Hi all! So sorry for the long distance between the updates! I've been trying, but...I am a lazy author... :/) This chapter continues after the cliff hanger in the last one, and has BD's tasks and what not during when KO and Starscream were...uhh...busy...
Sorry if I didn't quite get the "in-shock" victim persona of Knock Out done quite right, but this chapter was kinda hard to write to begin with. I tried as best as I could, though, and I would appreciate any and all critiques to improve my writing style; just no flames, kay?
The first part of the chapter, above the first divider, is from KO's POV. The second section is BD's POV. This chapter was supposed to be a Breakdown chapter, but I wanted to get a little more of KO's perspective in there, just a little bit.
On with the chapter!
Pain. All he was aware of was pain. His helm ached, his fuel lines felt as if liquid fire was rushing through them, and his whole chassis felt as if he had been shot by Megatron's fusion cannon.
Grunting, Knock Out onlined his optics. The harsh light of the medbay greeted him. Squinting, he let his optics adjust, before movement caught his attention. Out of habit, Knock Out reached for his prod in the subspace pocket on his left thigh. Unfortunately, not only was he strapped down on the berth, but he also was causing more unnecessary pain. Quietly, he whimpered.
The same silhouette that had moved was now circling the berth, until the light finally shone on his facial plates. Concern was etched into Breakdown's expression as he finally stood in full view of his lover. Knock Out felt horrible on the inside.
Partly because of the immense amount of pain that he was in, but also because he felt as though he had let his lover down. Seeing him in that state…why would any mech want to keep him around? He's probably going to tell me that we're over. Knock Out thought bitterly.
Childishly turning his head, Knock Out continued to ignore Breakdown. That is, until Breakdown started to talk.
"Are you okay?" Smirking to himself, Knock Out bit back his retort of just dandy, how are you?
"Slag, that was stupid. What I meant was…I mean…Primus damnit Knock Out, what the Pit just happened? One moment you're telling me to just recharge, the next I find Starscream abusing you! What. Happened."
Knock Out, still keeping his helm turned away from the blue truck, stammered, "I told you…he was going to extract revenge…I-I just didn't expect it to be this…p-personal. I didn't want y-you to know. I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want you to see me like that. You must h-hate m-me, huh?"
Confused, Breakdown took a step back. "Babe, why would I hate you? YOU didn't do anything to trigger what Starscream did to you. You aren't to blame. You are innocent in this."
Coolant fluid threatened to fall from Knock Out's optics. He wanted to believe him, so badly. But his demons wouldn't allow himself to.
We told you not to go with that Primus damned seeker…but did you listen? Of course not. Screw you Knock Out... Oh wait; STARSCREAM ALMOST DID! GO TO HELL!
Whimpering, Knock Out did nothing to stop the demons. He didn't fight them, letting the darkness settle in the recesses of his mind, their misty tendrils covering the surface of his consience. After all, everything was done. Breakdown saw him at his lowest, his most broken. Why would he possibly want him back?
Turning the conversation around, Knock Out questioned, "How did you find me?"
"What?"
"I said…how did you find me? We were," a choked breath, " we were on the bottom level of the ship, in the storage compartments…no one goes down there…how...?"
"Well, after you told me to go to recharge…"
***FLASHBACK***
Breakdown groggily awoke, stretching like a feline, though not nearly as graceful as his partner. 'That was the best recharge that I've gotten in a while' he thought to himself. Rolling out of the berth, Breakdown looked through the back window to the medbay, expecting to see Knock Out working on datapads, or just cleaning his already immaculate equipment.
Instead, the barren emptiness of the medbay stretched before him, taunting him with the question of where his lover could have gone. Stepping into the medbay brought no more answers. The equipment hadn't been touched at all; in fact, the only thing that seemed remotely used was the terminal. The keypad felt warm, as though it had just been used. Other than that, it seemed the CMO hadn't been in his domain for long.
Suddenly, his audio receptors picked up a faint conversation. "…I have some things to discuss with you." Breakdown would recognize that screechy voice anywhere; Starscream. The clicking of his heels could be heard from miles away, although it was the next set of pedstepps that both calmed and alarmed Breakdown. The unique gait of none other than Knock Out himself followed Starscream down the hall.
'Well, I know where he is now…the question is, why didn't Starscream just talk with him in the medbay? Oh well, KO can handle himself…' Breakdown thought.
The blue truck filled his time with meaningless tasks. A couple Vehicons came in with cuts and slight hemorrhaging. The only task left was to bring several crates of old parts down to the storage levels. They were currently just clogging up space in the medbay; when either Breakdown or Knock Out had more time, they would go through them, salvage what they could, and scrap the rest. Cleaning and updating supplies like this was important to keep everything in top-notch condition, something that Knock Out prided himself on.
Walking down the hallway, Breakdown carried the crates. The twists and turns were almost dizzying, but eventually Breakdown came to the designated medical storage hall. Dropping the crates, Breakdown turned to leave, before he heard voices. Too low to make out words, but the tones sounded familiar. 'Starscream and Knock Out? Why the Pit are they down here?'Turning around the corner, Breakdown quickly ducked down behind some crates, to avoid from being seen. What he saw before he hid, however, would haunt him for the rest of his life-cycle. His Knock Out, torn and bleeding on the ground, being violated by Starscream; it made his energon boil.
Knock Out began tossing his head as Starscream grew closer to his panel, before he made optic contact with his partner.
***END FLASHBACK***
"…and you know what happened from there," Breakdown softly concluded.
Knock Out turned to his mech-friend, as much as he was able to do so with his injuries. "…So, you aren't…d-disgusted w-with me?"
Crooning softly, Breakdown ran a hand over the medic's helm fin. "Of course not Knock Out; I would never doubt you."
Mewling at his touch, Knock Out finally made eye contact with Breakdown. He wanted to believe him so much, but after his past, he just felt like he couldn't. Then again, no one would have stuck with him for such long time, especially not after what he had just been through. Breakdown was truly a one-in-a-million mech; he was amazed that he had stayed with him. Although Breakdown didn't know the full story, he was proving himself to be as un-judgemental as they came. And that was a trait that Knock Out cherished more than Breakdown would ever realize.
"How bad was it?" Knock Out finally asked. The torn nervous circuitry made everything hurt more than it probably should have; just remembering the sensations sent phantom pain through his chassis. Breakdown straightened slightly, but kept his hand on the CMO's helm.
"You were bleeding out through your shoulder-struts, inner-elbows, and hips. Most of the joints in your arm were severed. I had to," a shuddering breath interrupted the mech before he continued, "I had to replace your throat tubing. Starscream had severely bruised it; luckily, your vocalizer wasn't damaged, so you still sound the way you always have."
Knock Out shuddered at the note of raw pain that was evident in his partners voice. He had caused him so much suffering, and yet he was still here.
"And I always will be," Breakdown said. Confused, Knock Out looked up at his partner, pain momentarily forgotten, at the sudden change in direction this conversation had taken. Slightly chuckling, Breakdown answered, "You were speaking aloud. And never think that I would keep you responsible for what has happened. It wasn't your fault."
Words couldn't describe the bitter-sweet relief that flooded the red medic. Breakdown said he believed in him, but his past dictated that everyone who got too close was a liar. Hating that he was even thinking of doubting Breakdown, Knock Out batted away the idea, to no avail. Not to mention that he was still in pain, and Starscream may have still been out there.
Unconsciously, Knock Out's right servo twitched, sending sharp tendrils of pain through his arm. Taking the subconscious hint, Breakdown wove his fingers through the medics, gently squeezing. Yes, Knock Out had alot of slag falling on him, and yes, every circuit of his body felt as if it had been jabbed with his own electric prod; and yet, all he needed at the moment was the sensation of his partners hand in his own, the steady beeping of the machinery in the back ground assuring both occupants that Knock Out would be just fine.
Several solar cycles passed and Knock Out's recovery went as well as could be expected. On the outside, interacting with the Vehicons, Soundwave, and the re-instated Megatron, Knock Out was his usual arrogant self. If Breakdown hadn't seen the damage first hand, nor held him as he fought off panic attacks and nightmares nearly-every night, he wouldn't have suspected any foul play.
Knock Out allowed touch above the waist, from the base of his neck, anywhere down to his abdominal plating. His shoulders were now fully repaired, but the emotional damage that went with that region, as well as his inner-elbows and hips, kept him from allowing touch there. Even light pressure sent Knock Out spinning mentally and emotionally, from the memories of his attack. Starscream had been kept busy, running errands for Megatron and trying to make up for taking over while he was incapacitated, so the seeker was not in Knock Out's daily schedule. Which was great for now; but who knew how he was going to react to seeing his attacker again?
But one thing that Knock Out wouldn't allow, was to be kissed. Breakdown wasn't entirely sure why. The joints, he could understand; they had literally been ripped apart. But kissing? That was sacred to them, almost holy between them. It kept them grounded when nothing else did. And Knock Out was taking that away. Was this how he felt when Breakdown started to pull away? Lost and abandoned? Breakdown understood that suffering through events like this took time and patience, and Breakdown had plenty of the latter (the former was never a guarantee; one must not forget that they were at war), but it would help if Knock Out would talk about his problems.
Breakdown had an idea, but he would need Knock Out's trust to do so; he just hoped that his medic wouldn't pull away from him. This idea hit him when he was laying on his berth; Knock Out was sitting by the desk in their quarters, tapping away at a datapad. Since the incident was kept under wraps, the medic had to continue work as normal. Even if it involved working during his time off, since his injuries hindered his normal working pace. Rolling onto his side, Breakdown observed him, watching for any signs of discomfort.
After continuing this for about 5 joors, Breakdown finally stood up and meandered over to Knock Out's station. Leaning down so he was optic to optic with the sports car, offering a hand, he asked, "Can you come here for a second? I need help with something..."
A little startled at his partner's forwardness, Knock Out stood, taking the offered hand, and asked "Sure. What do you need?" Knock Out had been a little apprehensive with answering direct questions, or going to an unnamed destination with mech's that he didn't necessarily trust. This made taking orders from Megatron a little bit harder than usual, but this time it wasn't just the vain mech's pride keeping him from obeying.
Taking a deep breath, Breakdown faced him, "Do you trust me?" Ah. The loaded question. A hesitant nod was his answer, and he gently steered Knock Out to their final destination: the washracks.
Every officer on board the Nemisis had a private washrack in their quarters. Since Knock Out was CMO, he qualified. And so did Breakdown, by association. Turning on the solvent, Breakdown adjusted the temperature before facing Knock Out. He stood, stock still, not wanting to get too close, lest he get pulled under against his will. Breakdown watched his reaction, before re-stating his earlier question, "Do you trust me?"
Knock Out briefly imitated a young organic's animated T.V. show, with how his helm whipped back and forth between Breakdown and the solvent pouring out of the washracks.
"Nothing funny I promise. It'll be just us, okay?" Breakdown encouraged, extending a hand. He wouldn't push Knock Out to do anything against his will, but he needed Knock Out to acknowledge that he would never intentionally hurt him. The whole world seemed to slow down on it's axis as Knock Out slowly reached a hand forward, and placed it into his lover's. Not breaking optic contact, Breakdown led them backward into the stall.
He pulled Knock Out's servo under the spray, nothing more, just his servo. Breakdown lovingly massaged the medic's servo. The palm, the long, elegant digits, and the wrist joints; not a single place went untouched. The blue truck felt the tension begin to bleed out of his partner's frame, and cautiously began to massage up his forearm. Before he reached the elbow joint, Breakdown doubled-back down the forearm, keeping the massage light. The same pattern followed on Knock Out's other arm, and the duo spent the next 10 joors relishing in the fragile, trusting silence. His abdominal plating, lower and upper back, and, briefly, thighs were massaged by Breakdown, letting the relaxing feeling of the warm solvent and his lovers fingers calm him down.
Once Knock Out had relaxed, Breakdown dared to make optic contact. Knock Out's porcelain facial plates were relaxed for the first time in solar-cycles, but his optics told another story. Confusion and suspicion swirled around, but there was almost a desperate glint to the ruby iris'. Gently, Breakdown cradled his partner's jawline in his servos, and gazed into his optics. The steam from the shower clung to their plating, creating condensation on their bodies. Cautiously, Breakdown dipped his helm lower, going in for a kiss, only to be met with air. Knock Out had twisted away from him as much as his servos would allow, his optics screwed shut in shame.
"...Did something else happen that I wasn't aware of, Knock Out?" questioned Breakdown, letting his partners face go. Knock Out took two steps away from him, before turning around and mumbling his response. "I didn't catch that..." Breakdown supplied, gently from behind him.
The red mech took a deep breath before facing his partner. He balked at how close Breakdown had gotten, but he pulled forward. Whispering in Breakdown's audios, he finally told his secret. "It's stupid, but...I feel...tainted by him. Like I'll always be just his sick toy!" Knock Out jerked away, as if the memory had caused him to be physically struck. A weakened whisper floated to the blue mech's audios as he shut off the solvent, "I don't deserve you."
Turning around, Breakdown threw caution the wind. He grabbed his medic's face, and he kissed his medic with all the passion that he felt for him and him alone. At first, it was roughly, but passionately, frenzied. Only at the beginning, however. Soon, the fiery maelstrom rushing through Breakdown's fuel lines calmed down considerably, as did the kiss. Cooling down into a gentle, loving embrace, the kiss suddenly went from an one-sided, forceful assertion of feelings, to a two-way, proclamation of adoration. Knock Out's servos framed Breakdown's helm after a moment, before he threw his arms around his neck, kissing him with all the force of before. Breakdown's glossa ran along Knock Out's lower lipplate, and gasping he opened his mouth. Moaning low in his throat at the show of trust and love from his partner, Breakdown slid his glossa into Knock Out's mouth.
The taste was like nothing he had ever had before in his life. The seraphic taste, blended with sweetening taste of energon was both familiar and newly potent. Having sampled Knock Out's unique flavor before, Breakdown thought he knew what to expect. Thought being the key word. The small doses from Knock Out's glossa paled in comparison to tasting directly from the source. Knock Out nicked his sharp dentas down on Breakdown's lower lip, drawing energon. He then pressed his glossa against the wound, drawing a whine from the larger mech. But words still needed to be said; the story was incomplete in a few places. With no small amount of self control, Breakdown broke the kiss.
And almost promptly dove right back in.
Dazed red optics gazed back at him, mouth slightly agape, vents heaving. The condensation dripped off the medic's frame, causing steam to emit from his chassis. Overall, the mech was walking temptation.
Not that Breakdown was any better off. His vents were working double time, trying to cool down his chassis, the steam enveloping them in a secluded world. Reluctant to shatter the moment, Breakdown leaned back in towards his partner, mouthing down his neck column, drawing a mewl from Knock Out, before whispering in his audio, "Don't ever say that again. You deserve the best Knock Out, and that's what I'm trying to give you." Knock Out looked at him almost regretfully, before Breakdown quickly whispered, "You still taste like you; nothing and no one else. Just you." Breakdown didn't know if his partner even recognized the words, but Knock Out's next actions proved that something got through.
Knock Out leaned into his embrace, into a full hug; not a single part of them wasn't touching. Thighs, abs, chest, and shoulders aligned as best they could with the size difference. Wrapping his arms back around Breakdown's neck, Knock Out snuggled closer, tucking his helm under his lovers chin. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's embrace, even from the transition from the washracks to their main quarters. Breakdown carried his partner "bridal style" (as the organics would call it), keeping his partner's helm resting on his chest.
As the sun set on the planet that they were orbiting, the pale light turning the normally ruby red medic into a soft-blue outlined specter on the berth. Breakdown stayed awake however. Watching over his recharging lover, the blue truck caressed Knock Out's cheek struts, before leaning down and kissing his helm fin. Tomorrow he needed to be as open and trusting as Knock Out had been in the washracks today. He was going to tell him about his past. The last thing he saw before he went to recharge was his lover curling up into his embrace, faintly smiling in his dreams.
TA-DA! Behold! The weirdest fluff I have ever written... 0.o...yeah..that's just weird. Please, please review! If you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out!
Also, plz, PLZ, give me any and all ideas that you have for the upcoming chapters. Something that you want me to put in, something that you would like to see explained; anything! I'm open!
Until next time!
3 Huntress