Chapter 2
Eskhara

AN: Due to popular demand for the sequel, I made a second chapter for this story. I won't promise that it's good or bad, but it is still mentioning few sensitive material like trauma and self-harm.

Viewer discretion is still advised. Read and Enjoy at your own risk.

Trying to convince Strongarm that Knock Out is his old friend took longer than he had expected, but at least both Sideswipe and Grimlock didn't ask about his judgments as they both understand that their said 'target' is not fit to be placed in the cold capsule.

Bumblebee had a few beefs with Fixit; whether if he was aware he was housing mechs and femmes that has mental issues and classify them as criminals or wasn't aware of the dark secret that Alchemore had kept. Fixit's horrifying shock to the marred and scarred mech had given him enough clues that it was one of the latter as he patched his friend up on the medical berth they had scavenged from the broken Alchemore.

Knock Out had calmed down, which was a good relief for the yellow mech, since he wasn't keen on letting his old friend go as he felt Knock Out relax against him and shut down; possibly by either Energon loss or malnourishment. He was gladder that Steeljaw didn't lift his servo onto Knock Out (that would be screaming more trouble) yet.

As his old friend slept, Bumblebee took his time to study the Ex-con's body. While patched to help stop the bleeding, he couldn't help, but traced the scars around the arm, trying to imagine what Knock Out had gone through.

Knock Out, confident, sarcastic and proud of his own paint job had been one of his great friends next to Predaking and Megatron after the Great War. While the others had withered and taken by the Death's time, Knock Out was the only one still with him through thick and thin. While older than him, Knock Out didn't let his age detour him.

Knock Out was also the anchor in Cybertron when Bumblebee felt alone and all of his friends were busy with life. Knock Out may be the only Medic and Undertaker for the Cybertron during its revival; he still took his time to visit Bumblebee and just drive together.

Bumblebee found himself clouded in a swirl of memories; the places they hang out to, the banter they takes, the rush of adrenaline they share as they race each other, the comfort they share, and the loss they share. It felt like it was them who were against the Cybertron world, as they stood together in the lime light of Crystal City, where they had last seen each other.

When Knock Out had disappeared that next day, Bumblebee had thought that Knock Out had went to his own errands until it had been days where he began to worry and had asked them where his friend went.

They told him that Knock Out had died.

Died.

Bumblebee still remembered how painful his spark felt when he heard that word; his only friend that he shared secrets with were gone, his only anchor-gone. He still remembered how he mourned and mourned for his old friend, begging them to let him see his old friend for just one last time.

They didn't let him.

Instead, they assured him that he is in the better place with Primus and had lightly pushed him back into the society of Cybertron that had been flourished through time. And Bumblebee had believed them, working for the street cop to help distract from his loss.

But now, Knock Out is here, more alive than ever, but had changed. The scars tell many stories of pain and torture and Bumblebee can tell that Knock out had been self-inflicting himself long time ago. How long, he wasn't sure and he was afraid for the answer, the terrifying truth that made Bumblebee think in the area of 'what ifs'.

If only he had been with him that day before his disappearance. If only he had been quick enough to save his friend. If only he had fought more against them to find his friend. If only he hadn't believed them.

Bumblebee, trying to look for distractions away from his thoughts, looked at the scratches on Knock Out's armor, seeing grimes and dirt covering Knock Out's once beautiful armor. Maybe he'll help Knock Out clean? Knock Out would surly love a good bath after he woke up from his slumber.

Knock Out twitched, as he lay mobile on the medical berth, sometimes mumbling coherent words. Bumblebee gave a gentle squeeze to his old friend's scarred servo, hoping it would assure the ex-Con that his old friend is here. However, despite how gentle he squeezed his friend's servo, he felt Knock Out whimper as he was stuck in his own nightmare that he won't be able to see.

His spark broke down.

"It's going to be okay," Bumblebee hushed, as he felt nauseous feeling creeping up to his throat and helm, lubricant falling like fallen stars, "Everything is going to be okay."

But is it?