The harsh fluorescent lights of the medbay hummed, a stark contrast to the soft, internal warmth Jazz felt spreading through his circuits. He gripped Prowl’s hand tighter, a silent thank you for the unwavering support radiating from his sparkmate. Energon pulsed through him in rhythmic waves, each one bringing him closer to... everything. Prowl's optics, usually sharp and calculating, were softened with concern and... awe. He squeezed Jazz’s hand back, his usually stoic face etched with a barely-there smile. "Easy, Jazz. You're doing wonderfully." Jazz let out a grunt. “Easy for you to say, Prowler. You’re not the one feeling like a fusion cannon’s about to… explode… outta my chassis.” He sucked in another breath, teeth gritted. "I am aware of that," Prowl replied, his vocalizer attempting to convey empathy, even if his programming struggled with the concept. "And I am here. Every step of the way. Focus on my voice." Ratchet, his usual gruff self, bustled around them, muttering diagnostics and adjustments to the equipment arrayed around the berth. "Primus, you two lovebirds are worse than a hive of scrapbots. Almost there, Jazz. Just a little more. And Prowl, quit hovering. You're making me nervous." Another surge, more intense this time. Jazz cried out, the sound echoing in the sterile environment. “I… I think… I think it’s time!” He gasped, his voice strained. Prowl squeezed his hand again, harder this time. He saw the strain on Jazz’s face and his own spark ached in response. A final, earth-shattering push. Jazz slumped back, his systems depleted but a wave of relief washing over him. Then, a new sound. A tiny, warbling cry filled the medbay. Ratchet, his expression softening slightly, carefully disentangled the small form from the energon-slick cables. He held the sparkling gently, turning it over in his hands.Ratchet carefully holding the small bundled sparkling in his arms, walks over to Jazz and Prowl. Ratchet: “Well, here they are. Quite the little one.” Jazz: Reaches out weakly “Lemme see 'em, Ratch.” Ratchet: Carefully places the sparkling in Jazz's arms “Easy does it, Jazz. You just went through a lot.” Jazz: Gazes down at the sparkling with wide optics “Woah... Look at 'em, Prowl.” Prowl: Leans closer, his optics softening “They are...remarkable.” Jazz: “They're... tiny.” Prowl: A hint of amusement in his voice “Relatively speaking, yes.” The sparkling makes a soft, whirring sound. Jazz: Chuckles softly “Listen to 'em purr. What do you think, Prowl?”