Update, yay! So, I'm sorry about the cliffhangar in the last chapter... I understand that it was somewhat cruel... But anyway, here's a new chapter! I hope you like it!

Also, big thanks to the following reviewers (you guys are the best!): Gemava, MoonWallker, Icesong180, Pixelusprime, Crazygrrl XD, Move-2-da-beat-femme, RagdolDark, Geuss, Lair of the Twisted Muses, Bluebird Soaring, SunnySidesOfBlue, Golden Eagle 603, ThemSoundwaves, Chistarpax, Lake-erie, Qwertzu824. Daklog73, I Love the Lambo Twins, and Decepticop647!

Wow, there were a lot of you. Thank you so much for the support, I hope you like this chapter!

::Prowl? The prisoner wants to speak with you. Apparently, you're the only one he'll speak with. He... he keeps saying 'I want my cutie-pie'.::

Prowl's body stilled until it was almost frozen. Then, like a coiled spring, he snapped to his feet and left his office. He had been waiting for the call for several hours now, and waiting tensely. It was only a matter of time before the saboteur would have asked for him, after all.

He was at the brig in record-breaking time, and Ironhide raised an optic ridge as he came barrelling through the door. "Ya okay, there?"

"Fine." Prowl said shortly, gazing into the interrogation room through the one way mirror. He didn't see what he had expected to see, however; instead of the sleek, polished silver mech he had expected, he saw a scuffed black and white ruffian sitting slumped in the chair. The red visor was cracked, and he was covered in dirt. Some unknown emotion coiled unpleasantly around the tactician's spark, and his tanks roiled anxiously.

"He hasn't spoken before now. You goin' in?" Ironhide demanded. "Prime gave you permission to talk t' him while he's away talkin' with Megs."

"Yes, I know." Prowl said, voice tight. "Let me in."

Ironhide nodded at one of the guards, who opened the door and stood back for them. The big red behemoth led the way into the interrogation room, and stood back for Prowl. "Ah'll be outside. Comm. me if ya need anything."

"Thank you." The tactician said stiffly, watching his comrade leave. The moment the door closed, he carefully took a seat opposite the Decepticon. "Hello, Jazz."

The black and white Decepticon was chained to the table he was sitting at (even though they both knew he could get out with nearly no effort), and he looked up and smiled weakly. "Hey, Prowler."

There was silence for a very long moment, where they both simply stared at each other. Finally, Prowl said "What are you doing here?"

"Yo' friends captured meh."

"You would not be here if you did not want to be. So why are you here?"

"Maybe Ah wanna be here." Jazz frowned behind his visor. He tried to shift in his seat, but his chains prevented him from moving very much. "Maybe Ah missed ya."

"Then you should not have left."

"Ah had ta!" Jazz looked honestly surprised. "Didn't ya know that?"

"Know.. what?"

"Ah wasn't good f'r ya, Prowl." Jazz shook his helm, and his visor flickered unstably. "Smokescreen told meh-" he broke off suddenly, visor brightening. "How is Smokey?"

"Recovering." Prowl said shortly. "He was shot to the left of his chassis, but it missed his spark entirely. Another shot destroyed his doorwings, but your field repairs allowed Ratchet to salvage the base of them. He is rebuilding them now."

"Good." Jazz murmured, seemingly lost in thought.

"What were you saying?" Prowl pressed when it seemed like the saboteur had forgotten his presence.

"Hm? Prowler?" Jazz tilted his head, as though surprised to see him there. As if he had forgotten where he was. After a moment, it seemed to come back to him and he nodded. "Oh yeah. Well, Smokey told meh that Ah couldn't hurt ya. That ya wouldn't ever recover if Ah did. So Ah couldn't stay. Ah'm me. Ah.. Ah can't have somethin' wit'out breakin' it. So leavin' was better."

"No, it wasn't." Prowl frowned severely. "It was absolutely not better. And you look awful."

Jazz let out a short bark of laughter. "Yeah. Ah know. Ah feel awful, actually. How's Bee?"

"Actually, he hasn't been handling your departure very well. The only reason he is getting through it is because Bluestreak and Spectrum have been very kind to him-"

"Spectrum?" A snarl crossed Jazz's face, and he sat up straighter in his chair, causing all the chains to rattle.

"Yes, Spectrum." Prowl said coolly. "And don't you dare act offended or angry."

The saboteur made a strange noise and curled into himself on the chair. "Can Ah see him? Bee, Ah mean."

"I do not think that would be a good idea." Prowl said stiffly. "Not until you tell me why you are really here."

"Ah told ya, Ah just-"

"Did the Decepticons send you to spy on us?"

"Wha'? No!" Jazz recoiled in shock. "Prowler, Ah-"

"Then why are you here?"

Taking a deep intake of air, Jazz spread his hands on the table (as best as he could considering he was chained) "Ah'm here 'cause o' meh, not the 'Cons. Ah'm here 'cause you an' Bee are here. Ah'm here 'cause-"

"Jazz, perhaps I could find all this more believable had you not left."

The saboteur flinched. "Yeah, Ah know. Ah get it. Ah'm not gonna leave again."

"Actually, I believe Prime is negotiating your release with Megatron."

Every coil and strut in Jazz's body tensed. "Wha'? No, he can't."

Prowl's optics narrowed. "Well, he is."

"Frag." the red in the Decepticon's visor flickered, turning white for a split second before darkening to a deep scarlet. "He'll kill meh."

"Why?" Prowl frowned, watching Jazz's every move. It seemed the saboteur's mental condition had declined radically since the last time he had seen him.

"'Cause Ah left." Jazz slumped again. "Ah was on probation f'r leavin' the first time, and now that Ah've left a second time? Nope. Ah'm dead."

"Simply say you were captured."

A roar of laughter burst out of Jazz's chassis. "Good one! Ah don't GET captured." His laughter stopped as suddenly as it had started. "He's gonna know Ah'm comin' t' the Autobots on purpose. An' Soundwave covered for meh once, but he ain't gonna do it again-"

"Soundwave covered for you?" Prowl arched an optic ridge, storing that piece of information away for later.

"Yeah." Jazz muttered. He began abruptly staring at the ceiling.

"Jazz?" Prowl frowned at how quickly his ex-lover's attention had vanished. "Jazz, look at me please."

Dazedly, the saboteur looked back to Prowl. "Oh. Hey, Prowler."

"Hello, Jazz." His frown deepened, and Prowl found himself actually getting frightened. "Tell me, are you injured?"

"No." Jazz smiled dreamily at him. "Ah've missed ya, ya know."

"Yes, you've said." Prowl spotted a deep gash running from the saboteur's neck to his elbow. "You also said you were not injured."

Jazz tilted his head curiously. "Ah ain't, Prowler. Ah'm just fine."

"You are leaking energon slowly through a large cut on your arm."

His face morphed into a look of confusion, and he stared down at the cut on his body. "Ah don't know how that got there."

"I will call Ratchet."

"No." Jazz murmured, tearing his gaze away from the gash on his arm. "Ah'm fine. It doesn't even hurt."

"That is not good, Jazz."

"Ah'm fine. Just fine."

Prowl stared for a long time. "What happened to you?"

"Ah told ya, Ah don't remember-"

"No, not the injury. I meant you. What happened to you to cause your sanity to decompose like it has?"

"Ah'm not insane."

::Prowl, it's time t' move 'im into a secure cell.:: Ironhide's voice announced over the comm. line.

::Acknowledged.:: Prowl sighed, breaking optic contact with the saboteur. "You are to be moved now to a secure temporary cell. Optimus will be back soon with the result of his negotiations with Megatron."

"Ah don't wanna go back."

"Then why did you leave?"

"Prowler-"

"I have to go." The tactician stood up sharply. "Ironhide will be in to move you in a moment."

Jazz watched the SIC leave the room in silence.

...

"He says he wants to stay here at Iacon." Optimus said calmly, regarding his Second over the desk.

The tactician was sitting stiffly, and he pursed his lips as his Prime spoke. "I doubt he is telling the truth."

Optimus sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Prowl... He is the same Decepticon who stayed with you for so many months, isn't he?"

After a long pause, Prowl said "Yes."

A wry smile crossed the Prime's face and he nodded. "He cannot have changed that much, can he? Ah, love is complicated."

"It is illogical, and love is not what this is." Prowl said coldly.

"Of course." Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Silly me. As it is, I believe Jazz is willing to defect, should we give him the choice." When he received no answer, he continued, "I am planning to give him the choice. Naturally, he will need to stay in the brig for a while longer whilst we secure the base and inform all the mechs here. I am sure many of them will not be happy about having a former Decepticon on base, but I'm sure they will trust you to keep him in line."

"Sir..." Prowl trailed off, uncertain about what he was trying to say.

"I know." The Autobot Commander interrupted. And it seemed he really did. "But you need to confront your issue with him. Anyone who wishes for asylum from the Autobots shall at least have their case heard."

"I do not-"

"Simply talk to him and work out your problems," Optimus interrupted again. "I am sure Bumblebee would be ecstatic to see him again."

"I... I will think about it."

"Good. You are dismissed."

With a nod, Prowl got to his feet and left his commander's office. He took an intake, before making his way to Bluestreak's quarters to collect Bumblebee.

It was Bluestreak who opened the door to him, and he smiled warmly. "Hey, Prowl! How are you?"

"Fine." The tactician forced a smile in return. "How are you, Bluestreak?"

"Oh, I'm pretty good actually. You actually just missed Sideswipe and Sunstreaker leaving; they were here for a while, and they were playing with Bee nearly the whole time! Bumblebee has had his energon and he had a nap earlier on, but he got very upset-"

"Upset? Why?" The question turned out much sharper than Prowl had originally intended, and he winced slightly.

"I'm not sure. Sideswipe mentioned the Decepticon we have in the brig and Bumblebee freaked out a little bit. We calmed him down, but we don't actually know what was wrong. He didn't want to tell anyone, and I didn't pry because I understand if he wants to keep somethings to himself. I remember when I was a youngling, I wasn't really too great at keeping things to myself because I talked so much, but there were definitely things I wished I had kept secret. Like when I stole energon goodies from the cupboard. But I'm better at keeping things quiet now! Like I haven't mentioned my relationship with the twins in ages-"

"Bumblebee was upset?" Prowl tried to ignore the rest of what his adopted creation had said, and instead focused on his OTHER adopted creation. "Where is he?"

"Oh, Bumblebee?" The young gunner called over his shoulder. A moment later, Bee's face peeked around the door frame. "Here he is!"

"Are you alright, Bumblebee?" Prowl asked, scooping the youngling up into his arms. "Bluestreak tells me you were upset earlier."

"I'm okay." With a murmur, Bumblebee buried his face in his guardian's neck.

"Okay. We will talk when we get back to our quarters, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Goodbye, Bluestreak. Say goodbye." He murmured to the youngling in his arms. Once Bumblebee had politely said his farewell, Prowl turned and made his way back to his quarters.

...

Prowl stood in front of the energon bars and gazed into the cell. "Jazz?"

The Decepticon was curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth and clutching his helm. Little whimpers were escaping from his lips, and his visor was dark and offline. He didn't answer.

"Jazz."

A flinch and a tremor seized the saboteur's small body, and he shuddered. "Y-yeah."

"Look at me."

Slowly, Jazz raised his helm from his knees. His visor flickered as his vision came online, and the dark cell was bathed softly in red light. "What?" He whispered.

"I am coming in, okay?"

"You sure that's a good idea?" Sideswipe asked, tightening his grip on his photon rifle. Both of the Terror Twins had been ordered by Prime himself to accompany the SIC to the brig to talk to the Decepticon, just in case Jazz was more unstable than anyone had predicted.

"He will not hurt me." Prowl assured confidently; more confidently than he felt.

After a moments hesitation and a glance at his twin, Sideswipe nodded and deactivated the energon bars. Training his rifle at the prone Decepticon, the frontliner nodded at Prowl. "Be careful."

The SIC remained silent as he slipped into the cell, never taking his optics off of the mech in the corner. As he approached, he couldn't help but assess the damage of his former lover.

Jazz's armour plating was dirty and his paint was scuffed. His visor was severely cracked, and barely hanging onto his faceplates. Several cuts all over his body were sluggishly oozing energon, and his fingers kept curling and uncurling into the floor.

"How did you get these?" Prowl frowned, pointing at the wounds. When the saboteur didn't answer, Prowl frowned severely. "Did you do this to yourself?"

"Mmhm." Curling up tighter to himself, Jazz peered at the tactician over his knees.

"And your visor?"

A very tiny sarcastic smile crossed the Decepticon's face, and for a moment he looked like the old Jazz. "Tha' was the big mech. Think his name's Ironhide."

The tactician made a silent promise to have a talk with Ironhide later. "I see. Bumblebee has been asking for you."

That at least caused the sorry-looking mech to perk up. "How's Bee doin'?"

"He is dealing as well as could be expected."

"Is the pleasure-bot still lookin' after him?"

"Jazz." The SIC sighed slightly, looking mildly resigned. "It would not kill you to be polite."

"Humph." The unstable Decepticon rested his helm against the wall and stared at his knees again. "Tell meh 'bout Bee."

Staring indecipherably at him, Prowl nodded. "He is having a hard time, to be perfectly honest." He glanced outside the cell at the twins, but they seemed immersed in their own conversation. "You know he does not deal with separation well, particularly after the demise of his creators."

Still staring guiltily ahead, Jazz dug his clawed fingers harder into the ground. "Yeah. Yeah. Primus. He must hate meh."

"Of course he does not." Frowning, Prowl shuffled closer to the mech on the ground. Jazz shied away, and the tactician stopped immediately. "Jazz... What has happened to you?"

"Nothin'." It was so quiet it was almost a mumble; as though he were talking to himself. "Ah'm fine."

"If you consider yourself fine, you must be deranged."

A flinch, and Jazz curled into himself even further. "Don't. Don't call meh tha'."

A sick feeling coiled through Prowl's spark, and he reached out a hand tentatively. He stopped just short of touching the dirty, scuffed arm, fearful of the reaction it may glean. "My apologies. I did not think over my words."

"Prowl? Are you apologising to the 'Con?" Sideswipe frowned, watching them through the energon bars. Sunstreaker remained quiet, but he too watched with narrowed optics.

Prowl didn't deign to look around, much less reply. He simply kept his optics trained on Jazz. After a long pause of staring at his legs, the saboteur raised his head and gazed back steadily. "S'okay." He whispered, hugging his legs. "Remember Ah told ya that yo' wouldn't like meh very much if ya knew what Ah was really like?"

"I know very well what you are truly like. And it is not this. Nor is it what you are when you are with the Decepticons. It is something much better."

A breathy little laugh escaped Jazz, and he glanced away. "Thanks, Prowler. That's a nice li'l sentiment."

"I mean it." The tactician murmured, moving closer so that the twins, who were listening closely, couldn't hear their conversation. He reached out and gently took the smaller mech's hand. The fact that the obviously mentally unstable Decepticon didn't pull away instantly was a small victory in and of itself. "This broken creature in front of me is not Jazz. The violent and sadistic Decepticon is not Jazz either."

The saboteur murmured, leaning in closer and tightening his grip on Prowl's hand. "If he ain't any of that, Ah don't know who he is."

"Jazz is special." A small smile tilted the corners of the stoic Praxian's lip components. "He doesn't care what anyone thinks about him. He is loud, and bold, and laughs when he shouldn't. He is infuriating, and amusing, and outrageous. He denies caring for anyone, even when he cares an inordinate amount. He denies that he's hurting inside, even when I have seen inside his processor and his memories, and I know exactly how much he's hurting. It's almost as though he doesn't want anyone else to be burdened with his feelings.

"And though he is known throughout both the Decepticon and Autobot forces for being merciless and cruel, I have seen him saving a youngling from the ruins of Simfur. I have seen him playing with that youngling. And treating the youngling the way all younglings should be treated; which is amazing considering his own experiences in his youth."

"Huh. Sounds like an amazin' guy." With an exhausted and slightly sarcastic smile, Jazz looked away again.

"He is. And there's still so much I need to learn about him."

"'Need to'?" Jazz tilted his helm curiously. "Tha's a bit-"

"No, it is not." Prowl cut him off. "It is simply a shame that he is acting like such a fool at the moment."

A brief wince, and the saboteur peeked up at the tactician. "Seems like a stupid mech."

"Far from it."

Jazz sighed, and rested his chin on his knees. He lifted the hand that was entwined with Prowl's to his face and examined it closely. Without looking up, he spoke again. "Ya look tired."

"Work does that."

"Yeah. Congratulations on Second in Command."

"Thank you." Prowl couldn't bring himself to be surprised that Jazz knew.

"Five minutes left of visiting time." Sideswipe called out suddenly.

The sound of a new voice penetrating the quiet intimacy in the cell caused Jazz to jerk in surprise. The sudden movement caused what was left of the visor still clinging to his face to shatter. A loud gasp was rent from his vocaliser, and he automatically grabbed onto Prowl. The tinkling of crystal hitting the floor was absurdly loud.

"Sideswipe, I am Second in Command; thus, limitations such as visiting hours do not apply." When Prowl spoke to the 'Bots behind him, his voice was icy. He turned back to Jazz and made an apologetic face. "I am sure we will be able to get a new visor for you."

There was no verbal reply. Instead, Jazz's fingers clenched on air and his mouth opened and closed anxiously. A look of pure panic crossed his face, and his intakes began working harder as he started hyperventilating.

"Calm down. We will get a replacement visor." Prowl frowned at the severe reaction. "Look at me; you will be fine."

It was only when Jazz's face turned towards him and stared unseeingly over the tactician's shoulder that Prowl realised he was seeing the other mech's optics for the first time; they were pale grey, and light silvery scars ran over and around them. The crystal they were made from was warped and damaged, seemingly beyond repair.

"You are blind." The Praxian breathed, doorwings flattening against his back in pure shock.

Jazz flinched back, as if expecting to be struck. "Ah know."

"But-"

"Ah don't wanna talk 'bout it. Please."

The tactician fell silent, gazing at Jazz's sightless optics. After a moment, he spoke again. "I would like you to explain tomorrow."

Visibly perking up, although only slightly, the Decepticon said "You're comin' back?"

"Of course." Prowl murmured, squeezing the blind mech's hand lightly. "Someone has to attempt to convince you to defect. Apparently, I am the best candidate."

"Defect..." The word was mumbled curiously, as though it was something new and unheard of.

"Yes." Prowl stood calmly. He was unwilling to leave Jazz alone in the state he was in, particularly now that he was blind. But he was painfully aware of the twins outside the cell, waiting to lead him out. He patted the black hand that was curled into the ground. "I will be back tomorrow."

Jazz lunged towards the sound of the tactician's voice so quickly that the sounds of twin rifles powering up hummed in the silence. But rather than attacking anyone, Jazz had latched onto Prowl in a death grip of a hug. "Promise." He whispered into the tactician's audio receptor. "Ah don't wanna be alone down here. Don't make meh be alone. Promise."

"Of course."