A/N: Written for Rowena DeVandal's One Thousand Words or Less Challenge. Five sentences were provided to use as the first and last sentences, and (obviously) the fic is supposed to be one thousand words or less. This fic is exactly one thousand words (excluding the author's note.) It was pretty hard for me to do, since I tend to ramble. There is so much I would like to add, and (to me) it does seem like I could (should) add a lot more. But whatever.

In this story, one megacycle is equal to one hour.

This is my second Transformers centric fic, and my first time writing for Prowl and Bluestreak. I hope I kept them in character. First angsty-ish type fic, too . . . well, its supposed to be angsty; might have turned out kinda corny, actually . . . . It's hard to fit the appropriate angst in such a short story.

Hope ya enjoy it!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Transformers, damnit. If I did, I'd have (unintentionally) screwed everything up a long time ago.

Promises

"I can't believe you thought that was a good idea!" Prowl hid his frustrated optics behind one hand and let out an irritated noise. "Bluestreak, what in the world made you think that was a wise move?"

Bluestreak hunched his shoulders and faced the ground, shuffling his feet meekly. "I—I-- . . . uh . . ."

Decepticons prowled the vacant city outside the building in which himself, Prowl and Jazz took refuge. Bluestreak wasn't sure how many there were, but he knew they were out there searching for him and his friends. He was certain that they were out there. How could he not be? He had led them there.

By accident, of course.

And with perfectly good intentions. How could trying to lead a bunch of Decepticreeps away from your friends not be done with good intentions? He'd only wanted to help. Prowl and Jazz had been downloading vital information from a computer in a building that had once served as an Autobot base, both completely unaware of the Decepticons narrowing in on their positions. Bluestreak, who had been ordered to conceal himself in a separate room, had noticed the group of Decepticons. And, like a true Autobot with completely good intentions that only wanted to help his big brother and long time friend, he had jumped out from his hiding place and tried to lure the Decepticons away.

Long story short, he ended up hiding in an old, abandoned building. Megacycles later, an enraged Prowl and Jazz had found him. They'd been hiding there ever since.

Prowl lowered his hand and stared the younger mech down, optics ablaze. "Bluestreak, I want an answer."

"Give the kid a break, Prowl," Jazz placed a comforting hand on Bluestreak's shoulder. "He was only tryin' to help."

"Bluestreak," Prowl ignored the sympathetic saboteur and took a step closer to Bluestreak. Bluestreak stiffened and met Prowl's optics tentatively. Dread filled the young Autobot's glowing blue optics, and despite his resolution to be strict with the young soldier, Prowl found his anger ebbing away under his little brother's gaze. "You could have gotten yourself hurt. Captured. Killed."

"I—I just—" Bluestreak spluttered and averted his otpics from Prowl's. "I—I just wanted to help, you know? You guys were doing all the work and I was just sitting there hiding and doing nothing and I felt useless so I went to help and tried to lure the Decepticons away from you two so you could get the information away and then I—"

A door opened. Heavy footsteps drowned out Bluestreak's babbling. Deep, brutal voices indicated that the Decepticons had finally located the Autobot's shelter.

"Quiet," Jazz hissed. His hand pushed down on Bluestreak's shoulder. Bluestreak clamped his mouth shut and crouched to the ground with the others, optics wide.

They leaned back against a wall, stiff and anxious. Behind the wall, Decepticon's footsteps were getting louder; they were getting closer. Prowl peered around the edge of the wall. He looked back at his teammates, optics aglow with dread.

Seven of them, he sent in a private comm. link to each Autobot. We can't take them all.

We don't have to, Bluestreak insisted frantically. We can just run really fast and call Skyfire to pick us up and the Decepticons will never know we were here--

They're spread out, Prowl replied bleakly. They'll see us if we run.

And they'll find us if we stay put. Jazz added. You two make a run for it. I'll lead 'em away.

No, Jazz. The tone of Prowl's voice made Bluestreak's circuits run cold. You have the more important information. We cannot afford to have you captured. I will lead them away.

But Prowl—

That is an order, Jazz. Prowl said crisply. I will not accept any arguments.

Jazz squared his shoulders as if to argue, but after a firm stare from his old friend, his shoulders sagged and he let out a long, deep sigh. He clasped Prowl's shoulder. His voice was steady as he spoke, but his grief was all too obvious. You take care of yourself, Prowl ol' buddy.

Prowl smiled. And you take care of yourself as well, old friend.

Bluestreak couldn't believe what he was hearing. He crawled around Jazz to his brother, spark throbbing painfully. Prowl, Prowl—you can't stay. You've gotta come with us. Prowl, please, they'll catch you--

Go with Jazz, Bluestreak. Prowl ordered. Smiling grimly, he embraced his baby brother. Bluestreak wrapped his arms around Prowl's shoulders, head shaking, still pleading hopelessly. He could hear the Decepticons nearing their refuge. They didn't have much time.

I've contacted Skyfire, Jazz interrupted reluctantly. He's on his way. He hesitated. C'mon, Blue. We don't got much time.

No. No no, please—

I will be right behind you, Prowl insisted, As soon as they are off our trail, I will be right behind you. I promise. Bluestreak shook his head. He knew a lie when he heard one. I promise.

Before Bluestreak could reply, Prowl was gone.

Jazz and Bluestreak stood atop the tallest building they could find. Jazz's face was turned upwards toward the large jet that cut through the night sky. Skyfire locked onto their position and began to dive, readying himself to land on the building's enormous landing pad.

Bluestreak stared impassively at the street below. Two megacycles had passed since they escaped; two megacycles, and no sign of Prowl.

He's right behind us, he told himself weakly. Right behind us.

Skyfire landed. Jazz placed his hand on Bluestreak's shoulder and began to lead him up Jetfire's ramp. Bluestreak could feel his friend's anguish, but it was nothing compared to his own. Come on, Prowl . . . you promised.

Prowl never showed up.

But even as they took off and left the city behind, Bluestreak repeated Prowl's promise to himself amidst his misery. And with every repeated promise came his own sarcastic response, "If it makes you feel better to believe that, go right ahead."