"This is your idea?"

Jazz rolled his optics. "I didn't ask for your opinion." He grumbled, firing a quick glare at one of his henchmen who had laughed. "But yes, it is. Y'know what's more fun than torturing someone? Beating the absolute Pits out of them."

"Right, and I'm supposed to just let it happen?" Prowl huffed.

"It's not like you can do much else, given that your servos are tied behind your back." Jazz snickered, crossing his arms over his chest. "You can try to fight back, but I don't think you'll get very far."

"C'mon, boss! Kick that copper's ass already!" One of the mechs behind Jazz jeered, already eager for his turn.

Prowl grit his denta together and took a slight step back to steady himself. As much as he hated to admit it, Jazz was right. His main means of defense were currently cuffed behind his back. All he had to defend himself was his head and his pedes, both of which were nearly useless to him. He was more likely to injure himself further by trying to use them.

His processor ran through dozens of possible strategies, but none seemed plausible in this situation. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he just had to dodge as many attacks as he could in order to limit any injuries he may sustain.

That was easier said than done, though.

His optics picked up movement in front of him and he quickly sidestepped, careful not to lose his balance as a shot from Jazz's blaster narrowly missed him. A streak of white paint on his chestplate bubbled under the heat of the plasma.

"Wake up, Prowler!" Jazz taunted, tossing his blaster aside and raising his fists. "The fight's about to begin!"

"It's not really a fight if only one contender can defend themselves, is it?" Prowl retorted. His optics followed the saboteur as he tried to predict his next move. He knew how Jazz liked to fight, but that knowledge would only get him so far.

"It may not be a proper fight, but it's the kinda fight that I enjoy the most."

Jazz began slowly walking to the right, a smirk plastered across his face. Prowl responded by moving to the right as well to keep his distance. The air was taut with excitement and suspense as they circled each other, waiting for someone to make a move.

In a burst of speed, Jazz lunged at Prowl, but the attack was only a bluff. Instead of landing an actual hit, he slipped behind Prowl and gave him a playful jab between his doorwings. Prowl spun around in order to get Jazz back in his line of sight and was immediately met with a punch to the face that made him stagger.

"Ya make it so easy, Prowl!" Jazz exclaimed, his laughter filling the room.

Prowl spat energon from his mouth. "Not on purpose, I assure you." He muttered, wincing at the soreness that flared up in his shoulder joints.

Just keep moving.

The next time Jazz lunged, Prowl backpedaled to keep him from slipping behind him again. Jazz only laughed and tried to jab at his face again, but Prowl managed to duck under his fist. There was an opening to retaliate and Prowl took it. He charged forward, driving his shoulder into Jazz's chest to knock him off balance.

Jazz let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled backwards. Once he gathered himself, he smiled and chuckled softly.

"So ya wanna play that way, huh?"

"What? Did you really expect me to—hnngh!" Prowl's voice cut out mid-sentence as Jazz drove his knee straight into his midsection. He sank to his knees, unable to do much more than gasp for air.

Jazz then took a metal rod and cracked him across the head with it, smirking as he fell to the ground. He didn't stop there, though, giving him one final kick for good measure before he turned around to face his henchmen.

"That's how you deal with an overconfident cop!" He stated with a grin. Tossing the rod aside, his visor gleamed as he scanned over the group of mechs before him. "Now... who wants to kick his ass next?"

Prowl remained on the ground, unable to get up due to his arms being cuffed behind his back. All he could do was lay there in pain while Jazz's henchmen argued about who would get to beat him next. Eventually he was hauled to his pedes, ready to be someone else's punching bag.

Jazz stepped back while one of his henchmen had a go at Prowl. At first he watched with a smile on his face, his satisfaction growing with each hit Prowl took.

However, the beatings became more and more brutal as each mech took their turn. Prowl wasn't putting up a fight anymore, simply too exhausted to stop himself from being thrown around like a ragdoll. His cries of pain no longer brought pleasure to Jazz. Instead, they infuriated him—but for what reason, he did not know.

So he gave a warning.

"Hey, not so rough! I need him in one piece." Jazz called from where he lounged on a crate.

The mech who was currently toying with Prowl ignored his warning, giving the police bot another kick to the head that snapped a piece of his chevron off.

Something shifted within Jazz.

"I said... not so rough!" He snarled, grabbing his blaster and shooting the mech square in the back three times. Things fell silent as he slowly rose to his pedes, anger coursing through his circuits. "Anyone else want to ignore my orders?"

When he was met with no objections, Jazz holstered his blaster and finally looked down to take in the scene.

There was Prowl, unmoving and covered in his own energon with the dead mech laying next to him. He wasn't pretty anymore—not in that state. Jazz thought he would enjoy seeing him that way. He thought he wanted to see him suffer for what he did, but now that he had, he wasn't so sure anymore. Something felt... off.

"Get rid of that." Jazz ordered after a few minutes had passed, gesturing to the dead mech. He then turned his attention to Prowl. "Put him on the transport. We're moving somewhere else."

He watched his henchmen drag Prowl away before he turned and clenched his jaw.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

•
•
•

When Prowl first came to, he felt nothing. Then, like rust creeping out of an infected joint, pain broke through the numbness and muddled his already disorganized thoughts.

His sight was the first to return after his optics had rebooted themselves, though it remained hazy and unfocused as they adjusted to the light level in the room. Next came his audio receptors, muffled noise filtering in before slowly being fine-tuned into actual words and voices. The voices were too flat and professional for a conversation between criminals.

Lifting his head, Prowl saw a screen that had been set up in front of him. He blinked a few times and squinted to read the headline that flashed across the screen.

MISSING IACON POLICE CAPTAIN NOWHERE TO BE FOUND

"It's like he disappeared into thin air," said a mech that was being interviewed. Prowl recognized him as one of his colleagues, Boltlock. "We're putting as many resources as we can into this search, but so far we have no leads. If anyone has a tip or a possible sighting, please contact the Iacon police department immediately."

"Little do they know that all of their searching will be for nothing."

Hearing Jazz's voice caused Prowl to flinch, and that's when he realized he'd been tied to a chair. He also became aware of the dried energon still plastered on his face and across his chest.

"So your plan is to kill me. Is that it?" Prowl wheezed, resting the back of his neck against the top of the chair.

"Oh no. Not now, at least, and not anytime soon." Jazz said, now sounding dangerously close. Prowl swore he felt his breath brush against the side of his head.  "Since the poor citizens of Iacon will never get to see their beloved captain again, I think it's only fair that you send them a farewell message!"

"You're out of your mind." Prowl growled.

He spotted movement nearby and saw a mech typing away at a transportable monitor. Suddenly, everything dawned on him when he heard a soft beep and the screen in front of him shifted to display Iacon's city square. Not only could he see thousands of Iacon citizens going about their day, he could also see himself being projected on the other screens. Many citizens stopped and pointed out of fear when they saw the live feed.

Prowl went to speak, but stiffened when he felt the barrel of a blaster press against the back of his head.

"Listen up, Iacon!" Jazz exclaimed in his usual cheerful tone. "I know you've been worried about Prowl, but I'm here to assure you that he's perfectly fine. I promise I'm taking real good care of him!"

Prowl couldn't stop staring at the expressions of horror on the faces of the people in the crowd.

"Now, I think Prowl has something to say to all of you!" Jazz leaned into the shot and smiled as he pressed the barrel of the blaster harder against Prowl's head. "Say goodbye, Prowler~."

"No—!" Prowl exclaimed.

And the screen went dark.