"We'vebeen trying to locate Perceptor," Blaster had said. "His hailing frequency is dead, his signature isn't within range, and no one's seen or heard from him in ages. He might as well have dropped off the edge of the universe."
"So, you think he's stranded somewhere?" First Aid asked. "It's not like Perceptor to just disappear."
Blaster shrugged. "Chances are the war drove him out like everyone else. If he told us where he was going, we didn't get the message."
Amputations were being made almost every day, and Knock Out nor Ratchet had time to rebuild lost limbs. Even now, with the added help of some new volunteers whom Knock Out was more than happy to welcome, work still moved at a road-paver's pace.
No one wanted to wait for Perceptor. Some began to believe that no effort was made to contact him. This was made clear when one patient, delirious with pain and probably sedatives, began shouting when Knock Out went to look him over.
"It's you!" the mech screeched as soon as Knock Out walked up to him. "This- all of this is your fault!"
Other patients (the ones that could, anyway) craned their necks to watch the commotion. The shouting mech, seeing that he had a somewhat captive audience, continued.
"I know you! Everyone knows you and no one trusts you! Why isn't Perceptor here!? Why aren't you telling us anything!?"
Knock Out looked at all the optics on him. Before he could even think of some answer, he was interrupted by the soapboxing mech behind him.
"I'll tell you why: this one here," he pointed accusingly at Knock Out. "he worked with Megatron directly! And no one changes sides that quickly!" Feebly, the patient tried to sit up, but failed. "This is your plan, isn't it? You're going to infect us Autobots one by one and leave us all here to die!"
An uproar rose from the other patients. Knock Out reflexively took a defensive stance. "None of that is true!" He tried to shout over the noise. "He's out of his mind!"
"Decepticon!" the patient cried. "He's deceiving you all! That's all he knows: deception!"
Knock Out couldn't deny the patient loud enough. Everything he said was drowned out by the others. Heat boiled in the pits of his tanks, rose through his spark chamber and roared in his processor until he was suddenly bracing himself with his buzz saw held out beside him and revving. The shouting and accusing died down and left the growling o the saw to prevail as Knock Out took a fake swing at some of the group before marching over to stand threateningly over the patient that had first spoken.
"One more word…" Knock Out snarled, bringing his saw dangerously close to the patient's face. "and I'll make sure it's the last word that ever crackles out of your vocalizer!"
"Knock Out, stop!" First Aid yelled from a few feet away.
Knock Out looked over his shoulder at the nurse. Aid had his hands out in front of him and was slowly approaching the Aston Martin. "Take it easy. Put the saw away and step back from the 'bot."
Knock Out glared back at the patient, who's optics darted from him to the saw still hovering over him. The saw slowed to a stop and retracted into Knock Out's arm. He turned from the patient quickly to stare daggers into the other 'bots watching. He hadn't realized how hard he was venting. Whatever heat was possessing him immediately froze over into icy claws raking his spinal strut. He jerked when he felt First Aid's hand tap gently on his arm. He led Knock Out towards the exit.
"Nothing to see here," Aid announced to the others. "Please go back to resting. We'll be with you in moment."
"Don't come back, Decepticreep!" someone answered as the door slid shut behind them.
Knock Out pulled his arm from First Aid's light grip and stormed up the hallway.
"That guy was on narcotics," First Aid called, following the other doctor. "'Bots say a lot of things while on that stuff."
"Yeah," Knock Out barked back. "And the others listened."
"Why does that even matter to you? Last time I heard of you, you were Knock Out: the guy that doesn't give Rattrap's aft about what anyone says!" First Aid said, catching up to Knock Out. But, Knock Out stopped and rounded on him.
"I've spent weeks devoting my time to them, cleaning up after them and, you know, making sure they don't up and turn to ash," Knock Out growled. "And this is how they repay me? I've been trapped in a sea of decaying metal for an ungodly amount of hours, I haven't even gotten a break to get any sleep, and they still bite the servo that literally feeds them!" He paused. "And please don't give me the whole 'this isn't about me, it's about the patients' speech. Ratchet already filled me in on that tired mantra."
Knock Out's voice had died from a rage-induced snarl to a defeated sigh. His optics were aimed at the floor.
"I get it," First Aid said. "It's not exactly a secret that tensions are high with you and…everyone. But, performances like that aren't going to help anything."
Knock Out didn't look up.
"Look," First Aid started again. "It's not like no one recognizes your efforts. I'm glad you're here and, believe it or not, Ratchet is too. With an epidemic like this, we need all the medical expertise we can get." He turned back to the medbay. "Maybe it's because I'm too optimistic for my own good like you say, but I think you'll prove yourself soon enough. And, hey, I haven't given up on you yet."
Knock Out looked up in time to notice that First Aid had a limp.
"Ratchet!"
Knock Out looked up from one of the patients he was checking on when he heard Arcee's voice above the common din of the medbay. He saw her moving like she was weighted down. He craned his head and found out that the weight was First Aid. An unseen force dragged Knock Out's peds towards them. First Aid was small, but still bigger than Arcee. Knock Out supported the nurse's other side and they found somewhere for First Aid to sit.
First Aid's right leg was a jagged stub.
"Found him on the floor," Arcee said as Knock Out searched First Aid for any more rust. "A patient flagged me down and pointed him out to me." The femme arranged First Aid into as comfortable a sitting position as she could. Knock Out grabbed Aid's chin and turned his head towards him. There was a welt in the side of his face. When Knock Out let go Aid's visor brightened and his head lulled up into an awake, albeit foggy, position.
"Arcee?" he mumbled. "…What am I doing on the floor?"
Arcee glanced at what was left of Aid's leg and made a face. "Let's say your leg went out from under you."
"No, it couldn't have eaten his entire leg that fast," Knock Out said, examining the stub. "That rust would have had to be working for…days at least." He looked up as Aid. "You knew you were infected."
First Aid's optic ridges drew together. "What, this? It's just a-…oh. It got worse."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Knock Out said exasperatedly. "You should have been resting, not working!"
Aid's visor flashed indignantly. "Incase you haven't noticed, we're a little short handed. You need me here!"
"What we need is for you to shut up and heal up," Knock Out snapped. He and Arcee lifted Aid by the shoulders again eventually found him a cot. It was a miracle they found one, especially now. They set him down and Knock Out stared down at the welt splitting Aid's face. Those icy claws from before drug into his processor as he literally watched his nurse die under his supervision.
"Go find Ratchet," Knock Out said to Arcee before charging off.
"And where are you going?" Arcee asked, her voice laced with something accusatory.
Knock Out looked over his shoulder and snatched her cold blue gaze with his crimson one. "To prove myself."
