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9 Years Post-War

The room was silent—no sound but the ticking of the clock and the occasional clink of metal as Sideswipe fidgeted. He snuck a glance at the official-looking femme behind the desk. The disapproval in her stare was almost tangible. All she'd done for the last twenty minutes was glare at him in that silently-judging way. It made the waiting even worse.

Behind him, Sideswipe heard the door slide open. He twisted around in his seat to see Knockout step into the office. His guardian glanced at him only briefly before turning his attention to the femme. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes; thank you for coming in." The femme picked up a datapad as Knockout seated himself next to Sideswipe. "I—" She stopped suddenly as she got a good look at Knockout. That seemed to happen a lot, Sideswipe had noticed. Bots saw the red optics and they just froze.

"Uh…" The femme struggled to recover. "I… You're Sideswipe's guardian."

"Obviously." Knockout gaze didn't falter. "What's the problem? Did he do something wrong?"

"Uh…" Seeming to regain her composure, the femme looked at her datapad again. "Well... It seems that this afternoon, he started a fight with one of the other sparklings."

"A fight." Knockout's tone was neutral, as was his expression. Sideswipe shrunk farther into his seat.

"Yes; according to his teacher, he began arguing with one of his classmates, and it escalated to blows. Witnesses say Sideswipe initiated the physical contact."

Knockout nodded, face still indiscernible. "Will he be suspended?"

"At this point, no. But he will have to serve detention. And if there are any further offenses, he could be expelled."

"Understood."

Sideswipe sulked in his seat as the adults finished their meeting. This was all the council's fault, he thought. If they hadn't made him go to this stupid school, this wouldn't have happened. Why did he have to go to school anyway? Knockout could teach him everything he needed to know. Stupid council and their stupid rules…

After a few minutes, Knockout stood up and motioned for Sideswipe to come along. Sideswipe pushed himself off the chair and shuffled out the door. His guardian said nothing as they transformed and drove towards home. The silence was like a blade looming above Sideswipe's head. He was just waiting for it to drop.

At last, Knockout spoke. "Explain yourself, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe huffed. "Girder started it. He called me a glitch-head."

"I see." There it was again, that unreadable tone that could mean apathy or veiled anger. It was almost worse than yelling. Knockout pulled to a stop outside the medical center. Sideswipe transformed, expecting them to go inside. But Knockout just sat there, motionless.

Sideswipe stood awkwardly next to the larger car until he could stand it no longer. "Are you mad at me?"

"Not really," Knockout replied, to Sideswipe's shock. "It's a typical reaction to insults, especially for sparklings."

Sideswipe relaxed, relieved. "So I'm not in trouble?"

"I didn't say that." Knockout transformed. He folded his arms and gave Sideswipe the stern look he reserved for the most serious of parenting offenses. "Tell me, Sideswipe: why is it wrong to fight?"

Sideswipe stared at the ground. "Because we're supposed to be peaceful and not hurt other bots," he muttered.

"A typical Autobot answer. But no," Knockout said, surprising the sparkling again. "The correct answer is, because it's stupid. It risks injury, scratches your paint, and rarely makes a lasting difference. Only an idiot tries to solve problems by fighting. Are you an idiot, Sideswipe?"

Sideswipe shook his head. "But he made fun of me—"

"Kid, if I had a credit for every jibe that's been thrown at me, I'd be rich. And if I picked a fight with everyone who insulted me, I'd be dead." The older mech crouched and looked Sideswipe soberly in the optics. "It's not pleasant to be made fun of, but it won't usually kill you. Brawling, on the other hand, might. If you want to survive, you need to learn to tell the vital battles from the non-vital ones—and pick your fights accordingly."

Knockout stood again. "The smart thing to do is to avoid direct confrontation whenever possible. If you absolutely must retaliate, do it in an indirect way—and make sure no one can prove you did it. Understand?"

Sideswipe nodded slowly.

"Good." Knockout steered him into the house. "Unfortunately, there are times when a fight can't be avoided. When that happens, you need to be prepared. And there's no time to start like the present."

Sideswipe stared at Knockout, confused. Knockout was oblivious to his disbelief as he tapped his chin in thought.

"For the next month, you'll spend your free time training with me. We'll consider that your punishment. Evasive maneuvers will probably be the most useful for you right now, but once you've mastered those, we can work on basic hand-to-hand—"

"Wait," Sideswipe interrupted, not believing the words coming out of his guardian's mouth. "You're gonna teach me to fight?"

"I'm going to teach you to survive," Knockout clarified. "Strictly defensive techniques, for emergency use only. If you use them on anyone at school, you'll be cleaning the entire house for a month. Got it?"

"Got it."

"And…don't mention this to anyone else," Knockout added as they went inside. "I doubt the Autobots would understand."

Sideswipe agreed. His guardian was weird. But maybe, he thought, it was a good kind of weird.