Bulkhead and Knock Out feel the effects of Tox-En. An energon deprived Starscream determines he wants to murder everyone and now seems to have the means to do so.

Title is in reference to Fowler's random comment in Nemesis Prime.

Maybe there was a reason this guy didn't seem to fight.

Maybe it was Primus's way of playing favorites for the bots. After all, when he was on the receiving end of this deadly skill, it seemed to Wheeljack that the small autobot army on earth would have been easily defeated if the tall con were to fight more often.

From the ground, the wrecker sneered upwards defiantly. He'd done a good job with the fight at least. The crack on Soundwave's before perfect visor attained to that.

For a few moments of the fight, he'd thought he could win too.

Giving the taunt about last words hadn't been his wisest moment. Wheeljack really should have just struck fast and hard. Cut through that spindly neck, kept an optic out for those data cables, kept his guard up.

Overconfidence. Ultra Magnus would be frowning at him. Probably say something pompous about 'smug wreckers' and their propensity for 'messing everything up'.

Yeah. Frag you too Magnus. Even when the commander was a galaxy away, his criticisms followed Wheeljack.

Soundwave looked over the resonance blaster. Or he seemed to be looking it over. Who knew what he was doing behind that mask.

Who knew if that even was a mask and not a face itself?

Well, in the least, if that was his face, Wheeljack could understand a bit better why he'd be so mad about the crack.

Battlefield rumors had always been spread around about this con. No one wanted to face the silent spymaster except those who were confident glory seekers.

Heh. Yeah, that was him alright. But this hadn't just been about putting battlefield rumors to rest. He was trying to keep Soundwave distracted. Keep him away from Ratchet while the doc did his trick with the bird.

And he'd had an upper servo in the fight at times. He'd felt invigorated, really. Soundwave was a real opponent. The con took the entire battle seriously instead of ever seeming to underestimate the wrecker.

Wheeljack liked a good, dirty, serious fight. And he had 'shattered expectations'; always did and always would so long as there were people like Magnus out there underestimating him.

The resonance blaster pointed down at him. He stiffened as much as his injured form could.

Well. No more shattering expectations. Looked like Magnus and the rest of the doubters were right.

Somewhere in the forest, the doc was gonna have to face Soundwave down too.

That felt even more like a failure than the mere fact that he had lost this fight.

And then-

The killing blow never came.

Soundwave's visor jerked away, 'looking' out in the direction of the forest. Schematics- no, coordinates- lit up on the cracked screen.

It was the drone. Lazerbeak. And Ratchet was still with that bird.

In a moment though, he'd be dead and not have to worry about how the doc was about to be in scrap.

Except he wasn't killed. Except Soundwave flew away without sparing him another nano of attention.

The wrecker pushed slowly up on his arms and stared at the departing con in confusion. It wasn't like it was a matter of time constraints. Soundwave could easily of killed him and then flew away to save his drone. Time wise, it would have made no difference.

So what the scrap was that about? Wheeljack's optics narrowed.

It was weird. What sort of decepticon didn't take any excuse to kill an enemy?

Starscream was doing his best to kill them both.

He really was.

But it wasn't exactly easy to get someone the size of Megatron himself off him.

Not for lack of trying though.

The mech above him pressed him down further into the ice. Its unyielding solid weight pressed against his wings.

It meant he should probably stop thrashing around.

Starscream did nothing of the kind. Much to the Prime's frustration.

"Discontinue this struggling," Optimus ordered, holding the flailing seeker down.

Hah, yes, and he was in such a position to follow any orders the Prime threw around.

"Get off me!" Starscream yelled back and tried to hit at the mech. Unfortunately, his servos were still being held down to the ground and his hope went nowhere.

"Calm down," the Prime replied, "And I will."

He wasn't an idiot! He had figured that much out already!

No need to treat him like he was too slow to realize the disadvantages of his current struggle.

Such thinking made him thrash a bit in good measure. Then he made himself calm down. As low as he was on energon, Starscream really couldn't afford to keep burning fuel through useless frantic movements.

"Now get off," he hissed dangerously. The Prime moved slowly up, one servo returning to its gun mode and its barrel pointing at him. Funny how all these big dangerous cannons tended to look him down.

"Lead us to the relic."

Oh ho! Demanding, was he? All Starscream needed to do was look at the blue grounder by Prime's side to know his answer to any autobot demands.

"Ordering me around?" the seeker chuckled, "Do you think I am one of your autobots?"

Before Optimus could answer, Starscream had sat up and all mirth was buried in rage. "Apparently you'll let anyone in these days. But not me-" he seethed "-No, I distinctly remembered what my efforts to join you led to."

The wind howled around them. Optimus's gun arm didn't dip but Starscream thought he heard him sigh.

"Tell me, really, be honest," the seeker stabbed at the air to point at Breakdown. "After everything I've done for the autobots; helping restore your memory, saving Arcee's life, offering my valuable intel- you toss me aside oh so righteously yet pick this scrapheap up? You would take our previous alliances for granted, but let him walk with you without any of the shackles you had me in when I had attempted to do the same?"

Breakdown had the audacity to cross his arms and smirk.

It made Starscream boil with the desire to tear that smarmy expression off.

Optimus didn't change his expression. He kept his stare on Starscream and it seemed to the seeker to be just one step away from hostile. No matter how angry he felt, Starscream still wanted to flinch away from that stare. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and unable to fly away. Nothing about this situation seemed hopeful or advantageous.

"While you have proved beneficial to us, it has only been to further you own interests," the Prime stated.

Oh? When he tried to leave the only faction he was still seemingly important enough to for Megatron to have dug him from that cave, just so he could throw himself on the enemy? That had been furthering his interests...how?

Starscream knew a few reasons why, but he refused to entertain those thoughts so long as he was going to sit here in indignation.

Which, until either of these two turned on each other or he was able to strike at either, seemed to be exactly what he was going to be forced to do.

"We can't all be as selfless as you, now can we?" he sneered. Both servos moved to his lap, unassuming. Not standing yet. Not dangerous. Him? No, not dangerous at all.

Come now Arcee. Look, he's pathetic. He won't open those cuffs to seal his doom.

How good (although absolutely infuriating) it was to be underestimated.

"Though what a hypocrite you are," he went on, looking away from the Prime to glare at Breakdown. "Furthering my interests, you say? But you let Breakdown fight alongside you and wherever he follows, the mad doctor does as well. Do you believe they aren't furthering their best interests? Then you do not know Knock Out at all."

It made his plating bristle to hear the grounder laugh instead of grow nervous at what he had hoped would be seeds of doubt.

"You still go around bragging 'bout snuffing Cliffjumper every hour?" Breakdown asked, "Now, I may be reaching, but seems to me that wouldn't exactly make you sound all that promising for them."

Oh, he would pull this mech apart-

"You're no saint either," Starscream leered darkly. "Or does the Prime not know your track record? The way he pontificates about being so righteous makes me think he does not."

He would have willingly spilt all those juicy details if Optimus hadn't cut them both off.

"Starscream. It would be wise for you to lead us to the relic."

Veiled threats were still threats, the seeker thought sharply.

But it seemed this lovely chat was over.

Perhaps if it had just been the Prime here, Starscream would have tried to curry favor. Perhaps he could of played the sycophant and the hopeful neutral.

Maybe he could have acted helpful in an attempt to once again barter a place among the security of a faction.

The presence of another decepticon traitor, seemingly so flawlessly integrated among the autobots who had so pointedly turned him down, ruined that possibility. Starscream considered himself a pragmatic mech. He did.

Pragmatically, it would be best to help. Doing so offered a win/win scenario: either his enemies wipe each other out or one of them repays his sparkfelt kindness with energon.

But the seeker had his limits.

And there was no chance that he would lick the pedes of these two ungrateful slaggers.

Oh no.

He would make the Prime pay for turning him down and accepting useless grounders.

He would.

The first vehicon went down from Bulkhead's gunshot. The second flew too low and Knock Out caught one wing with his staff. The ensuing volts brought it to a crash on the black igneous rock.

Like most scouting groups, there weren't many of them. The final drone made a spin in the air that Starscream would be proud of and shot away.

Bulkhead dropped his arm back down.

"Huh." He looked over at the medic. "Guess that means he'll be back."

"With company, no doubt," Knock Out agreed.

That got them both moving.

The wrecker was shockingly good at tracking. His plan was to follow the lava flow downhill. Bulkhead believed that the flow could've carried the relic away from the coordinates.

Knock Out had never realized the rural strategy skills of the mech before on Cybertron. There, he'd just seen the mech doing his construction efforts and on the occasional movie night.

The green guy seemed like a natural comic relief character rather than anyone with uniquely earned skills.

He had a feeling his Arcee would be scolding him for that sort of thinking. Primus, this world's Arcee probably would too.

Knock Out let himself stew a bit in the disappointment that he wasn't with her on her relic hunt in the city right now.

Why would Optimus stick him here, in the blistering humidity, with the mech that his partner kind of, well, hated?

Fact was that the Prime probably had a good reason. Knock Out just hadn't figured it out yet.

But he made the determination to ask Optimus when he got back.

At the same time, he remembered what he'd told the big guy weeks earlier. "I want to fight for teammates". Wasn't Bulkhead a teammate?

If the wrecker had shown up at that little base the medic and Brainstorm were holed up at, wouldn't he be ecstatic?

He was determined, then, to make this little outing work. They'd get the toxic relic and return to base as better allies. They could be friends and his position among the autobots would get a little bit more intertwined, a little more important and secured.

"Hey Raf," Bulkhead spoke over the joint comm and brought Knock Out out of his plotting. "I-We've got a bead on the relic."

The voice that spoke back was decidedly not that of a prepubescent human teen.

«Raf is busy» said that one squishy Knock Out had abducted once- «I'll take it from here.»

Bulkhead glanced over at the medic and made a face of amused disbelief. The red mech returned it.

The human, oblivious to the faces they were making at his words, made no comment.

"Fowler?" the wrecker laughed. "How was your beauty sleep?"

«Fine. Dreamt I finally got some respect from you.»

That drew a snort of laughter from the so-far silent ex-con.

"Witty," he remarked lowly without much thought.

His companion responded to the agent without vocally acknowledging the remark. "Keep dreaming," he laughed.

They shared another amused glance. Knock Out flashed him a grin and Bulkhead met it with a thumbs up.

How fun conversations behind someone's back were, he remembered. That had been a hobby he'd mostly given up while playing model autobot on the newly reborn Cybertron.

But it was all in good fun, wasn't it? Surely it had to be if the wrecker and human were up to it.

The conversation was interrupted when they hopped down one of the cooled lava ridges and saw something gray. A cybertronian cylinder.

Bulkhead moved for it first. Trailing behind, Knock Out kept his staff out and ready for any surprise visitors.

He couldn't exactly say he was surprised when the wreckers good spirits sank swiftly.

"Oh."

It was exactly what Hardshell had reported to the Nemesis in that other life. Bulkhead said as much a moment later:

"Base? We have a problem."

With a roar, Dreadwing broke out of the snow prison the Prime had dropped upon him.

The large seeker spent a moment heaving. Then he stepped forward and found his sword where it had been discarded on the disrupted ice.

What purpose was frozen water to play in keeping him down? The Prime had not tried to dispatch him.

It was a mistake Dreadwing intended to take advantage of.

With worn steps, he moved out of the enclave their battle had taken them to. On the flat snow, he saw what remained of his vehicon squadron.

So the Prime would throw him under powder but would kill the drones? Such typical autobot hyp-

Wait. Dreadwing crouched down by the corpses to take a closer look.

These wounds were not dealt by the short blades of the Prime. These were thin claw marks.

This was Starscream's doing.

XL- S33Y. XL- TY19. The missing in action. The ones these two soldiers had asked him to find.

He knew the names of those he had never once met, but failed to recognize the designations of these soldiers in his command.

With a sigh, Dreadwing left behind the scene of his failure.

He had two traitors to catch and a Prime to defeat.

Armor. It was armor.

And there was no one here to claim it but himself.

The others had gone away to fight. The Prime had implied that Breakdown should stay and guard their 'prisoner', but the blue mech had charged out at the first sign of battle and first insult to his honor.

Truly, Starscream could not have felt more blessed.

They would tear at each other and forget that he was left with the relic.

Small little seeker. Weak scrawny seeker. Kept around to be Megatron's punching bag, nothing more. Lost his one skill when he lost his T-Cog.

Oh how he loved breaking these preconceived notions (and their spines while he was at it).

And they had given him the perfect opportunity to do so.

Besides. Even without all that, Starscream liked the sound of armor. He was slim for aerodynamics and flight superiority. But it left him exposed. It left him vulnerable to Megatron's unhappy moods or hypocritical autobots.

With this-this-Apex armor...

He would never be hurt again.

Knock Out had been listening to these two go at it for the last breem.

"When were you ever behind enemy lines?"

«I wasn't always a bot sitter.»

He hadn't decided if it was amusing to overhear or if he was annoyed they weren't paying attention to him.

"Next you're going to tell me you mother doesn't tuck you in at night."

«Not since basic training.»

At least the three of them were having fun.

As much as they could when Tox-En was affecting them both.

It seemed like every step took ten times harder than it should have been. When they were driving, both their engines strained.

«I was an army ranger. We could wreck with the best of them.»

Knock Out snorted. That seemed a bit hard to believe.

Another set of rocks clattered against his undercarriage. Wheels tore on the igneous ground. Lagging behind, Bulkhead's altmode strained up the same hill.

Normally the SUV would have an advantage over a sports car on this type of terrain. But Bulkhead was the one carrying the Tox-En.

...What? Knock Out wasn't about to hold that stuff!

Besides, he was a smaller frame. The poison would affect him faster if he was holding it.

The wrecker stopped. Engine sputtered and stalled.

"I-...I just...need to rest for a minute," he mumbled.

The medic transformed. He was standing above the hillside.

"Not a good idea," Knock Out replied.

No response.

«I know it's tough, but I need you to stay the course» Fowler said.

Still no reply.

«Bulkhead. Bulkhead!»

For some reason, Knock Out felt a sudden spike of panic. He slid down the hill to inspect the wrecker.

"...uh..Uh-I'm here ranger..." Bulkhead said and the panic alleviated. If the wrecker were to die while alone with the autobot hopeful on probation...

A sigh filtered over the comm line. «You had me worried, two ton.»

The wrecker groaned.

"I...I can't-"

Now there was evident panic in the human's voice.

«I don't want to hear that kind of talk, especially from the likes of you. We know you've gone through worse.»

This felt like a momentous occasion of a sorts-

The fall of a titan in a human's eyes.

They weren't invincible after all.

Knock Out thought of Breakdown's corpse, paraded around by a human. He thought of the mounds of dead on Velicitron.

No, they certainly weren't.

"Not...not worse...than-"

Alright, that was enough. The medic leaned over the SUV and tore the Tox-En from the cables it was strapped to.

"My turn!" he smiled down at the wrecker with false enthusiasm. The worry over how dangerous the toxic material would be if so close to him felt too high; panic would arrive if he didn't treat this as if he was amused.

With the same cocky confidence, Knock Out spun around and started his treck on pede up the hillside.

His 'rescue' of the wrecker didn't last long. The speedster was only two thirds further from where he had picked the Tox-En up before he fell.

Ohh. This stuff was potent.

Optic vision was down 30%. The ground was fuzzy and blurry; it reminded Knock Out of the human pepper spray incident.

Inside, his tanks roiled.

A loud voice came somewhere behind him. The medic felt sure he recognized it. And then a large servo dropped on his shoulder and another came down in front of him palm up.

Breakdown!

No, wait-

They were the wrong color and build.

Oh right- Bulkhead! Were they on Cybertron again? Did their excursion to the sea of rust expose them to some sort of toxen?...

"-t up. Can you get up?"

He grunted and tried. Below his chassis, the Tox-En lay on the rock where he had dropped it; an action necessary when he needed both servos free to catch his fall on the ground.

The sight of the green stuff reminded him where he was.

"Y-e-ah-" he stuttered out and tried to grab Bulkhead's offered servo. It engulfed his own, just like any bot Breakdown's size would.

«Do you two need help?» Fowler asked with concern. Knock Out heard the wrecker laugh above him.

"Not...not much you can do..." the green mech replied. "'cept moral support..."

Speaking of support- Knock Out found himself pulled up off the ground and crashed into Bulkhead. The wrecker's voice was soft with worry: "Do you...need...Can I..."

Thinking he knew what the wrecker meant, the medic nodded.

"Knock y-yourself o-ut," he replied with irritating weakness.

Nausea swirling in both of them and systems continuing to crawl down, the two of them pulled each other up the remaining distance of the shield volcano. Sometimes Knock Out was the one tugging them along while the wrecker held the stuff. Sometimes Bulkhead was practically carrying the medic while the red mech cradled the toxic energon.

In this manner, they finally reached the mouth of the volcano. Vents heaving, Bulkhead looked over into the molten rocks.

"You...you wanna...do the honors?"

In answer, Knock Out flung the stupid stuff away from his scratched chassis and watched it drop down. The Tox-En clattered on rock below and slowly began to melt in the heat. Both cybertronians turned away from the sight.

"Fowler..." Bulkhead said slowly. "Mission accomplished. But...you may...have...to-"

The big guy dropped to his knees and Knock Out fell with him.

"...tuck...us..."

Ahead of them, the green brightness of a groundbridge flared into being.

"...in."

Maybe if he was a different bot, one whose head focused more on the happenings of the world rather than just those happening around him, and maybe if he hadn't been dizzy from the Tox-En exposure-

perhaps then Knock Out would have wondered why the vehicon had never returned with friends.

The helicopters moved as soon as the green glow faded away. Even higher above the vehicles, an insecticon hovered.

A good distance away, a femme lounged on a rock throne and watched through the insecticon's optics.

Around her, other servants of the hive waited for any commands their queen would issue. At the moment, she wasn't interested in issuing commands. Her attention had been caught by the sight this scout was observing.

"Hmm," she drew one claw over her lip as she watched. It traced back and drew across again, always too feathery to cut through the soft metal. "You were right to bring my attention here."

Cables dropped from the hovering helicopters and lowered down into the volcano mouth. The clamps attached were crushing something sickly green when the cables began to rise up again. Airachnid leaned forward in interest.

"Track those humans," she ordered. Her insecticon followed the human vehicles when they began to move away.

So many of them too. In their cars and helicopters, carrying their toxic prize and purple prisoners.

What fun this looked like.

What fun indeed.