Note: Good, you're here! Sit. Stay. (please? haha) This story can actually take place in either G1 or Movie-verse. So, whichever one you prefer, think of it that way. In terms of time, it takes place during the transition from Golden Age to Great War. (you see my reasoning? so yeah, either 'verse) Thanks for reading, in advance!

Big thanks to beta readers Tinna Minor and Puffi The Insane.



Double Vision

The Golden Age of Cybertron had some rusty spots. It was in those spots that Cybertron's undoing was conceived. Some ignored it, some tried to fix it, and some were consumed by it. As a roaming doctor, living cycle-to-cycle, Spotlight was forced to deal with all of them. He didn't like to stay in one place too long. Despite his profession, he disliked interacting with other bots. Especially the happy ones. He was a complicated bot who liked to repair things, not talk to them. That was the only part of his job he didn't like. He could deal with being elbow-deep in a wound gushing energon onto his faceplate; he couldn't deal with convivial motormouths. If he didn't relocate after a while, he was sure to develop a glitch

Currently, Spotlight found himself employed as Chief Medical Officer at a stadium in Kaon. It was known as the Scrap Bowl, and primarily hosted gladiator fights. There was constantly some sort of police presence at the Bowl, to ensure 'civilian safety', but Spotlight knew that they were just there to catch a fight. The doctor could tell at first glance that the local police force was full of mechs with energon boiling in their lines; itching for a chance to use their titanium knuckles legally.

Spotlight's current patient was a young gladiator that had just suffered his fifth loss in a row. Said patient was extremely depressed, to say the least.

"Who was it this time?" Spotlight asked, removing a piece of dented silver plating on the gladiator's chest.

"Sideways." the gladiator replied. "And that cheater used a shrapnel sword."

"Sideways." Spotlight spat. "This is great. Just what I need..."

"What's a shrapnel sword?" Torx, Spotlight's young medical assistant asked with a raised optic ridge. Torx was naturally curious and slightly vain. Surprisingly, though, Spotlight actually got along with him.

"This new weapon that has the same effects as a shrapnel bomb. Well, basically." Spotlight explained. "Find the tweezers, will ya?"

Torx went off to find said item, while the injured gladiator let out a pained moan. "Everyone keeps kicking my tailpipe, Doc. What's wrong with me?"

"I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist."

"Aren't doctors supposed to have a good bedside manner?"

"Excuse me." Spotlight cleared his vocal unit, and then spoke in an uncharacteristically sweet tone. "Would you like an energon goodie, Mr. Gladiator, sir?"

From across the bay, Torx burst into laughter.

"Yo Spotlight!" he called. "That's a nice look for you."

"What look?"

"Oh, the 'Tender Nursebot' look, of course."

Spotlight chucked a pair of pliers in Torx's general direction. For the first time in a long time, the fallen gladiator on the table smiled, albeit slightly.

The moment was interrupted when the med bay's monitor sprung to life. The bust of the owner of the Scrap Bowl appeared.

"Spotlight, please come to my office." he requested.

"Yes sir. On my way." Spotlight replied. The owner nodded, and the monitor returned to its blank stand-by mode.

Torx returned to the table with the tweezers in hand. Spotlight motioned towards the damaged area on the gladiator. "Tweeze out these bits of shrapnel, Torx. I'll be back in a click."

"'Kay, Doc." Torx nodded, turning to the patient. "Make sure you hold still, or I might slice something."

"That's comforting."

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

The owner's office had a perfect view of the arena. The owner himself very rarely watched the fights, but if he did, he'd have picture perfect seating.

"Prepped for the tournament?" he asked, standing next to his desk. It was recently polished.

"Yes sir. The medical bay is fully stocked and ready." Spotlight replied.

"Good. Your assistants should be here shortly."

"Yes sir."

"I must say, Spotlight, you've certainly earned your place here. My fighters don't loathe checkups for once. Even those freeloading cops like you." he smirked. "And yet...you don't want to renew your contract with us? Might I ask why my best CMO yet is choosing this path?"

"I'm moving to Iacon. I want to see what the new hospital there has to offer in terms of training." Spotlight answered. "My welding is a bit off."

The doctor knew his boss could tell he was lying. His welding was perfect; that's one of the reasons why he was CMO. Well, that, and because the last CMO was beheaded by a gladiator he rubbed the wrong way.

"Very well. You're free to go."

"Thank you, sir."

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

Spotlight and Torx stood outside the Scrap Bowl, watching the transports of visiting gladiators arrive, alongside the owner and other staff. Mechs of all sizes and levels of tenacity exited their transports, and entered the stadium that could very well become their last resting place.

One even blew Torx a kiss.

"Did...did that just happen?" the young medic bewilderedly asked. Spotlight shook his head in amusement, ignoring the strange gladiator and turning his attention to a different transport. A large gray mech just slightly older than the doctor himself was stepping off. He wore a scowl, and was proud to show it to anyone and everyone.

"He looks familiar." Spotlight thought, but quickly shook the notion off.

"Woah." Torx nudged Spotlight's arm with his elbow. "Look at those two."

Spotlight turned his head. A pair of twins stood among a group from a visiting stadium. They were mostly black in color, and had completely identical chassis. The only difference was in the small bits of color they had on their shoulders. One was yellow, the other red.

"Who're they?" Torx wondered aloud.

"Brothers from Titan Stadium." Spotlight replied. "I've patched up one of them before. Wouldn't shut up about how the type of solvent I was using was low grade."

"They look mean. Wouldn't want to bump into them in a dark tunnel." Torx said, to which Spotlight immediately replied, "Would you want to bump into any of these mechs in a dark tunnel? Come on, bolt head. Our obligation is done; let's get back to the bay. I don't want the 'help' poking around my tools."

Torx was mystified, and Spotlight indifferent, to see that the visiting medics were femmes. When the two returned to the bay, Spotlight almost bumped into Torx's stupefied form. The three visitors were chatting near a storage unit.

"Good evening." Spotlight greeted, after stomping on Torx's foot as a scolding. The femmes looked at the doctor. "I'm CMO Spotlight, and this is Medic Torx."

The femmes introduced themselves cheerfully. Lithium, Nightshade, and Sigma were all from Praxus. One could tell from the trio's distinctive doorwings. Lithium and Nightshade were silver and blue, while Sigma was mostly black and blue. Spotlight left the small talk to Torx, moving instead to watch the activity on the monitors. Not surprisingly, the stadium was packed. It was going to be a long night.

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

"So, you three are from Praxus, huh?"

"Yes. We work at the little clinic there." Lithium replied. "We don't get too much business, so our boss sent us here. I think he's friends with the owner of this stadium."

"You don't say? I actually met a genealogist in Iacon once that was studying the whole doorwing thing. He's trying to figure out why practically all of the bots sparked in Praxus have 'em."

Nightshade glanced at Sigma. "Maybe we were meant to fly?" the blue femme grinned.

"Ha! Yeah, maybe-!"

"Torx, c'mere." Spotlight interjected.

"Boss, I'm kinda busy here."

"Get over here."

Torx grudgingly walked over to Spotlight. "Yeah?"

"Tell me the Medical Unit's Oath."

"Seriously?" he groaned, to which Spotlight replied with a nod. Torx glanced back at the femmes, who were giggling quietly. "Ugh. 'I am a Medical Unit. I will protect and save life whenever possible. I will not use my talent to abuse power. I will prevent as well as cure illness. I will not be ashamed to call on a brother or sister unit for assistance, and will continue to learn from my brothers and sisters for as long as I am online. I am a Medical Unit first, a Cybertronian second; my medical service always comes before any other alliance, position, or personal avocation. As Primus as my witness, I do accept these terms.'"

Spotlight handed Torx a rag and a box of dirty tools. "Your medical service comes before personal avocation, Torx."

"You want me to clean?"

"Cleanliness is part of prevention. You think I'm gonna make these nice fembots do it?"

"Actually, that's usually what we do at the clinic." Sigma quipped. "It's so dead there most of the time."

"No pun intended." Nightshade added.

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

The tournament was halfway into the first fight. Both gladiators proved to be especially good at dodging attacks, so the fight was becoming abnormally long. There was no short of excitement in the crowd, though...or of mischief.

"Ugh, some punk sprayed the camera with paint." Sigma grumbled. "Now how will we know when to go out?"

"Oh, you'll know." Torx said. "The fans really go wild when there's-."

Then, out of the blue, the crowd erupted into fierce cheering so loud it shook the walls.

"Speaking of wild...!" Spotlight started, tossing his wrench aside. "Scratch the cleaning, we've got work to do. One of you femmes come with me."

"I'll go." Lithium grinned, and walked towards the door. "Ooh, this is so exciting!"

When Lithium was at his side, Spotlight punched in the code to open the door leading to the arena. When the door opened, the two medics were met with a grinning pale yellow mech.

"Knock knock." he said, whipping out a blaster and thrusting it in Lithium's face. He pulled the trigger before she had the chance to scream.

The majority of her processor was blown to bits. Nightshade screamed as Lithium's limp, lifeless body toppled over. Energon trickled from a line once connected to her optical center.

"Lithium!" Spotlight gasped in utter shock.

"You want some too, Doc?" the intruder jeered, ramming the butt of his gun into Spotlight's abdomen. Spotlight, the wind knocked out of him, fell to the ground with a thud.

"Ooh, more beautiful ladies..." he continued with a simper, stepping over Lithium's body. Right before his optics offlined, Spotlight saw Torx step back and grab a hammer used for popping out dents in armor. Then everything went dark.

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

The next thing Spotlight saw was the ceiling of his tiny office.

"How in the Pit..." he grumbled, sitting up, "did I get in here?"

"Shh..." a voice beside him whispered. "They think you're dead."

Spotlight turned his head. Hiding under his desk was a white and blue mech with a strange red face. He was too scrawny to be a gladiator, Spotlight observed, but still looked like he could put up a decent fight. The mech slowly crawled out from under the desk and sat next to Spotlight.

"I thought you were dead, too." he added.

"Well, I'm not." Spotlight replied. So much was rushing through his processor. What happened after he blacked out? Where were Nightshade, Sigma and Torx? Were they even still online? Was Torx able to fight off Lithium's killer with that old hammer?

"How'd I get in here?" he asked, hoping for answers to these questions.

"You were in here when I hid in here. Then they came in to look for me, and said you were offline." he quickly replied.

"Who's 'they'?"

"...That...that's not important! The important part is making sure they don't get us!"

"You're not making much sense."

A loud bang from the outside cut off their conversation.

"We have to get out of here!" the red-faced mech hissed, jumping up.

"Hold on!" Spotlight objected. "If we go out there, they---whoever they are---will see us. If we don't want to get caught, we'll have to stay here."

The red-faced mech slowly nodded.

"Alright..." he murmured, sitting down next to Spotlight.

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

The voices were muffled, but still audible. There were two of them.

"This is where he disappeared?"

"Yeah. I dunno where he went."

"Why's it so fraggin' dark in here?"

"That doesn't matter. We just gotta find the glitch so we can get back to Vos."

"What about that office?"

Spotlight froze.

"Nah, nothin' but a scrapped medic in there."

"This is stupid. Who cares if a glitch ground-pounder gets left behind? I'm leaving."

"Slaggit, Skywarp, get back here! Motormaster's gonna be torqued..."

Spotlight heard the two bots exit the med bay, hopefully, for good. Smiling, he turned to the other mech.

"Sounds like they left-" Spotlight started, but stopped when he saw the trembling state of the red-faced mech.

He was holding his head, shaking uncontrollably, and muttering to himself. "Following me...everything is following me! They're all out to get me!"

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen the Unmaker." he trembled. "I didn't want to offline; so I ran! I had to get away. He was going to get me! I had to get away."

"Calm down, calm down. It's alright." Spotlight smiled. "What's your designation?"

"Designation...Breakdown." he replied. "It's beginning, you know: the end of life as we know it! There's proof everywhere."

"No...I didn't know." Spotlight muttered. "Wait, you said that you saw the Unmaker? What do you mean?"

Breakdown looked around the room frantically. He spotted a small bucket of paint on a shelf and snatched it.

"Hey-?"

The paranoid bot ignored him, ripping off the lid to the bucket and dipping his hand in; now covering it in yellow paint. He stepped up to the nearest wall and began writing Cybertronian characters with his fingers. Each time he re-submerged his hand into the bucket, he threw a suspicious glance at Spotlight, as if he was worried the doctor would suddenly dissipate...or maybe even attack him. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he had the majority of the wall covered.

"The Unmaker." Breakdown explained, putting the finishing touches on his work. "He showed me this. Read it! It's our undoing!"

Spotlight did read it. More than once, actually, and in times before now.

"Are you sure it was the Unmaker that showed you this, and not a holo-projector?"

"How dare you say such a thing! Of course it was the Unmaker!"

The doctor sighed. "...I hate to break it to you, but this is an excerpt from the Covenant of Primus. You sure you didn't just back into a shelf and activate something?"

Breakdown growled. "I know what I saw. You're just too stupid to see it too!"

"Ok ok, no need to get all riled up. Where did you see this? I'll go check it out."

"Near the prep area." Breakdown replied. "But don't come crying back to me if you fall into the oblivion!"

"Trust me, I won't."

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

Spotlight tiptoed into the gladiator's prepping area. The entire back wall was cracked and damaged from a recent brawl, and most of the lockers had been broken into and raided. Luckily, the majority of the fighting seemed to be in the stands, arena, and area immediately outside the stadium. There was no sign of any holo-projectors...yet.

Rounding a corner, Spotlight froze at the sight of two mechs huddled in a corner; one noticeably wounded. They were the twins from Titan Stadium! The doctor hesitantly approached; he didn't want to startle the two and suddenly find himself missing a limb.

"Hey, is he alright?" Spotlight asked, cautiously stepping closer.

"Back off, or I'll rip your manifold out!" the red twin growled, snapping around and drawing a small blade.

"Calm down, it's ok. I'm a doctor." Spotlight reasoned. "I'm just looking around for-"

"A doctor? You can fix this?" he asked, turning to his brother. Spotlight took a better look at the wound. It was worse than he originally thought. Energon was leaking everywhere due to a ruptured fuel line close to his spark chamber.

"Hey...you're the cheap solvent medic." the yellow twin observed, wincing slightly. "I hope you've upgraded the place since last time..."

"Ok, gladiator. Help me get your brother to the med bay." he requested of the red mech.

"So you can fix him?"

"I'm gonna try."

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

A bulb on Spotlight's shoulder illuminated the dark, abandoned bay. His office door was open, which meant Breakdown left; either that, or he was now a maimed chassis behind his desk. Tools and berths were in disarray from all the commotion. His new patient was on the only exam table in the room that hadn't been turned over or sliced in half.

"That's some bright light, Doc." Sideswipe, the red twin, commented.

"You think they call me Spotlight because it sounds pretty?"

"Can we focus on me, here?" his patient, Sunstreaker, weakly requested.

"Right. Hand me that kit over there, please."

"I'm gonna get those stupid Decepticons. I'm gonna rip them to shreds." Sunstreaker repeated. "They'll wish they were never onlined once I find them. I'm gonna get them. I'm gonna get them good."

"So that means you're going to join the Autobots, then? Good." Spotlight nodded, replacing one of Sunstreaker's shredded fuel lines with a new one.

"Yeah, but..." Sideswipe started.

"But what?"

"But 'Autobot' is such a boring name."

"You'd join a faction just because of its name?"

"Pit yeah. Why do you think we joined Titan Stadium over the Scrap Bowl?" Sideswipe replied.

"Hang on. Didn't we see Sideways in the group of lowlifes that attacked us?" Sunstreaker inquired of his brother.

"Yeah! We did!" Sideswipe nodded. "No way we're gonna be on the same team as that loser. He actually tried to use a shrapnel sword on us!"

Spotlight smiled. It was a completely made-up excuse, but it worked for him.

SoSoSoSoSoSoS

He finished repairs as soon as Sunstreaker could walk on his own. The twins immediately left, saying that there were too many bots out there that angered them now (they liked to keep it at a maximum of three at a time, and it was well over that at the moment); so they had a lot of work to do. Spotlight didn't mind. He knew they were on the right path now.

A small rumble shook the floor. The remains of the med bay's monitor fizzled. Its small speaker unit suddenly came to life, catching his attention.

"Decepticons, rise up!"



More Note: TBC!

"Just think, right now as you read this, some guy somewhere is getting ready to hang himself."