Alright, my evil processor is at it again! This idea popped into my head, and by Primus it would not go away till it was on paper (well on the laptop).

This is intended to be a one shot because I got few ideas to continue on. If you guys want it to keep going I'm going to rely on the readers and reviews for ideas. Also, for those that are stumbling across this fic first, I'm doing a mass update. This means that my two other stories, Nightspark and Incompatible will be updated as well. Chp4 for Incompatible and Chp9 for Nightspark. Go ahead and check out those two if this isn't your style. Each story is different.

WARNING: Implied rape but no actual written out actions so that's why its rated T. I'll say it again, this is not your average happy-go-lucky transfomers fic.

So I hope this is something decent and not another in-the-middle-of-the-night-created-by-insanity story. Review please!

It was simple, really. No one ever wanted him, that's why his creators dumped him all those vorns ago in some dark alley in a Decepticon ridden city where no decent being would go. It was there and then he learned the truth. He wasn't fit for mainstream, he was just there to be used and pushed aside when done. But, if that was his purpose then who was he to argue? That's why he joined the Autobots. He at least had some sense of right and wrong, and in the army, well they would just tell him what to do and he would execute it perfectly least he be punished.

Jazz was a soldier, and that's all there was to it. A simple machine told what to do and did so without pause. He was incorruptibly loyal and most importantly, unquestionably dedicated to executing out his orders without hesitation and unmatched precision. Yes, Jazz was the perfect soldier.

It's how he climbed the ranks so quickly. He had no friends to tie him down or give him emotional distress. All other soldiers were concerned with trivial relationships or problems and never fully dedicated themselves to one thing like Jazz did. Jazz's processor was focused on one thing, and one thing only, to follow orders. The others were always tied down to other tasks, their attention caught by multiple meaningless things like having fun, dating, and dreaming of a bright future. Jazz pitied them for knowing so little. Didn't they realize all these things they enjoyed were temporary? Happiness wasn't forever, nothing was. The only things certain in life were death and pain. It was why he distanced himself from them and over time they learned to stop asking him to hang out or for his option on a significant other. So he was now alone and he was just fine with it. Being alone meant no one could hurt him or take advantage if he accidentally dropped his guard. It was because of this that he easily excelled and soon found himself aboard the best ship of the faction and under the best leader known to all his kind, Optimus Prime.

However, unlike any other soldier, Jazz felt no pride, no accomplishment for what he had become and what he had achieved. No, he knew well it was just a phase. Eventually he would complete their desires and get cast aside. It always happened, there were no exceptions. He learned that the hard way having to grow up on the streets on Cybertron in a Decepticon populated town. In such a place there was no mercy for the abandoned sparkling of an Autobot. Jazz had quickly learned his lesson and has worn a visor ever since. He hadn't shown his optics to any living soul throughout the universe. He had even squirmed past medical exams without having to reveal them. It completely unsettled him to have someone see the most vulnerable part of his frame.

"Jazz," a voice called to him down the hallway. Jazz was returning to his room since his shift just ended. His life was simple. Work, recharge, and refuel. None seemed to bother him for it. Still, maybe someone else wanted to use him now. Wordlessly he turned around and saw it was the newly appointed 2IC.

Jazz inclined his head to show he heard Prowl and was waiting for what the CO was going to say.

"Just wanted to thank you for the excellent reports. I've never had a single soldier follow the regulations so perfectly and give such detail. It makes my job easier to not have to hunt you down and ask exactly what happened."

"That's all?" Jazz asked. He hadn't moved yet. It was only a matter of time before the 2IC told him what he really wanted.

"Uh…" Prowl hesitated, Jazz was the one mech who could catch him off guard with his distant personality and some how got him talking more than he usually did to other soldiers, "Well, I'm off shift too and not really tired. Do you want to, I don't know, get some energon?"

Jazz stared at Prowl for a moment. What did he really want? He mentally shook his head. Did it even matter? Prowl would come to it eventually, they all did. With a quiet sigh that didn't reach the other mech's audio receptors, he nodded.

Prowl gave a small uncertain grin but when it wasn't returned it slid off his face and instead he fell into step beside Jazz silently.

Jazz didn't notice the awkward silence that had settled between them once they had sat down at a small table. There weren't many conversations in his past other than giving orders and asking a few technical questions, but he could tell that Prowl, however, was uncomfortable with the lack of communication as they merely sat opposite from each other sipping energon slowly.

"So…" Prowl hesitated deciding it was up to him to break the silence since the mech before him gave no indication of doing such. He was unsure what to say, Jazz really threw him off and it was something that didn't happen often. The silver mech was so strange and distant. It almost seemed as if Jazz was detached from the universe and only interacted with others when he had to.

Here it comes, Jazz thought and set his energon down to give full attention to Prowl to make sure he heard everything right the first time. From experience, some mechs didn't like to repeat, Jazz learned that painfully a few times.

"Where you from?" he asked. Jazz leaned back. It was a question no one ever asked him and truthfully, he didn't know how to answer? He gave a shrug, what did it matter?

"Grixilro," he answered.

Prowl looked at Jazz in shock.

"The…the Decepticon city?" he stuttered. Wow, this mech was really something.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Jazz wondered if he should tell the truth or if he should come up with some elaborate lie that his parents were spies and heroes. It made little difference if Prowl knew and subconsciously tightened his grip on his empty energon cube before answering.

"My creators took me there and left me alone in one of the many dark alleys of the city. They didn't say anything and I haven't seen them since."

Prowl would have spilled his energon if he hadn't already emptied the cube when it slipped from his hand in shock and tumbled to the ground. A sparkling being abandoned was unheard of. Even among Decepticons.

"They never came back? How old were you?" he asked quietly.

"Can't remember. Time runs together when you live off the streets. When they left me, I was classified a youngling. I had just been given my second frame."

"So young," Prowl whispered. The thought of what Jazz spoke of was horrifying and the fact the mech had raised himself on the streets without protection from a creator was processor blowing.

"Are you a Con seeking to go against your parents' ways or were you born Autobot?"

"Autobot but there is nothing about this faction to do with them. They revoked the Autobot ways vorns before I was sparked."

Blinking his optics, Prowl froze as he stared at Jazz wondering how he spoke about such painful memories so coolly.

"Do you know why they abandoned you?" he dared to ask.

"Just like everyone else does. Because I served the purpose they needed and one orn I wasn't necessary any more."

A missing piece of the virtual puzzle within Prowl's processor fell into place and he looked at Jazz in shock.

"Like everyone else? That's why you joined the army, to be used because that's what you think you are, a tool?" Prowl exclaimed. It really started to explain much of what most of the crew said about Jazz. The mech worked hard and executed orders perfectly but kept mostly to himself. Jazz never refused to do anything and once it was done he would ask if there was more to do, but if there wasn't he would disappear.

How much pain had the mech dealt with to be such a broken soul? Prowl asked himself silently. What had he been subjected to, to have something this cruel done to him?

"Yes. Here I am told what to do and I do it. Don't worry. It will come to an end. It always does. I'll get tossed aside but then I'll just move on to the next mech or femme that needs to use me."

"How can you say that? I don't want to use you. I just wanted to know you, be a friend."

"Friend?" Jazz echoed, confused. He had heard of the term before but never fully understood its function.

"Yes, it's when two can be together without using each other. Instead they enjoy each other's company and help, not force each other to do things."

"That is not my path," Jazz said simply, "I am done with my energon. I shall return to my room."

Prowl said nothing as Jazz stood and left quickly without even a look back. He knew it was going to take time, a lot of time for Jazz to change, if he ever did. The situation was out of his hands, the 2IC wasn't programmed for this sort of thing, this was something Ratchet needed to know.

"Ratchet, I must speak with you, it's urgent," Prowl said once he found the CMO in his med bay.

Ratchet didn't seem to hear him as he franticly rummaged through dozens of data pads on his desk in near panic haste. However, he did notice Prowl and answered without looking up.

"What? Make it quick, I'm busy."

Prowl was a bit thrown by the medic's behavior but Ratchet had always been one absorbed in his work so he answered as told, "There is information I learned recently that you might want to know. It's about Jazz."

There was a sudden pause in movement when Ratchet looked up. Jazz had always been one mech that puzzled him same as Prowl. A soldier that never was affected by Ratchet's satire and never once complained about pain. He didn't even hint at asking for painkillers.

"Well? Say it quick. I'm in a rush," Ratchet snapped when he realized what he had been doing just a moment earlier and went back to shifting through data pads.

"I just learned…well Jazz told me about his past," Ratchet gave him a brief glance before snatching up one data pad, "His creators abandoned him on the streets of a Decepticon city when he was barely in his second form. He grew up on his own."

"What!" Ratchet screeched dropping everything and jumping up, "Why doesn't any one else know about this? How could he get into the Autobot army without some sort of back ground check?"

"I don't know," Prowl defended, backing away from the outraged medic, "This is what he told me, and Ratchet, he was not lying."

Ratchet stared at him for a moment in shock but an alarm beeped from his wrist and broke the frozen posture.

"Slag!" he cursed and darted to a room, and forgot the data pads.

Prowl wondered what was happening and followed.

"Primus," he gasped when he saw what Ratchet was so worried about.

On the table was a small protoform that was obviously severely damaged. Protoforms were delicate, fragile things. It was the reason why sparklings were carried in holds within their creators' chests till they received their frames. The tiny form on the table was critically damaged, wires torn, any soft armor metal dented or ripped off. And, it made Prowl's spark ache to see the interface port's covering was ripped off and there was obvious rape damage. Who could do such a cruel thing to something so delicate and small, to something so innocent?

"Primus gave up on this one a long time ago," Ratchet muttered, "I'm doing all I can but I don't think he'll make it."

"Who? Why?" was all Prowl could ask.

"We found a pair of deserters that broke off from our faction a very, very long time ago. They had been leaking information they knew to the Decepticons. We found them at home and this little one chained in a back room with the pit fraggin mech on top of him beating him and forcing the sparkling to interface. Primus, I've never seen anything so horrible. He was silent, just lying there and I knew it wasn't the first time. This amount of damage done to his interfacing system is caused over a long period of time."

"What happened to the creators?" Prowl managed to ask, dragging his optics away from the cruel image of the beaten sparkling to look instead look at an emotionally beaten Ratchet.

"Pit slaggin glitches are in the brig. With Sunstreaker and Ironhide guard, I don't expect them to be alive tomorrow and I've deactivated the emergency medical alarms in the area. I told the two if they get hurt in the process they can comm. me personally."

"Wait, this is one theirs?" Prowl asked, it was one thing to rape a sparkling but it seemed impossible for the very creator of the sparkling to do it.

"Yes. His facial plates hold a remarkable resemblance to his mech creator's," Ratchet growled.

"Did you test them to see how many times they have sparked?" Prowl asked, a horrible feeling was creeping into his frame as his thoughts turned to the recent discovery of Jazz's past.

"No, didn't think of it. Why?" Ratchet asked, not sensing the same connection.

"Two reasons. One, there might be more damaged sparklings they've hidden or possibly killed. Or two, they may have in one point in time had a sparkling and abandoned him, say in Decepticon city," he explained and Ratchet shook his head sadly as the 2IC continued, "Jazz's situation is unheard of and with this one here it can't be a coincidence with the parents being Autobot deserters."

"One way to find out without tests," Ratchet said sadly. He could see Prowl's logic and it made his spark flare with anger if it was indeed true. Those two slaggers would not have only destroyed the life of one sparkling, but two. They deserved worse than death. "I'll call Jazz. By what you told me he should have been at an age where he will remember what they looked like."

"This could be bad," Prowl sighed.

"I know, but we have to know. If Jazz really is the spark brother of this one, it could be a key in helping the sparking survive."

Ratchet ordered Jazz to report to med bay, and as always he arrived not even a breem later. Prowl waited in the main area to speak with the mech so he wouldn't see the sparkling's condition.

"Jazz," Prowl began delicately. Ratchet was still in the room trying his hardest to keep the sparkling going, "we've captured two Autobot renegades and we need your help."

"My help?" he asked, not understanding why he was needed to identify two traitors.

"We…we think they might be your creators," Prowl said softly.

Jazz flinched and took a step back. It was the first time Prowl had even seen an emotion from the mech as fear and pain flashed across Jazz's face.

"Come here," Prowl said, motioning for him to follow to the room with the sparkling. Jazz obeyed quietly and stood beside his CO in the doorway where Ratchet was with the sparkling.

"We found this sparkling with them. At the time, his creator was forcing an interface with him."

Prowl froze when he looked over and saw Jazz's fists clench tightly as he began to shake slightly.

"Where are they?" was all he asked but the rage and pain in his voice terrified Prowl that the 2IC didn't want to think of denying the request. Even Ratchet was shocked, pausing from the treatment for a moment.

"Follow me."

Jazz went with him silently but Prowl could feel the anger and hate radiating off the mech's frame as they headed towards the brig. This was most likely going to end badly.

The guards were absent from the door and Prowl sighed knowing most likely what was happening. He couldn't blame them and wouldn't even think to give punishment. It wasn't a pretty sight to walk in on such a destroyed sparkling and he knew well that Ironhide, a trainer for young soldiers, and Sunstreaker, a soft spark for the young ones, wouldn't take to it kindly since they had been with the original party which found the creators in the act.

A bang than a grunt solidified Prowl's assumption as they entered and headed towards the back.

"Ironhide, Sunstreaker," Prowl called, "stop."

They paused their blows that were effectively turning the mech into a scrap heap.

"You wouldn't stop if you knew," Sunstreaker snarled, kicking the femme bound at his feed.

"I have seen and you're right. However, there is one matter that needs to be handled before I look the other way," he said.

"What?" Ironhide asked, surprised Prowl was actually saying he wouldn't punish them and noticed Jazz next to their 2IC.

"Bring them forward so Jazz can see them clearly," he instructed and Sunstreaker and Ironhide dragged the two renegades closer into the light.

Jazz was visibly shaking now and took a step forward. He was about to say something but all that came out was a deep snarl before he flew at the mech, punching and kicking viciously.

"Jazz!" Prowl yelled, grabbing the mech and dragging him away as he screamed in rage.

"No! Let me go! I will make them pay for what they did to me!" he yelled, struggling to get free.

Ironhide and Sunstreaker looked at Jazz with a mixture of shock and confusion. The mech was always silent and closed off and never shown such emotion before.

"They ruined my life! They abandoned me, left me for dead!"

The femme started to laugh, her voice so vile her words seemed to poison Prowl's audio receptors and seep into his frame.

"So you slaggin freak, you lived," she said, "a surprise, I was sure you were too weak to make it on your own. That's why we dropped your aft in that Decepticon city. One look at those Primus damned blue optics and some random Con would have come up to frag you quick then get rid of you, doing our job for us.

Ironhide began to understand what was happening and looked at the femme with clear disgust.

"You left me, alone!" Jazz cried, "After all the torture, the beatings, the interfacings, you dropped me like scrap once I was no good to you!"

Prowl stiffened, he should have realized what had happened to the sparkling with Ratchet probably was a repeat from Jazz's experience. It was all too horrible to compute.

"What do I care? You are a fraggin worthless sparkling, not good for anything other than a nice tight slag."

Jazz shook with rage as energon tears were ran thickly down his face, but the femme was undeterred from her verbal abuse and continued.

"Then over time the damage was irreversible and you became useless. You stopped screaming and crying. You know how he likes it when you scream. That's what happened to the little slag we have now. He went quiet faster than you did. Hasn't cried a single word in ten orns. He use to beg at my feet for food but he stopped eating too. We were just gonna slag that tight little port of his one more time and dump him, but this time we would have done the job right and killed him ourselves."

Sunstreaker, still holding the femme, was horrified at what he was hearing. Creators of not one but two sparklings had tortured and broken them beyond belief and thought of it as sport. It was disgusting, gruesome. They were below even Decepticons. Megatron could be an Autobot compared to these two pit forsaken beings in the brig.

Jazz gave a wail of agony as her words assaulted him and brought back all the pain he had pushed down and away countless vorns ago.

"No!" he screamed, "I have a spark brother! A brother and you did the same to him. My brother and now he'll probably die!"

The mech laughed loudly as if it was the funniest joke he heard in his life.

Jazz couldn't take any more. He managed to get free and flew out of Prowl's hands straight at the mech. His creator was dead before Ironhide could even react and by then, Jazz was advancing upon the femme.

"What? Stop! I am your creator! You obey me, Thiv!" she yelled, shrinking back against Sunstreaker but the mech let go and backed away. He couldn't bear to touch her any longer. He had never felt so contaminated in his life.

Jazz jerked to a halt at the name. Old memories mixing with new, his processor didn't know present from past and as his conditioned response as a youngling, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head in submission as he had done all those times as a beaten sparkling. He wasn't in control of himself anymore. The femme owned him. He was hers to do with what ever she wanted. He could already feel her and the mech forcing him, violating every part of his frame.

Prowl saw the sudden change in Jazz and it broke his spark when he realized what was happening to the mech. Even after vorns of separation, Jazz was still broke, forced to bend his will to the creators that had done so much to him. Prowl couldn't take it any more. He didn't even notice he had killed the femme till he saw the energon staining his hands.

"Prowl?" Ironhide asked in shock, "Did you just kill a femme who provoked you in no way?"

Prowl sent him a murderous stare and the weapon specialist backed off. Ironhide meant no offense; it was just one more thing the Autobots had never thought to see and added to the processor-blowing situation that had unfolded around them in such a short amount of time.

"Jazz, come on. They're gone, forever," Prowl said quietly, reaching out to touch Jazz on the shoulder. The mech flinched at the touch and recoiled. Prowl dropped his hand. What could he do? Jazz was broken and had yet to realize his creators no longer had a hold on him. Jazz shook his head slowly and hugged himself as if only his arms were the things holding his broken frame and soul together. Painful gasps and whimpers escaped the mech as he began to heat rapidly.

"Ironhide! Get First Aid immediately!" Prowl yelled as he realized Jazz was falling into some sort of shock.

He could hear the silver mech's systems working over time as Jazz suddenly doubled over and purged his tanks of everything they held and gave another dry heave before collapsing to the ground whimpering. It physically hurt Prowl to see the mech in such a condition.

"What is going on?" First Aid asked in alarm seeing the two dead captives and Jazz on the ground trembling and crying.

"We'll answer that later. Just help him, I think it's some sort of shock."

First Aid knew better than to question Prowl, the most logical mech of all Autobots, and pulled out a scanner running it over the silver mech quickly.

"It's a mixture of anxiety and sudden spark loss. He lost either creators or a sibling," First Aid said, oblivious to the fact that the two very beings responsible were next to them.

"Can you do anything?"

"Send him into a forced stasis till his systems calm and his spark ceases erratic behavior."

"Do it. Quick, he's suffered enough."

Confused at Prowl's concern for a mech it seemed hardly any one knew First Aid just silently complied with the order. Jazz was limp soon and Sunstreaker scooped the mech up.

"I'll help Ironhide clean up, you go with First Aid and tell Ratchet it was a confirmed match. He'll know what I mean."

Sunstreaker nodded and followed First Aid out of the brig towards the med bay leaving the weapon specialist and 2IC alone with the tasking of cleaning up the evidence of murder and the two spark-empty frames.

"I never, never even guessed that Jazz had been…" Ironhide said, trailing off as he struggled to think of such a devastating life like Jazz's.

"I know. He just recently told me, and then this. It doesn't seem fair. Ratchet doesn't even know if he can save the sparkling. Did you guys really walk in on…that?"

Ironhide gave him a pained nod and they worked in silence for the next few breems. This was going to be a lot of paper work and possible brig time for himself and Jazz, but he would fight to keep the silver mech out of it. The last thing the abused mech needed was to be locked up.

"Come on," Ratchet begged, "fight! You can make it!"

Prowl dropped his head when he heard the CMO's shouts over in Jazz's room. The sparkling was declining and fast. Ratchet had done all he could do but it was up to the sparkling to pull through now. The little mech had to have the will to live but Prowl couldn't blame the child for wanting to leave this life after such pain and betrayal.

Jazz was still out due to Ratchet's orders since he didn't want two broken mechs on his hands to deal with.

"He needs a reason to live," Optimus said. He decided to be with the sparkling they rescued incase he really didn't pull through so that it wouldn't leave the universe alone and uncared for. Luckily, it also kept the leader from learning what had happened in the brig since Ironhide and Sunstreaker were pulling extra shifts to keep others from finding out till Optimus himself asked what was happening. It meant Prowl and Jazz were safe from the brig for now.

"How can I do that?" Ratchet asked desperately, "he hasn't been conscious since we brought him in."

"It may seem barbaric, but how young can a spark be to merge and create a bond?" Optimus asked. Prowl heard Ratchet loudly gasp but it wasn't in repulsion.

"Any age, we just stress it in the community to wait and make sure they want such commitment. If we can get a mech or femme willing to be with him always, raise him, heal him, it could work. It has to be a mech that can deal with all the pain and be strong. And a mech who will have the will to restrain from interface unless the sparkling wants it and only when he is old enough."

"Give me a list," Optimus said.

"Only of those I deem capable. Ironhide, Hound, Prowl, Jetfire, Acree, Inferno, and well sir…you."

"Alright. It's an extremely demanding decision and I don't want to force upon any one else. I'll take the responsibility."

Prowl blinked in surprise looking over in the direction to where Optimus, Ratchet, and the sparkling where. Optimus was going to bond himself to a broken mech in a last attempt to save the sparkling's and heal him.

"It needs to be done quickly!" Ratchet said suddenly, "His spark is weakening, he's already fading."

Prowl didn't hear anything but movement next then a loud gasp.

"Thank Primus," Ratchet sighed a few nanoseconds later, "it worked. You're bonded with him. He'll need a designation."

"Maybe one day he'll be bright and cheerful again. For that hope, I will name him Bumblebee."

"Interesting choice," Ratchet began but Prowl looked at Jazz's monitor suddenly when it began going haywire, flashing some alert he didn't understand.

"Ratchet!" he yelled.

The medic was already there, checking over Jazz franticly and cursing at the same time.

"He's fading too. He's giving up. Prowl, will you do it?" he asked knowing full well the 2IC heard what happened with Optimus and Bumblebee.

Prowl nodded. He knew deep within his spark he was always drawn to Jazz, broken or not.

"Get into position. Quickly."

While he crawled on to the bed and on top of Jazz, Ratchet worked quickly to open the silver mech's spark chamber. Prowl watched and concentrated on opening his own. It was extremely hard to do when not in the process of interfacing but after a few moments he succeeded.

"Lean down slowly. Just put your sparks together. That's all it is," Ratchet instructed.

The pure pleasure, Prowl could not begin to describe, but suddenly he was knocked back by a dark waves of depression and pain. Jazz lashed out with his violent emotions. He couldn't take it any more, he wanted out. Just let him be, let him die in peace. That's all he wanted. His brother would meet him soon so what did he have to live for?

:No: Prowl said through their new bond, :Your brother lives to fight another orn. Optimus has bonded with him to give him life, and hope, just as I have done with you. I want to be with you. I want to help you, and give you something you have never had:

:Let me go: Jazz moaned through the bond, :You say my brother lives and I know Optimus will care of him so there is no need for my life. He was the only mech I knew kindness from, until I met you. I do not deserve life anyways. I threw mine away:

:Yes you do. I want you to live and be my spark mate forever. I will help you down this trying road. It will be long and painful but I will be there, forever. I want to be with you:

Prowl could feel the mixture of emotions through the fresh bond as Jazz struggled with himself to trust Prowl. He had been betrayed and abused for so long in so many ways he didn't know if he could give in and allow the 2IC to help him now. So many others had promised to be gentle to not hurt him and once he had been used, he realized it was all lies, but he had sensed something different in Prowl, just as he had sensed it in Optimus. In the end, Prowl won and Jazz's systems began calming, his frame cooling down as he embraced the bond and pulled himself back towards life.

"I never thought I would give out a prescription for spark merging in this med bay," Ratchet murmured as Prowl slumped over and rolled to Jazz's side once it was done and their connection ended.

"Never thought I would be the one carrying it out," Prowl added, his optics darkening.

"Get some rest. You're going to be in for an extremely long process as you two worked through this together."

Prowl nodded slowly as the world darkened around him and the only thing that didn't fade was his new partner's presence. Jazz's spark flared within his own hoping that maybe for once he finally could become whole. Yes, Jazz was sure that of all other mechs, it was this one who could do it. Only Prowl could heal his broken spark.

Well? What did you think? Reivews Reviews!

And don't forget to check out Nightspark and Incompatible!