Knock Out was at Starscream's side faster than he thought he was capable of moving. The seeker's eyes were only open in narrow slits, but they were open nonetheless. Knock Out had never seen any bot awaken from stasis lock quite that quickly. Looks like Starscream's ability to endure hadn't just been dark humor.
Starscream began struggling to sit up, and even the minimal amount of effort that took made his whole body shake. He was alive, but his body was probably burning with pain from his various injuries. Knock Out put a reassuring hand on the seeker's chest, gently pushing him back on to the berth. "Easy now, Starscream," he said, the softness from when he first found the seeker in the base returning. "You're safe. I'll take care of you."
Despite being in a caring profession, Knock Out had never really been what most would consider "caring". He'd never had much for bedside manner. He did his job, and that was the end of it. He knew he had a reputation among the Vehicons for being a quack, a slop artist who didn't give two frags about his patient's comfort or wellbeing. He only cared about their recovery process because, if they moved around too much, they'd undo all his hard work. Really, it was the one measure of practicality he took in his life. There was just no time for compassion, he'd discovered, when there was a line of broken bots waiting for you to piece them back together, just so they could be sent back out and broken again.
It was why he was so confused by why whatever latent protocol within him that was responsible for his empathy was just now starting to kick in. It was such an alien sensation, so foreign. He felt almost like a fraud, handling Starscream like he was a sparkling, being tended to by a parent.
Evidently, Starscream found it just as disconcerting. He stared up at Knock Out for a few minutes after he collapsed back on the berth, a trickle of the former scrutiny with which the seeker observed everything around him poking through and boring into Knock Out's head. It slipped away quickly though, and Starscream let his head lull to the side. Holding it up was apparently too much strain.
Starscream shuttered his optics - Knock Out had replaced the glass in the shattered one - and mumbled, his words slightly slurred because of his broken jaw, "Must be dead. Knock Out's never this nice."
Knock Out had to bite back a chuckle. Leave it to Starscream to have a flair for the dramatic, even when he'd just been pulled back from the edge of death. "'Fraid not, Screamer," he said. "You are indeed among the living."
Starscream didn't seem to be listening to him. He still mumbled softly, disjointedly. "Can't be," he wheezed. "It lasted so long, didn't it? I must be dead."
"What lasted so long, Starscream?"
"They were so angry," Starscream went on, his optics opening a fraction, staring off into a dark corner of the medbay. His words drifted out of his mouth like wisps of the wind. "So angry. Told me they were there to settle scores. I suppose I have paid in full."
Knock Out gently cupped Starscream's cheek, and turned the seeker to face him. The red optics, which Knock Out remembered as being full of fire, scheming, burning fire, were dull and empty. They looked through him. He told himself it was the pain making Starscream talk this way, ignoring the part of him that knew otherwise. Knew that not only Starscream's body had been broken by whatever happened to him. "Starscream," he said, his voice low, "who's they?"
"The beasts came and found me," Starscream mumbled. Knock Out knew who that meant - Predaking, and probably the two goons he had with him during the Unicron situation. He knew Predaking had no love for any Decepticons in his spark after what happened with Project Predacon, but he really thought most of his rage was reserved for Megatron. Perhaps now that their mighty liege was out of reach, he went after the second-easiest target?
Starscream wheezed a little, and pulled Knock Out's attention back to him. "Rejoining the All-Spark hurts," he mumbled, seemingly to no one in particular. "Wish the beasts had been quicker about it. Said they wanted me to suffer." Starscream's optics shuttered again, tighter this time, as if they were trying to block out the recollections. He started shaking. "I still feel them…"
Starscream's tone quavered as he took in a sharp breath of air, and it hit Knock Out directly in the spark. He'd heard Starscream beg and plead Megatron before. After some colossal foul-up, he was always on his knees, imploring their lord for another chance to prove himself, to show that he really was a loyal Decepticon soldier. But it never sounded like this. With those four words, Knock Out heard pitiful whimpers and the coming of tears. He heard desperate cries of pain and pleas for mercy that had been ripped out of his vocalizer by savage claws that tore wings to shreds.
He continued to amaze himself as he took Starscream's clawed hand in his own, and said, "It's alright, Starscream. You're here. That's all over now. Rest now." He repeated it over and over until the shaking subsided.
Starscream opened his eyes for a moment when it did, but they immediately fluttered closed once more. The energy he had was spent. The beeping of the life support machine was, once again, the only thing to break the silence. Knock Out was beginning to hate it with every fiber of his being.
When Starscream slipped back into unconsciousness, Knock Out didn't move to let go of his hand right away. Didn't try to move away. He doubted if he could. The proud seeker that he found simultaneously an acquaintance to banter with and a frustrating annoyance was beaten beyond recognition, inside and out.
Despite all the beatings Knock Out had seen Starscream go through, from foe and ally alike, they'd never broken him. Knock Out could commend him on his ability to just keep getting back up, go right back to scheming and plotting and maybe throwing in some colorful revenge for this new humiliation. No matter how much dirt and rocks you heaped on him, Starscream's fire continued to burn. But the Predacons had been like a bucket of cold water. They'd doused him completely. Knock Out had never felt such pity in his entire existence.
The sound of metal scraping metal rang out above the life support machine, just outside the medbay doors, and startled him out of his thoughts. Reluctantly releasing Starscream's hand, Knock Out sat up, and went over to the doors, and they slid open to reveal a Vehicon staring up him. From the hunched over way he looked up at Knock Out, it was clear he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.
Rage boiled within Knock Out. He figured that Magnus would do something like this, send a hapless soldier to come do his dirty work now that he knew Knock Out was working against him. His gaze must have reflected that rage, because the Vehicon let out a quiet squeak of fear, and tried to get to his feet. Knock Out immediately grabbed his arm, holding tight, and turned his other hand into his drill. "What's your serial number, drone?" He sounded like some sort of demon.
The Vehicon began stammering, unable to spit out the sequence. Knock Out rolled his eyes in disgust, and tossed the Vehicon away. "You're lucky that I'm feeling benevolent today. But if I catch you lurking about here again, this drill is going straight through your spark chamber. Understood?"
The Vehicon in his grasp nodded vigorously, and with that, Knock Out released his grip on his arm. The Vehicon stumbled as he moved away from Knock Out, nearly slamming himself into the wall behind him, panting hard from the fear clenching at his spark. As soon as he got his bearings, he took off down the hallway.
With the Vehicon out of sight, all the energy that burst of anger had lent him seemed to melt from Knock Out's frame. He felt so heavy, like he was dragging around a frame meant for a mech twice his size. A whirlwind of emotion swept through him, emotions he wasn't familiar with and couldn't control. He was almost shaking with the force of it.
He went back into the medbay, disgusted when himself when he started to sway from how exhausted he suddenly felt. What was he, some kind of squishy human femme in a fainting spell? He eventually made it to the chair at his work bench, and sat down heavily. He cast another glance over his shoulder at the unconscious seeker.
That Vehicon he chased away was probably a spy for Magnus. He'd probably heard the entire conversation that Knock Out and Starscream had. Which meant that Magnus would know now that Starscream was awake.
Knock Out could only wonder how much longer the seeker had left.
Knock Out massaged his neck cables as he made his way to the mess hall. He'd ended up falling asleep at his work bench, still whittling away at the wing replacement, and now his neck and head ached something fierce. At least he didn't feel so oppressively heavy anymore. His evening energon might help with the pain.
He'd been reluctant to leave Starscream's side for his ration, though. After everything with the spying Vehicon, he'd become much more paranoid about the Autobots and their endgame for the seeker. As the din of conversation increased in volume, Knock Out wondered when Magnus would finally decide to toss Starscream in the brig. Would he wait for the repairs to finish? Or would Arcee convince him that he didn't deserve the repairs, and that he just needed to be kept alive for the information he could provide? Thinking about the vengeful little two-wheeler made Knock Out see red for a moment, but he quickly reined it in, so he wouldn't stand out as he walked into the mess hall and to the energon dispenser.
The place was full, as usual. Near the front was a table full of nothing but Autobots - Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Smokescreen, Wheeljack, and Ratchet all sat around two bots that Knock Out had never seen before. One was black and white, a grounder, with a blue visor covering his eyes, his doors spanned out behind him like a pair of cumbersome wings. The other shared the color scheme and the visor, only with a gray face, no door wings, and a giant grin. The one with the door wings sat stoically, primly sipping his energon, while the grinner told an animated story, mentioning something about a bot named Gears and something called the Ark.
As he watched the group, the stoic bot suddenly spotted him. Even though Knock Out couldn't see his eyes, he knew the bot was staring at him, analyzing him, scrutinizing him. Knock Out stared back, even though the cold gaze made him suppress a shudder. He wasn't about to let the mech know that he intimidated him.
After a few minutes, Knock Out broke the stare and continued on his way. He made a mental note to watch out for that guy.
He proceeded to the energon dispensers, passing a few tables full of Vehicons as he did. They were much quieter than he usually remembered, a few of them casting glances back over at the new Autobots. He knew a lot of them were happy with being out from under Megatron's thumb. They were no longer just cannon fodder, born to die for a cause they'd been told they believed in. But working under the people who used to slag you for fun wasn't exactly peachy keen either. Knock Out sighed and grabbed up his cube, starting to fill it with his nightly ration.
Then he noticed the one mech that sat by himself, surrounded neither by Vehicons or his own comrades - Ultra Magnus. The commander was staring down at a data pad he held, an untouched energon cube cupped in his claw. Knock Out quickly realized that he was just staring at it. His eyes didn't move in any indication that he was reading what was in front of him. He was pretending he was busy.
As if feeling the medic's eyes on him, Magnus looked up for a moment, locking eyes with Knock Out. Knock Out attempted to keep his face blank. He would not give Magnus any sort of clue about how angry he was that he was treating Starscream like some kind of tool to end a conflict. How afraid he was of the power he wielded because he was able to do that whenever he pleased.
Magnus was the one to look away this time, a flicker of shame evident on his face. Knock Out felt a disgust flare up in his tanks. He hoped it wouldn't put him off his energon. His head still hurt.
Clutching his cube close to his chest, Knock Out briskly headed for the door. He wanted to get back to the wing, and maybe start working on Starscream's jaw. As he left, he felt the prickly sensation of being watched. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw every single Autobot at the table near the door staring at him. He quickened his pace, and hurried out to the hall, the prickly feeling lingering on his struts.
As Knock Out left the medbay, a lone Vehicon dispersed the field of his energon cube, got up from the table where he sat with some friends, and walked briskly to follow the medic out of the mess hall. He tried to remain in the shadows, so he wouldn't be seen. The last time had gotten him a face full of angry red grounder, and even though he wasn't sure if Knock Out could even tell them apart with their visors on, he didn't want to risk another verbal mauling.
Better to remain hidden, if it meant he could be there for Starscream.
Just the thought of the air commander made his spark flutter in its chamber. He'd admired Starscream for he didn't know how long. Since he first laid eyes on him, he supposed. When he first saw the sleek wings, the long, slender legs, the elegant claws, the fiery optics, he'd lost himself completely. The commander was his star, the brightest in his tiny universe, and he adored him.
He'd always told himself nothing would come of it. If he didn't, the other Vehicons did. His star didn't see him. He was one of thousands of a disposable race. Outside of his serial number, he had no individuality. He was called a drone. He could be run through by an Autobot, blown up in the mines, or simply in the wrong place when a Decepticon officer was in a bad mood and felt like murdering something. If he died, Starscream wouldn't have cared.
But then he'd made it to the end of the war. At least the Autobots saying it was the end. No Vehicons had been wantonly slaughtered by the one they called Wheeljack recently, so he supposed that was a good starting point. Things were definitely looking up where he and his fellow Vehicons were concerned. Only those who refused to renounce the Decepticons were locked up in the brig, and any others who were willing to help with reconstruction efforts were given a chance at life. It was certainly preferable to living each day hoping you weren't gunned down or shot through.
He himself had been pretty okay with living amongst the Autobots. He knew that a lot of his comrades were still a little nervous about it, especially the soldiers and the miners. They had every right to be. He remembered hearing a bunk mate in the barracks whimpering in recharge, dreaming of the friend who'd been blown up when the Autobots raided a mine. The poor guy had to stare at the charred remains for hours before the survivors were safely dug out. He himself was friendly with a miner who'd been on the receiving end of a blowtorch to the face, courtesy of the Autobot's medic. The incident left him blind in that eye.
The permeating fear was indeed understandable.
But, so far, they'd been treated quite well. The one called Bulkhead actually seemed to be taking a shine to the group helping him with some construction work. Those Vehicons talked fondly of how nice the Wrecker was. He truly believed that things were looking up for him and his brothers.
Then he'd heard about Starscream being found. Rumors were a powerful tool amongst the Vehicons, always had been. If you knew something of interest that someone wanted to know, that could be used for favors, protection, just about anything you could want. When he'd heard about Knock Out and Ultra Magnus dragging a half-slagged Starscream back through the ground bridge after a retrieval mission, he'd given up his morning ration of energon to figure out what had happened to the air commander. As soon as the information was his, he'd rushed to the medbay, if only to get a glimpse at his beloved star.
Following Knock Out again through the halls of the Nemesis made his spark ache a bit. When he had gotten to the medbay that first time, he'd gotten one look at Starscream's horribly broken body and lost all nerve to be there beside him. The damage was brutal. He'd watched from the shadows like a coward while Knock Out fussed and fretted over his charge, working tirelessly to keep him from offlining for good.
And what had he himself done? Nothing. He watched someone else rescue his star. Then he sat idly by while Ultra Magnus told Knock Out that Starscream would only be saved to be used to capture more Decepticons. When Knock Out had finally discovered him hiding in the shadows and yelled at him, he knew he deserved it.
Of course, now he was here, following Knock Out back to the medbay to watch over his star once more. He just couldn't force himself to stop. Even though Starscream didn't even know he existed, he wanted to be there for him. He wanted to help Knock Out keep Starscream out of the brig. Even if no one else did, he would try to help protect his star. As much as he wanted the fighting to end, he didn't want it if this was the price that had to be paid.
They arrived at the medbay. Knock Out walked in, and the doors slid shut behind him. The Vehicon took his place in the shadows. Fortunately, the doors to the medbay were quite thin, and since it was so cavernous, it had excellent acoustics, and words bounced off the walls constantly. If you listened carefully, you could pick up almost entire conversations, no matter how hushed.
Which was why it certainly wasn't it certainly was difficult to hear a seeker coughing and hacking his way back into consciousness inside, and a pair of harried footsteps coming over to his side.
The Vehicon sat and listened.
Starscream's hacking echoed off the walls as Knock Out rushed to his side. Starscream had always had weak intakes, and was the only Cybertronian Knock Out knew with a coughing problem. With the state he was in right now, Knock Out really didn't expect the seeker to stay awake long after his little fit. Coughing with a broken jaw couldn't have been much fun anyway. All he could do for the moment was give Starscream's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
He was shocked when, as the coughs subsided, Starscream actually stayed online. The seeker cast a harsh look at him, and jerked his shoulder back, away from the gentle touch. "What do you think you're doing," the seeker snapped.
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Knock Out replied, pulling his hand away like the harsh words burned him.
"I'm fine," Starscream muttered. He began testing his range of movement, which, since Knock Out had been expecting him to be in stasis lock for a lot longer, wasn't much. Something popped in his broken knee joint, and Starscream let out a squawk of pain, grabbing it with the hand on the unbroken arm. "Honestly, Knock Out," he spat, "are you so incompetent that you can't even fix a simple knee joint?"
Knock Out frowned, but he tried to keep his head. Starscream was in pain. Starscream had been through a lot. He had every right to be a bad patient. Still, he took a calming breath, swallowing the sarcastic quip he so wanted to fling at the bellyaching seeker. "Well, you came out of stasis much sooner than I expected," he said evenly. "Unless, of course, you want me to perform surgery on you while you're conscious. I do recall you being more than a bit squeamish around drills."
Well, nobody's perfect.
Starscream tried to puff himself up to be intimidating, but his wounds made that virtually impossible. "I am not in the mood for jokes, Knock Out. And to think I brought you to the Nemesis for your medical expertise. I have no idea what possessed me with such a notion."
Knock Out rolled his eyes. The whole "caring profession" part of him was started to wear thin now that Starscream was lucid. "Well, pardon me, Starscream," he said, "maybe you'd like me to call Ratchet back in here to patch you up. As I understand, he did that quite a bit during your adventures as an independent party. Maybe, if you're good, he'll even give you an energon goodie."
Starscream's glare could have melted through solid steel. Knock Out, like always, stood his ground. Any time Starscream thought he could intimidate him when they argued, he knew that it was just the seeker blowing exhaust. Starscream simply wasn't the type for all-out attack someone. He was more of the backstabbing type, who snuck up while you were vulnerable. Knock Out generally felt like he had nothing to fear from him.
Starscream snorted from the berth, and said, "It certainly would be a nice change of pace to have an actual physician tending to me instead of a hack obsessed with his finish. At least when that lumbering brute Breakdown was around, you had someone who could actually get a job done. Unless there were humans involved, I suppose."
And with that comment, Knock Out was done with this "caring profession" slag.
"You know something, Starscream," he said, his tone low and dangerous, "I would think you'd have a bit more respect for the person who dragged your sorry aft back here instead of letting you die in an abandoned base. But then, after the way you treated me when our dabblings in the supernatural went awry, I really think I shouldn't be surprised."
"Are you still whining about that?" Starscream's tone was dismissive. He continued inspecting his knee injury, as if that were the most pressing thing in his life at this exact moment.
Knock Out's patience was starting to wear thin. "You threw me to Megatron's mercy. All because you didn't want to take responsibility for a catastrophe you created and forced me to go along with!"
"Do you ever use any sense," Starscream turned from his knee, and brought his burning gaze back to Knock Out. "Think for a moment. If Megatron had believed me about you being responsible for Cylas' creation, do you think he would have trounced his only medic?"
Any retort Knock Out had died on his tongue.
"I was disposable, doctor," Starscream said, his voice filled simultaneously with venom and regret. "I had been to Megatron for a very long time. What I did, I did to protect you as well as myself. You were valuable to him, and Megatron never wants to lose a valuable asset. So you lost privileges and had to report to that sycophant Shockwave. At least you walked away with your life. As did I. I saved us both a beating, especially since that winged abomination Predaking quickly stole our master's ire."
Knock Out didn't miss the way the seeker's uninjured wing tensed and attempted to curl up against his back at the mere mention of Predaking, but he was too shocked to say anything.
Starscream had done something for him, out of nothing but concern for his wellbeing.
The Starscream. For whom lying, cheating, and backstabbing seemed to be in his very nature.
Starscream cared about him.
He had no idea what to do with that information. Starscream had still put him through a mess of trouble, berating and abused him, nearly gotten him killed, and then just went right back to screaming in his face when it was all said and done. None of that went away just because Starscream had done one nice thing for him.
So why was this compassion and care for Starscream trickling back, making him want to take care of the poor fragger? It didn't make any sense to him.
He didn't have time to ruminate on it long. When he looked up at Starscream again, the seeker's face was contorted in shock. He was looking over Knock Out's shoulder, towards his work bench. Knock Out then realized he left the wing and the schematic in plain view, where Starscream could see it.
The seeker's hands immediately flew to his back, feeling where his wing should be. All they felt was the jagged edge where it had been ripped away from his body.
The keen that echoed in the medbay felt like a piece of glass being driven in Knock Out's spark. It was long and piercing and full of almost animalistic pain, none of which was physical.
The keening slowly became shallow, rapid breathing. Knock Out could see Starscream's chest rising and falling. The seeker's eyes grew wide and wild. Any lucidity that had once been there slowly trickled away.
"My wing…" he whispered. "They took my wing…"
Starscream then attempted to get up, the wires connecting him to life support machines and IV's growing taut and threatening to break. Knock Out tried to put a hand on Starscream's chest to impede him, and was about to order him to stay still or he'd hurt himself, but Starscream was beyond listening. The mere weight of Knock Out's hand holding him down was enough to make the seeker lash out, swiping a clawed hand at Knock Out's chassis. He was in survival mode now, trying to get out, trying to get to the sky.
"Starscream, stop!" Knock Out cried in desperation. Starscream only responded by fighting back harder, shrieking like he was being devoured from within. Knock Out fought so many flashbacks as he grabbed Starscream's wrists and held as tightly as he could. Even with crippling injuries like his, Starscream still fought him, twisting his body to try and get away. He shot a foot out and kicked over a tray of medical tools, the whole apparatus falling to the floor with a clang almost drowned out completely by the screaming seeker.
Knock Out tried to talk Starscream down, tightening his grip on the seeker's wrists and bringing him to eye level. He said, "Starscream, you have to calm down. Your wing can be fix, but you need to calm down or you'll hurt yourself more." When Starscream tried to pull from Knock Out's grip again, Knock Out shouted, "Stop thrashing, slaggit!"
This only served to spook the seeker even more than he already was, and with one finally twist, the wires snapped free of his body, and Starscream and Knock Out went tumbling to the floor. Starscream shrieked again, directly into Knock Out's audial receptor, and they rang as they hit the floor. Starscream was undaunted in his attempts to escape, but, somehow, through sheer will, Knock Out kept his grip on Starscream's wrists.
It was then he noticed the syringe. It lay on the floor amongst the other scattered equipment from the overturned tray. It was filled with a sedative, something Knock Out didn't normally use because of manual overrides all Cybertronians had for medical procedures. They were generally only for emergencies.
Knock Out decided a hysterical seeker trying to escape the medbay with untreated wounds counted. He let go of one of Starscream's wrists long enough to snatch the syringe up, get the air bubbles out, then jam it into the most available surface - in this case, the arm he still had a hold on.
After tossing the syringe away, Knock Out grabbed the wrist once more, and started counting. Starscream fought him for exactly two more minutes, in human time, before he started losing steam. Knock Out could finally sit up and let the seeker lean against him. Even now, he could hear the barely audible whispering.
"They took my wings…"
Knock Out felt like his spark was breaking. He'd seen some pathetic grounded seekers in his time. Nothing compared to this. "I'm sorry," he found himself whispering back. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it. I promise."
He put his hands on Starscream's shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. At least he could reassure one of them.
When the screaming finally subsided, the Vehicon finally allowed himself to relax. The eerie, practically oppressive silence in the medbay was hardly reassuring, but at least his star had calmed down.
I am nothing but a coward, he thought to himself. My star is in there suffering, and after that grand vow to protect him, I'm still here, hiding in the shadows. I don't deserve him.
"Hey, Stalker Steve!"
The sudden shout practically made him leap a foot in the air.
When he composed himself and turned to face the source of the shout, he saw three Vehicons approaching him, whom he recognized as three that worked on Bulkhead's construction crew. One of them, whom everyone called Malcolm, spoke up, and said, "Spying on your delicate seeker love again, Stalker? Hoping that maybe he'll let you breathe the same air as him today?"
The other two laughed. Steve merely frowned beneath his mask, and said, "Shut your mouth, Malcolm."
The Vehicon who had shouted initially, nicknamed Trent, said, "Don't be sassy, Stevey. Pretty sure your precious air commander doesn't appreciate mouthy drones."
The third Vehicon, called Kyle, said, "Honestly, Steve, why do you even care about that puny seeker anyway? The Autobots treat us way better than he or any other Decepticon ever did."
Steve felt a flicker of rage in his spark at the insult to his star, but he tried to keep his calm as he said, "Are you guys forgetting who it was that slagged us day after day. If I recall correctly, it was the Autobots."
"Yeah, and have you forgotten who kept sending us out to be slagged," Kyle said, taking a step towards Steve and poking a finger into his chest. "None of them ever gave a flying frag about any of us, Screamer least of all. We were replaceable, every last one of us. Even if th Decepticons had won, none of that would have changed."
Steve's hands balled into fists. He vaguely realize he was shaking.
Kyle didn't seem to notice as he continued, "Me, personally? I don't give a frag what Magnus does to Screamer. Pit, if it was up to me, I wouldn't have even let that crazy doc have him. Just would have thrown him in the brig and forgotten about him. Hard to imagine the Autobots would find him any more useful than Megatron did anyway."
"Shut up!" Steve couldn't stop himself before the shout erupted from his vocalizer, then gave Kyle a rough shove. The other Vehicon was caught off guard by the sudden retaliation, and stumbled back into his cohorts, who quickly caught him and set him back upright.
"So," Kyle said, his tone low and dangerous, "Stalker Steve is protecting his commander's honor, is he?"
Suddenly, Steve was blindsided by a strong punch to the side of his face. He stumbled backwards, stars dancing in his vision. It took him a moment to regain his senses, and when he did, he saw Trent, lining up another shot. This one landed directly to his jaw, and the force knocked him off his feet.
He hit the floor with a tremendous thud, and a foot started connecting with his abdomen, courtesy of Malcolm. The kick forced all the air from Steve's intakes, in loud, bursting wheezes, and pain shot up his frontal struts. He just knew they were going to break something. A kick from Kyle hit him square in the head, and his optic buzzed with static. He felt something warm trickle from the socket, and he wasn't sure whether he'd rather it be optical fluid or energon.
Then he heard the sound of the medbay doors sliding open, and the blows stopped falling. Through the haze of pain, he heard Knock Out shout, "What in Primus' name are you defects doing?!"
He listened as the three others ran off, their fleeing footsteps echoing through the hall. Knock Out's white and red feet came into view, and suddenly Steve felt himself being pulled up by his shoulders, and brought to eye level with the medic, concern and exhaustion etched into his every feature. He wondered if the medic even recognized him from earlier that day.
He left optic buzzed again, and he let out a pained gasp as it sparked a bit. Fragging Kyle must have short-circuited something. He heard Knock Out sigh, and his arm was pulled over the medic's shoulder. Gingerly, Knock Out led him into the medbay, the doors sliding shut behind them.
Knock Out was seriously considering a career change as he helped the dented Vehicon on to the next available berth. Or at the very least, going to hide in his room for a few days and not come out until this pounding in his head stopped.
He knew this was the same Vehicon from before - the same hapless, spying Vehicon, and from what Knock Out had heard from the arguing outside, he wasn't the exact sort of spy he'd originally pegged him as. He let out another frustrated sigh as he started examining the poor guy. The dents and scratches weren't deep enough to be soldered shut, and would seal up in time, thanks to his nanites.
He said, "Any trouble seeing? Dizziness? Vertigo?"
It took the Vehicon a few moments to response, but eventually he said, "Um…I think I got a cracked optic."
Knock Out raised an optical ridge. "They look fine to me," he said. And they did. The two red lines were a little scratched, but he figured the Vehicon could take care of that himself.
"Oh…um, well, those aren't really my eyes," the Vehicon said, his quiet, sheepish tone growing even more so. He reached up to the sides of his face, and with a soft hiss, two pressure locks were released. Slowly, what Knock Out thought was the Vehicon - every Vehicon's - face slipped away. Underneath was a milky complexion, that looked unexpectedly young. Two bright red eyes stared back at him, fear evident in them. The glass was cracked badly in the left one, and occasionally it let off painful-looking sparks. Did all Vehicons have faces like this? He wondered if they have different facial features, different scars and quirks and blemishes that they never had the spark to get rid of. He'd been surrounded by them all this time and he'd never known any of them had faces underneath their expressionless masks.
Knock Out must have been staring, but the Vehicon quietly said, "Um, doc?"
Knock Out gave himself a shake, "Sorry," he said, averting his stare. "I just…I never knew those were masks. I just always thought, ya know, mass produced drones and everything."
"That's what Shockwave liked to think about us," the Vehicon said, his small mouth curving up in a smile that faded quickly. "Um…so, I'd…I'd like to apologize for earlier. For, um, well, being such a creep."
Knock Out picked through the tray of medical tools by his side, haphazardly thrown back on after he picked them up from Starscream's tantrum, and stopped to look at the Vehicon, "That was you, huh?"
The Vehicon merely nodded. Knock Out finally found the iron and said, "Well, don't worry about it. If anything, I should apologize to you for the outburst. I had…I thought you were there for a far more sinister reason."
"You mean what's going on with the Autobots," the Vehicon asked innocently. He immediately realized what he'd said, and backtracked, "I mean…I heard about that. I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to be so insensitive about it. I just…I heard, and I wanted to make sure that Starscream was, ya know, okay." The Vehicon averted his gaze again. "I…I don't want him to be locked up anymore than you do, sir," he added quietly.
That heavy feeling crept into Knock Out's frame once more. Just hearing Starscream's eventually fate from the mouth of someone else, a neutral party in all this, was enough to make him want to go crawl into a hole and never come out. Knock Out set the soldering iron down with a thud next to the Vehicon on the berth, making the poor guy jump.
"I don't know what to do," Knock Out muttered. He was only vaguely aware of saying it out loud so the Vehicon could here. "I'm just so tired."
"I'm sorry, sir," the Vehicon mumbled. Another beat of silence. The Vehicon seemed to be contemplating. He then softly said, "Maybe…maybe you could use some help? Ya know, another hand around here. I know you're used to it…" The Vehicon suddenly stopped himself, and Knock Out was grateful for it. Despite himself, a small smile curled on his lips.
"I mean," the Vehicon said, "I think I could be useful, if you'll have me."
Knock Out looked back up at the Vehicon, with his young face and his eyes full of hope and slight fear of being turned away and something else that Knock Out swore he recognized, but couldn't quite name. Finally, he said, "I think I will have you."
The Vehicon's face practically lit up, in spite of the broken optic. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I promise I'll help support you and Starscream in any way that I can."
"I appreciate that, drone," Knock Out said. "You can start by calling me Knock Out instead of "sir". Who do I look like, Ultra Magnus?"
The Vehicon snorted a laugh. "In that case," he said, "call me Steve. My optic hurts too much for me to be a simple drone."
"Very well, Steve, let's get that fixed so I can put you to work."