CHAPTER 7
Dark Suspicions

"Jazz, can I ask you a question?"

It was the first time Conner had initiated a conversation, and as such, Jazz was surprised. The voice had come from down the hallway, as Conner jogged up to catch up with him. The mech only smiled though, and nodded. "Sure thing, li'l guy," he replied, tilting his head. "What is it?"

Conner looked at him for a long moment after he'd caught up. Jazz waited quietly for whatever question he was going to ask. He wondered if it would be important? A child-like question? What? "Well, I uh... I'm not sure how to ask this," he explained - trying to find a way to say what he wanted to. "Do you like me?"

Jazz looked confused at the question. Did he like him? For a moment he thought he might mean in THAT way. But upon further inspection, he realized otherwise. "Like, do I like spending time with you? Of course I do! You're a cool kid," he offered, though he did have to admit he didn't know all that much about him, but still knew he had to build his self-esteem. "What's got you asking that?"

There was silence after that, and for a moment, he wondered if Conner would reply. "I just... I don't know. I don't want to be a burden," Conner admitted. "I know you want to help me... But you don't have to. And you really can't, y'know?"

Jazz frowned slowly, taking that in. "Conner, I'm taking care of you because I wanted to. You don't have to worry about that. And you sure as pit aren't a burden," Conner was silent in response. "What gave you the idea you'd be a burden to someone taking care of you?"

There was silence - but Jazz was already putting two and two together. Had he heard those words from his parents? No. He didn't want to believe that. He wanted to believe that somewhere out there - this boy had parents waiting for him. And yet... He was scared to go back to them in a way. And now... A burden? Sure, he could have heard that from the people who kept him. But he had gathered they'd hardly taken care of him to make him a "burden" to any of them.

So that left him wondering...

"It's nothing. Just stuff I've heard people say."

"What kind of people? The pedophiles and slavers that have kept you?" Jazz asked.

"Some of them, yeah."

"Only them?" Jazz further inquired. "Because I don't think you'd be asking me specifically if it was just them. I take good care of you don't I?"

Conner looked nervous, his mind seemingly swirling in confusion. He shifted on his feet a bit. "Yeah... You're really nice. And you don't try to hurt me," he admitted, much to Jazz's relief - and uncertainty. "I just... You probably have more important things to deal with. It's nothing. I just felt bad."

Jazz wanted to ask Conner if his parents had said it. But at the same time, he also knew that was bad idea. It could scare the boy who was already starting to feel comfortable around him. "OK, I understand. You haven't been around people that care in a long time," he explained trying to keep calm. "Listen... I uh..."

It was a long time before Jazz could say what he wanted to say. His mind having to come to the conclusion it would be OK if he approached the subject the way he planned to. "Speaking of caregivers. I uh... We've been meaning to ask if you remember anything about your parents," you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. "I uh... Figure you were young when taken. But is there anything we might need to know? I mean."

His charge was silent as a church mouse. Looking unsure of how to answer that question just as much as Jazz had been unsure of how to ask it. They stopped in the middle of the hallway, and Conner leaned back a bit, his eyes darting down at the ground. "A little bit... I remember they were kinda rich or something, I think," he explained. "I remember we had a huge house, and dad drove a really nice car."

The red flags were coming already. He didn't think it seemed logical for a ring of child slavers to go after the kid of some rich people. They'd be affluent people and if anything - someone would want Conner and demand ransom at the same time he'd figure. Something was feeling increasingly wrong about this situation and he had a sinking feeling in his spark.

What if his parents had something to do with Conner disappearing?

Jazz gained his composure, and rather than ask about this, he nodded. "Well then, sounds like you could be going back to a pretty cool life, eh?" he asked, trying to keep himself calm. "Hey, listen, I gotta go talk to Optimus really quick. What do you say you go to the rec room and find something to watch on TV? I'll join you after."

Conner smiled at the change in subject. Thankful, Jazz watched as he nodded his head. "OK, I'll be there."

As the boy jogged off, clearly relieved to be off the subject, Jazz felt his tanks churning in a familiar way.


"What are you saying, Jazz?"

"I'm saying that something about Conner's situation doesn't add up."

Optimus leaned forward as Jazz stood in his office. He had called Prowl over com a little after he'd talked to Conner, believing that the three of them had to talk about this. Because the new information was greatly unsettling him. "Conner says his parents were probably rich, well off people. Which probably means they lived in a nice area, a nice home," Jazz replied. "I've done my research on kidnapping. I don't think I've ever heard of a RICH kid kidnapped to be a slave. That sounds like someone people kidnap looking for money, a ransom."

Prowl's doorwings twitched a little as he looked at Jazz. "They might not have known where Conner came from..."

"He offered Ratchet little information in the med bay when he first came here," Optimus admitted. "But he did say that he was specifically stolen from his home."

Jazz shuddered at that. Conner had once offered him something similar in the time since they'd started to form a friendship. Which was part of the reason it didn't sit right with him. "He's right, Conner said the same thing to me. Which makes me think... I mean I fragging hate to say this," he looked over at Optimus. "But he was saying he may not want to go back... A week or so ago. And now I'm wondering if he wasn't kidnapped at all."

It didn't take long for either one to figure out what Jazz was getting at. They had this sort of thing on Cybertron during the war - when things got desperate. Sure, no one gave their sparklings over to mechs like this. But rather, there were cases of people that had sold their younglings simply for the scraps of credits to get by. It had been truly disturbing. And this, this was worse...

Because if these people were rich, they hadn't even sold Conner out of some sort of desperation. In fact, Jazz couldn't wrap his mind around why someone like them would ever do that... "You think that his parents might have willingly sold him to a pedophile ring... Slave ring... Whatever this is?" Prowl asked, his next words being full of conviction. "Think carefully, Jazz. That is quite the thing to accuse someone of."

The special ops mech looked at Prowl firmly. "Something is not right here, Prowler. You know it, I know it. And until something he says or does tells me otherwise, I ain't taking chances," Jazz explained. "I'm Conner's guardian. And it's my job to keep him safe. Which means until I know where he's going is safe, I say we ain't gonna hand him over to any human."

This time, Optimus was the one to speak up. "I agree with you Jazz, which is why I am glad you brought this to my attention. Prowl and I have been discussing on when it would be best to bring him to authorities," Optimus explained. "As it did not seem he would open up to us. We had hoped, perhaps, that he may tell them his last name. That they may be able to find his home."

Jazz shook his head. "Yeah, but none of that matters if they just turn around and give him back," he explained, his voice dark. "I ain't gonna give him over to those people until I know they weren't involve, Prime. That ain't even me talking as a guardian. That's me talking as someone with a fragging spark."

"I whole-heartedly agree," Optimus responded. "Given this new information. It is best we do keep him for as long as it takes for him to give answers to that."

"How do we know that won't be years?" Prowl asked. "I agree we cannot give him over knowing what we do now. But we must also look at this from human perspectives."

Jazz shook his head. "And any human would see where we're coming from. Think of it Prowler. We could hand him over, he could go back to those people. And the next day he could be gone," Prowl hated it when Jazz was right sometimes. "Screw the human laws. This is a little boy's life we're talking about - and he's lost enough of it."

Prowl sighed, his doorwings bristling a little. Jazz knew that he was frustrated and torn between his instincts as a cop, and his instincts as a sentient, kind creature. But he also knew what would win out... "Very well, then he stays until we can analyze his situation thoroughly," Prowl turned his head. "Are we in agreement there?"

Optimus had a look that said he was deep in thought. No doubt weighing every option carefully as he often did. Even so, such thoughts took all of five minutes. "I am in agreement. Jazz, are you sure you can handle having him for as long as it takes to asses the situation?" Optimus asked. "Prowl is right, it may be some time..."

Jazz shrugged his shoulders in response. "What better have I got to do in-between crushing 'Cons. I like Conner, he's good company," he explained. "And he's starting to trust me. So I'm not about to up and take that away from him."

The Autobot leader nodded, satisfied with Jazz's answer. After all, he was not a mech that was known for lying. And frankly, he also knew that Jazz was becoming increasingly emotionally invested with this boy and that also added weight to it. "Very well, then that is settled. Conner will remain here until we have made a full assessment on his parents and their involvement," he then added. "I simply hope we are wrong - I'd hate to think someone's creators would do something so vile."

Prowl replied with the dark answer. "I didn't want to believe this pedophile thing could happen on Earth either. But child-selling happened on Cybertron. So I regret to say that I am not as shocked as I would like to be," he admitted. "And if these people are rich and sold Conner. They are most definitely a special kind of evil."

"Anyone who'd do that to their kid is." Jazz reminded him.

And he swore, if these parents were indeed that special kind of evil. Well, he swore with every fiber of his being that they would not be allowed to take this boy's life away from him again.


"So I'm going to stay here a while then?"

"Looks like it, li'l guy."

Conner stared at Jazz silently as they sat on the couch in the rec room. He looked unsure of what to say for a long moment, not sure whether to get upset, or be relieved. It was pretty clear that Conner wasn't sure what he wanted - but after a few moments, he replied. "Can I ask why? I thought you guys would bring me to the cops pretty fast."

Jazz thought quickly this time, knowing he would need a reason that would not give things away. "Well, frankly, shorty. We think you're safer here for the moment," he explained. "I can't really tell you why. But I want you to know, nothing's gonna change because of that. You'll stay with me and the second we're sure of your safety off the Ark. We'll bring you back."

Conner was silent for a moment. Jazz knew that he probably had been kept in places for a long time, and maybe, just maybe he was gaging whether this was a good or bad thing. Whether Jazz really meant what he said about keeping him safe. Frankly, he figured he was thinking a lot of things, but as he was no mind reader he was left wondering until he finally spoke up.

When he did, his response surprised him. "OK."

"OK?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah," Conner replied, his voice quiet. "If you were going to hurt or use me. I figure you would have already. And I guess I really can't say much. I can't go up against giant robots. So just... OK."

Well, that was certainly a better answer than Jazz had expected. He sat there for a long moment, reading the boy's features. And for the first time - noticed something he hadn't before: real trust. Perhaps hope this was a sign that Jazz was reading between the lines, that he was actually looking out for his well-being. Perhaps not as much as Jazz would have liked, but enough that Conner wasn't afraid to be there or with him anymore.

It was only a start, but a start was better than nothing. "Good, I'm glad you're OK with that," Jazz explained. "So, did you find anything fun on TV?"

For the moment, he told himself, regardless of what life he came from, at least he could use this time to give him the life he deserved.


A/N: Woo, that was hard to type/write out in a way that came off good in my mind. Hopefully this paid off though!