[A/N]: I know this theme is been abused lately, but I had this idea stuck in mind and I needed to write it to get it out. I wanted to write my little tribute to Breakdown too.
Apologies: My first language is Spanish, not English. If you find grammar mistakes, please be gentle. Just tell me and I will fix them ASAP.
Warnings: Set after Crossfire (Season 2, Episode 7), so, it contains spoilers.
Disclaimer: Transformers characters are © to Hasbro. The story is mine.
Megatron was a ruthless mech. He was the Leader of the Decepticons, after all. Ruthless, cruel, cold, impassive... but he was also very observant.
Knock Out had made a great effort in keeping a straight face during the debriefing were he had been informed about Breakdown's demise. But the clenching of his servos, the stiffness of his stance and the dimming of his optics had not gone unnoticed.
When he had been dismissed, the red medic had bowed respectfully and had walked out of the main bridge, without speaking a word.
Only when Knock Out had reached the privacy of the medical bay, and locked the door behind him, had he permitted himself a little moment of weakness.
His processors finally caught up with the information received, and he leaned his weight against the closed door, sliding slowly until he was sitting on the floor. The straight face he had fought so hard to keep vanished, and was replaced by pure grief and sorrow. He remained there for several hours, without making a sound.
And Megatron knew this, because nothing happened aboard his ship without his knowledge, and there were cameras in every corner of the Nemesis.
"See that Knock Out doesn't attempt anything stupid on his own." He ordered Soundwave, who nodded briefly, silent as always.
Megatron could be powerful and ruthless, but he wasn't stupid. And he knew that he couldn't afford to loose his only physician in a foolish fit of rage. Knock Out could be unpredictable at times, and it was plausible for the red medic to go on his own and try to get revenge on the traitorous femme.
The Decepticon cause had already lost Skyquake, Starscream, Airachnid, and Breakdown. And Megatron didn't want to continue loosing soldiers.
But that feared reaction never came.
The red medic had been fulfilling his duties in schedule. The medical check-ups went smoothly, and the rest of the time he was secluded in his small lab, working on his synthetic energon research.
But Megatron couldn't be easily fooled.
From his command post, he had been closely monitoring the physician during the last week. Knock Out used to be a cocky arrogant mech with a permanent smug smirk on his face-plates. He pranced around the Nemesis when he was out of duty, mingling with the vehicons and sharing funny stories with them. And he had a habit of slipping away through the Ground Bridge when he wanted to relieve some steam, racing with the human pests. Of course, Megatron was also aware of that, but he didn't pay much attention. It didn't hurt anyone, and his physician always came back in top condition, to continue with his duties.
But since last week, the red medic had been behaving very different. He was still fulfilling his duties, but he barely left his med bay. He was somber and gloomy. And he hadn't even tried to go out for one of his races. Something was very wrong with him.
"For how long were Knock Out and Breakdown in the same team?" Megatron asked absently, slightly turning from the monitors to look at Soundwave.
The silent Third in Command accessed the data logs of the Nemesis, and brought up a data-file summarizing the latest destinations of both mechs.
The Decepticon warlord studied the file for a while.
"That was a long time." He mused aloud.
Megatron was ruthless, but he knew that in order to obtain greater benefits, sometimes it helped to be a little lenient.
Knock Out was cleaning and organizing his medical tools when the doors of the med bay flushed open.
"Get on the berth and tell me what hurts." He instructed absently, his back still turned, assuming that his visitor was an injured vehicon, like it was the 95% of the times.
"Knock Out." The stern voice of the Decepticon Leader spoke.
"Lord Megatron!" The red medic exclaimed, dropping whatever tool he was holding, immediately turning to face his visitor. "I apologize, I wasn't expecting you." He added, trying to regain his composure.
The Decepticon Leader shot him a warning glare, and moved into the med bay, the door closing behind him with a soft hiss of hydraulics.
Folding his arms behind his back, he moved closer, inspecting the impeccable state of Knock Out's work space.
The red medic was starting to get a little unsettled by his Leader's sudden visit and contemplative silence. He opened his mouth to ask something, but he was interrupted.
"The Decepticon army is not a proper place for sentimentality and useless mourning." Megatron spoke, his voice stern. "Those are Autobot qualities." He hissed with disdain, and turned to look at Knock Out, pinning him with his glare.
The physician held his Leader's gaze as best as he could before answering.
"I have not neglected my duties." He said.
"I know." Megatron conceded with a small nod. "And for that, I am grateful." He turned again to idly inspect another shelf full of medical tools. "Perhaps you are even working too much."
Knock Out visibly flinched and looked away.
"Keeping my mind busy helps... to not think too much... about it."
"Perhaps avoiding it is the real problem." The Decepticon Leader dedicated the physician a sideways glance and headed for the door. "Take a day off-work. Get out of here. Go racing. Vent some steam and think things through." He said, his gaze fixated on the door in front of him. "Come back when you have cleared your mind. That's an order." He added, looking back at him briefly before exiting the med bay.
Knock Out stared with a blank expression as his Leader left his domain.
Venting a sigh, he dropped onto the nearest chair.
"Perhaps you are right..." He whispered to himself.
It was still early in the afternoon, but the sky was getting prematurely dark. There was a storm coming closer.
A red sports car shot past an abandoned road in the middle of nowhere. The pavement was in bad shape due to the lack of maintenance, and gravel was sent flying by the tires, scuffing the red finish.
But Knock Out didn't mind it at that moment.
He snarled to himself and pushed his engine further, the speedometer reaching dangerous numbers for that kind of road. He was determined to leave behind the sorrow pooling in his spark, to outrun the grief, to beat the pain.
Or burn his engine in the process.
"Stupid big blue lug." He hissed, revving his engines in despair. The dark clouds high above in the sky seemed to reply to him with a rumbling thunder, the first water drops hitting his chassis.
Of course they were at war. Of course people died.
But Breakdown dying at the hands of one of their own faction, in what should have been an easy mission... that was proving to be difficult to assimilate.
Knock Out and Breakdown had been together since they left Cybertron. They were the perfect team. The red medic was agile and swift. His assistant was strong and deadly. The blue mech was always there for him to watch his back, and Knock Out was always the one to ponder if a fight was worth fighting or when it was time for a safe retreat.
"I should have been there." He growled to himself. The rain was pouring harder, and water splashed at both sides of the sports car as he shot past the old road.
Small glimpses of memories about his assistant flashed across the red medic's processors, which did little to ease his pain.
Breakdown passing him medical tools during the routine maintenance of the troops. Accidentally hitting him during a skirmish with the Autobots. Helping him buffing his scuffs later...
No more help buffing his finish.
Breakdown sharing an energon cube with him after their shift. Dedicating him that clumsy smile of his. Making silly puns...
No more silly puns.
Breakdown crumbling on his berth after a hard day of work. Snuggling closer to him. Mumbling sweet things already half in recharge. Putting a strong arm around him and pulling him closer...
No more...
The road made a sharp turn to the left and the red sports car swerved and skidded on the gravel. Knock Out tried to regain the control, but he was going to fast for that, and the pavement was wet because of the rain, making it even more difficult. He transformed and jumped to avoid colliding with a boulder, rolled on the ground and finally came to a stop at the edge of a small slope on the terrain.
He remained dazzled on the ground for several minutes, doing a quick systems check and recalibrating his gyros. Everything was still miraculously in place.
"Stupid road." He hissed to himself, trying to get up with difficulty. He was fine but everything was a little blurry from the impact, and pushing his engine so hard had left him exhausted. "Stupid rain..." He whispered, finally coming to stand upright and looking up into the stormy sky.
He shuttered his optics, letting the water pour down his frame, wishing that it could wash away the pain that refused to leave his spark. The soft pattering sound of the water drops over is metal armor was somewhat soothing, but it wasn't enough. Thunders rumbled closer, the spicy taste of ozone tingling his olfactory sensors.
He didn't know for how long he remained like that, but suddenly, the whine of loading weapon capacitors made him snap out of his thoughts.
"Bad day to let your guard down." A gruff voice mocked from behind him.
Knock Out vented a sigh and slowly opened his optics.
"Get lost, Bulkhead. It's my day off. I'm not in the mood to fight you right now." Knock Out warned without even turning to look at his opponent, forcing his voice to sound with the confidence he didn't have at that moment.
"Yeah. And I wasn't even supposed to be patrolling this area." The big green mech snorted. "But hey, is not every day that you come across a lonely 'Con enjoying the rain. And I am not going to waste the opportunity to neutralize a potential threat."
The red mech growled, trying to summon the will to fight that was evading him.
"I suppose there's nothing I can say to make you change your mind." He gave a tired, humorless laugh and finally turned to look at Bulkhead, sub-spacing his rod without powering it. Only a fool would light up an electric rod under that heavy rain. He crouched, poised for the attack.
"Fat chance, Decepticon." The huge green mech stood his ground and fired an energy blast to the red medic.
Knock Out rolled out of the way, evading the enemy fire and pounced over Bulkhead.
"You never back off, do you?" He shouted, dodging a second shot and stabbing the sharp end of his rod under Bulkhead's blaster, where he knew the weapon capacitor was located.
The Autobot gave a pained cry and transformed his arm back to a servo, and the other one into a wrecking ball, successfully hitting the smaller Decepticon and sending him to the muddy ground, his rod falling a couple of meters beside him. Bulkhead kicked the weapon away from his enemy, and lounged for him.
Knock Out scrambled to his feet just in time to avoid been stepped on and counter-attacked with a quick series of hits that did little to the heavy armored Autobot.
They continued exchanging blows for a long time, and each attack that the red medic dodged weighted heavy on his spark. It reminded him of all the times that he had sparred with Breakdown. Learning how to defend himself from bigger mechs, learning his weak spots and vulnerabilities. And for a second, he almost could imagine himself still practicing with his blue assistant.
But he knew there would be no more sparring with him.
Noticing the increasing hesitation in his enemy's movements, Bulkhead lounged forward and grabbed Knock Out by his throat, rising him above the ground and slamming him against the mountainside, knocking the air out of his vents. With his free arm, he pinned the medic's right arm, where he knew he could summon his rotating saw, leaving him immobilized.
Knock Out let out an strangled gasp and struggled weakly against the huge arm, fruitlessly trying to break free. The memories of the sparring sessions with Breakdown flashed again in his processors. The blue mech always managed to pin him with that same movement. When the training session reached that point, it was over. Knock Out would have gone limp, signaling his rendition, and Breakdown would have apologized for the new scuffs inflicted on his partner. And later, he would have helped the physician buffing them out.
But the huge mech glaring sternly at him now wasn't Breakdown.
Knock Out sighed and ceased his struggle, shuttering his optics. And just for a moment, he imagined that it was his partner instead of Bulkhead holding him. His only free servo slided slowly down the huge green arm, finally hanging limply to his side. The only audible sounds were the rain-drops hitting metal and engines working hard to keep up with the ferocity of the battle.
At any moment, Breakdown will start apologizing for his harshness in the sparring.
"Giving up so soon?" Bulkhead growled, shattering the illusion and bringing Knock Out back to the present.
"...You are going to help me buff all this scuffs and scraps, you clumsy fool..." The red medic murmured for himself, optics still closed, refusing to acknowledge reality.
"What?"
"...Doesn't... matter..." The red mech breathed.
"And where's Breakdown? I know he's never too far from you."
Knock Out's optics finally snapped open again, brightening with rage.
"He's not coming! He is not ever coming back! Don't you ever dare to say his name again!" He shouted, clawing at the servo holding him. "Don't you... dare..." He trailed off, sinking his claws in a seam, but doing little damage to the circuitry below. "I... can't... stand it..." He looked back at his aggressor.
And Bulkhead flinched back when he locked his gaze into Knock Out's. He recognized that look. It was the same look that Arcee had sometimes. The one that could not be feigned. Raw grief and sorrow irradiated from the Decepticon medic.
The green mech released his grip, and Knock Out dropped onto the ground, falling on his knee-joints with a small whine.
"I could have accepted him been killed by Optimus, even by you! We are at war, for Primus' sake! People die everyday!" He let out a pained cry. "But not by that sadistic spider!" He slammed a fist on the muddy ground. "I just... can't..." He hit the ground again. "We couldn't even retrieve any part of him..."
Bulkhead stared, lost for words, at the Decepticon, recalling all the times he had fought with the blue mech. The rain was the only sound filling the silence for a long time.
"He was a worthy opponent." He finally said, crouching in front of him and placing a servo on his shoulder. "And an honorable warrior."
"Sorry... I needed to unburden myself to someone... And I couldn't do it at the Nemesis." He sighed, his gaze fixated on the ground. "You must think I'm pathetic, but I really don't care right now..."
"No." Bulkhead replied seriously, his voice softer than usual. He still couldn't believe what he was doing, but he just couldn't fight any longer with the Decepticon after seen that spark-breaking look on his optics.
"You know..." Knock Out replied after a while. "He told me what happened that time with the M.E.C.H. What really happened." He gave a humorless laugh. "I suppose I must be thankful to you at least for that."
"I only wanted to fight the rematch..." Bulkhead looked away. "You don't need to thank me."
Knock Out sighed heavily, his gaze fixated on the water poodles in the ground. The rain was stopping.
"Get up." Bulkhead barked, making Knock Out focus again on his opponent. Glancing up, he saw the green mech extending him a servo. "Come on."
He tentatively reached out a servo, still disbelieving the situation. Bulkhead grabbed him and pulled him to his feet a little roughly.
"Look at yourself. You are a wreck. What would have he thought about your finish?" The Autobot said sternly.
The red mech looked at himself, still a little shocked. He was all covered in mud, dents and scuffs.
"He would have been terribly upset..." He sighed, managing to summon a small sad smile.
"That's what I thought." The huge green mech agreed, turning slowly to leave.
Knock Out stared, dumbfounded.
"Aren't you going to... take me with you?"
"It was your day off. And I wasn't even supposed to be patrolling this area." Bulkhead smirked over his shoulder, dedicating his enemy one last glance. "There would be more occasions."
The red medic watched his opponent transform and go away by the old road.
The ground was still wet, but the clouds were starting to clear, revealing the starry night behind them.
"It seems... that it has stopped raining..." He whispered for himself.
[A/N]: I cried like a stupid writing this. Breakdown, I will miss you, babe.
