Title: The past will catch up with you

By: Fianna9

Prompt: Locked up secrets revealed

Verse: G1/AU (Watching verse)

Rating: T

Warnings: mention of sexual abuse, prejudice

Summary: Prowl can't keep what happened to him hidden from Jazz forever

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.

A/N: This takes place about two vorn after Jazz finally convinced Prowl to go on a date with him. They haven't been intimate yet. This takes place shortly after Halloween Drabble 1.

Bold = comm speech

Italics = internal thought

Jazz waited until the door had closed before perching on Prowl's desk. The Praxian didn't even look up at the familiar performance. "What do you want, Jazz?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to get some energon with us, Prowler?" Jazz reached over and tapped on Prowl's datapad.

"Us?" Prowl smiled and moved the datapad away from Jazz.

"Yeah, my best friend just transferred here, and we're meeting in the rec room. You'll like him; he's a hard worker and a good mech. And Blaster's symbionts are great little guys."

Prowl's sensory wings flinched back sharply. "I won't be able to join you. I need to finish these reports, Jazz."

"Now?" Jazz whined, "You've put in a full shift and a half, Prowler. You need to get out and refuel."

"I'm busy, Jazz." Prowl pretended to refocus on the report in his servos. "Perhaps Mirage can meet you tonight?"

"I'll ask him, but I'd rather have you." A hurt expression flickered across Jazz's face before he turned and left the office.

Prowl sat frozen for a moment before comming Red Alert. Please keep an optic on him.

Which one?

After a moment's hesitation, he replied.Both of them.

Already being done, bitlet.

Thank you creator.

-Four orn later-

Jazz was startled when he and Blaster walked into the staff meeting. Prowl was seated between Ratchet and Red Alert. For the first time in a vorn, Prowl hadn't saved a nearby seat for him. Mildy confused, Jazz took the seat on the other side of Prime near Ironhide, Blaster sitting down next to him. Prowl didn't look over at them once during the entire meeting.

After the meeting was over, Red Alert began talking to Blaster about a potential communications security issue; Ratchet cornered Jazz to discuss Mirage's injuries during his last mission. When Jazz looked over, Prowl was gone.

-Five jour later-

They appear to be friendly. Maybe they really are different from him.

Appearances can be deceiving, Creator. Please remain alert for trouble.

That's Red's job, bitlet, but I'll keep an optic 'em.

-Nine orn later-

"Yah know if you need room for the Wreckers I can bunk with you." Jazz grinned shamelessly at Prowl. "Springer can have my quarters; he knows not to play with anything in my space."

"Jazz, it would be an unprofessional and inappropriate action for us to share quarters." Prowl sighed as he looked over the space requirements. "The speculation and gossip involved would impact morale."

Frag Xantium for breaking down and stranding the Wreckers in Iacon. If it weren't for their public grumbling Jazz would have assumed they did it just to spite Prowl and make more work for him. "I think the gossip chain would relish the idea of you getting some action." Jazz stepped around and traced a servo lightly along Prowl's sensory panel. "It might fix some of the tension you've got going on. Although it wouldn't be conducive to my recharge time, that's for sure." A wince crossed Prowl's brow and he shifted slightly away from Jazz. After a long moment of silence, Jazz continued, "If you're still not interested in sharing I can bunk with Blaster, he won't mind."

Prowl momentarily clenched his servos as his systems began running hotter. "It is unnecessary for officers to share bunks. I will find suitable accommodations for them. The situation shouldn't continue long enough to cause a morale issue for the troops."

"It's no problem, Prowler. I know it will take some of the stress off you to have a spare room available." Jazz smiled, slightly distracted by the faint trembling beneath his servos.

"It's not necessary, Jazz." Prowl snapped, standing quickly while whipping his panels out of Jazz's reach.

"Sorry, love. Just trying to help." Jazz raised both arms and backed out of the office away from the frazzled Praxian.

After the door closed, Prowl huddled in his chair for almost a jour before continuing his work.

-Five orn later-

"Prowl." Prowl looked up at Jazz standing across from his desk.

"Yes, Jazz?" He put down and disconnected the datapad from his wrist. Jazz had expressed irritation in the past if Prowl kept reading while he was talking.

"Blaster's Head of Communications, correct?" Jazz leaned forward, visor darkened in frustration.

"That is the position Prime has granted him." Prowl forced a grimace from crossing his face.

"Why are you constantly putting Hubcap and Cosmos on overlapping shifts in the Comm Room with him?" Jazz crossed both arms and started tapping his foot.

"The Decepticons have been unusually active recently, and our bases require support. Are you questioning my staffing levels, Lieutenant Commander?" Prowl started back at Jazz, wings rising visibly.

"No, sir. I'm just trying to understand why he's not allowed to set his own staffing levels yet like every other department head." Jazz stepped back slightly, startled by Prowl's level of anger.

"I am in charge of staffing, Jazz, and I will determine when that is called for. Good orn." Prowl stared pointedly at the door.

Stung, Jazz turned and stomped out.

-Two orn later-

Do Hubcap and Cosmos have any issues with their assignments? I know I have increased their time in the Comm Center by twenty-seven percent.

They're fine with it, Prowl. Don't stress your processor. They'll find Soundwave's tricks.

-Six orn later-

"We need to finish this inspection, Jazz." Prowl standing with a familiar datapad linked to his wrist.

"The Medbay will be here in the morning. Ratchet's not going to let it run away. Rewind got a vid want to watch with you. They're all going to watch it tonight."

"Our schedules do not have the allocated time for a movie this orn. Our duties to the Autobots must come first." After Jazz's frustrated growl, Prowl relented slightly. "Perhaps you can view it tomorrow when after your shift."

"Fine. Why should I expect anything else." Jazz almost failed to notice Prowl's dipped wings, but First Aid's worried expression caught his optic and drew his attention. Still mad at being denied time with his partner again, he didn't ask about it. This time.

-Eight jour later-

Jazz's condition is still within acceptable parameters?

Nothing's wrong, all reading are normal. Prowl…Blaster and Jazz have known each other for a very long time. He won't do anything like. You don't need to worry about Jazz.

Understood, Ratchet.

-Two orn later-

This is ridiculous. Jazz watched in disbelief as Prowl turned and almost fled from their table, leaving him sitting there with two half-full cubes of highgrade. Grumbling he drained both cubes. Forgot a meeting with Prime my aft. Somehow he wasn't surprised to see Steeljaw's sad optics peering out from beneath a table on the other side of the room.

-One orn later-

"I don't know what's going on. He doesn't seem want to spend time with me anymore." Taking a drink, he grumbled, "And he nearly bit my servos off when I tried to touch him. Maybe he's tired of me."

"Did it start when we got here?" Jazz nodded to the taller of his table companions. "It's not you, Jazz. It's us."

Jazz stared at his long-time friend in disbelief. "Whatcha mean, mech?"

"We always had problems with him, even on different bases. Not that he was anything but professional, but he doesn't seem to like us." Blaster sighed, gesturing towards their table companions.

"We've all noticed even if others won't admit it." Rewind sighed.

Ramhorn grumbled. "He can barely look at us let along be in the same room. Stuck-up, sparkless glitch…"

"Easy, you can't talk about a commander like that." Blaster patted the stubborn symbiont's head. "Seriously, Jazz, I don't know why, but he doesn't trust any of us. He seems to have the most problem with Steeljaw, but he actively avoids all the symbionts."

"I'll find out what's wrong. I've never seen Prowl discriminate against anyone." Jazz shook his head. The pieces weren't quite fitting together. It was definitely past time to get to work puzzling this out.

-Two orn later-

From what Jazz could tell there were only four mechs on base who might know why Prowl was being so hostile towards Blaster. Unfortunately Jazz had struck out so far.

Red Alert refused to discuss the situation; he had implied that he was watching Blaster and his symbionts for any possible problems. Jazz got the strong impression Red expected the problems to come from Blaster not Prowl.

Inferno had expressed sympathy for Blaster's situation and seemed worried that Prowl was this visibly disturbed. He had insisted that Prowl was too professional to allow it to cause real problems in the base. The not so subtle implication that Prowl's problem with Blaster was the same as Cliffjumper's problem with the Twins didn't fly with Jazz. Clearly there was more to it.

Ratchet had cut Jazz off as soon as he mentioned Blaster and Prowl in the same sentence. Curiously, the medic had cited patient confidentiality when pressed. Jazz knew better than to try to break into the medical computer. That would get him in trouble with Prime as well as Red Alert and Ratchet. Not to mention Prowl probably wouldn't forgive him.

Jazz's last hope was Cliffjumper.

-Four jour later-

"Prowl's always stood up for us minibots; I'm not going behind his back." Cliffjumper growled at the Spec Ops mech.

"I'm not trying to go behind his back; I just want to know what's wrong." At Cliffjumper's disbelieving look, Jazz continued. "His problem with Blaster is affecting his work, Cliffjumper. Wreckers, Twins, prank wars, supply shortages, Prime drunk in the brig…nothing affects Prowl's work."

"If it's that bad it involves Prime." Cliffjumper reluctantly pointed out. "Why are you bringing it to me?"

"I don't want to involve Prime if I can help it." Jazz knelt down in front of the minibot. "I know you've known him forever. You confronted me to protect him. 'Jumper, he's been pulling away from me, and I don't know why. He barely even lets me touch him, but he stares like I'm going to be the one to fall apart."

Visibly reluctant, Cliffjumper relented. "All I can tell you is something happened to him just as the war was starting. He got colder after the academy." He turned and walked way leaving the disturbed officer kneeling in the hallway.

Jazz twitched internally; all the pieces had just fallen into place. Blaster, we need to talk.

-Five orn later-

Prowl walked slowly towards Jazz's quarters, grateful that he was willing to spend time together after all the issues that had come up recently. He knew he'd worn himself down ever since that…spark drainer…had arrived at this base. Even though he knew Blaster wouldn't try anything this near to Prime he couldn't make himself be near him or his brood.

Opening the door, he saw the black-and-white form sitting on his birth. Exhausted, he walked over and sat down next to him. "I'm sorry I've been so busy recently. What do you want to do tonight?"

"We need to talk, Prowl." Strangely Jazz wasn't touching him.

"About what, Jazz?" Prowl reached over and hesitantly placed a servo on Jazz's arm.

"Blaster." His flat tone echoed in the silence of the room.

So it had come to this. Jazz was tired of him and his issues and turned to the Host. "Why are you bringing him up now?" Prowl snapped as tension spread through his frame. The thought of Jazz with Blaster disturbed him on a number of levels. "Are you tired of waiting me? I'm sorry I can't just climb into your berth."

Before Jazz could speak the door opened, and a disturbingly familiar red-and-gray form entered the room. Blaster crossed the room and stood on the other side near the door to the wash rack.

"I see you've made your choice, Jazz. I will see you at the next meeting." Prowl couldn't keep his sensory panels from drooping. He got up and started back towards the door, keeping his sensors traced on the Host.

"I'm not choosing Blaster over you, love." Jazz's smooth tones flowed into Prowl's audios. "This has nothing directly to do with us."

The door refused to open. Silently cursing Spec Ops, Prowl pressed his back lightly against the door as he tried to comm Red Alert. Only expected silence met his call. "What do you want from me?"

"You keep pushing everyone away; it took me vorns to get you to open up at all. You flinch whenever I try to touch you intimately. Even though you're good at hiding it, I can tell you're afraid of Blaster. You're skittish around the symbionts even though you know they work for Spec Ops as well as Communications. Finally your entire clan hates Soundwave with a passion I've only seen one other place. Prowl," Jazz said quietly, "I'm sorry I'm doing this to you but I need to know if I can trust you with my agents' safety. As Spec Ops commander, I've just got one question." After a pause, Jazz continued. "Did Soundwave force you to help create Ravage?"

After a long, tension-filled pause, Prowl's shoulders slumped. "How did you figure it out?"

"My clan's been allied with Blaster's clan for a long time. I know a lot more about Hosts than most mechs. I also know that Soundwave was at the Enforcer Academy at the same time you were; it was in your file. Putting that together with your behavior…Ravage is the right age."

"Prowl, he was thrown out of our clan for past cruelties, but we didn't imagine he'd ever do something like that. He would of had to hide with Megatron after…we would have dismantled him if we'd found out what he'd done. To do that to an unwilling mech.…" Blaster trailed off, disgusted by what he'd learned. No wonder Prowl distrusted his kind.

"I was foolish enough to trust him and paid for my inexperience. I learned from my mistake." Prowl turned away, panels drooping.

Jazz got up and walked over to Prowl, reaching out to touch him. Prowl shrank back from his touch, pulling his plating tighter against his frame. He didn't seem able to look Jazz in the visor.

"Prowler, did you think I'd blame you love?" Jazz grabbed Prowl's waist and pulled the now trembling mech into his arms. "Why would you think that would make me not want you?" Jazz gently led him over to the berth, coaxing Prowl to lay down next him on the pad. Tucking his head into Jazz's shoulder, Prowl finally broke down.

Nodding quietly at his friend, Blaster slipped out of the room, leaving the pair curled up on the berth. We'll keep his secret for him.