A/N :D Sorry for not uploading for a while...oh well...here it is! Read!
Smokescreen: Can we skip this part of the story?
Me: NO. ):
Smokescreen: AWWW D: But I'm so stupid in this part!
Me: You're going in anyways. You too, guys *shoves everybody into scene*

Smokescreen looked around at his listeners. "Well. That's it. That's the whole story," He said. His teammates thought on what happened.
"Knockout said he had something planned for you," Ratchet reminded him. "He also said that you would help the Decepticon cause," The medic also said.
"What can Smokescreen do to help the Decepticon cause?" Arcee wondered aloud, looking at Smokescreen while she spoke.
"The only things that Smokescreen could possibly do are…" Ratchet's voice trailed off, thinking. Then he gasped. "To the berth, NOW!" There was a sudden hustle that broke the by comparison, calm and still environment. Ratchet pushed Smokescreen along. "Lie down. We may be in grave danger," Ratchet snapped to Smokescreen. Smokescreen quickly did as told. The Autobot Medic took out a couple tools. "Knockout may have implanted a GPS tracking system. He could be following our every movement. I'll have to get rid of it before Knockout picks up," He explained quickly. The Autobots tensed at that thought.
"Well, then do what you can!" Smokescreen retorted.
"This procedure should be easy…" Ratchet murmured, numbing Smokescreen's pain sensors with a dial attached to Smokescreen's helm. He whipped out a sharp tool with a white hot tip, and slowly carved a square opening in Smokescreen's chest metal. Ratchet set aside the slab of blue metal for later. It was disturbing to watch, especially for Smokescreen. It didn't hurt, but he felt like it should. The numbness was unnerving.
Ratchet frowned as he saw wires reattached within Smokescreen's chest metal. Smokescreen was right; Knockout did once rip apart cables while trying to get to his spark. Ratchet fought down a shudder, remembering how well Smokescreen detailed it. The wires were reattached to each other and wrapped around with a thin red material, like the human tool tape. Ratchet continued searching, looking for something out of place… "Ah!" The sound of triumph escaped his mouth, his smile accompanying the cry. Among the wires was a box studded with computer chips, next to his spark chamber, wires and cables passing in and out of it. It was glowing red, pulsing.
Bulkhead shifted his feet. Arcee was waiting, watching, her arms crossed. Bumblebee twiddled his thumbs, his car door "wings" quivering. Optimus Prime only observed carefully, eyebrows knitted with concern. Ratchet reached forward, aiming to reach the strange box. He'd only touched it when… "AAAARRRGGGHHH!" Smokescreen shot up. A couple of the Autobots jumped with surprise. Smokescreen was panting, eye wide. "WHAT was THAT?" He screeched, remnants of pain still in his voice. Ratchet stared with his mouth open, audios still ringing from Smokescreen's surprise scream.
"I…was just about to ask you the same thing." He replied, blinking. "All I did was touch something…" Ratchet mumbled. "But I numbed your pain sensors!" He added. Ratchet checked the computer for Smokescreen's status. "And they still are numbed…" He murmured, confusion in his features.
"Knockout's tricky," Smokescreen spoke up. A couple heads turned to the young bot. "He can be clever. Trust me, I would know. Naturally, he would do something that would leave me in pain. He likes that. So I think I can safely say that this is going to hurt, if we were to keep going." Smokescreen reasoned. Ratchet pondered on the Autobot's words. He looked up when he felt a vibration pass through the floor.
"Did you feel that?" He snapped. All the Autobots nodded except for Smokescreen. Bumblebee buzzed
something that could be translated as, "Where's it coming from?"
Everyone pointed in Smokescreen's direction. Another vibration. Their suspicions were confirmed. Smokescreen was the source. Suddenly one of those vibrations made its way to the computer, through the floor then up the database. The vibrations through the floor stopped. The supercomputer of the Autobot base flickered, and then it was filled with live footage of Knockout.
"Hello again, Autobots," He sneered.
"Knockout," Smokescreen spat contemptuously, trying to get up. Knockout only smiled. "I see my plan is working out quite nicely. I appreciate that you are all complying." He purred.
"We're not complying anything," Arcee growled, making a fist for no good reason. Knockout only smirked wider. He laughed.
"I don't have your coordinates yet," He said. "But that's because of choice. I love games. And so far, I'm winning." Knockout received a couple hard stares from everybody. He laughed again. "This message is transmitted from the red box in Smokescreen's chest. And, just so you know, whatever you do to my precious love Smokescreen to get rid of the box and help him should hurt a lot." Knockout added. Smokescreen shuddered so hard his metal made a clattering sound. They all felt sorry for Smokescreen, besides Knockout. "Well! Let's get started, shall we?" Knockout chirped happily.
"How about no?" Arcee muttered quietly to herself.
"The rules of the game are that I am timing you. You have 2 hours to get rid of the tracking system in Smokescreen before time is up. The worst part is that you can't touch the box with anything, or the outcome will come through Smokescreen. Any amount of antidote, numbness, or pain sensor removal will not block out the pain. And you can't put him into stasis. He will experience massive amounts of suffering and agony if you do. If the 2 hours are up and you haven't gotten rid of the box, it's GAME OVER for you! I'll record the coordinates and share it with Megatron, and we will have an attack on the base. Got that?" Knockout said. Silence filled the Autobot's base. "Alright. Ready…set…GO!" Knockout's face was abruptly replaced by a timer, counting down from 2 hours. The Autobots looked amongst themselves.
"Any ideas?" Arcee spoke up. Many heads shook no.
"It's like trying to walk through a hall of scraplets without touching a single one," Bulkhead mumbled, shaking his head. Just then Smokescreen's eye twinkled.
"Maybe…"
"What? You have an idea?" Ratchet said excitedly.
"Kinda," Smokescreen admitted, his optics now dim. "It's just like Bulkhead said. Like walking through a hall of scraplets. But no one said it was forbidden. No one can stop you from touching one of those scraplets," He explained sadly. Ratchet gasped.
"You aren't saying…" Smokescreen nodded. "I would strongly advise against-"
"It may be not the best option, what with being so painful, but it's still an option," Smokescreen said sorrowfully, suddenly looking weary and old. Ratchet slowly shook his head no, backing up.
"I-I couldn't possibly…" The Autobots around him were staring at Smokescreen in shock. He was asking for this. He must've had a circuit malfunction.
"I've already come up with a plan. Though it might not be in my favor…"

"Is that tight enough?" Ratchet inquired. Smokescreen was now with his back against the wall. The Autobots now had an hour and 32 minutes remaining, in human time.
Smokescreen fought against the one that Ratchet had just adjusted. His arm didn't budge.
"Yep."
"That's that last one," Ratchet said gravely.
"Come on, come on, we're wasting time every second!" Bulkhead complained impatiently, voice growing in volume.
"Bulkhead's right," Arcee agreed sternly. "We don't have much time left!"
"I know, I know!" Ratchet snapped back angrily. "Working on it!" Ratchet resumed securing Smokescreen to the wall. "How much can you move?" Smokescreen squirmed under the energy beams.
"Nice and tight," He replied.
"Good." Ratchet's voice was grim. He took the same sharp, white-hot tool as before, after numbing Smokescreen's pain sensors as much as he could. The square hole that Ratchet carved earlier was still there. Ratchet took a shaky breath before inserting the tool through the wires. Ratchet also stuck another servo in to push aside some cables that got in the way.
"C'mon, doc, we don't have all day," Smokescreen pressed. Ratchet was so scared he didn't have the energy to reprimand the young mech about calling him doc or to tell him to have some patience. He only wordlessly drew the tool nearer to the glowing red box. He touched it.
The reaction was instantaneous. Smokescreen's yell tore through the air, and they all had to adjust their audios to accustom to the sound. "RRAAAAAAARRRRGGH!" Ratchet winced. He felt terrible. It was his fault that Smokescreen was screaming out in agony.
The computer suddenly turned split-screen, one side showing the timer, still ticking, the other side with Knockout. The Decepticon whistled.
"That's…quite the plan. You Autobots can be so creative…" He muttered quietly, shaking his head slightly with amusement, a faint, growing smile on his face, eyes wide with interest. Ratchet ignored him, trying to focus on his job of extracting the cube. Smokescreen had both eyes squeezed shut. He was gritting his teeth between screams of agony, fighting against the restraints. Pain. Tearing, ripping pain, vibrating his very nerves. A rather loud scream triggered a laugh from Knockout. "Well, good luck! You'll need it," Knockout chuckled. "Tick, tock…" His face disappeared and the computer was now with a full view of the timer.
Ratchet tried desperately to shut out Smokescreen's shrieks. He didn't know why, but he looked at Smokescreen's face. Ratchet winced at the sight.
Smokescreen was crying again. But this time, it was his own fault. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt he couldn't continue. Ratchet pulled a bit away, stopping. Smokescreen took this moment to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell heavily, his eye opening. He gave Ratchet a questioning look. Ratchet only
shook his head.
"I…I can't do it," He croaked hoarsely. Smokescreen frowned.
"I ca-an stand it," He responded, his voice cracking. Ratchet stared at him sternly.
"No, you can't and you know it." He replied firmly. Bumblebee inquired on what was happening.
"Ratchet here refuses to go on," Smokescreen answered him dryly.
"Smokescreen won't survive!" Ratchet protested. Smokescreen sighed.
"Listen, Ratchet. We don't have the time for this. The clock for the end of all our lives is ticking and we can beat it, if we cooperate. If I die, fine by me. I would've saved you all if I did, and I'd say my life is a good enough cost for the rest of yours. Let's get this over with quick. Any amount of suffering is worth you guys. So why don't we finish this up quick?" He retorted. Ratchet had nothing to say for himself, but didn't continue. Smokescreen glared at him. "I've been in constant agony for an entire week. I can stand these few minutes," He added. Ratchet finally gave in and continued. Smokescreen cringed from within the restraints, fighting down a scream. He gulped in some air and held his breath. He willed himself not to scream, to reassure the others. But he was in terrible agony, pain that made him feel like he was being torn apart. He could relate to the times Knockout was slowly dissecting him.
Ratchet tried to focus on removing the box. It was so close to Smokescreen's spark chamber, so it was harder than usual to extract it. Separate these wires…he could see Smokescreen was trying desperately to stifle a yelp.
"Just…a little…more…" He muttered under his breath. "And…" He snipped another wire. Smokescreen let loose a grunt, his eyes flashing for a moment, and then fading impossibly dim, struggling against the restraints. Ratchet stopped, looking at the young bot. "Is everything all right?" He inquired. Smokescreen gave a faint nod, eyes shut tight. Ratchet nodded back, still a little concerned as he turned his attention back to his work. Smokescreen looked drained. Tired, in pain. His eyes were glazed with the suffering. The box moved a little. Smokescreen tensed, his teeth gritting, eyes flying open. Ratchet narrowed his eyes in concentration. And…
"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGHH!" Smokescreen let it all go. The screech split the air. Ratchet cringed, dropping the tool and slapping his servos over his audios, energon seeping through his fingers. The other Autobots did the same. It took a while for the screaming to cease. When the shrill cry stopped, Smokescreen tensed for a few moments from within the restraints as the box tumbled out of his chest. Then he slumped, limp, weak. His head was hung, his optics dim. They could just barely make out slow,
ragged, faint breaths. Ratchet stepped forward cautiously after a couple beats of silence.
"…Smokescreen…?" He whispered. Smokescreen let loose a soft groan.
"G-guys, we only have 2 minutes left," Bulkhead piped up nervously, keeping his gaze on the clock. Ratchet took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.
"I'll activate the ground bridge. You can take the…box…to that area. Make sure to dispose of it properly," Ratchet instructed, already finding a suitable location for the ground bridge.
"Me?" Bulkhead protested. Ratchet flipped the switch, activating the bridge.
"Just go and don't waste time," He snapped, gingerly placing the red cube in Bulkhead's hands. Bulkhead gave it an uncertain look, and then plodded into the glowing vortex. The Autobots turned back to Smokescreen. Smokescreen's condition was the same. He was still slumped miserably against the wall. Bulkhead suddenly returned at the moment, hands empty. "Did you…" Ratchet began. Bulkhead nodded grimly, not even waiting for him to finish. Ratchet nodded curtly, and walked over to Smokescreen and began patching up the metal.
The timer struck 0, and Knockout's face appeared, grim.
"Well…you've won this time. But don't even dare to think that this is the last time you'll see me. You have to watch out of being taken captive every time you're out of base. I've grown to like torturing Autobot captives, especially Smokescreen. Also watch out with Smokescreen. He might have some…issues." With that being said, he signed off. There was a strange silence. Ratchet looked back to Smokescreen. Smokescreen still didn't look any better.
"Smokescreen, do you know what he means by 'issues'?" Ratchet couldn't help but to inquire. Smokescreen slowly looked up to meet the Autobot's medic's eyes. Then, with a deep sorrow in his eyes, he shook his head. He was saying the truth. He really didn't know. Ratchet nodded back in understanding, and took off the restraints. Smokescreen looked like he was on the verge of collapsing as he stood solemnly, in silence. The young Autobot sighed. "Let's get you to your berth," Ratchet suggested. Smokescreen didn't answer, but allowed himself to be led by the orange and white mech. The rest of the team watched as the two entered the room.
"Is anyone else feeling edgy?" Arcee muttered. Bumblebee couldn't help but to bleep his agreement. "Smokescreen is in a condition where he is weakened. I suggest we leave him be and neglect to take him out into battle until he has recovered," Optimus Prime stated. Bulkhead sighed.
"I remember when Smoke first came," He mumbled. "He was so eager…now it's like we've lost that Smokescreen. After Knockout came around and scrambled his circuits, ripped off a couple limbs…now he's an entirely different guy," He continued. Arcee looked at her feet. She didn't know why, but she thought of Cliffjumper. She'd lost him, same with Tailgate. She hadn't lost Smokescreen's life…but she lost the Smokescreen she once knew. Who knew she had grown so used to his eagerness…she missed him, she realized. She genuinely wanted him back. Is this some kind of lesson? Arcee thought. Is Primus telling me I should appreciate what I have? She shook off the feeling. Bumblebee noticed this. He asked if she was okay.
"I-I'm fine," She said quickly. "Just…thinking." Arcee was silently relieved when they turned back to their own conversation. She turned her back on them, and surged forward, toward the door leading to where Smokescreen was. This time, she was going to keep a teammate.
Suddenly she bumped into Ratchet as he opened the door.
"What do you think you're doing here!?" He snapped.
"Seeing Smokescreen," Arcee replied defiantly,crossing her arms across her chest. Already she felt stupid. "Smokescreen needs to recharge," Ratchet growled. "You can't see him right now,"
"But it's important," Arcee retorted, glaring.
"Important? What's important right now is that Smokescreen gets his rest, not some little conversation on nothing," Ratchet said, exasperated. Arcee glared at him, then turned and walked off. She lost the argument this time.
Ratchet continued to the computer, checking frequencies and monitoring the Iacon database. Arcee glanced in his direction. For Cliffjumper, she silently thought to herself and snuck off to the room, typing in the access code on the pad.
The doors slid open, revealing a darkened room with weak lights on the ceiling. The room was devoid of much, except for a berth and a couple chairs, Cybertronian size. Smokescreen was still awake, sitting up on the berth. He looked rather surprised to see her. She silently drew closer. "Smokescreen, we need to talk," She whispered.

A/N Too dramatic? Anyone OOC? Have I used a word too many times? Opinions and advice welcome. Just...review for me, please? *Puss-in-Boot-eyes* XDDD Dancing all around the plot. Is a simple "I like it" too much too type for you all? Really, let me know you're there XD SOMEBODY GIMME A REASON TO WRITE