Hello! This is my first fanfiction - I hope it's alright!

I would love reviews, positive and constructive criticism, but no flames please.

The idea for this fic came about when I noticed during Prime that only a couple of lines were given to Knock Out showing the effect Breakdown's death had caused, while Arcee, by comparison, had a whole episode dealing with her and Cliffjumper, plus several flashbacks when she fought Airachnid. It surprised me, as the wiki and their in-show interaction make out that they were very close.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers Prime or any of its characters. I still love them though! XD

It was so sudden. Knock Out's brain hadn't truly registered it yet – instead he walked about as if in a trance – too overwhelmed to comprehend anything except the sudden, aching emptiness that had engulfed him.

If anyone aboard the Nemesis had bothered to look closer at their sole medic (which they didn't), they would have been surprised by the abrupt change in the usually snippy narcissist. Now, he was withdrawn, unaware of his surroundings, going about his daily business on autopilot, every answer to every question monosyllabic.

Days past in a dull blur, the numbness seeping through his frame into his very spark until all he felt was cold. All he felt was alone. The crushing weight of silence plagued him mercilessly, particularly in their shared quarters – shared ostensibly on the grounds that the medic needed his assistant close by in case an emergency arose; perhaps granted due to neither mech holding too senior a position, or maybe a lack of space, but in reality, they preferred the proximity and the reassurance it offered.

Partnerships amongst the Decepticon ranks were few and far between, and even then, a deep friendship such as theirs (though some speculated that it went deeper than that) had to be contained, as open friendliness and dependency on one another was scorned; deemed to be an Autobot trait. With Soundwave – the eyes and ears of the Decepticons – you never knew when you were being watched, so arousing interest into what went on in their quarters, thus increasing the risk of an intrusion, was not a good idea.

They had managed admirably at playing down their bond, although it was possibly due to the relaxed nature they maintained which came from being together for a long period of time. As such, no 'Con considered the repercussions on Knock Out. Indeed, the vain red medic had only been informed of Breakdown's fate after the whole debacle in the abandoned energon mine was over.

Whilst treating Megatron's injuries, he'd asked (for medical purposes of course), how the great tyrant had been damaged so, and duly told about the confrontation with Airachnid and her insecticon. The former's name had rung a bell within his processor – hadn't Breakdown mentioned something to do with her earlier? Absentmindedly welding a tear in the warlord's armour shut, he accessed the private comm. channel he shared with his assistant. Strangely, there was only static on the other end, but scrolling back through his recent messages, he found what he was looking for.

'Hey KO, just going off on a mission with Dreadwing and Airachnid. Sorry I couldn't come tell you, but Megs wanted Dreadwing and I to move quickly. Prepare for energon stains when I return! BD.'

At the time, Knock Out had thought the choice of wording a little bizarre, but didn't give it too much speculation; after all, the big lug could handle himself fine. Now though, the first trickle of apprehension was starting to stir in his spark. Once he'd finished with Megatron, the sports car had sought out Dreadwing and casually inquired – perhaps a little too forcefully – if he'd seen his partner recently.

The blue seeker's pause was evident as he seemingly measured his next words.

"Have you not been informed?"

"Of what? Hurry up and tell me, it's not like I have a medical bay to run or anything."

"I. . . regrettably have to inform you that Breakdown is no longer with us."

That stopped Knock Out in his tracks. "What do you mean? I don't understand." Oh, but he did, and as much as hated himself for asking, the medic wanted – needed – the simple fact to be spelled out to him, crystal clear.

"Breakdown's spark has been extinguished. I am sorry."

Only there was no condolence for him personally, the words were a simple statement any warrior would say when it came to the extermination of one of their own. But for the red mech, it was like the dark star saber itself had been plunged into his spark. Almost automatically, without any conscious input, words spilled out while his processor tried (and failed) to grasp the enormity of what losing the ex-wrecker meant. "How? How is it possib- I mean, how did this happen?"

"Breakdown and I were on an assignment from Lord Megatron to snuff out the spark of Airachnid. Unfortunately, I was detained; yet he continued the pursuit despite my objections. From my position I heard his scream, and then nothing; however I was unable to recover the body. It was nowhere to be found."

Knock Out remembered himself dimly nodding along, putting on a nonchalant façade, then escaping to the silence of their – no, now just his – quarters. Once there, he'd sat on the edge of his berth and trembled, too much in a state of shock to even attempt to gather himself together. He couldn't make any sense of the situation, couldn't grasp that the lack of his partner's frame meant he'd never see the ex-wrecker again. Simply put, the sports car couldn't believe his partner was gone, and so suddenly, without any parting words. To be honest, despite the war that raged around them and both mechs knowing they could be terminated at any moment, neither thought it would happen. Somewhere deep within his processor, the medic had always figured that it would be he who went first, due to being smaller, less sturdy, and lacking any long-range weaponry like blasters.

It was the original reason for their partnership. On the battlefield, Knock Out required back-up almost always if it was a fight-not-flight situation, and he preferred having the same mech each time, because it allowed him to feel comfortable that said reinforcement would have his back. This was then conveniently extended to the med-bay, on the grounds that he needed an assistant.

Now though, now he was hollow, without his constant companion ready to lend a servo with buffing his finish, even if it was already shining, or comfort him if he had a nightmare during recharge, or simply be a protective presence which would help bolster his confidence.

In an environment surrounded by mechs much larger than himself (often two to three times his size), as was typical for Decepticons, Knock Out knew if one of them decided to mess with him then there really wasn't anything he could do about it – the 'Cons didn't care if abuse was going on amongst their own, for it was a very cut-throat situation.

At least on Earth, the Nemesis didn't contain the entire faction, merely troopers with a few core officers (like himself). The secluded setting provided opportunities to go down to the surface and get away from it all for a bit, and also made him less of a target, seeing as he was the ship's only medic and could be extremely snippy at times. He supposed he was lucky in that regard. Back on Cybertron though, when the brunt of Decepticon forces were amassed in one place or another, it wasn't as organised, a melee of energon-soaked and unsavoury mechs. Lacking his personal bodyguard would have turned him into easy pickings, never mind his position as a medic. Being a sports car, he was small, delicately built (for speed) and physically unable to withstand the punishment a larger, stockier mech could.

But Breakdown had always stood by him, understood him, silently supportive, and despite his brutish personality was gentle when it came to dealing with his highly strung, often skittish partner.

Now though, he had no-one to turn to, to moan and air his grievances at.

Now though, he was alone.

A few Earth days after the incident, Lord Megatron called Knock Out to the bridge. Still profoundly affected by the ex-wrecker's demise and, for the most part, out of touch with what was going on around him, the red medic hadn't the faintest clue why he'd been summoned, but managed to gather his wits about him. It was always better to be prepared when facing the warlord.

"You sent for me, my Liege?"

"Ah, Knock Out, how nice of you to grace us with your presence. I trust that Breakdown's termination hasn't affected your work? You don't miss him?"

"Of course not, Lord Megatron. The big lug was only my assistant, however helpful he proved to be." How it caused his spark to contract painfully when he downplayed the actuality, but it was the proper response. Decepticons didn't feel.

"I'm glad to hear it. But I was wondering if the loss of said assistant will hamper the Decepticon cause in any way on your part?" Megatron was no fool, he knew of the limitations losing Breakdown had on Knock Out's usefulness, particularly in the field, but didn't know the full depth of their relationship, so was pushing the matter further than needed to assess the situation.

"Absolutely not. I've managed before by myself, I can do so again."

"Fine. If you need assistance in the med-bay then use one of the troopers. However, when going on missions, due to your new vulnerability, I want you to take back-up if there's any chance of encountering the Autobots."

"As you wish, my Liege."

"Very well. You are dismissed."

Back in his quarters, Knock Out's processor finally caught up with him. The tyrant's discussion had really brought home that Breakdown was gone, was never coming back. And he was the only one who cared. For the rest of the Decepticon force, it was simply another day, and for the warlord, a casual nuisance.

Vulnerability.

Because the medic was the weaker mech, and that was the truth. Which is why he should have been the first of the pair to join the Well of Allsparks, in this time of war. But Primus had dealt fate differently.

So it was Knock Out, vain, narcissistic Knock Out, who needed his partner more than his partner had needed him, who remained behind to grieve in their quarters.

Alone.

Just to clarify, the use of the word abuse is open to interpretation, purposefully, as though I wrote it without sexual intent, everyone is allowed to have their own viewpoints. It came about from Knock Out saying: "Well, I never had the best role models," at the end of Predacons Rising.

TheInkEngraver