Chapter Text
The cycle had been blessedly quiet; no Autobots, no desperate energon scavenging, no war-changing powerful artefact to fight for. Just a blissful calm that perpetuated the ship.
A rare moment that Knockout should be cherishing, however, with nothing else to do, he had no excuse to save him from the processor dulling task of file sorting. A task that, Knockout would call obsolete due to the constantly changing roster of patients, was demanded of him, nevertheless.
Thus, he's now hunched over his desk staring holes into a data pad trying to recall who QX-8796 was and what injury they might have suffered- if any at all.
Thankfully, he was saved from that dreadful work rather quickly when a familiar pair of dusty blue arms wrapped around his waist and pulled gently, 'Come on Doc, you know it's not good for your spinal strut to sit like that.'
He happily dropped the data pad and leaned his head back against the other bot's chassis, 'I know darling, but you know I can't stand this work' Knockout hummed, turning his helm to face his other half.
Breakdown picked up the abandoned data pad, easily reading through the information it offered. Much to Knockout's annoyance, he wanted Breakdown's attention on him and him alone. After only a few kliks of scheming, he raised his servo to cup the side of Breakdown's faceplates ,pulling him closer and began littering kisses along his jaw.
Sadly, much to Knockout's exasperation, the other bot still didn't pay attention to him, although he could see his partner holding back a smile, it wasn't enough for him.
Derma wandered lower, towards the cables that made up Breakdown's throat. Revelling the way Breakdown's vents hitched and optics flickered towards him, he chuckled before asking 'What are you doing Knocks?'
'Ah nothing, just something from human films' Preening as he won over Breakdown's attention, snatching that accursed data-pad from the other's servo and throwing it a small distance away to make sure it wouldn't happen again.
Anyway, it wasn't a lie, if his memory serves him right, in every film he's seen they're always partaking in activity. Unusually before another…unsavoury act.
At first the sight disgusted him, and, well admittedly it still does. However, it did spark some curiosity over why the fleshies seemed to enjoy it so much and why they can't refrain from doing it, he was a researcher at "heart" after all.
'Well, if you're gonna play like that-' That accursed data-pad was dropped, again, the other servo bracing his chassis, Knockout was confident the other bot could feel the way his spark was racing.
Excitement buzzed his chassis as he felt warm breaths against his own cables and wires, his optics shut in anticipation and he leaned his helm further back to give better access.
For a moment he understood those organics in the films, how everything else seemed to fade into the background with nothing but Breakdown and himself there.
However, after a few kliks, nothing happened. When more passed, the warmth from the room, -from his partner- was gone and replaced with a bitter and lonely cold.
'Breakdown?' His vocaliser clicked as if he hadn't just spoken moments before, his excitement died quick and was swiftly replaced with confusion and concern.
That was till he opened his optics, greeted by the familiar ceiling of his habsuite, and an empty berth across his own, a berth that's been empty for cycles since Breakdown betrayed the cons.
The realisation hit him, and all he could do in response is groan as he turns over to be spared the sight, fans clicked on as embarrassment hit him. Of course that was just a dream, Breakdown was never interested in him that way.
They were friends before and even less now. Frag, Knockout knew Breakdown was interested in Femmes, Arachnid caught his optics the day she came on ship. His partner had told him as much, on numerous occasions mind you, meanwhile he's been at Breakdown's side for millennia.
His spark ached at thought, remembering how long he's been waiting for just something from the other bot, something other the same light sparked smile he offers everyone. Just something to show he meant something to the other bot.
For a moment, all Knockout could do was sit with the pads of his servos pushed against his optics, as if trying to push away memories of his dear and of that damning dream.
Knockout groaned as he came to a conclusion; he needed something to do, checking his chronometer read it was only 2:48 am, far too early for him start shift but he couldn't go back into recharge if he's just going to suffer through more love sick delusions his processor was conjuring up.
Finally opening his optics again, pointedly keeping his gaze away from the other berth, Knockout couldn't help noticing how drab his paint was already. Breakdown It was only touched up a week ago.
Even in the little light the Nemesis offered, Knockout could see how dull his paint was getting. It made him grimace, he can't let himself go just because he was missing his partner.
His paint was back in -almost- pristine condition, he couldn't quite reach some areas on his pauldrons and back. It's not like he could go to Starscream , or any other Mech left in this blasted ship, for help with it. Not that he'd ever let them near it.
So now he had to walk, through the Nemesis with patches of dull paint. It would have been embarrassing if the halls were more full, however it was still early and so the only other bots awake were the patrolling Vehicons. And, as he mentioned before, the Nemesis was kept purposefully dark, the shadows melded with the already dark interior so should any bot not accustomed to this breach the ship, would quickly become disoriented.
The unfortunate Bot would likely run into one of the, previously said, patrolling Vehicons and be captured or Soundwave himself would deal with them.
For Knockout, on the other servo, it was a brilliant camouflage to hid the state his paint.
[Soundwave: Knockout= Awake Early?]
The comm was toneless and sudden -and it did not make Knockout jump-
[Knockout: Yes, well, I need to stay on Lord Megatron's good side, somehow]
The hallways felt so empty, with the only sound being his own pede-steps reverberating through.
[Knockout: Quiet night?]
[Soundwave: Affirmative]
Comms went quiet after that, everyone on ship knew Sounders wasn't a talker but you can't blame Knockout for trying.
Evidently, his partner's betrayal was taking its toll and his spark was foolish enough to cling to-
A sharp ache bloomed in his chassis, it sent him stumbling into the wall. One servo pawed at his chassis, internal warning blared and medical coding kicking in trying to locate the "injury". His other servo grasped onto the wall, now the only thing protecting his led shed of pride, and his finish.
Although, that didn't matter to- the thought didn't even register as he read through the diagnostic reading:
•Spark Rate= High
Expected, Knockout didn't need the report to tell him that considering he could feel it under his servo.
•Fuel Pressure= High
Again, expected, he's basically been thrown into -what the fleshies call- "fight or flight".
•Energon Levels= Satisfactory
Lower than it should be, however that's simply because he hasn't refuelled yet, and he may not have a chance of this continues.
Another, somehow sharper, pain rippled through his energon lines. This time draining the strength from his joints, leaving him fighting to just stay upright as his limbs shook.
The Nemesis was not the place to breakdown!
The diagnostic readings were replaced by newer warnings, that he couldn't bring himself to focus on them with the pain flooding his senses.
At the very least, Knockout could now pinpoint where the pain was coming from ; his spark itself, which is the worst possible area to be in sudden pain for no reason!
He was distantly aware that he was gripping some part of his chassis plating, possibly leaving a dent or stratch that he'll hate later on. If there is a later on, that is.
If this is a medical emergency, which it probably is, then he's dead. The only other bot that has some sort of medical training is Soundwave, and even then it's the basic necessities to keep somebot alive.
Knockout heavily doubted he'd know how to fix this- Even he's at a loss.
Static was building up at the edge of his vision, and what was left was stolen by warnings. He would have preferred what humans always talk about, the "life flashing before your eyes" scenario.
But no, Primus wasn't benevolent enough to grant that, instead Knockout was acutely aware of his current predicament.
Before the pain forced him into stasis lock, one last question played on his processor, 'Would any bot care to miss him?'
Knockout woke under the surgical light in the med-bay, his processor lagged as he tried recalling what happened but nothing but an error signal replied.
He struggled for a moment to push himself up on the… surgical berth?
Before he could really question his predicament, Soundwave was at his side, offering him a cube of energon whilst flashing that smiley face he's come to enjoy.
'Uh…Thank you, Soundwave,' He took the cube, the colour looked right at least, 'How long were you there?'
'Soundwave: Here the whole time.' The text flashed on his visor.
'Ah…' Knockout finally took a sip, it tastes right as well, 'You wouldn't happen to know what happened would you?'
'Knockout: Collapsed en route to Med-Bay.'
Optical ridges furrowed, he tried to access his memory banks again to no luck. 'That's it?'
Soundwave gave a nod, then he seemed to give Knockout a last look over before leaving.
His chronometer read it was about 5:19 now, meaning the first squads for today should be going out in two hours. Meaning, if he was lucky, he only had an hour to get the med-bay ready.
Knockout hopped off the berth, mentally cursing Soundwave for not grabbing his stool before he left. As much as he would love to investigate his own issues, he didn't have time.
At the very least, he was staying upright with no issue, only a small ache in his chassis that he could run tests for later.