to grab another pudding cup. With shaking hands, he held up some of the glowing blue fuel to Sunstreaker, pleading with him to just take it so he could get back to his job.
He couldn't keep doing this.
It had been like this for weeks.
He had been lucky to have the first five weeks off.
The last three weeks, he hadn't been so lucky.
He needed help. He couldn't do this anymore.
He pulled out his data pad, and put in a request to the classifieds. He just hoped no weirdos answered his job ad.
Prowl sighed as he put his last box down. Granted, it was only one of three and all he could carry, but it was his. The apartment was dingy and had suffered the landlord treatment countless times, if the scraplet outline barely visible under what had to be several dozen layers of paint was any indication. For the fact that the fridge smelled of cheap engex and ash, and the fact that the floors had been polished enough times to feel grimy, the fact that all of the doors, except for the front door, refused to remain closed, even when locked.
But it was safe. He had checked the building several times over. It required a key for the front and back exits. He was on the second floor over a dumpster, so if he needed to jump out for whatever reason, he would survive the jump. Smelly, but alive.
That, and the paranoid landlord who own the building lived by the main door with enough cameras in the halls that when Prowl told him he was trying to get away from his old ex and provided a picture, Red Alert had insisted on doing a background check on the mech. He assured Prowl that if his ex was a threat to Prowl, then he was a threat to everyone else in the building.
He had never felt so safe as when he was in that apartment, even if it was suffocating.
But now he needed a new job. He needed one now and he needed something that would allow him to continue his studies, even if online. That disbarred most food service jobs, and manual labor. It would need to be something... Prowl didn't wanted to say it needed to be something that would end up being beneath him, but he couldn't afford to be picky. That meant cleaning jobs if he needed to.
Hopefully anyone hiring wouldn't be a pervert.
Prowl sighed as he settled onto the preowned berth next to his things, and rummaged around to pull out his datapad. This would be the kind of job for the classifieds.
HELP WANTED
Receptionist for morning and early afternoon shift. Must be willing to make calls, emails, and welcome customers with a smile. Pay based on commission.
That... Prowl didn't smile. He didn't do welcoming. Besides, what commission? He'd keep an eye on it, but it wasn't at the top of his list.
HELP WANTED
I HAVE A TURBOHOUND THAT NEEDS TO BE LOOKED AFTER. WILL PAY WELL. HEALTH INSURANCE NOT INCLUDED.
He would rather put his hand through a shredder, and he's probably still come out better than if he took this job.
HELP WANTED
My grand carrier needs fulltime care. She's getting delirious and needs someone to keep track of her meds, her meals, and washing her.
Dealing with an elder in extreme need of personalized care... There was a great chance that she would die in his care and that wasn't a door he was willing to open.
HELP WANTED
I have two 34-vorn-old sparklings that need to be looked after while I'm at work in the afternoon and into the night. Must know how to cook and look after two bitlets with behavior issues. I'm willing to try a trial period.
This... probably wouldn't go well. He had experience from training in Praxus on dealing with people of all ages, including traumatized sparklings who had seen gruesome things firsthand. But children didn't like him, and he didn't like children. Especially ones this young.
He'd try the receptionist job first, and then the nanny position. Prowl was not going to risk meeting that turbohound under any circumstances, nor was he going to be dealing with a dead frame...
Jazz buried his face in his palms as the third prospective babysitter-nanny-caretaker walked out of his apartment. The twins were mid tantrum, screaming and throwing their blacks at each other. The poor candidate had taken one to the visor, cracking it. Honestly, Jazz was just lucky he wasn't getting sued.
Sideswipe screamed as he played tug of war with his brother over one of their toys, but he paused when he saw Jazz's shoulders shaking. Sunstreaker tried to yank the plush zap pony out of his twin's hands, but he fell back when Sideswipe let him have it. The golden twin teared up, but Jazz couldn't find it in himself to care at that moment. Sideswipe was pawing at his knee guards, trying to get his attention, but Jazz was trembling as frustration began to boil.
Why couldn't they just make this easier?! They pushed and they shoved and were ruining his life. He didn't even ask for them, but he was the one most capable of taking them on.
Never mind the fact that he was doing this all alone, and there weren't many lining up to help him. Most of the caretakers in the area had heard about his twins through all of the daycares they had been kicked out of for biting and fighting and... everything.
That last candidate had been the last.
His data pad pinged with a message from a very specific alert on it. If someone were to reach out about the job opening, it would send a very specific chime.
Alert: One (1) Message:
Classified Inquiry: Appointment Request
Jazz tensed and looked over his troublesome two. "Please, you two, don' scare this one off."
Prowl pursed his lips as he paced anxiously. The receptionist position had been filled by the time he reached out, the elderly caretaker had passed away in the three hours he had sat on his decision to reach out, and the turbohound ad had been rescinded. If the attack in the news was anything to go by, he had understood why.
He was waiting to hear back from the last of his first choice picks. Even though he sent the request for an appointment less than five minutes ago, he was still terrified. If this fell through, he'd need to look into cleaning. He was desperate, but he needed one more chance...
A ping at his data pad, exactly five minutes after he sent his appointment request, had his spark seizing for a moment. Prowl scrambled for it and clicked it on.
Alert: One (1) Message:
RE: Classified Inquiry: Appointment Request
Thanks for reaching out! It's still open and I'm a little desperate. Are you still open to come by today? I'll be available for the next three hours for the rest of the day, and tomorrow 9-3. If that doesn't work, please let me know. My address is provided. Please let me know what time you intend to show up.
Thank Primus.
Prowl's hands shook as he typed out a response.
I'm open for the rest of the afternoon. If all goes well, I expect to be there in 20 minutes.
He heaved a sigh of relief and half threw down his data pad. In reality, he could be there in 10, but he wanted to look presentable. Prowl sighed as he looked over himself in the mirror. Minor scuffs and scrapes, but overall still tidy.
"It's just two sparklings. Two sparklings with behavioral issues and a creator who is desperate. Nothing you haven't dealt with in training either," He whispered to himself. He took a deep breath in, held it, and let it out. "Cube, lock the doors, and go," He coached himself for a moment before nodding.
Hopefully his nerves wouldn't shoot him in the foot.
A knock at the door shocked Jazz, despite him knowing who it would be. He turned to the twins, occupied with various paints. He swallowed nervously, "Boys, be good, okay? Please?" He took a deep breath and headed for the door. He blinked in surprise to find a bot, just as black and white as he was, but inverted, and just a little taller than he was.
But that wasn't what caught his attention.
It was how stoic he was.
Jazz still threw on a tired smile, "Hi, you're here about the caretaker position, yeah? Prowl? Please, c'mon in." He stepped aside, letting Prowl see into his messy apartment.
Prowl nodded and stepped inside, taking it all in. Jazz crossed his fingers, mentally begging for him to take the position. He needed just something-
His spark nearly gave out when Sideswipe charged them with literal handfuls of paint, dripping everywhere. "Jazzy! Jazzy!" He cried, but he froze when he saw the newcomer. His face twisted angrily and he changed course.
Prowl merely lifted an eyebrow as the sparkling smeared paint all over his bright white feet and shins. "Sideswipe!" Jazz hissed, but Prowl knelt before he could.
Jazz held his breath as Prowl got onto Sideswipe's level and cocked his helm, "That wasn't very nice."
"Go away! I want my Jazzy!" Sideswipe crowed, opting to smear more paint over Prowl's chest plating.
"I'm- Prowl, I'm so sorry," Jazz started, but Prowl shook his helm.
He didn't break eye contact with Sideswipe as he spoke, "Don't apologize. He's been told not to paint on others, correct?" He ran a finger across his painted chassis to get a large glob of paint to sit on the tip of his finger. He reached out and dabbed the end of Sideswipe's nose.
The sparkling wrinkled his nose in surprise, "You're not nice! You shouldn't do that!"
Prowl inclined his head, "Then why would you paint me, if you did not want paint on you? That is not fair. You were being mean. Being mean isn't nice."
"You're big! That's not fair!" Sideswipe yelled back. Jazz was frozen in place as he watched the interaction. This was either going to go very well or very poorly.
"And you will be big someday too. You must be willing to help those smaller than you to learn. If you were to paint the wrong person someday, you could get hurt. I painted someone when I was much older than you, and he hit me. I am trying to help you learn," Prowl explained patiently.
Sideswipe pouted, "Maybe I don't want to learn!"
Prowl sat more fully and took stock of the colors on his legs, "No, I think you want to learn. But you want to learn what is interesting." He lifted his eyebrow again as he addressed Sideswipe, "If you promise not to paint me again without my permission, I will show you how to draw Jazzy's head. Does that seem fair?"
Jazz's breath was stuck in his chest as Sideswipe pouted and clearly thought about it. The sparkling turned to his twin and they had one of their silent conversations. Sunstreaker frowned at the newest distraction before he came over with more paper and paints. He pushed them into Prowl's direction. "You. Teach."
"Promise first," Prowl bargained and Sunstreaker glared. Jazz's spark was trembling in trepidation. If Prowl gave in, he'd never have the twins' respect-
Sideswipe tugged on his brother's arm with dirty hands, "Sunny! C'mon, please please please!" He turned to Prowl, "I promise not to paint you again without per-permi-"
"Per-mish-un," Prowl sounded out for Sideswipe. He nodded, "I'll show you." He looked up to Jazz for the first time in the entire interaction, "Sideswipe and...?"
"Sunstreaker. Only his brother can call him any kind of nickname," Jazz breathed. He was shocked and watched as Prowl took it all in stride.
The new mech nodded again and addressed Sunstreaker, "I want you to promise me, and I will help you to paint to the best of my ability."
His face scrunched adorably as he thought, Sideswipe still tugging on his arm. "Fine. You. Teach."
"Good. How about you find a good spot while I speak with Jazz. I will be there in a few minutes, if Jazz allows it," Prowl stated. The twins nodded and headed back to their table, papers and paints in hand. The Praxian stood and Jazz stared in disbelief. "I apologize. I felt the need to address them first-"
"You're hired," Jazz breathed. "No one- Mech, not even I can get them to calm down like that that easily." He leaned on the nearby wall and shuddered. Maybe he could actually get some things done now. "How much do you want? Make an offer, mech."
Prowl frowned and quickly pulled out his data pad. He typed in some numbers and showed the screen to Jazz, "I believe an acceptable going rate for two sparklings would be about 25 credits an hour. Is this acceptable-"
"35. 35 an hour, and when can ya start?" Jazz pressed. He was desperate. He needed this mech to stay. He needed the bitties to have someone stand up to them and guide them in ways he just couldn't at the moment.
Prowl finally afforded something of a smile as he looked at the twins eyeing him, measuring him up, "I do believe I have an art lesson to lead. Would you like to outline rules for them? I apologize to bring you back into this, but we would do well with a model."
Jazz laughed heartily and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Mech, you can have full rein of them. I've been drowning with everything. Their creators died 2 months ago and I wasn't ready... Please, I just need some help."
"Let us talk about it while we paint then. It sounds like they need structure," Prowl mused, but there was a critical look in his eye. Jazz got the feeling that he wasn't just talking about the twins.
He wasn't about to fight it, but so long as he could begin to focus on his own life again... he would take it.