Sorry for the delay I meant to have this up a couple of weeks ago, but life disagreed with me. Then I got Dragon Age and people wanted to start drama and ruined my happiness. But the muse came back and thus chapter six was born.

Warnings: violence, language, mention of non-con, angst

Transformers don't belong to me, wish it did, but it doesn't.

-thinking-

-flashback-

:bond:

And now chapter 6, I hope you enjoy.

The Decepticon groaned as her system came online. She noticed that there was no pain in her hip. Alarmed, she sat up and immediately fell back down in pain. Apparently her new welds didn't like the idea of moving.

After a few minutes of lying on her back and staring at the ceiling, she decided to try to sit up again. Slowly she sat up ignoring the sting of her wounds, and took in her surroundings. It quickly became obvious that she was on the floor of some cell. If she listened close, she could hear the hum of the electric bars of her cell. She wasn't on the Nemesis, but that fact gave her little comfort.

Where the hell on this disgusting planet was she?

Examining her body she found that she was correct in assuming her body was covered in welds, but now she had two more questions to solve. First, when was she injured? Second, who repaired her?

Scooting back so she could lean her back against the wall, the Decepticon began to access her memory files.

She watched in anger and fear as two jets flew over her. There was no doubt they were hunters set loose to find anyone foolish enough to leave Megatron's command. Her sensors sent another enemy alert as two more Decepticons came up behind her on the road. Putting her engine in full throttle she made a turn to see an Autobot in her way.

Slag.

The yellow Autobot transformed, prepared to take on all five Decepticons. Revving her engine she easily sped past the idiotic fragger. Looking back she watched as the two ground cons collided with the Autobot. Now that two of her pursuers were distracted by the Autobot, she could get rid of the two fliers. Increasing her speed, she hoped that somehow she could outrun them. It seemed to be working until she heard the sound of missiles and saw ash and flame. Transforming, she began shooting at the jets above her. Then pain washed through her frame as shots hit her back.

Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room. The Decepticon femme onlined her optics to see three mechs walk to the front of her cell. One was a large black mech, weapons online and ready to use. Ironhide, weapons specialist he's smarter than he looks she mused. Turning her attention to look at the one walking between the other two, the obvious leader was huge. He must be Optimus Prime. But what caught her attention the most was the shortest of the trio. The silver mech seemed familiar, she knew she'd seen him somewhere before. She knew his name: Jazz head of Special Ops and Prime's first lieutenant.

As he came closer she felt a small pull on her spark. She narrowed her optics that was not normal. - That's strange. My spark shouldn't be acting this way. Maybe it's a sign of the end.-

The three stopped several feet away from the cell. The tallest of the three stepped forward and spoke, "I am Op.."

"I know who you are, ya giant pile of scrap metal", the femme sneered. Great, she just had to be picked up by Autobots. It was like Primus had decided to use her for some kind of sadistic joke. "You're Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and the last descendant of the Primes. The old piece of junk next to you is your Weapons Specialist, Ironhide. The midget to your left is your first lieutenant and head of Special Ops, Jazz."

"You seem to know about us, young one, but we know nothing about you", the Prime replied. Young one? She was an assassin for Primus' sake! She had mercilessly killed dozens of Autobots. She had even taken out one of the most powerful Senators of Cybertron and he had the nerve to address her as young one?

"Actually sir…" All optics turned to Jazz. "I have an idea on who he is."

Perfect. First Prime had addressed her as a youngling and now the runt thinks she's as mech, how had the Autobots survived the war was beyond her. They couldn't even tell what her body type she was. She sulkily watched the silver mech as he told his commander all the information he had on her.

"Vorns ago while on Cybertron, there were at least three dozen Bots were killed. Most of them were officers and those working directly under them. The rest were senators."

"I remember. Investigations determined that they were all assassinated by Decepticons," Optimus replied.

Jazz nodded. "Mirage and meh went in to see if we find anythin' on who Megatron sent to do it. We didn't turn up a name. The only things we could turn up was a description of white armor and sensory panels."

"Which our guest fits perfectly," Prime concluded.

"You got it, Boss Bot."

With a nod of his head, Prime turned his attention back to the Decepticon. "Now that we have some idea of who you are, would you tell us your name?" the Prime asked.

Her engine rumbled as she watched the Autobots. This was humiliating or at least it would be if she didn't abandon the Nemesis. But she had, and now she was here. But as long as she was here she might as well make her stay entertaining.

"Noneya," she told Prime.

"Nunya?" the leader replied, confused.

She nodded. "Mmhm. Noneya as in None ya business."

"Why you disrespectful…!"

She chuckled as the Prime and midget struggled with the large black mech as he attempted to get through the cell bars to her. Her amusement was cut short when a pulse seemed to move through her chassis, starting at her spark and moving outwards. Frowning, at the sensation she shuddered as a weaker pulse went through her. She had no mate, so the only reason for the pulses could be no other than Barricade.

"So Prime.." She grinned as the Autobots stopped their bickering and returned their attention to her. "Tell me, how is dear old Barricade?"

She yelped in pain as the midget dragged her to the front of her cell and pressed against electrified bars. – How did that happen? His arms weren't long enough to reach me from his position?-

Even with a visor covering half his face, she could see the rage on his face plate. She'd bet the whole solar system that the silver mech would dismantle her in the most painful way possible and would dance on her remains if the other two weren't there.

She struggled to get away, but failed miserably as the mech's grip tightened. The electricity from the bars burned her, causing her wounds to reopen. Energon trickled down her body as she tried once again to escape the smaller mech's hold as he dragged her closer to him. A growl escaped his vocalizer. The tone of his voice made her energon run cold.

"His name is Prowl, you sick fragger. If you ever get near him I'll…"

"Jazz, control yourself!"

"Put him down! Stop it!"

Instead of listening to his fellows, Jazz slammed the Decepticon against the bars. She cried out as the electricity flowed into her wounds, energon now pooling at her feet.

:NO!:

"Prowl!"

The silver mech dropped his prisoner heard and ran to the brig's exit. The attack ended as abruptly as it had started. The last thing the Decepticon heard as she slipped into stasis was someone yelling, but it seemed so far away.

"Ironhide, get Ratchet!"

Prowl was sitting in the dark. His sobs had stopped as memories had finally passed. For now.

If he focused he could feel Jazz, despite the block in their bond that had been put up. Prowl was relieved to find that Jazz's rage towards him was forgotten. Right now, Jazz was more focused on his concern for Bumblebee and curiosity about what he couldn't tell. He sighed, knowing that Jazz's lack of attention was only temporary. Once he was done with his duty and had visited Bumblebee he would remember the feelings of hurt and betrayal and come searching for Prowl.

Prowl's optics dimmed in exhaustion. Really, Jazz has no reason to be angry with him in the first place.

Yes, he does. You didn't tell him

"There's nothing to say," Prowl whispered. Why couldn't the voice just leave him alone? He felt tired and sick. He didn't want to hear it anymore, he just wanted to recharge until Barricade's memory faded from existence.

Liar

"No. It's the truth."

It's not

"Yes it is! I'm not him, I'm not Barricade!"

You were

Whimpering filled the room. "I'm not."

He cried out as Blackout finally disengaged himself. At least he didn't use restraints on him this time. His scratches and bite marks minor, only a few dribbles of blue blood leaking out. He stood up to get to stretch his joints, optics on Blackout, waiting for him to leave so the youngling could return to him. It saddened him that he had to send her away, but after last time when she lashed out, he refused to give Blackout an excuse to lay a claw on her.

"So where's that brat of yours? I'm surprised it hasn't torn my optics out."

"None of your business," he responded, facing away from Blackout, fists clenched. He refused to give the sadist the satisfaction of knowing he was starting to get to him. "We're done here, now get out."

Chuckling Blackout headed towards the door. "I'm goin', I'm goin'. I'd watch that runt closely if I were you. Quite a few mechs have been watching it, if you know what I mean."

He waited for Blackout to leave, before unclenching his fists. He couldn't wait for the day Blackout would get himself deactivated. Growling, he began to seal up the marks Blackout was so kind enough to leave on his chassis. Although he should probably be grateful that Blackout wasn't in a frisky mood, but there were so many of them. Maybe if his creation came back soon he wouldn't have to spend all night sealing them up.

Suddenly his spark jumped as if someone had just injected liquid nitrogen straight into his veins.

He hurried out of his quarters into the hall. Looking around he turned all his sensors on high. His doorwings twitched as they picked up vibrations off the wall to his left. Heading towards that direction, it wasn't long till he heard the crash of metal and the angry trills and whistles only his creation would make.

Turning the corner, he lashed out with his blade wheels and smirked at the feel of slashing into metal and the yelp of pain. He looked down to see the youngling laying her head against his thigh. He could feel the pain from her dislocated doorwings and relief of his arrival from her. Sending a wave comfort to her, he turned his gaze to Sideways.

"Don't you ever touch her again," he growled. "If I catch you, I'll tear your spark out."

What did that memory prove? So Barricade protected his little minion, what did it have to do with him? He just wanted this nightmare to end.

You protected your child.

No. "She's not mine. I'm not Barricade."

She is. You were. Why deny it?

"Because I'm not him. I never was!"

Liar

"No."

He watched with satisfaction as the youngling was silent as he twisted her arm back.

"You've improved," he rumbled. "Remember, the panels on your back are as vulnerable as they are useful. Many opponents will go after them, like this." She screamed.

His body shook with disgust. How could someone torture a sparkling and justify it as training?

To make her stronger, so she could survive. That's why you did it.

No. I didn't." It wasn't him.

Liar

"Primus! If you don't hold still, I'll let that little parasite weld your aft together!"

The youngling looked over her shoulder. "But I don't like the doctor. It's not my fault. How was I supposed to know that Soundwave had booby trapped the ventilation system!" she shot back.

"That's why it's called training! So if something similar to this does happen when you're on an actual mission you're prepared for it!"

"Yes sir."

He grunted and continued the repairs.

No. No. That wasn't him.

It was

He watched as she fell to floor. Her optics glowing with repressed rage and defiance. It didn't take long for her to assert herself now that she had her adult upgrades. She growled, a hand pressed to the cut on her face plate. "I'm sick of him. If I can't get rid of him myself, why not let someone else do it? Or maybe the Autobots could have him to pick at?"

"Because I will not be held accountable if Blackout were to let anything important to slip into the Autobots' hands," he responded.

No! "I'm not Barricade! I never did…"

You did because you were Barricade

"No!"

He waited at the rendezvous point. Disposing of dear old Senator Ratbat had been no problem for his little assassin. Not only was the fool out of the way, Soundwave would have a new pet soon. Pride swelled in his spark, his creation had done well again. Now if she would just get here. He was brought out of his thoughts as his sensors picked up a familiar presence. He looked up to see a white form coming close.

"Any difficulties getting away?" he questioned.

"Nope," she replied. "Just had to take the long way to avoid the crowd."

He nodded. "Good work. Let's go."

NO! "NO!"

Yes

Anguish filled his core as Prowl broke down again.

I feel like I'm being so mean to Prowl

Again sorry for the delay, I'll try to have the next chapter up in a week or two, but no promises.

Review please