Knock Out tries to give Miko a helping hand-er, servo. Arcee, in turn, tries to give him help.
Optimus returns from some time away with big news.
As it turned out, Ratchet had access to more human miscellania than he probably wanted to admit. For someone who apparently knew so little of Earth that he'd botched all three kid's science experiments, the old medic still had all sorts of trinkets in his drawers.
Knock Out only knew this because as the assistant medic he'd been forced to deal with Ratchet's cluttered workspace. This for him had meant peeking into every cabinet and even trying to arrange things into a more sane order (an act of goodness that only got him the senior medic's ire; see if he ever helped him again).
For some random unknown reason, Ratchet had paint cans. Teeny, tiny little canisters that could easily bust with just a squeeze. Knock Out had confiscated them and then convinced Jack to get him some other supplies.
He had a plan and he didn't want to go back on it. Even if the execution of said plan was a little trickier than he'd have liked.
All of which was why he now had two little makeshift desks made of crates sitting on either side of his legs while he himself sat on the side of the berth.
And on his lap was the canvas. Human sized for a human recipient.
This really should be easier than it was.
Scrap, this human paintbrush was hard to hold. He was a surgeon, for crying out loud, delicate servo work shouldn't be this hard-
He took a closer look.
Oh. Well, he could thank his surgeon servos. It wasn't turning out half bad.
Someone rapped on the wall outside the door and then walked in. Knock Out glanced up from his masterpiece's canvas and saw Arcee.
"Whatcha up to?" the two-wheeler asked.
He let the servo not currently holding the human sized paintbrush gesture at his work.
"Just making a little something," he replied casually.
Forced casual airs for something that could really well be far from truly light.
"Did you ever see those little paintings Miko and Bulkhead made for Breakdown and I?"
She glanced at where the colorful plates were sitting; currently they were on top of his stack of old datapads from the probation period.
"I saw them making them," Arcee answered with a shrug, "Never got to see the finished product though. Why?"
It wouldn't hurt to say. After all, the human kid's story got out this morning anyways.
They'd all reconvened except Optimus. According to Ratchet, he'd gone on a energon search to clear his mind. No one wanted him gone so soon after yesterday, but no one would say no to more energon. The team contained nine cybertronians at this point and they all strained at the energon reserves.
The humans had slept far through the day and then returned to base later. Apparently, Raf was the only one to go to school; as such, he'd crashed to sleep on the couch as soon as Bumblebee had arrived back with him. The Darby's, with Arcee, bridged in rather than drove. And Miko drove in quietly with Bulkhead; the usual blaring metal music absent and atmosphere subdued.
There wasn't a victory we-beat-those-slagging-guys party this time around. No one had felt like doing anything like that.
Without Optimus there, the conversations had felt somewhat stilted. Ratchet was avoiding all attention. Without either of them present or willing to speak, the team seemed directionless. Easy to fall into negativity.
The cons had always been a negative environment. It was one of the inspiring characteristics of Optimus to bring positivity and hope to even the darkest of situations.
They'd tried to do a debriefing now that everyone was awake again. After all, the team had questions about what had happened lately. Knock Out would've asked them jours before, after the fight had finished, but he had 1) been hiding from Ratchet's wrath and Optimus's grave disappointment and 2) seen that the rest of the team was acting like it would be 'tactless' to ask June Darby what Airachnid was up to and so he'd kept quiet too.
Mainly the first reason though, he wasn't too ashamed to admit.
The human told her side of the story quickly, up until the point where Airachnid was making the hostage call. Her son decided to go off on Ratchet at that point.
It was somewhat amusing to see such a tiny little being so angry. Still, Knock Out had known that the situation was anything but as funny as a part of him thought it was.
"You made the right call, Ratchet," June had looked up at the medic, who was not returning her stare. "Airachnid is sick. She told stories to pass the time. I...would never have forgiven myself if I'd been the reason she got access to a weapon like Tox-En."
Breakdown had gone stiff besides him. His fists were clenched hard enough to creak.
Despite the compliment, Jack still frowned in Ratchet's direction and said nothing more to him. The interruption over with, his mother had kept going.
She'd talked about what little she saw of Airachnid's base (read: not much). She talked about what she'd thought she'd learned about the insecticon army (read: nothing useful, at least to Knock Out who rather despised the brutes where the woman sounded almost sympathetic towards them). She had started off on telling what stories Airachnid had told her- but the human couldn't seem to do it, Arcee had grown shellshocked, and Breakdown was grinding his fists together again. All things considered, it was probably good June didn't finish explaining what had happened to Tauii.
They'd briefly gone over the battle with M.E.C.H. (or lack thereof) and the insecticons.
"What I don't get-" Bulkhead had scratched at his head, looking like a bit of an idiot.
A loveable idiot, Knock Out had to admit. Although finding him talking uncomfortably with Breakdown while the medic was trying to deposit the sleeping Miko a few jours before made the speedster feel anything but love. So his partner thought his rival was more interesting than waiting around for Knock Out, did he? He'd done his best to clamp down on the jealousy and drop the teen off with her guardian.
Obviously he still remembered. He always was too good at holding grudges.
"-is why the con dropped his remote after managing to kill so many of them? There shouldn't have been so many bugs to have knocked it away from him after that."
In the pause that had followed, both Darby's looked at each other.
"...in actuality, he didn't do that," June had tried. "The three of us ran across it...and...I was the one who-"
Whatever lie she'd been trying to say was cut off by Miko.
"I did it."
It seemed the extra jours had given her time to calm down about it. She hadn't looked anywhere close to unraveling like she had before with him. While the others showered concern and unhappiness and asked if she was okay, Miko kept her expression controlled.
And glared up at him where he stood further from the crowd.
He hadn't much liked what that glare made him feel.
"She came to me earlier," Knock Out finally answered Arcee, absently dabbing another dot of red onto the canvas. "She wanted to talk about the whole mass killing thing. I figured I'd try to repay her for the little 'welcome to the team' paintings."
The femme didn't question why the teen would have gone to him or why he'd decide on such an odd gift.
"That's thoughtful."
He could've preened. Well, he did straighten up and let his shoulder pads flex out. He couldn't help himself.
Arcee crossed the distance and sat down next to him, looking over the gift.
Currently, it was human sized, almost fully drawn, and just needing a second coat of paint to keep it vibrantly alive. She evaluated it for a moment and the medic ceased painting so that she could get a good look.
"That's a picture of you," Arcee sounded bemused.
Knock Out lifted a brow. "Well, so it is."
"And you don't think maybe Miko doesn't just want a pin-up of you to hang in her room?"
Didn't sound so bad to him.
The other autobot was shaking her head and chuckling. One of her servos reached over his arms to grab at a tiny brush.
"She probably wants it to be her and Bulk," the two-wheeler said and let the brush slip into the little pink vial. "So here, let's just have you ad-"
Knock Out watched in horror as she messed with his surprise gift. 'Messed' was too kind a word. He was thinking more along the lines of 'ruined'. The audacity!
If anyone passed down that hall to grab a cube from energon storage, they'd have heard the two scuffling.
"You monster! Look what you've done!"
Another sound of scuffling, a spilling vial crashing to the concrete, and the slight rip of canvas.
"Drama queen. I'm making it better!"
Another ripping noise. Knock Out's angry curses when he realized trying to push Arcee away was scratching at his own paint. More swearing.
They ended up making a new picture after the first was ruined by how they fought over it. The new one portrayed Knock Out and Miko with their arms crossed staring pointedly away from each other even as their proximity was tellingly close.
All things considered, it was a better gift than the original.
Vince Raider didn't understand why fate had it out for him.
He was supposed to be the richest kid in this part of nowhere. The only one with parents rich enough to buy him all the toys he wanted. The only one set out to get his college paid all the way through so that he could get some degree that would let him keep up with his progenitor's salaries someday.
This stupid high school was just practice for the real world. A world where he could show off all his assets and be sent to the top of the totem pole through them alone.
It had been working for a good chunk of time. One of the only decent looking chicks here was really into vehicles. He scored her by way of street racing and showing off his sports cars. The other redhead dated him for a while and she was another one of his perks to show off to the rest of the school. Let 'em eat up the show and bask in their jealousy. Maybe that sort of attitude was why she broke it off. But he knew she was a spotlight seeker just as much as he was.
And then the least likely kid to ever make it big showed up with a motorcycle.
It was a nice looking ride, Vince had to admit.
But a part of him really had to question how Jack Darby of all losers managed to snag a sweet ride like that with his KO Burger's paycheck.
Though he didn't want to admit to this either, Vince had taken to watching Jack. Seeing him be a total flop of a guy helped make the redhead feel better about somehow getting shown up by him.
Jack had friends just as weird as he was. There was the little twelve year old. Kid was a know it all in every respect and yet he still went outside to play with his toy cars. It was hilarious in how pathetic it was.
Until the kid somehow upgraded from toy cars to a Urbana 500. How the hell had his parents afforded that muscle car?
And then there was the cringy exchange student who'd almost gotten kicked out of the school a good four times now. She rode around in some dumb green suv like it was cool to do so.
That was Vince's one savings grace. Sure, Jack Darby had a motorcycle and, more recently, some streamlined two seater, and the Esquivel family had enough money to afford that yellow ride, but at least the weird foreign kid didn't impend on Vince's territory (ie: the realm of over-expensive cars).
And then he walked out of the high school building, shaking his head in laughter about some insult Sierra had just yelled at him, and saw the girl stepping into a shiny red Aston Martin.
An Aston. Martin.
He just about broke the cell phone in his hand.
Obviously, fate was out to get him and any reputation he'd once had at this dumb town.
"Where's Bulkhead? Is he hurt? Why are you here?"
It was almost sad how ungrateful she was. Knock Out revved up his engine as a warning to get all the way in and started driving as soon as the teen's feet were both inside.
"The big guy is fine," he said over the radio, letting his irritation at being assaulted by so many suspicious questions seep through.
Miko slumped down into the passenger seat and crossed her arms.
"Oh yeah? Why are you here then?"
Neither bothered with seatbelts as Knock Out tore away from the school.
It was an odd feeling, really. He'd been there when Starscream had gotten the plan to steal the three kids to use as bargaining chips. After the war, he'd gotten to spend time in the new autobot base Unit:E had provided Ratchet and heard all about "The Days" when the bots used to go pick up the kids from school. It was surreal in its domesticity. It made him nostalgic for an experience he'd never had just from hearing the stories so often.
It was even more surreal to actually live out the experience for the first time.
"I asked if I could do the honors," Knock Out answered with equal amounts smarm and annoyance. Miko curled up her lip.
"Gross," she muttered at his tone before speaking loudly again. "What for?"
"Nothing, nothing," he lied.
They were shockingly quiet as he reached the edge of the town and tore off over the rural 'road'. Shocking, because neither were exactly known to be the quiet types.
On a different day, this probably would've been fun. By a given definition of 'fun'. Having a squishy sit inside him was not exactly the most pleasant of sensations.
They ended up settling on that as a conversation. Miko wanted to compare the feeling to wearing clothes or shoes; apparently, the feeling of material on skin ended up getting shoved aside by the human brain until it was no longer noticeable at all. Knock Out contended that his processor would never manage to ignore the feeling. They bickered thusly until they were driving under the outcropping and entering the base.
He went silent for a moment as they moved down the driveway. Judging by how she was fidgeting, Miko planned to escape the moment the car slowed enough.
"It wasn't nothing."
She glanced at the dash quizzically at his words. Funny how humans seemed to imagine his optics were in the dashboard or something. They were built to have two eyes and that was it; trying to understand beings with a different field of vision apparently wasn't worth the effort to the organics. Granted, he probably wouldn't bother either.
"I wanted to pick you up. I wanted to give you something."
Miko narrowed her gaze in suspicion that could very well have been staged for sarcasm. Didn't seem unusual for her.
"Back seat," he didn't wait for the sass to hit. "Right on the top."
The added direction prompted the teen forward. She crawled back and reached for the poster.
For a moment after sliding back into her seat, Miko just looked over the thing. Outside on the road, Knock Out's wheels turned while he sat motionless. Rather embarrassing for him to be this on the edge over hearing a squishy's reaction to his thoughtful gift.
"So, uh. What's this about?" she finally asked, not looking up from the picture.
"It's a very belated thank you for the one you gave me all that time ago. And it's for the other day. Hence the 'feel better soon' note on the bottom of it," he answered honestly.
For a minute, her hands clenched down on the canvas. Then they eased up. He took it as his cue to sidle forward, creeping closer and closer to the main room.
"Look," Knock Out would've been rolling his optics, had he been in rootmode. "Let's not avoid the fiasco. I'm touched, really, that you thought I was trustworthy enough to come spill your spar-er, heart to. Doesn't ignore the fact that I'm not the role model you should've gone after. But the two of us, we can both be on a learning curve when it comes to doing the right thing. Right? This whole team is here for us both whenever we need it."
There wasn't an immediate response. They slid out from the driveway into the main room before Miko did react next.
Then the teen punched his dash.
"Save the sappy speeches for Optimus," she mumbled with that usual sarcastic vocal edge.
Mission: success. Knock Out snorted out a laugh and popped the side door open for her. The kid scampered out and he transformed up to his pedes, instinctively brushing at his chestplates as if it could wipe away the feeling of having a passenger.
At the groundbridge controls, Ratchet glanced over one shoulder and met optics with him.
"Good. You're back." The older medic pointed at the medbay absently. "I want you to go over the simulations I wrote down on the main screen. Oh," he added in afterthought, "-regroup in here when Optimus comes back. He commed to say he has something important to talk with us all about."
That didn't sound ominous at all.
The last bit kept him from actually paying attention to any of the files Ratchet had wanted him to go over. In fact, he probably spent more time cleaning off his immaculate claws than he spent reading the older medic's written examples while he waited in suspense for the Prime to get back. There were a multitude of things the big guy could want to speak about and a good couple of them had to do with Smokescreen and his stunt two days earlier.
Knock Out had no desire to speak on that matter.
None at all.
Finally, after a half a jour of doing nothing but worry, the noise of a big rig driving in made him jump out of his thoughts. He slid out of the medbay to find Smokescreen and Wheeljack already waiting. The rest of the team trickled in by the time Optimus had transformed. The Prime looked over them all and then raised one arm to slide something off his back.
It wasn't a new cube of energon from his scouting.
It was the star saber; faint glowing lines being its only sign that it was still that same weapon that cleaved a mountain in half. Really, that moment had felt a whole lot more amazing and less worry-provoking when he was standing behind Optimus instead of sitting in the Nemesis's medbay while the whole ship shook.
"Optimus...What's the news Ratchet said we needed to hear?" Arcee spoke up first.
Instead of answering immediately, the Prime set the relic against the wall he stood by and left it there. The slight glow faded without his touch.
"I took the Iacon Relics to one of our vaults; there, I used the forge to repair the other relics," he started slowly, not quite looking at any of them.
It struck Knock Out that he seemed deep in thought. Almost like he had as he bid them all farewell at the edge of the well.
In other words, he was about to witness another magnanimous occasion. He wondered what it would be this time. Hopefully nothing as bad as the news delivered at the well of allsparks.
"Upon moving to leave, I took up the star saber again and received an ancient message."
Only Ratchet failed to look surprised. It seemed evident he had been told that much at least.
"Wha-from who?" Bumblebee whirred in shock. Or as much shock as primal vernacular could exhibit at least.
"A message from Alpha Trion."
Well, that name meant very little to him.
"It is paramount that we recover the final four Iacon relics: the omega keys."
That did mean something to him. Not that it should have, without his extra lifetime's knowledge.
The others didn't recognize the name. They asked what the keys were; and to what locks they were intended.
"Keys? To what?"
He bit down on his lip to keep himself from answering before Optimus; but Knock Out knew what his response would entail long before the Prime said the words-
"The regeneration of our home world."
And this time? This time Cybertron wasn't going to become the post-war anti-Team Prime mess it had in his last life. This time, it would have Optimus around to keep the populace inspired. Surely, that would do the trick.
Or so Knock Out hoped at least.
AN- Having Vince's last name be Raider is a shoutout to his voice actor's last name.
