A/N: Helllllooooooo everyone! First off, I want to send out a big apology hug to you all. I know I've been gone a long time (like most times I update) but hey, I'm here now! I actually thought for the longest time I had already posted this. :p I wanted this to be a bit longer but I'm afraid homework doesn't wait. Second, a big kudos to all readers, favoriters, followers and reviewers. You are all amazing enough to give me over 12500 views! Thats more than 1000 views per chapter on my first story ever. You guys rock. As usual, a big thanks to Starfire201, guess, Ninja Star Light, SilentMelodyz, Talltree-san, lesleym and Guest.

And yes SilentMelodyz you did spell it right XD For others who are a bit confused, Zosimo's name is pronounced Zo-(like zaw)- si-(Like in sing)-mo (Like mow). Hope that helps! ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, Chevrolet Camaros, Panamara stingrays or any other recognizable references in here. I only own the story plot line. :)

Warning: Suggestive themes, swearing... That's about it this chapter. Wow... How mild. Optimus may be a little out of character but I want him to have some normal emotion, and not "stiff" as guess put it! XD

This wasn't possible. It just wasn't. Jazz kept telling himself what Jolt had delicately informed him of was a joke, something to lift the Third in Command's spirits in light of his mate's recent hospitalization. But as the music lover sat stiff, mouth hanging open, staring shocked through his bright visor at the frowning apprentice, Jazz knew this was no trick.

Zosimo was going to be let go.

Optimus had made the decision to trade with Megatron for the humans without him or Prowl there to talk him out of it. How could he! Had his Commander completely lost it? He must have a screw or two loose because there was no way Jazz would let the ebony demon get away without teaching him a lesson first. One he would be sure never to forget.

Jazz sat hunched on his stool in the now dark med bay. Humans had all gone to bed except those on the ever hated graveyard shift. Some soldiers claim to have become nocturnal with how many shifts some of them pulled late at night and early into the morning compared to the near zero missions brought to the attention of NEST in recent months. However none slept peacefully tonight, as even unconscious humans and mechs alike were disgruntled by the looming threat of a bloodthirsty Decepticon a few hangers down that had proven to contain a near nonexistent amount of self control. All slept lightly and uncomfortably.

All except Prowl.

Jazz felt a small smile quirk up his lip plates. Prowl may be the biggest stick in the mud to have ever been birthed from the Well but he could sleep through a nuclear attack and zombie apocalypse any day. Something Jazz would never pass up teasing him over. Most mechs didn't know this though, as the saboteur would rather spend his nights curled protectively around his lover's frame than on the makeshift couch in their new rec-room.

His mate lay peacefully in recharge on the berth, new door wing fluttering slightly like the fragile wings of a resting monarch butterfly as it rotated slowly back and forth. Lying on his side, Prowl's plain black and white frame wrapped in on itself, cradling Jazz's clawed right hand clasped tightly in his left, pressing it against his warm chest as if affirming to his mate that he would be alright. Jazz's smile grew and he lightly ran his thumb over Prowl's black digits. Prowl was his anchor in the world, one that if was lost, Jazz was sure he would go mad.

His optics traced the up the strong thighs, wide hips and thin waist of his mate's streamline figure. When they were alone, Prowl was a whole other mech, creative, passionate, kind and a downright animal in the berth. All the things Jazz sought for in the perfect mate, sleeping against his plating every night. When more could a mech ask for?

Oh yeah, justice. Revenge. These thoughts entered his mind as he shifted closer to inspect the rows of jagged puncture wounds along Prowl's neck cables. It looked as if a Great White Sharkticon had taken a nibble and decided it liked how he tasted. Jazz growled lightly to himself. No one could bite his mate but him! Prowl was his, and his alone. Jazz pushed down his need to dominate the sick youngling now locked back in his cell with a few calming vents. There was somethings Jazz had seen, just before the mech had what appeared to be a bipolar attack. An innocence but at the same time a longing to be somewhere other than that interrogation room. It was a position Jazz remembered clearly in his mind, engraved forever as the moment he first met his mate. But based on what he knew, the ebony mech had felt no remorse over what he had done.

If Megatron wanted his monster back he could have him, but not without some answers first.

Bumblebee lay still on his berth at the other side of the hanger on his back, pressing his own pseudo-door wings what must be painfully to the surface. Apart from his earlier freak out, he hadn't spoken a word or even regained consciousness. Ratchet remained optimistic though, saying the scout's frame was fully repaired and whatever was keeping him in forced recharge was something Bumblebee would have to pull through by himself.

The young adult didn't deserve this; he was one of the most innocent mechs Jazz knew. Up to this point the war had done little to dampen his attitude. Even in the wake of losing his vocalizer in Tyger Pax to Megaton he remained cheerful in nature, always focused on brightening everyone's day with a well placed lyric or song coupled with a goofy dance move that sent everyone into heartfelt chuckles and laughs.

How a human could change him so much Jazz didn't understand. Sure, even without personally knowing the boy too well he was a good kid, but there was more to it, Primus forgive him for saying, then met the optics. The small glint that overtook the scouts gaze when he saw Sam, the need to be physically touching or close to each other in a way that dare he say was very much alike to how Jazz acted around Prowl. Was it possible the young mech had felt something for the human boy, and...? Holy Primus was the feeling returned!?

Jazz remembered the pure outrage that had taken over the cheerful Camaro when Mikaela had come crying to the base with her new love interest, begging the Autobots not to help Sam but to protect her and Leo should the Decepticons come for them next. Bumblebee had shrieked in anger and proceeded to rip his quarters apart from the inside out.

It had taken both Optimus and Ironhide to finally subdue him and even then they were struggling to hold the smaller mech from stepping on her. Apparently there had been some crazy love triangle or something going on behind Sam's back judging by the loud curses and accusations flung in Cybertronian at the quivering humans, sounding like the frenzied roaring of engines and computer generated squeals and chirps of mindless machines.

They had since closed the large rift between them, but nobody was fooled by the fake smiles and thin laughter forced dryly out of Bumblebee's repaired vocalizer, although no one ever said anything about it. The scout reeked of depression, only to have this thrust on him. Jazz didn't think even he could hold up through that without someone like Prowl helping him along.

Optimus had been in to visit earlier, before Ratchet had lost it and dragged the Prime into his office and proceeded to start a screaming match between the two. Zosimo was then carried back to his cell block drugged off some strange serum Ratchet had been playing with and given an Autobot guard to watch over him at all times. Optimus came storming back and barricaded himself in his office claiming to need to 'cool off and leave him the frag alone.' Something was wrong, and Jazz did not know what. He didn't like not knowing.

Zosimo recharged fitfully, back pressed against the wall of his cell. Sideswipe grunted, not pitying him in the least as he tossed and turned, whimpering as if in pain. Sideswipe sighed and leaned against the wall, inspecting his digits for dirt or rocks lodged between wires. He jumped with sharp intake when suddenly Zosimo sat up rim-rod straight and panted heavily yelling out. "Bumblebee!"

"Oi!" Sideswipe tapped his sword on the wall outside the cell to get his attention. "Keep it down in there or I swear I'll muzzle you!"

Zosimo huffed, crossing his arms around his legs as he pulled them up to his chest plates. His spark thumps wildly in his chest but he refused to let his anxiety show to the world. Instead he yawned, put on his bad mech cover and slumped back. He put his arms behind his helm and crossed his pedes and adopted his alter ego's customary smirk. If you're going to play the part, may as well play it well.

"A muzzle? Hmmmm... Someone's kinky."

Sideswipe rolled his optics and scoffed. "In your dreams, Decepti-rat. In your dreams."

Zosimo chuckled." They'd be pretty sweet dreams."

"You're disgusting."

Zosimo frowned. Well, at least he's blunt; he'd give the Autobot that. He didn't know much about the silver front liner or his brother, only heard stories from the older drones and Frenzy back on base. Sideswipe was the less violent one, the prankster who had the ball bearings to tackle Ratchet the Hatchet into the ocean on New Vorn's Eve back before...

There it is again; stop thinking in the past Zosimo. You're not that person anymore. You never were him to begin with. He was just a phase. A fake. Sam never existed, at least not to him. For his entire life he remembered being the way he was now inside, he just didn't want to scare people. So he played the awkward teenage boy to his friends, his family, and girlfriend. But never his lover. With Bumblebee he didn't have to hide, he was accepted and loved for who he really was.

And he went and blew it. Bumblebee would never trust him now, would never believe him when he revealed who he was. It hurt to know this. It hurt a lot.

He heard footsteps growing closer, but they were so light and steady he almost mistook them for his tapping fingers on the floor. The secondary keypad outside of the brig hanger beeped as someone entered the code and slid the door open. Zosimo tilted his head as the little silver mech stepped up to Sideswipe, whispering something into his audios. Zosimo strained to hear, but the short passing of commands ended before he could listen in. Sideswipe nodded and with a long lingering stare walked from the brig and reclosed the door.

The saboteur scowled at him before slowly lifting a claw and punching in the cell access codes. Zosimo raised an optic ridge and dropped into a crouch where he could easily launch into either offense or defense if the silver bot tried anything. But instead of marching in and beating him to off lining, Jazz stood and watched at the entry, non-moving.

Zosimo tilted his head in a predatory like fashion, confused. His crimson optics narrowed when the motion was mimicked, and he growled as his instincts realized he was in the presence of another monster. Someone just like him, only older, more experienced and far more deadly.

"You."

"Me." Jazz replied, finally padding into the cell to crouch at eyelevel with the shackled mech. He looked the other over, eying faint nearly invisible scars along the insides of his wrists and the light glinting off sharp canine denta bared at him. Jazz raised his visor and looked at Zosimo optic to optic.

"What do you want traitor? Screw me over like you screwed your own when you defected to be with your pretty Prowl?"

"Don't trash talk me, 'Con." Jazz said sternly. "If ya know who I am, you know that'll do you no good. Let's talk about something else instead, m'kay?" Jazz rested on his knees, supporting himself with his servos as he leaned forward. Zosimo leaned back, growling when the mech got too close for comfort.

"Why did you come here Decepticon? You had too many weapons to be reconnaissance and yet you carried a computer virus more complex than any of us have ever seen. You found your way inside our base and had a clear shot at assassinating each and every one of us, but you gave yourself away in a rookie mistake." Jazz smiled, but Zosimo had a feeling it wasn't in a good way.

"How ironic, that Megatron would get you the same way he got me."

Zosimo's chassis shuddered as he snarled a warning. "What are you talking about? He sent me to plant that virus and leave, that's it. What, not good enough for you? Not secretive enough?"

Jazz shook his head and laughed dryly. "He's got you wrapped around his finger and you don't even know it."

"What do you-"

Jazz lunged forward and pinned the writhing stingray to the cell wall by his neck, leaning back out of clawing range. "Heh, you're a newbie aren't you? Anybot trained for this would have seen that coming but you, nah." He shook his head, indifferent to the long bloody scrapes carving his arm as he held Zosimo back. "You're not cut out for this."

He jumped back and watched as Zosimo quickly drew in air to calm his systems. He rubbed his neck and winced, glaring at the silver mech. "Don't you think I know that by now?"

Jazz stopped, interest drawing him in as the mech in front of him reminded him more and more of a certain someone he used to be. He waved his servo as if to egg Zosimo on.

Zosimo however took it as a sign of mocking, as if he was being made fun of.

"Are you bugged traitor? What do you want from me!? To tell you I'm sorry? That I didn't mean to hurt your mate, that I don't care if Prime lives or dies, that I didn't mean to feel something other than hatred for one of you Autobots!? Well I'm sorry Meister but if that's what you're looking for you may as well leave now or kill me!"

Zosimo's panting was the only noise in the cell, Jazz silent as he stared.

"You really are alone aren't you?"

Zosimo's optics widened as he looked away, unable to look at the Autobot. At his pity. He flinched when a hand pressed lightly on his shoulder and he jerked his head towards Jazz, meeting his optics. He couldn't hold back his emotions and beat himself up inside when tears started to streak down his cheeks. Jazz raised a claw to brush them away but wasn't surprised when it was batted away.

"You may not realize it," Jazz spoke quietly, as if comforting a small child. "But you don't have to follow his rule anymore than I did."

Zosimo panted, trying desperately to call upon his other self to save him from revealing too much. He hated feeling this way, it made him weak. Vulnerable.

"You don't know me, you don't know anything!" He yelled.

"I think I know you quite well actually. Reclusive, cautious and yet overly outspoken, vulgar and completely insane. But you're not really, are you. It's a shield, a cover that you show others so you don't have to show them your true self. You don't have to be that person here."

He gripped Zosimo's shoulder harder. "Frag Megatron! Stay here! Here you can be yourself. You can get the help you need. You can start over."

Zosimo lowered his head, tears streaming down and plopping on the dirty floor. His chassis shook with emotion and he couldn't hold back a strangled sob.

"I can't. No! You don't know me... you don't know!" He yelled and shoved Jazz away, causing him to fall back.

He shied away and crawled over to a corner. Jazz followed.

"I'm not cut out for a life here. I like carnage, battle danger. I like being the bad guy. It satisfies my need for energon and it satisfies his for retribution. A partnership, plain and simple."

Jazz sighed and straightened up. "Optimus get a call from your Master. I guess that means you're goin' home then. You leave tomorrow."

Jazz moved away and left the cell but not before turning back. "When Megatron drives you off, remember you can get help here. Sure nobody would like you at first, but hey, they forgave me for my sins didn't they?"

With that he turned and left, passing Sideswipe as he came back in to watch over him. He sauntered back to the med bay, not exactly having the answers he wanted but now he knew Zosimo wasn't entirely unsalvageable. It was time for a new project.

Bumblebee drifted slowly in and out of darkness, waking from his deep slumber. He moved his arm, an uncomfortable twinge in his shoulder drawing him into reality. He felt blank, empty. And yet at the same time not. He heard what Ratchet had told Jazz. That his aggressor was going back to Megatron. Somehow relief wasn't what Bumblebee felt but sadness, depression was.

Bumblebee's optics on-lined to dim morning light streaming through the ceiling windows of the med bay, almost blinding his sensitive lenses after days of black. A slow steady beep next to him told him he was still recovering, hooked up to a spark monitor. He whirred, slowly raising a heavy arm to rest against his chest. Every movement took immense effort like they were tied down to blocks of cement.

But there was no time for rest. Zosimo was leaving today, and he had to see him. Had to find out what he knew and how Sam was tied into everything that had happened. He beeped lightly, moving his head to see the other occupants of the room. Slumped in a chair next to his berth Optimus sat back with his optics off, arms crossed in a light sleep.

Bumblebee moved his hand, poking Prime's arm and drawing him from recharge. Optimus awoke immediately, lenses focused on his adopted son in both worry and happiness to see his scout awake. Optimus stretched tense cables, and clasped Bumblebee's servos, stroking it lovingly.

"Bumblebee, you're awake." He rumbled.

"Optimus..."

"Don't strain yourself, young one. You need to keep your strength." Optimus pat his arm and stood up to get Ratchet. Bumblebee tightened his grip and although it wasn't very strong it got Optimus' attention. He sat back down, optics twinkling over the rim of his mask.

"Optimus, where... Where is that mech, the one Ratchet called Zosimo? The one that attacked me."

Optimus flinched and stuttered. "W-what? Why?" He squeezed Bumblebees servo lightly. "if you're worried that you aren't safe here-"

"No." Bumblebee said. "It's-"His voice hitched in pain. It was too early to think about things like that. Way too soon.
"I want to see him."

Optimus froze, shuttering his optics stupidly before asking steadily. "Why do you want to do that? He can't hurt you here and he's set to leave in a few hours, there's no need for you to-"

"Optimus, please. I need this. To-"He stopped, thinking on how to put it. "To know. I want to know why he did this to me. I have to if I'm ever going to figure out why this... why he means so much to me."

Optimus was shaking his helm all the while Bumblebee spoke. "You've just woken up Bumblebee; you don't know what you're asking for. Why don't you stay here while I go and get Ratchet, yes?" Without waiting for an answer Optimus stood and fled, the total awkwardness of the situation leaving him at a loss of what to say.

He knocked then opened the door to Ratchet's office, poking his helm around the corner to see him sitting idly at his desk mulling through paper work. The medic glanced up and placed his digital pen on the stainless steel surface.

"Optimus? What is it?"

"Bumblebee's awake, but I don't... I'm not sure if he's alright. He wants to see you know who. Something might be wrong with his CPU."

Ratchet nodded and rose from his chair. He opened the door to step around the tall flame painted Prime but stopped short, optics widening in shock. "Ummmm. Optimus-"He started. "Where exactly is Bee?"

Bumblebee sighed in annoyance. He may be the youngest of the Autobots but he knew what he wanted. Right? He needed this if he was ever going to accept what had happened. It may have just been the sedatives talking or maybe Primus was just fragging with him. Either way he knew what he had to do.

He pressed his servos against the berth surface, arms shaking at the stress of pushing his body up to a sitting position. One by one he swung his legs over the edge of the berth and grunted as he slid off the berth, legs wobbling when he tried to stand without leaning on the nearby bedside table.

Carefully and precisely, he lifted one pede and placed it down in front of him, almost losing his balance and falling to the ground. He could do this, one step at a time. Using the wall as support, he sluggishly padded across the med bay. He passed the isolation room and stepped out onto the sun lit asphalt tarmac. He grunted at the bright light but pushed himself away from the wall none the less. Arms held slightly out for balance he placed one pede in front of the other.

Remarkably, nobody stopped him. He didn't see anyone around but could hear the synchronized marching of soldiers and mechs to the north of the compound. They were preparing to leave and weren't taking any chances when it came to being outgunned.

Luck seemed to be on Bumblebee's side. He leaned back against the hanger in temporary use as the brig panting, catching his breath before shakily typing the numbers 2, 6, 7, 4 into the keypad. The light above the hanger door turned green signaling it's unlocking and Bumblebee pushed on the door. He staggered in and spotted Sideswipe, sitting out like a light with legs stretched out at strange angles. It seems everyone was getting as much sleep as possible for the risky operation later. Good, it made sneaking in easier.

Rounding the corner he saw the faint purple glow of an active cell's energy bars. His spark thundered in his spark chamber, wanting to escape and reach out. To what Bumblebee didn't know. He stepped heavily forward and glanced inside the cell. He stood there and stared, unspeaking and stiff. But the silence was soon broken with the sad burgundy lubricant dampened optics.

"Bee..."

Annnnnddd Cut! lol I'm so mean to leave a cliffhanger but how else am I going to keep you all on the edge of your seats? Zosimo's finally starting to revert to how he used to be. But I wonder how he'll act once he's back with the 'Cons... XD