Author's Notes: This is just a short chapter, but it contains everything I meant for it to. It's just some drama mixed with some fluff. I really like writing this story. PR-35 is such a fun character to write, the other characters add depth to the story, and I get to take on the challenge of writing a decent AU fic for Transformers Prime! Thank you to everyone who is supporting this story by reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! You guys are awesome :)

Chapter 6

Brothers

Breakdown sat on a berth in the medbay while Knockout repaired him. The fight he had with Bulkhead had been a bad one, and if it wasn't for PR-35 he was sure he would've died. As it was he still had dents and leaks in places he forgot existed, and he was a medical assistant!

Knockout quipped a few one-liners and complained about the lack of proper supplies as he worked. It was a comfort for Breakdown to hear Knockout's grumbling because it reassured him that he was, in fact, safe on the Nemesis and not still in battle. Sometimes Breakdown would stay in battle mode long after the fighting ended, but hearing his best friend's voice usually kept him grounded in reality.

"You've got to stop picking fights with that bloated green lugnut," Knockout chided his assistant, "One of these days that charge-first-ask-questions-later attitude is going to get you killed."

"Hey, I could've taken him if it weren't for losing my slagging eye!" Breakdown groused, "I hate this! How did Shockwave deal with the lack of depth perception for all those vorns? Those humans are monsters, and I can't wait to step on each and every one of the fraggers that did this to me."

"You'll get your chance," Knockout reassured him, "That was over a month ago, by the way. Why is it suddenly bothering you now?"

"Because Bulkhead almost got me," Breakdown growled, "I would've tossed him around a bit to get even with him, but I was worried he might attack PR-35."

"P what?" Knockout asked derisively, "Breakdown, I've told you before, the drones aren't alive. They're just play puppets at Megatron's disposal. You shouldn't put a piece of equipment's welfare above the completion of your mission. You could've killed Bulkhead and been declared a hero, but instead you sacrificed your victory for the sake of a drone."

"Would you really be okay with that?" Breakdown asked pointedly, "I mean, let's say I came in here carrying Bulkhead's broken down corpse and said I was keeping it for a trophy. Would you be okay with that?"

Knockout harrumphed and turned away. To most it would be a rude dismissal, but to Breakdown it was an admission of vulnerability. For all of Knockout's talk about how he loved torturing Autobots for Megatron, at spark Knockout was still a medic, and life was still important to him. Breakdown was the only one who knew about Knockout's weakness, and he wouldn't betray his friend by exposing it for anything.

"They are real, you know," Breakdown said; changing the subject once again, "The Vehicons have sparks just like we do. Just because they're built in a lab instead of by the Allspark or a bonded pair doesn't mean they aren't real."

"Those are artificial sparks," Knockout insisted, "They hold energy, but they are not of the same devine build as we are. Vehicons are programmed by Megatron to serve him. They have no free will. They are merely androids, and no matter how advanced they may seem they are not real Cybertronians."

"But they talk to me," Breakdown replied in a muted tone of voice, "They have their own opinions. They have their own views on life and duty. Some are lazy, some are funny, and some are psychotic. Each one is different. Doesn't that make them real?"

"They talk to you?" Knockout asked; concerned, "Tell me Breakdown, have they told you to do anything bad? Are you able to touch them?"

"Knockout, I am not hallucinating again!" Breakdown barked; affronted, "I'm not going crazy! They really do talk to me! They talk to each other too! Just ask one of them a personal question. You'll see I'm right!"

Knockout wasn't the only ones who kept secrets from the other Decepticons. Before Breakdown and Knockout were friends, Breakdown had a processor malfunction that humans would describe as akin to schizophrenia. Knockout spent vorns treating Breakdown with mind calming techniques, experimental medication, and even surgery on his processor. Breakdown had been fine for a while at this point, but Knockout always worried his friend would spiral into paranoia once again.

"Breakdown...I recommend you stay overnight in the medbay," Knockout finally said when he couldn't figure out what he really wanted to say, "That way you can get some recharge without Megatron or Airachnid venting down your neck cables."

"Yeah, thanks," Breakdown replied awkwardly, "Listen, Knockout...when I picked that fight with Bulkhead...I know I should've called for backup, but I just really wanted to let off some steam. Today's, you know...the day Wildrider..."

"I know," Knockout replied softly as he placed a comforting servo on Breakdown's arm, "I've often wondered if our brothers would've gotten along. Somehow I doubt it. It seems like you and I were the only ones in both families with any sort of social graces."

"Yeah," Breakdown chuckled, but his laughter held no mirth, "One thing that makes me feel better is that Dead End was probably happy when he died. He always liked death, and he used to write elaborate fantasies about how he would die. I remember one involved being poisoned by a bondmate so she could sell their house and get custody of the pets."

"That's disturbing," Knockout commented, "Oh, well. May our brothers' sparks be one with the Allspark."

"Yeah...I hope you can't get kicked out of the Allspark," Breakdown suddenly said, "I'm pretty sure Motormaster and Wildrider would probably get kicked out if they could be. Drag Strip would probably try to kick other sparks out. You would've liked Drag Strip. He liked to race, too..."

Breakdown was already starting to shut down due to exhaustion and system recovery. He lied back on the berth, and Knockout dimmed the lights so Breakdown could recharge in peace. Before he left for his own room, Knockout took one last look at his best friend and hoped the poor slagger wasn't losing his mind again.

PR-35 was so tired. Not only did he have to stay up all day, but he also got the night shift and had to patrol the halls. He never really liked the night shift because everything was too quiet. If he talked to himself then he risked waking someone up. If he didn't talk to himself he went crazy from all the quiet.

He held his arm cannon up with his hand because it made him look alert, but in reality he was close to falling into recharge while walking! The stress of the day just made him even more tired now. He still couldn't believe he shot Bulkhead! For once he was glad Autobots couldn't tell one Vehicon from another, or else he'd be in serious trouble.

He was suddenly jolted fully online when he heard an audio-piercing scream coming from somewhere close by! PR-35 feared it was an intruder, but he was the one designated to protect this sector of the ship, so he charged ahead and hoped for the best.

The closer he got, the more PR-35 realized the screaming was coming from the medbay. Now the Vehicon was conflicted. That screaming could be a patient suffering difficulties, a potential traitor being interrogated, or someone who was in trouble. He knew he probably shouldn't go in there for fear of Knockout's wrath, but something told him he needed to investigate.

He cautiously entered the room and looked around for the source of the screaming. The first thing PR-35 noticed was that Knockout wasn't there. The second thing he noticed was Breakdown lying on a berth offline. The third thing he noticed was Breakdown was the one screaming. He was having a nightmare.

"Sir? Sir, please wake up!" PR-35 exclaimed as he pushed on Breakdown's shoulder guard, "Sir, online! It's only a dream."

Breakdown let out one last scream as he jolted upright and looked around to see where he was. He finally saw the walls of the medbay, and a Vehicon looking at him worriedly with his long red visor.

"Which one are you?" Breakdown asked; his chassis rising and falling from the difficulty of venting air.

"I'm PR-35, sir," PR-35 replied, "I'm sorry I disturbed you, but I know bad dreams can be difficult to escape on your own."

"Yeah, they can," Breakdown nodded; still looking around the room for any unseen threat, "I was dreaming about the humans. You know...the ones that tried to scrap me for parts."

"Oh," PR-35 whispered in understanding, "That must have been awful. You know sir, I told the others ever since we got here that humans are dangerous and have powers, but no one believed me. If they had just told you then this never would've happened. I wish I could find some way to make the humans go away for you."

"No, only I can do that," Breakdown said resolutely, "Someday I will make them pay for what they did to me."

PR-35 went over to where Knockout kept a supply of energon in the cabinets. He took a cube and offered it to Breakdown, who gratefully accepted.

"In my dream…" Breakdown started hesitantly, but finally he said, "In my dream, Sylas and the other humans weren't dissecting me. They had captured my brothers and were tearing them apart. They forced me to watch. It was horrible…"

"Your brothers?" PR-35 asked curiously.

"Yeah, I had four brothers," Breakdown explained, "They all died over the course of the war, but we lived in Tyger Pax together when we were sparklings. The war broke out when I was still young. Our parents were killed pretty early on, and my oldest brother Motormaster raised the rest of us. I was the fourth built out of five. The youngest was Wildrider. Motormaster wasn't always a good guardian, actually. Me and Wildrider both had mental problems when we were little, and Motormaster used to think he could beat us until we were normal and that would fix everything. I know I should be angry at him for that, but he didn't know any better. He was still a youngling himself when our parents died. He didn't know how to raise four sparklings."

"Wow, you had four brothers?" PR-35 asked in awe, "I wish I had a brother. I have a dream brother, but I don't think it counts."

"You have a what?" Breakdown asked; confused.

"Well...recently, I've had dreams where I have a brother," PR-35 replied uncertainly, "He's a black and white mech. In the dreams he's so real and I've known him my entire life, but when I wake up I forget him. I don't know his designation, but in the dream he's not a Vehicon. He's a mech. Sometimes I envy real mechs like you. I wish I had a family, a home, and a spark. I guess I should just be grateful I have a purpose and a weapon to protect myself. I'm sorry."

"PR-35, you do have a spark," Breakdown informed him, "It's artificial, but I think it counts just as much as mine. Knockout doesn't think so, but I disagree."

"I have a spark?" PR-35 asked just to make sure he heard that right.

"Yeah, hop on the operating table and I'll show you," Breakdown said cheerfully as he stood up.

PR-35 didn't like the idea of being opened up for exploratory surgery, but he never disobeyed orders from his superiors. Besides that, he had come to trust Breakdown more than he had any other officer in his life. He knew the big guy wouldn't hurt him, so he allowed his arms to be pinned to the berth by the energy restraints, and didn't complain when the big light shone in his visor.

Breakdown entered a code that allowed him to open the chassis and then parted a few sets of wires with his hands. It felt funny, but Breakdown had turned off the pain receptors so it didn't hurt. Breakdown then pulled a mirror out from under the berth and held it up to PR-35.

PR-35 couldn't believe his visor! There it was, bright and beautiful, a pale blue light pulsating in his body! It was his spark! PR-35 had a spark!

"It's...it's beautiful…" PR-35 gasped in mute shock. He felt like he would've cried if he were capable of doing so in that moment.

"You really didn't know?" Breakdown asked; feeling pity for the poor Vehicon.

"I've never been injured seriously enough to have my inner chassis repaired and yet conscious enough to notice," PR-35 pointed out, "If I got injured there, I would be sedated for the surgery."

"Your spark was made in a lab just like the rest of your body," Breakdown explained, "To most mechs that means you're not alive, but I think you are. I think you and the other Vehicons are just as alive as I am."

"Wow...Thank you Breakdown. I'll never forget this," PR-35 replied sincerely, "You really are my best friend," Then, as an afterthought, PR-35 added, "Just don't tell TGP-538."