Hunters

The mission hadn't gone as planned, and he wasn't coming back. Knockout was a Decepticon, he wasn't gonna mourn the loss of his partner, but didn't mean he wouldn't do anything about it. A raw bitter feeling had just awakened inside of him and he now knew exactly what he had to do. Although, this time, he would not go alone.

Disclaimer - I don't own Transformers Prime, which is property of its rightful owner.

Hunters by Skyhope021

Part 3 of Stuck Together Series

03~07~2021

Hunters, the story that inspired the whole series. This story is a long time idea that came to me after reading After The Coldest Rain by AcidGreenFlames. If you haven't read it, I recommend you to have a look at it.

Arcee and Knockout both lost someone to Airachnid. The idea of them sharing the same feeling of loss could have been interesting to explore in the show. It would have granted some kind of Autobot-Decepticon interaction out of battlefiel, but we never got to see that happen. I've come across different fanfics of this situation and I wanted to give a try myself, so here's my attempt. Let's see how it turns out.

Shouldn't take me long to update.

Hope you like it,

Enjoy!

1

'Lord Megatron wants Dreadwing and I to go on a mission. I'll be back soon.' His partner had said. 'Promised.' He had also said.

He had promised it... He had promised it. Damn it, he had promised it! He had always stayed true to his word. Always... But that time, he had never fulfilled it... Not that day, not never again.

The medic huffed, protected in the security of his domains, optics fixed onto the broken medical berth he had in front. His mouth was a thin line on his faceplates, almost invisible. His opticbrows were down straight, shading his crimson gaze, which shone intensely while his mind was somewhere else.

Few jours ago, Megatron's new lieutenant had made it into the Med Bay, and delivered the news to him in a solemn tone. The commander had just waited for some words or a reply, but none came out of the doctor, he had just simply nodded shortly and then continued with his duties, emotionless. The second in command, had shortly nodded in understanding and then had left the place the same way he had come from, leaving the crimson mech deep in thoughts.

The doors had closed right after the departure of his superior, but his words still resonated inside his helm, loud. 'He's not coming back...'. Dreadwing's words couldn't be speaking the truth. No, that was not possible, he denied it once again. That was a deliberate bad taste joke. It had to be. It was impossible that Breakdown wasn't coming back anymore...

He felt his legs failing to support his weight as he sank a knee on the ground, grabbing a hold on the berth in front of him in an attempt of holding himself up. His helm leaned forward, hiding his winced face. His audio receptors were lowered, as his plates slowly folded inwards, a clear sign of impotence and defeat. Breakdown was gone, and he had abandoned him behind.

The medic started to feel a new feeling now, something he hadn't experienced in millennia. It was raw bitter dark feeling, that made his spark cringe at first, but then burn. He could feel it all inside his veins as his energon seemed to be boiling, slowly crawling within him. He dug his claws on the surface of the berth and slowly raised his helm. His denta gritted, strong neck tensing. His plates expanded as much as they could. His optics opened abruptly, fierce burning gaze in them. Rage. That was what he was feeling, just plain and wild rage.

Moved by that growing anger, the mech stood up growling, strongly tossing the berth away, forcefully. His vents kicked on, trying to maintain the core temperature. He stared for a moment at the medical berth, his plates moving up and down as he vented, trying to get more air circle through his systems. He was panting, but he wasn't done yet. No. It was just the beginning.

The crimson mech discharged his fury on absolutely everything he found on his way, not caring whether it was delicate material or not. He destroyed screens and shattered energon cubes, letting his ire loose, and he did not stop until the Med Bay had become nothing other than a scrapyard. He simply stood there, in the middle of the chaos it was his infirmary now, still not satisfied. His anger was clouding his helm, but he did not mind. He wanted more.

At certain point the door slid open, granting access to someone. Knockout had barely noticed the sound of the sliding door, but he did noticed the presence of another cybertronian. As soon as the grey mech had landed a pede inside de infirmary, he had been received by a flying scalpel, which impacted nearly by his helm.

"OUT!" The medic had growled vehemently to the intruder, burning red glow shading his optics, sharp claws extended. Seeing the figure did not move from his stand, the red mech charged wrathfully, transforming his servo into his rotary saw. He was blinded in rage, not minding who was he attacking.

Knockout wasn't sure of what had happened next, but he found himself pinned against a wall by a giant servo on his chest, pedes dangling some metrons over the floor. He found his armed servo neutralized by another giant servo around his forearm. His fierce crimson optics were locked into the red ones of his captor. The little mech wriggled and scratched the strong forearm in front of him that held him in place, in a vain attempt of fighting for his freedom. There was more pressure added to his chest what made the medic finally stay still.

His optics gradually lost intensity, revealing once again his red round iris. As he had been forced to remain in place, the air moved by his vents finally managed to slowly cool him down, just enough to realize he had just attacked the wrong mech. Barely few microns away from him stood the mighty Megatron.

The Lord's expression was blank, not showing any clue of what was passing by his mind. His optics were intense under his opticbrows as he passively blinked. Knockout still had hatred into his own ones, much of it, staring straight into his Master's ones, grimace on his face. In normal circumstances, they would have reflected fear, but not this time. He wasn't the fighting class of mech, would never confront a high ranked Decepticon, even less their leader, but at that moment, he didn't care. He was angry and he had the right to express it.

It took him some breems, but his vent intake steadied, becoming quiet. He closed his optics for a moment, letting his helm drop forwards, before reopening them again, calmer. There was no more resistance, smaller frame relaxing and almost hanging loose now. The pressure on his chassis reduced, until he was placed back down on the ground, almost gently, coming from Megatron. The Lord let go of the forearm, and Knockout transformed it back into his servo, never making optic contact with the warlord.

"My... apologizes, Master." Knockout's voice came our quiet, bowing lightly by placing a servo on his chest. "It won't happen again."

"I won't take it into account this time." Megatron spoke firmly, looking down at him. "But know this, Knockout. If you dare to defy me ever again, you shall join your assistant in the All Spark. You would do well to remind that."

"Yes, Lord Megatron." The medic muttered, still not raising his gaze from the ground, fighting himself not to show any emotions in front of his leader.

"Soundwave. Send a group of soldiers to Med Bay." He demanded over the comm. link before turning again to his physician. "It would be recommendable to have it running straight away."

"As you wish, my Liege." It was an automatic reply, as the petite mech wasn't really paying attention anymore.

The medic waited until he was dismissed and walked further into his infirmary. He had a look around, suddenly aware of the disaster he had turned his impeccable Med Bay into, and sighed in annoyance. He shook his helm once and slowly began picking things up from the floor. It would take him some time to get it back to normal, specially now his partner was gone.

His optics were glued onto the battered medical berth in from of him. He was just sat over some crates, his forearms rested on his tighs toying with some bent forceps. He had gathered a small portion of the tools lying around, scattered on the ground, and he was now observing the vehicons tidying up. He was supposed to be cleaning up too, but he wasn't in the mood.

Due to the incessant carefree chattering of the troopers, he had gotten to know what had eventually happened to his partner, and that had triggered something within him. He had stopped doing whatever he was doing to glare at the talking mechs before he had sat down away. The stance had become mute, except for the objects movement.

The berth he had been staring at was finally moved away, but his spark wasn't at it. He was brooding something. Even if he had discharged all his rage while destroying the infirmary, the burning flame still persisted in his spark, refusing to vanish away. It was a quivering sensation that grew inside him, renewed, although this time, there was accompanied by a cold hint of something else... Something more.

The medic had now a name in mind. A name that poisoned his thoughts to the very core of his being each time he repeated it for himself. His expression eventually had turned from a serious one into a dangerously dark one. He stood up, not realizing he had crushed the forceps in his grasp. He tossed them aside, draggin the troopers' attention at the metallic sound of the object meeting the floor. He grimaced, walking further into the Med Bay, directly into his quarters. He pushed the vehicons he found in the way, and finally punched the code into the panel, granting him access. He entered in, ignoring the wishpered comments of his subordinates.

Knockout closed the door behind him and walked up to the floor leveled small rectangular window. He sat down next to it, resting his back on the wall and his arm on the frame. Outside there were storm clouds everywhere, discharging electricity here and there. He scoffed. How appropriate, given the situation.

He looked out of the glass, absort in how the clouds flashed with the excess of the electricy, somehow resembling to how his electro prod sparked when it was brought to life. It had been long since he, alongside his partner, had last sat down to admire the power of the weather in all its splendor. Another lightning lit the sky, soon followed by the loud thunder.

Knockout couldn't avoid thinking about it as an analogy. He was the lightning, fast, agil and graceful, lighting the sky and always preceeding the thunder. Breakdown was the thunder that hammered loud, mighty and powerful, announcing its strength. They both together formed the perfect storm, but without one of its components, there was nothing left. He narrowed his optics in bitterness as he realized. He had just lost his thunder.

That brought his previous thoughts up again, poisoning his being from the inside out. The despicable name was back on his mind.

Airachnid...

He recognized then that odd new sensation deep in his spark.

Revenge.

He wanted revenge.