Well, now we have Knock Out's POV about waking up, and we finally see that messed up past of his. This idea was given to me in a review by iamtheIcestar, but expanded upon by me. So, buckle down and enjoy the story..
P.S. Mentions of rape (not explicit, but its there.)
It was the pressure on his servo that eventually woke Knock Out from his recharge. Groaning softly, he hoped that he hadn't pinched the sensors in his wrist while sleeping. The sharp, electric pin pricks hurt for a while, shooting up his servo continuously as the connection was re-established, his processor once again reminding him that his servo was still attached.
But this pressure was much more pleasurable. It was warm, strong, yet gentle, and had his fingertips lightly brushing the surface of whatever it was that was holding him.
It was when the caresses were returned that Knock Out realized whatever was holding his hand was alive. Slowly onlining his optics, Knock Out surreptitiously glanced to the side where his servo was being stroked.
What he saw nearly made him suffer from spark failure.
Breakdown was lying on his berth, clearly still in recharge, his right servo holding Knock Out's, stroking softly. Which of these startled Knock Out more, he wasn't sure. Ever since they had stopped communicating, Breakdown had gotten out of their quarters as soon as he could. So to wake up to his partner still sleeping there was a rare feat in itself.
But holding his servo? What did that mean? Discreetly trying to pull his hand away, Breakdown whined in his sleep, and gripped his hand harder, before rolling over. The strength that Breakdown possessed was clearly evident, as Knock Out soon found out when he was dragged off his berth, over Breakdown, and landed firmly against the blue mech's side. In this position, they looked like lovers, definitely not just business partners.
Breakdown's arm came around Knock Out, effectively pinning him to his chest. Knock Out couldn't move unless he wanted Breakdown to wake up.
Knock Out groaned softly. This was not the best way to start off the solar cycle. First, he wakes up holding his partners hand. Then, said partner all but drags him over to his own berth, where he proceeds to spoon him, all of which happened while still in recharge.
But Knock Out couldn't help but notice how nice this felt. No, nice was too weak a word. This felt right. Like this was where he was meant to be. He was molded perfectly to Breakdown's chassis, everything fitting with no cumbersome and awkward positioning on either's part.
Yet this position was all too familiar to Knock Out. It was taking his processor down a dark path, deep into the recesses of his mind where he thought all of his demons were locked away.
Suddenly, the arm became not comforting, but a threat. Knock Out couldn't help but be reminded of those dark stellar cycles he was used as a slave, being traded to different mech's and femmes back in Kaon. In this past life, Knock Out was really a mech named Hubris, with black and silver finish and an seekers build, yet without the wings. Each master promised only true love, the best conditions, and the utmost care. And for a while it was. But once Hubris gave them everything he had, they tossed him out. It got so bad that he would just end up being taken in alleyways, and when he was being transferred from one owner to another. He was nothing but a whore. Not even that, since whores got paid. He was more of a slut, stuck in his own personal hell.
Eventually growing tired of all the mistreatment, Hubris ran out of the slums of Kaon and into the light of Iacon, the Autobot capital on Cybertron. There, he met a body artist, and had his entire finish and frame redone. He now had the frame of a grounder, and with each pass of the brush, he became less Hubris, and more a mech who may have had a future. The war was still young at this point, so there was no questioning of loyalties when this grungy mech from Kaon showed up.
But Hubris could still be tracked by name. He would have to change his records in the Cybertronian Dataplex, but there were only two ways to gain access to the records that wouldn't draw attention; either become a council member, or be a medic. Both positions allowed for full disclosure into the records of every Cybertronian online.
Becoming a council member, or some other high ranking official would no doubt get him sucked into this war all the sooner. Assuming the position of a medic would be his best bet for even a few cycles. After all, who would expect a former pleasure-bot to become a medic?
Roaming around the streets of Iacon, he eventually saw a medical facility, with a "Help Wanted" sign in the window, no previous experience needed. The CMO of that particular facility was a mech by the name of First Aid, and Hubris figured he could get at least a part time job here; anything was better than his old "job."
As Hubris slipped into the office, the first thing he heard was the whispers. Mech's and femme's were crowded in the waiting room of the medical facility, and were whispering furtively about the new comer.
"What I wouldn't give to get that one in the berth…"
"He seems like a mech with a wild side, just waiting to be set free…"
"Look at his finish! How can someone that beautiful not have a sparkmate already…"
"He's a real knock out, I'll give ya that…."
It was that with that last comment that Hubris stopped existing. Instead, Knock Out was born in his place. Once that was established in his processor, it was as if he had a chip on his shoulder. He needed to prove that he could be a good medic. But most importantly, he needed to get rid of those records. Using the confidence he had gained from their compliments, he sauntered up to the secretary's desk.
"Could I please have an application for the job opening? I saw the sign and figured, why not?" Knock Out purred.
Face plate flushed with embarrassment, the secretary stuttered that no application was necessary, just see her employer. His office was down the hall, first one on the left.
The interview went smoothly, and when asked for a name, Knock Out simply replied, "I'm your employee, and your business partner, but names are such frivolous things, don't you agree?" in such a sweet tone that poor First Aid had no chance.
He got the job, and as soon as he was able, became Knock Out for real. The records of Hubris never existed, replaced with all the information of Knock Out. Knock Out doubted that even Soundwave could find any records of his previous existence.
But he still wasn't happy. There was a dark part of his spark that demanded that the ones who hurt him over the stellar cycles deserved Pit for what they made him go through. His darkness grew and grew, until he was consumed by it. About two stellar cycles after he first got the job, Knock Out started coming in on his own time, treated some patients roughly, and made everything about him.
First Aid noticed, and said that if this behavior continued, Knock Out would not have a job anymore. Feeling like he had learned enough, Knock Out jumped ship.
Meanwhile, the darkness consumed him on the inside. He was still scared about being recognized (even though the only thing he had kept from his past life was his optics) and angry with those who had harmed him in the past, but Knock Out soon became a master at the art of acting, covering up any and all insecurities with the bravado of confidence.
By this time the war was in full swing, and Knock Out had been roaming around in neutral territory for a while now. But the Decepticons were gaining power, and destroying neutral grounds if citizens didn't cooperate was their current strategy.
Deciding to go with the more powerful side at the time, Knock Out joined the Decepticons first chance he got. When asked for what skills he had, he simply pointed out that he had medical training, and with the looks of things around here, they could need one.
Half patched up injuries were leaking energon everywhere, and were no doubt getting infected from the horrible quality of the metal that was being used as bandages.
Ever since that fateful day, Knock Out had used his hatred for his past masters to fuel his passion towards destroying Autobots. He pretended that he was taking apart his previous life with each 'Bot he destroyed, beyond hopes of recognition.
The hatred burned on, until it consumed all other emotion, a thick, black, oily substance that covered his spark and prevented all else from entering.
Then he met Breakdown.
From the beginning, Knock Out and Breakdown were close. Probably because Breakdown was the one mech who didn't try to pry into Knock Out's life. He gave him his distance, and it was this distance that eventually evolved into trust.
Breakdown was always there for him, and never questioned his motives. Soon they began speaking, though it was merely directions at first, especially over medical procedures.
But Breakdown had earned his keep more than once. Out on the battlefield, where everyone targeted Knock Out because of his smaller size and stature, Breakdown was always there to protect his friend. Sending them flying with those large silver hammers of his, Breakdown became Knock Out's personal bodyguard of sorts.
Yet the best part of this was that no one could see through Knock Out's façade. He was the most confident, well-maintained mech on the ship. Because no one questions perfection. And no one cared enough to wonder if he was over compensating for anything.
Except Breakdown. Breakdown seemed to be able to tell when Knock Out was in one of his "moods." Seemingly brought on by nothing, Knock Out would suddenly draw into himself, just enough for Breakdown to notice.
He was always there for him to talk to, and always there to get Knock Out back into the spirit of things. In fact, he was the only one that talked to Knock Out on a daily basis. All of the Vehicons were too stupid, not to mention below Knock Out, to have a conversation with. Starscream wasn't the best of company even on a good day, and Megatron….no one even wanted to test those waters.
So when his only confidant stopped talking to him, Knock Out was at a loss for what had happened. No matter what obnoxious thing Knock Out did, either Breakdown called him out on it, or he just worked around it.
Suddenly, Knock Out felt something wet sliding down his face. Blinking to clear his optics, he realized he was crying. Remembering his past life was always difficult, but different things triggered it; stasis cuffs, shorted out lighting, large crates of energon. Physical contact.
But this was different. This type of crying was not something Knock Out had experienced before. It was silent, so as not to wake Breakdown, but there was a feeling deep in Knock Out's spark that both calmed and terrified him.
It pacified the cherry red sports car because he thought he now understood the reason behind Breakdown's behavior. He wanted to do anything to ease the blue mech's pain, even if it was too late to soothe his own. He would do anything to protect him, even if it meant giving up his own life. He would claim him in everyway, and let the world see that Breakdown was HIS mech.
It terrified him because this emotion that had been used to manipulate him one to many times, and in a certain sense of the word, had been his death.
It was there, in Breakdown's arms, while silently letting coolant tears flow down his porcelain white face, that Knock Out had one of the biggest epiphanies of his life-cycle.
He was in love with his best (and only) friend and partner.
He was in love with Breakdown.
Well, look who decided to join the party! Finally KO gets it! But can Breakdown help him to over come this, or will he be ruled by it forever?
Again, leave a review telling me if I should keep going, or even just a quick "hi! great story!" thing...
I know that alot of you guys put my story on your favs or alert lists, which is great, but a review is just a bit more tangible...does that even make sense?
Probably not...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! It was my birthday yesterday, but I didn't have access to a computer all day, so..yeah...
3 Huntress