Autobot Base:
Knock Out's outbursts had become less and less frequent over the course of a few days, and eventually just stopped altogether. But his aloof silence worried the chief medic.
He would not speak when anyone entered the room, but recordings showed him talking to himself.
They weren't in a way to suggest he was going mad, but just quiet mutterings to himself in soothing tones. The exact meaning behind the perplexing yet simple dialogue eluded Ratchet.
Every time he knew he was about to be in the company of another, Knock Out turned his back to the door and silenced himself. No matter who spoke to him, no matter what they said, no one ever got a response from him.
This time, when Ratchet had been to check on the red medic, Knock Out's armor was fixed and shining like new. The medical kit was lying neatly by the door, completely intact. A few scraps of steel paneling had been ripped from the walls and scattered around Knock Out in a complex pattern, almost seeming deliberate.
"Still not going to talk?" An icy silence greeted Ratchet's question. "I'll take that as a no. At least you're not broken anymore."
He bent down to pick up one of the scraps of steel when a hand on his forearm stopped him.
Knock Out slowly shook his head, gesturing around him at the intricate pattern.
Almost instantly, Ratchet saw it. There was an ancient symbolism in the scattered pieces of metal. Lines were carved between some of the pieces, forming shapes and glyphs.
One in particular caught Ratchet's optics. It was an interesting fusion between faction symbols, somewhere between the harsh corners of the Decepticon insignia and the more rounded edges of the Autobot sigil.
That was what was up with all the scraping and tearing of metal that had been going on lately.
Knock Out looked like he was waiting for Ratchet to object, but the older medic did nothing of the kind. He handed him the welder that he had grabbed from the medical kit on his way past.
"It's easier if you use this," Ratchet advised, nodding to the shallow scrapes on the floor. "It won't damage the metal so much that way."
Knock Out cracked a smile, but it faded into a worried frown. He stared in confusion at his former mentor, then at the tool in his hand. Then he nodded stiffly, turning back to the designs.
Ratchet decided that nothing was wrong with Knock Out simply amusing himself – or perhaps he was just trying to pass the time – so he left. As he walked out, he could have sworn he heard Knock Out murmur to himself, "Maybe he'll understand later."
Still at Base:
Knock Out kept himself sane by creating the elaborate patterns on the floor, plotting out each twist and turn of each new symbol he thought of, replacing the empty space between them with a shallow scratch, followed by a clean mark in its place.
Then he got an idea. It just fit. Who cared if the Autobots got angry?
He'd do it; once he was sure no one was watching. But for now he contented himself with creating a spiraling rune roughly in the shape of the ancient symbol for truth – it could have been trust, depending on how you looked at it.
The medic smiled, picking up another shard of metal and etching a rune into the thin armor on his wrist. Surprisingly, it looked nice.
He completed it slowly, about once a day. Luckily for him, the Autobots were oblivious to his transformation until he finished it. Ratchet was the first to notice.
Three Days Later:
Knock Out was changing quickly. He often snapped at Bulkhead when the large mech came to check up on him; even Ratchet did not get away without a scathing remark from the red medic.
"Still think I can change, do you?"
Ratchet froze. He'd been leaving when Knock Out asked the question.
"Well? Do you?"
The older medic sighed heavily. "Yes, I do think you can change." He half-turned to catch a glimpse of Knock Out standing behind him, a puzzled look on his faceplate.
"You haven't changed a bit, still believing 'cons can change. Remember what happened when you gave Scavenger that chance? Total disaster, that's what. When are you gonna come to your senses and give up? It's just easier that way."
Ratchet walked out. "It's never easier to give up, Knock Out. Sometimes you just have to remember what you're fighting for. Get some rest. I know you haven't recharged for nearly a week."
"Get some rest?" Knock Out echoed, infuriated. "What right have you to tell me what to do?" But Ratchet was already gone.
"Sometimes you just have to remember what you're fighting for," Knock Out mimicked cruelly; he did not like the idea. "What a joke. How could he really know what he's fighting for? No one does; the Decepticons surely don't. Megatron seems to think it right of him to keep his troops in the dark."
He angrily threw one of the metal shards at the wall; the sound it produced was similar to what humans called 'nails on a chalk board'.
Knock Out put his hands over his audio receptors. He felt so tired and useless.
Almost immediately, his vision went dark, shutting down with the rest of his systems into a much needed recharge.
Knock Out exited the building with his head held high.
He heard a voice from behind him, the voice of his until-recently mentor. "You can't go and try to join them just yet."
The young red mech turned to face Ratchet. "And why not?"
"You need training. Optimus and the other Autobots have obtained some information about the Decepticon ranks that could just save your life."
Knock Out stared at Ratchet. "You know we're not supposed to refer to our commander by anything except for Optimus Prime. It's forbidden!" He lowered his voice. "The Council might hear you. Didn't you think about what they might do if they heard?"
Ratchet shook his head. "So naïve," he muttered fondly, patting the new medic on the head. "Optimus and I were friends while he was still a clerk in the Iacon Record Halls. I don't think anyone will have a problem with me calling him Optimus."
"Alright," Knock Out said, "what did they find?"
"Do you remember the gladiatorial pits in Kaon?" Ratchet asked him. Knock Out nodded. "Most of Megatron's troops come from there. Fiercely loyal to the cause they serve, they won't hesitate to question your loyalty if they sense weakness or fear. You must be like them to become one of them. Do you think you would have the courage to strike your fellow Autobots in battle if it came to that?"
Knock Out's shoulder guard rose proudly. "If it means I could continue to serve my commander by securing my place under Megatron's command."
"Good. And your friend Breakdown? Do you know for sure he is on their side?"
Knock Out's cockiness evaporated. "He asked me to join them yesterday." He glanced down at his feet, embarrassed. "I told him I'd think about it."
Ratchet smiled at him. "Find him and tell him you've made up your mind. Tell him you'll join the Decepticons." He sent a code through to Knock Out's commlink. "Use this frequency to contact me when you find out anything; it's secure and won't be detectable by Decepticon equipment."
Knock Out didn't look as pleased as he had before. "What if I can't fool them? Then what?"
Ratchet gazed at the medic's worried frown and scared optics. "Don't think about it. You'll do fine; you've always been good at fooling people."
Knock Out still didn't look reassured. "I don't think I can do this Ratchet. I think I'll lose it sooner or later, slip up and let Megatron know I'm a spy."
Ratchet comfortingly placed his hand on the younger medic's shoulder guard. "Head up, Knock Out. You'll do great. Meanwhile, we have a war to fight."