Hi there, everyone. Happy New Year! Sorry for the delay... My life wanted me back. Plus, I kind of lost my drive to write for a while.

Kassi1989: hi! Thanks for reading this story! I'm sorry you had to wait this long.

Warning: English isn't my mother language, so there may be some grammar mistakes.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Transformers franchise, nor its characters. It is a registered trademark of Hasbro.

-TEN-

SCRAP, SCRAP AND MORE SCRAP!

Wheeljack was currently helping with the rebuilding of the planet; or, better said, the city ―they still didn't have enough personnel as to go anywhere other than Iacon at the moment. At least, his mega-cycles of civilian, as a mechanic, were coming in handy now; whenever a piece of equipment broke, he was the first bot called to repair it. Good thing nobody, except his best buddy Bulkhead, knew of his-… less than flattering reputation, which stated that half the things he fixed tended to end up in an epic fail, one way or another. "Not to mention how I lost my job at Crystal City" thought the Wrecker, only to quickly shake his head as if attempting to shoo the idea. Though, it was too late already… The episode in which the equipment he was attempting to repair after a malfunction, almost magically overloaded and, thus, opened a nice hole on the wall was greatly remembered for vorns afterwards… He still couldn't understand how Perceptor didn't bring it up when they met again at the Wreckers. After all, he was the guy who was standing on the other side of said wall…

With a sigh, suddenly feeling depressed of remembering yet another of his old teammates, the white mech finished repairing the wiring of the industrial drill he was working on, and decided to go find his best friend. Talking with Bulk always helped in these cases. However, this time, it seemed like he would've to be the bot doing the listening; after all, when he found the laborer, the guy was sitting on one of the boxes, staring at the city's outskirt. Not the first time Wheeljack has surprised his friend like this… He knew, thus, what was going on within Bulkhead's processor; he was feeling nostalgic. He was missing Miko…

Sighing, the white mech walked up to the other Wrecker, and patted him on the shoulder. Thus making the green bot turn his way, and chuckle, quickly recognizing the newcomer, and inviting him to take a seat too. The former mechanic refused.

"So, why so down in the dumps, Bulk?" He asked, crossing his arms and offering a smirk.

The bulkier mech sighed tiredly.

"I just realized today was Miko's birthday" admitted the laborer, staring at the scenery in front of him. The sunset always made their planet look beautiful ―shame there were yet too many ruins, as to actually enjoy the view.

Beside him, Wheeljack had a start at these news. Today? Miko's anniversary of creation was today? Then, he let his arms fall flat against his sides, as he sighed and went to sit down next to his companion; a sudden pang of pain had entered his spark, unable to do anything other than wonder how that kid was… They hadn't received any new messages from her in a while. "Wonder what she's doing right now…" found himself thinking Wheeljack.

Taking another look of his friend, he decided to stop his own melancholy party, and actually try to get them both out of the depression.

"I'm sure she's fine, Bulk" stated the white Wrecker, putting up his best smirk. "She's probably partying around with some friends. You'll see. The pics will be on our mailbox within a few days, for sure." He said, remembering the cascade of unrequested photographs they usually received from their human partner ―the last one was a selfie from the Tower of Tokyo, with the writing 'you can see my house from here!', and a pink arrow pointing at the exact roof.

But, then again, that was like two weeks ago…

Bulkhead sighed again, realizing that Wheeljack ignored that Miko wasn't as tough as she made it look most the time… What if she was feeling lonely? What if she started to believe that he would never return? Or worse, what if she started thinking that he forgot her? They spent so much time together that they became a family; he couldn't just leave that behind him! Scrap! Not even Ratchet could, and he used to be the happiest one whenever anyone said anything about coming back to Cybertron! Now, the doc was the only one who remained on Earth…

The Wrecker couldn't help but want his partner back. However, with the new policies about space-bridging, it was almost impossible to go pay a visit to a foreign planet…

A honk made both mechs turn towards the road, as two shiny paintjobs approached their position; two muscle, Earth-based, cars. The first one was a bright yellow Camaro that earned big smiles, and made them jump to their feet. Soon enough, the newcomer transformed and, laughing, went to share a friendly hug with the other two warriors; meanwhile the second bot, the red former Decepticon, decided to wait a few steps away… Just in case. He was yet wary around Autobots ―especially these two, since they helped locking him up.

"It's great to see you, guys!" The yellow mech commented, pulling away from his friends.

"It's good to see you too, 'Bee!" answered Bulkhead, chuckling.

"Yeah… Don't call, don't write… We were starting to feel ignored here, you know?" mocked the other Wrecker, crossing his arms and cocking his hip, smirk on place. Then, his optics tracked down the surgeon. "What's up, Wheels? How's it going?" He greeted with a wink.

The medic immediately tensed, but, then relaxed and narrowed his optics.

"Don't call me 'Wheels'…" hissed the Velocitronian, enticing a loud chortle from the Wrecker.

Bumblebee smiled at this exchange, before calling the attention again, stating that they had lots of things to discuss.

At the Sea of Rust, a purple and black aircraft was making a surveillance. Not too long ago, he located a faint signal of an old acquaintance of his; and, though it was almost impossible for someone to survive in that wasteland, he settled course towards the beacon's source, hoping to find something ―anything. Even if it was just a small clue as of where to start looking…

Finally, after flying for over four hours, and enduring the rust's storms, his scanners picked a faint track of Energon. It could mean that who he was searching has passed, since he shouldn't be receiving this signal otherwise; but, after knowing him for so long… He knew the guy had a knack at receiving large wounds, and, yet, survive them somehow.

Descending, the aircraft transformed into a purple and black Seeker; and, once he was standing on his own legs, the bot took out his weapons… Just in case.

The signal indicated Energon, but he couldn't see any trace of it. "Strange… My scanners never failed before. Maybe…" As he lowered his eyes to check again, he saw what he was looking for: a dried stain of vital fuel on the ground. Someone passed through that spot, and, by the looks of it, whoever it was, they were injured. Now with a track to follow, the Seeker started to walk away from his landing spot.

It took him two hours of wandering around in the depths of the Sea of Rust, but he finally found him. The bot's silver armor glowed in the distance; the guy was lying on the ground, and seemed to be unconscious. Was he-…? No, he couldn't be… Fortunately, as the flyer ran towards the figure, a soft groan indicated that he was still alive. Good.

"I found you, sir…" He commented, slightly satisfied, before turning on his com-link. "I'm coming back… I've got him."

That said, he disappeared into a green flash of light.

By nightfall, Bumblebee and Knock Out were on their way back to the apartment, after talking about the warrior's crazy idea of returning to Earth to each one of his former teammates. Why he couldn't just do it over a call, was beyond the Velocitronian's understanding. All he knew was that his ward had decided for them to parade all around the city, in order to talk to the others in person ―they even went into the Elite Guard's Academy, looking for Smokescreen, who was now a trainer there.

As expected, the whole team accepted… None of them could wait to see their human friends again.

However, while the yellow bot was singing in happiness, the medic wasn't pleased at all about this plan. Go back to that planet, which was located at the other end of the universe? What for? Sure, his head had a price on Cybertron, and probably in the colonies too; but Earth wasn't different! After all, he was a Decepticon, he put the Autobot's allies in danger plenty times, and he was more than sure that none of them forgot, nor forgave, his previous behavior. What assured him that those creatures won't try to obliterate him as soon as he walked out of the space-bridge?

On the other hand, was he truly against going back there, or was it his pride talking? After all, a part of him knew that, at least, the major part of the human population didn't know about his existence, so he should be safer there… And yet, he didn't feel like it. "The only good thing that happened to me on Earth was Millie; and there's not a chance for me to suddenly reveal I have a human friend" thought the medic, making his mind over the matter.

Both, the yellow mech and his warded, were almost back to the enforcer's apartment when it happened again.

Lost in these thoughts, the Velocitronian completely forgot the fact that he was outside, and, therefore, in danger of being recognized; as such, he was caught off-guard by a pair of headlights.

Next thing he knew, someone had collided straight onto his side, making him tumble a couple feet, before finally coming to a halt.

"What the-…?! Knock Out!" cried Bumblebee, seeing the crash through his rearview; and, thus, quickly screeching to full stop and making a U-turn, just as the other bot prepared to run away. "Here officer Bumblebee of Iacon, requesting backup at my current position! Suspect's attempting to scatter!" He informed via the com-link, while transforming, and deploying his blasters. The other guy was already speeding away, but not even nearly enough: one shot from the former scout, and the left back tire popped, making the bot crash against a lamppost. "Never mind… You'll find the guy at the klik marker, south of my position. Send medics." He added, before going to check on the former Decepticon. "Knock Out? You ok?"

However, no answer came… Also the surgeon had not even attempted to switch forms, thus he was yet in vehicular, lying on his side.

Now alarmed, the yellow mech was quick to put his companion with his four tires on the ground; yet, no signs of life.

"Ok, you're scaring me now" said the former scout, noticing the other mech's form fell limp on his wheels. "Hey! Wake up!" He shook the guy, without results.

Fortunately for him, the sirens of the medics became hearable in the distance.

… … …

"Hey! You ok?"

Knock Out felt his optics slowly refocus on the soldier he was putting back together once again, just as Breakdown managed to catch him, right when he started to collapse to his side. Only then did the Velocitronian notice that his system nearly fell into emergency shutdown.

"I'm alright… Thanks…" He assured his friend, while going back to weld the leg from warrior he currently had on the slab, back into place.

"You sure?" questioned the blue mech, arching an optic-ridge. "When was the last time you recharged?"

The surgeon dedicated his companion a long, confused ―and tired― look, which earned him a sigh in disappointment from Breakdown, who immediately understood: he couldn't remember… In fact, Knock Out had reached the point in which he was not even sure if he had slept, at all, during that past week. The only memories his processor was bringing up were cascades of soldiers and Neutrals in need of repair, but nothing else. He could not eve recall when he refueled last.

"You can't keep going like this, doc…" The laborer lectured, letting out a long vent, while shaking his head. "You gotta rest at some point."

"Whenever I find an opening, I will" promised the Velocitronian, finishing the patch-up. "Go find a nurse to wake this guy up, I have to check if anyone else needs immediate attention, ok?" He requested, putting away his tools.

"Sure. But if nobody's needing a life-saving procedure, you find a nice, comfy corner and get some recharge. Got it?"

"Understood, carrier…" chuckled the medic, rolling his optics. Only to find himself dodging a slap from the bigger mech. "Nice try, Big Lug." He chimed, smirking.

Breakdown smirked, and walked away promising that, one of these days, he would get him; only to be reminded that Velocitronians had enhanced reflexes, so the red mech wasn't at all worried about it. Then, the blue bot finally left the makeshift consulting room, looking for a real nurse ―after all, he was merely a Neutral lending a hand to Knock Out whenever he needed to move patients who were either heavier or bigger than himself.

Once alone, the red bot rubbed his optics in a sad attempt to stay conscious, before stepping out of the room too.

He was attending patients at a triage, near the Tetrahex Plateu; the war had, now, been raging the planet for vorns. Entire cities had fallen ―including Breakdown's―, the space-bridges were destroyed, and the Decepticons had a barricade over the planet, reason why any spaceship that didn't belong to them had to immediately return to the surface, or face a nearly impossible-to-win battle… Many Neutrals, however, had abandoned Cybertron. Others, like himself, took refuge on Iacon. For a while now, the capital had become the Autobots' stronghold, just as Kaon was the Decepticons'. Neutrals, such as Knock Out, had to stay clear from Kaon… Megatron's men called unaligned bots 'target practice'.

At the crammed, and overpopulated facility, medical personnel, helpers and patients tended to mix in a chaos like he has never seen before. There was so many people there that it was hard to walk around; however, the fact that he lacked any faction's shield, always seemed to call the attention ―more than one Autobot who ended at his care asked why he didn't flee the planet, or joined them; the answer was always the same: for the first part, Cybertron was his home, and, for the second, he didn't believe in either group.

Checking the nearby rooms, Knock Out glanced outside from a window. "There'll be a wave of injured tonight" thought the doctor with a sigh, seeing the flashes of blasters and explosions in the distance. He got the same view the night before, and, since then, they've been tending to incoming patients, moving from one to the other without rest. As soon as they were done repairing someone, they had to begin with someone else… And, as such, he hadn't have the chance to rest in a while, now… The only thing that kept him moving was his willpower, and the constant reminder that, at least, he was helping someone.

Taking another look around, he finally decided that, maybe, he could take a quick nap…

"Medic! We need a medic, please!"

Or not.

The desperate scream made him turn towards the entrance, where two jets ―twins, judging by the looks― were supporting a third bot, a femme of crimson and golden armor. He didn't need to get close to them to tell what the matter was; he could see the gash, and the leak from where he was standing.

He made his mind in a split second.

"I'm a medic! Come this way!" He called them, raising a servo so the two warriors could spot him.

Immediately, they were dragging their friend to the empty room, and placing her on the surgery table. Meanwhile, Knock Out was in override, ransacking the place, looking for the needed tools, and yelling at the nurses to bring him the equipment he lacked; then, he grabbed a scanner to assess the damage, and placed himself next to his new patient. The femme was covered, head to toe, in scars of all size and type, some older than others; not to mention the dirt that had made a thick layer all over her frame. The two flyers who brought her in weren't in much better shape, so he could guess they were in the middle of the battlefield when this happened, and decided to evacuate their comrade.

"How bad is it?" asked one of the jets, obviously worried, as he attempted to spy on the scan's results. His armor was pitch black, and had a red tattoo on his left wing; one that resembled to concentric circles, but were actually an inscription in Vos' dialect.

"If I don't close this gap, now, she's not leaving the table at all" cursed the surgeon, practically tossing away the scanner as he brought out the first welder he found. It wasn't the model he required ―not by a longshot―, but it would've to suffice until the nurse brought the equipment he requested.

"But-… You can save her, right?" questioned the other flyer, who was sky-blue, and had the same red tattoo on his right wing.

"If you want to help me, and her, then go check if the nurse's anywhere near! I need the precision welder, two stasis-lock gas tubes, and the transfusion machine!" Knock Out barked at the twins, who nodded and ran outside to call for those things. "I already lost one this morning, so, please, stay with me, ok?" He, then, begged to his unconscious patient.

His only answer were the twinkling bio-lights on her sides.

… … …

Opening his optics, Knock Out came to notice that now he was the one attached to the medical equipment around him; lying on a stretcher, at some clinic ―not the triage from his memories. However, it took his processor a minute to recall the accident, thus putting all the pieces together, and realizing that he must've passed out, and that Bumblebee must've brought him here. "I wonder how bad-… Ugh!" He thought, and hissed in pain, because as soon as he attempted to move a sharp, stabbing ache on his side forced him to desist and lie down once more.

"How're you feeling?" A young voice asked. He recognized it to be Bumblebee, but turned his head all the same, thus finding the youngling sitting on a chair a few steps away.

"Like scrap…" Knock Out answered, finding it hard to focus to talk. He knew those were the temporary side-effects of the stasis-lock gas, so he guessed that he had been under for a while. "Did you see the plates?" He attempted to joke, earning a smile from the former scout, who got up and walked to his side.

"Even better: I got him." Bumblebee informed. "Ultra Magnus and Prowl are dealing with him, as we speak. He won't be driving around for a long, long while." He assured, crossing his arms.

"Huh" scoffed the medic, staring at the white, monochromatic, ceiling, not at all sure how he felt about that. "You know, Earth is starting to look like a very nice vacational place, right now…" He added, narrowing his optics with tiredness and defeat, while barely raising a servo as to point something.

Chuckling, Bumblebee told the former 'Con to rest. They would take care of their visas and passports later, once the medic was off the clinic. Before he finished his sentence, Knock Out was already in recharge again.

Away from there, the same Seeker from before was returning from another robbery. As he landed, carrying the Energon package, the bot hissed, remembering that he had to accept that guy's help. He always disliked him ―a common feeling among the troops. It was hard to actually trust someone like him, especially because it was evident that, the only reason why, he broke him free was due to his ability. He needed him for something. What exactly, he had no clue whatsoever; in better circumstances, he would've fled already, but, right now, his options were worse than limited. Much to his own dislike, he had to accept the offer…

Not that he was planning to be this mech's servant forever. This was merely a temporary situation. Plus, he was waiting for the scientist to locate his other missing companion… Things would become easier once they were all together again. Or so he hoped.

Once he dropped the Energon in the cargo bay, the Seeker went to check on the bot he rescued from the Sea of Rust.

He was still unconscious. When he found him, the mech had lost so much Energon that he fell into stasis. Yet, it wasn't that what worried him, but the physical state in which he found him: his whole body was a wreck, and there were no warranties of saving him; but he wouldn't give up just yet.

He has survived worse things, and this time wouldn't be an exception.

But, for now, all he could do was follow orders… And hope…

That's all for now; hope you liked it.

Let me know your thoughts.

See ya.