AN: This story is set in my AU. It may or may not make it into the larger fic I'm writing about this universe. Requested by darkdaebereth over on LJ.

SN: M, for implied slavery and other issues that come along with that.

Naïve

Jazz held the youngling to him, glaring as anyone who dare came near. The gray youngling, barely more then a sparkling really, recharged uneasily, tormented by the memory of his city falling around him.

Jazz felt like screaming, as he readjusted his grip. This little one had already been through so much, too much. The sole survivor of his city, he had watched everyone he knew, everything he was familiar with be destroyed in front of his eyes by the Decepticons. It almost would have been kinder for him to have died with the city, rather then to have come to the attention of Megatron.

Jazz himself had been here for almost a vorn, himself not much older then the mech he held in his arms. However Jazz felt so much older; one grew up quickly as one of Megatron's pets. When Jazz had been dragged in, the situation had been much different. Jazz's family had been destroyed vorns ago and he had survived on his own, until his capture. Life as Megatron's pet hadn't been much different then life on the streets. There was the constant jocking for position, trying to gain and retain a position that would keep the Decepticon leader from getting... bored with you. Betrayal was common, expected, and Jazz was good at the game, despite being one of the youngest. No one helped him; he helped himself.

But the youngling in his lap would not survive without help. Up until an orn ago the little one had had a family, a home, a life. Now he had nothing. Nothing... but Jazz. Jazz refused to let the youngling get crushed by the older pets.

Less then a joor ago, the youngling had been carelessly tossed into the room, where all the Pets stayed when they were not summoned by Megatron. The little mech had been in the center of the room, shaking and staring, optics wide. Jazz had felt his spark go out to the little one, but taking care of another was a way to weaken yourself. He had managed to ignore the smaller mech, until one of the large mechs had taken an... interest.

Unable to sit back and watch the youngling be further destroyed, when he could prevent it, Jazz had placed himself between the two, with a loud claim. Most of the larger mechs stepped carefully around Jazz. Not only was he an effective combatant on his own, he was also one of Megatron's favorites, and no one wanted to frag off Megatron.

Within breems the two youngest mechs were a unit. Jazz informing the other on his new life, as he tidied the smaller, silent mech. "Any questions?" he asked, as he briskly dried the youngling.

"Why?"

Jazz twitched an optic ridge.

"Why me? I'm not going to be able to help you. I'm only a hindrance."

Jazz looked thoughtful for a moment. "Because its the right thing to do."

Which lead them to where they were now. When the whimpering got more intense, Jazz gently coaxed the bot towards wakefulness. Upon waking the younger buried himself in the elders arms, attempting to shut out the memories.

A commotion at the door distracted them both. The guards. All the pets stood at attention; Jazz slightly in front of the new arrival as if to shield him from the sweeping gaze of the guard. An unseen signal, and Jazz felt the rough hands on his frame, and heard the youngest cry out in pain. Going limp as the two were retrieved, Jazz could only pray that what was coming would not irrevocably destroy Bluestreak.