Nothing but a Lie
Summary: "Trust?" Prowl said bitingly, "Trust is nothing but a lie. You should learn that lesson, Jazz, learn it before you learned it the same way I did."
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Mirage, Hound
Genre: Angst/Tragedy
Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, high grade, that's 'bout it.
A/N: This was written, literally in the span of one hour and it is poorly written. I only wrote this because I'm going through some personal shit and had just been told to not trust the person I have trusted my entire life. I found out that everyone who I've trusted with all of my life all lied to me at one point in my life and I just don't know what to do. My life, recently, has become so fucked up lately that I just had to write this to let all of my feelings out. Sorry for the crappy quality and my really long Author's note.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form or shape
Nothing but a Lie
Flashback
"Come on Prowl! Come grab a cube with some o' us mechs so we could chill!"
"…Alright, Jazz. I will."
…
"…I wasn't there when the Towers fell, I was signing up for the Autobots because my Creator's told me not too, they said it was stupid and I was going to die. Turns out, I would have died any other way. I'd just rather die with them instead of fighting this Primus-damned war." Mirage finished his tale mournfully before taking several long gulps from one of the twin's home-brewed high grade.
Everyone else was left speechless from the beautiful, yet devastating story Mirage had told them all. It was a miracle that they had even gotten Mirage to speak of the Tower, all though it probably helped that they were all over-charged. Sideswipe was brought close to tears while his brother was busy sketching out an outline of the Towers the way Mirage depicted it.
"…That was 'mazing, 'Raj," Hound said huskily. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that." Unlike anyone else, Hound was the only one who chose to stay sober during this unplanned pity party.
Mirage shrugged indifferently, although everyone saw the slight tremor that ran through his body and the way his lower lip trembled. "That's why I hate this war. Everyone has a reason why they're fighting this death sentence."
Jazz noticed that Prowl was on the urge of breaking down. His frame was shaking with unknown tremors and his doorwings were fluttering a mile a minute. He was in his own little world and didn't seem to see anyone there.
"Prowl?" Jazz asked softly, "Are you okay?"
The twins turned around to face the only officers at their late-night gathering. Prowl didn't acknowledge Jazz, or frankly anyone for that matter. He stared off into space and seemed to be lost in his thoughts, sipping his own cube mechanically.
"Prowl?" Sideswipe asked, hesitating.
Sunstreaker put down his sketch pad roughly, shaking the table they were sitting at. Five pairs of optics swiveled to focus their attention on the golden frontliner, "Spill it Prowl. You've been moping around this entire time we've been sitting here and it's not going to do anything! Everyone has a secret they want to keep everyone in the dark about and it's never good, but we're your family, Prowl. Trust us."
The SIC slowly lowered his cube on the table, Jazz pretended to not notice the silvery sheen his optics held. Instead, he stretched his arm out to grip his friend's hand reassuringly; this did nothing to ease Prowl, if anything he grew tenser, staring at the hand as if it were a dangerous reptile.
The intense gaze the sociopathic sunflower set on the police cruiser proved to be too much for him. He stood up abruptly, knocking over his cube in his haste and all but sprinted out of the room, leaving five astonished mechs behind. Jazz was soon behind him, his saboteur skills giving him an advantage at tracking down the runaway tactician.
"What just happened?" Mirage asked, breaking the tense silence.
"…I think Prowl just had a meltdown," Sideswipe whispered, "I'm blaming you Sunstreaker."
The golden mech never took his eye off the seat where the officers recently sat, "…Jazz will save him," he whispered. He didn't know if he was saying that to reassure the others, or himself.
"Prowl! Prowl, man, WAIT!" Even though Jazz's equilibrium chip must be all fragged up from the highgrade, he wasn't letting something as little as a splitting headache stop him from saving his best friend.
Jazz caught sight of a pair of doorwings slipping past the doors of his quarters and made a mad dash to the other side of the corridor, and into the tactician's private quarters. He didn't make it quite in time and had to hastily stick a pede in between the door and the wall, wincing when his pede made a sickening crack.
He gave a relieved sigh when the pressure immediately ceased and he was yanked into the room. The Porsche gasped when he caught sight of his normally cool and collected mech completely collapse in his arms. "Prowl?"
The poor mech was sobbing unconditionally, Jazz's optics softened and his engine gave a small whine to try and see what was wrong with his best friend. "Prowl, man, what's wrong?"
The mech hiccupped and immediately righted himself up from his position in his friend's arms. He hastily wiped the cleanser fluid in his optics and tried to stifle the whine in his engine.
"Are you alright?"
No, he wasn't alright at all. Talking to Sunstreaker brought back more memories than he wanted. (Burning, searing heat in his chest, arms, everywhere. Make it stop, Creator! Please, help!) No one helping, no one coming. All alone, darkness, black, everywhere. Make it stop!
"I'm fine, Jazz," Insert fake smile, no it isn't wobbly at all.
Jazz snorted at that, "Like Pit you are! You were crying in here like your world just ended and probably were going to keep on doing that all night if Ah didn't come in here!" Jazz threw his arms out to grab his friend's arm. (No, no Creator! Stop!)
Prowl flinched inwards in himself, "Don't hit me," he blurt out impulsively, shutting his optics as an instinct. Pain (No! Creator, please stop! I didn't say anything I promise!) Never ending pain. The pain never stopped… (I'm going to teach you a lesson, boy!)
The saboteur's optics softened even further, "Oh Prowl…tell me what happened."
Prowl shook his head mutely, no, he couldn't tell. He couldn't tell anyone. Telling someone meant trusting, and he knew what happened if he even thought about trusting someone. He trusted Creator and Creator taught him what it meant to trust someone. (Do you trust me, Prowl? Good. Now do as I say…)
"Why not?" The friendly TIC nearly demanded.
"You wouldn't understand…" the police cruiser mumbled.
Jazz felt something well up inside him, well past pity for his friend. Anger. "What do you mean I wouldn't understand! Help me understand, Prowl! Trust me! Lean on me! I'm your friend, Prowl. You're my best friend! Why won't you let me in?" Jazz's anger deflated, "Why won't you trust me?"
Prowl felt more of his self-assurance rise up, feeling more like the 'bot his age, rather than the sparkling stage he had reverted too.
"I don't trust anyone, Jazz," he hissed.
"I'm not just anyone!" Jazz shouted, hurt, "I thought I was more than just somebot! I thought you trusted me."
"Trust?" Prowl asked bitingly, "Trust is nothing but a lie. You should learn that lesson, Jazz. Learn it before you learned it the same why I did."
Jazz's anger diminished completely, "Tell me what happened, Prowl. You don't need to trust me, just tell me what happened."
Prowl didn't answer, instead he turned around and unclicked the latches of his chest panels. Before Jazz could protest about saying 'that was so not what he meant,' he was choked off by a horrified gasp. Prowl's spark plates were completely mutilated. The edges were completely seared off and there were obvious signs of continuous melting. It was a dull gray shade with numerous scratches and dents. Prowl caressed one of his platings with a bitter smile on his face, before opening it completely.
Nothing could have compared Jazz for what he was about to see.
On the inside panel, there was a crudely written message that was burned into the plating, 'Trust is poison'
"Oh, Prowl…" Jazz whimpered in horror, "Who did this to you? I'll kill him! I'll murder him!"
Prowl's twisted smile only grew, "He's gone. He fell with Praxus. This was… my Creator."
"It hurts, Creator! Make it stop!"Young Prowl was only greeted by a cruel laugh.
"Learn your lesson, Creation. You trusted me, look what happened. Trust is poison."
…
"I'm so sorry, Prowl," Jazz whispered, keeping his distance this time. He wouldn't want to traumatize the poor mech even more, "If there's anything I could do; I'd do it in a heartbeat."
Prowl didn't reply for a while, only stroked the now closed spark plating, "It was a long time ago, Jazz. I learned my lesson."
Jazz leaned forward in anticipation, but Prowl never answered.
"Please…let me help you," Jazz pleaded.
"You can't save me from myself, Jazz."
A/N: Blech. Like I said, poorly written in my need to get it finished up before the night ends (stupid school). Anyways, this was how I viewed today, and no, before anyone starts calling Child Abuse, the way I viewed Prowl was like how I felt today. Except, not a physical, more like a verbal one. Please review. It'll make my life much more livable if it continues the way it has been recently.