A/N: I'm giving this chapter a slight Trigger Warning. There are mentions of off-screen rape.
Well slag. I just now realized that Starscream left the Decepticons two episodes before "Stronger, Faster". We're just going to ignore that…
Again: Trigger Warning for this chapter!
The last two days had been nightmarish. As a fellow medic, Knock Out had done what he could to ease the pain and prevent further seizures but there was only so much that could be done under a tyrant's gaze. After their first awkward conversation, the two had spoken little. Most talk was limited to that of synthetic energon, or convincing Ratchet to work on the Synth-En, that is. Ratchet had finally agreed to work with Knock Out, but only once the other had threatened him in various ways.
"Hand me that laser scalpel. 2A." Ratchet handed over the requested tool, examining how the other's hands were buried in an eradicon's chest. The drone groaned. Knock Out had explained, to Ratchet's horror, that supplies were not to be wasted on simple soldiers, via Meagtron's orders, despite the gleam of disgust in his own optics.
"It'll scar if you weld it that way," Ratchet observed.
"And it will get done faster," Knock Out countered. His loyalty to Megatron was shaky at best but his own vanity kept him following orders; several scratches to his paint as punishment the previous day had left him severally shaken and upset.
"No sympathy for a drone's paint job?" Ratchet handed the Decepticon another tool as he stuck out a clawed hand for one.
"It disgusts me, but I value my own life enough to not bother making them perfect. You'd be wise to do the same." With a huff, Ratchet snatched the scalpel from the other. He shoved him aside, making sure to be careful about Knock Out's precious paint, and began to weld the wound himself. The mech beneath him startled before relaxing into the breth. Within seconds the tear in the metal was closed and smoothed out.
"Least you can do is finish quickly," He paced the tools on the tray next to him and whipped his energon stained hands on a cloth. Knock Out examined the weld, his eyebrows rising in amazement.
"You're still shaking," He observed, "How did you do that so smoothly?" He skimmed his thumb along the seam before running a sanitizing agent down it.
"I worked as a field medic," Ratchet snapped, as if that was all the explanation the situation needed. Knock Out shrugged, moving to clean up. The moment Knock Out turned his back, Ratchet extended a small needle from his index finger inserting it into the eradicon's main energon line and pumping in some of his own supply of pain killer. The drone relaxed, his optics shuttering. Ratchet allowed himself to slump on his stool as the 'con fell into recharge.
"Your shoulder must not be hurting much for you to give that stuff to drones." Ratchet jumped as the other spoke, startled by his ability to know what the Autobot was doing behind his back. As the white medic opened his mouth to retaliate the medbay intercom crackled to life. Both bots looked questioningly at the ceiling.
"Knock Out," Megatron's voice boomed, "Please fetch Starscream from his quarters; he could use some touching up." The medic placed down a newly polished tool, no longer paying a great amount of attention.
"I am slightly preoccupied at the moment, My Lord," Knock Out hummed, "But I will send Breakdown to get him."
"Very well," Megatron growled, obviously unhappy with even the slightest change in plans. The comm. link clicked off. Ratchet glanced questioningly at Knock Out as he touched his finial to contact his partner.
"You'll see," was his only response. Using the aid of an overhead machine, Ratchet guided the limp eradicon from the operation table, placing him on a berth in the back of the room. Walking had become difficult, but still possible. How he wished for that cane now. With a grunt, he fell back into his chair.
With a hiss, the medbay doors slid open, revealing a limping Starscream, an arm slung over Breakdown's massive shoulder. The 'con practically threw the seeker on the berth before stomping out. Ratchet did not miss the passing glace of frustration and loneliness the former wrecker threw his partner. Ratchet rolled his optics and turned to examine the seeker.
Being a trained medic had its disadvantages at points. With just a glance, the old bot could tell exactly how most injuries were acquired. Ratchet gagged. Starscream's were not battle won. He was covered from helm to pede in scratches and dents, some leaking energon while others simply sent off small sparks of electricity. The main denting was concentrated about his hips and thighs. The seeker's helm piece was bent to the point of nearly snapping off, and his faceplates were stained with coolant. Ratchet's gaze drifted to the mech's thighs. His legs were clamped shut but dried transfluid still clung to the surrounding metal.
Ratchet glanced at Knock Out who only waved him on. The Autobot nodded back, grabbing up a clean cloth to whip the seeker down with.
"Do not touch me, Autobot," Starscream hissed as a hand was placed on his thigh.
"I'm only helping," Ratchet mumbled, frowning as his hand was batted away.
"You're dirtying me." Starscream groaned as he attempted to pull himself further up the berth. Ratchet huffed and rolled his chair closer.
"You obviously don't mind dirtying yourself, Decepticon." Starscream rammed a bleeding fist into the metal of the berth, denting it.
"How dare you! You think I want this?" He gestured to his beaten form. The metal of his code piece was bent upwards, forcing it to remain open. Ratchet sighed, realizing his mistake.
"You mean…" He began but cut himself off before the words could do any further damage. It was less of a question but his voice hitched enough to make it appear as one. The seeker turned his head away, attempting to hide it in the berth. Ratchet's expression hardened. He swung his stool around to the side of the berth.
"Open," He commanded, tapping at the seeker's chest plate. The other's vents hitched. No plating moved. "Open," Ratchet repeated, "Don't make me force a medical override." Reluctantly, his chest plates slid open; white light bathed the room as his pulsing spark was exposed. The medic had to fight to keep from gasping. Blackened tendrils of energy swirled about the faintly pulsing spark, remains of forced merges. The once pure white spark was nearly coated in the foul taint.
"I'm putting you under," Ratchet mumbled, reaching for a sedative. Knock Out turned from his place hunched over the computer. "He needs surgery," The Autobot answered before the question could be asked. Starscream twitched in alarm, attempting to fight the sedatives invading his systems. Ratchet simply ignored him, grabbing tools from a nearby tray.
"What for?" Knock Out snapped, grabbing Ratchet's arm. The white mech ripped it away.
"You haven't checked his chamber, have you?" Ratchet snapped, blue optics ablaze and entire body shaking. "Our agreement was that I get to save those you wouldn't and I would help you. That's what I'm doing. He's only going to last a few vorn with that level of contaminates leaching from his spark." Knock Out stomped down a pede.
"We can't just perform surgery. Megatron must be notified beforehand. And who says I wouldn't save him." Ratchet ignored him, moving to secure the seeker's spark chamber with a clamp. Knock Out ripped the tool from his hand. Ratchet's fist followed, slamming into the side for Knock Out's face with a clang.
The Decepticon froze, a hand on his check. Energon trickled from the space between his fingers. Ratchet took the opportunity to lung for the clamp. Years of battle training allowed Knock Out to react and block the medic. Ratchet's strength failed him and he tumbled to his knees.
"Guards!" The door rushed open, emitting two vehicons. Breakdown was close to follow. The vehicons pulled Ratchet to his feet, blasters pointed at his chassis. The Autobot relented, sagging into their grasp. Breakdown pulled his partner's hand away from his faceplates, inspecting the damage. They exchanged several glances, a silent conversation that ended with the ex-wrecker pulling the other into a strong hug. Finally the two broke apart, Breakdown moving across the room to retrieve solvent and a cloth to ten to Knock Out while the medic addressed the vehicons holding Ratchet. The Autobot glared.
"Take him to the bridge," He snarled, "and send for Megatron. He'll want to deal with him personally." Knock Out stooped until he was face to face with the white mech, his vents hissing over his frame. "You would do well to remember that you are a prisoner, not a medic, upon this vessel. You follow my orders without question, and do not think me a friend." Ratchet made no move to resist as the vehicons dragged him from the medbay. It took them a moment to realize that he could not walk of his own power but they eventually decided to heft him along by his shoulder armor. The moment the doors closed Breakdown huffed, forcing Knock Out onto the berth next to the still unconscious Starscream. He dabbed at the sports car's faceplate, cleaning it of drying energon. More leaked out with every dab.
"Your paintjob mostly survived," He commented absently, surprised that the other hadn't began one of his vain rants yet. He stopped to examine Knock Out's forlorn expression. "Babe?" He cooed, worry lacing his tone, "Babe, what's wrong?" Knock Out sighed, batting Breakdown's hand away to glance at the seeker at his side.
"He's right," He mumbled, causing his partner to cock his head in confusion, "Screamer won't last long without treatment. But Megatron's already made it clear that operating is out of the question." Breakdown pulled Knock Out into another hug, allowing him to snuggle into his platting.
"Wanna go for a drive?" He whispered into his partner's pointed audio. Knock Out made no indication that he intended to move.
"I wish," He snorted, "But our Lord will want to speak with me and I have to finish patching Screamer up."
"Fine." Breakdown snuggled into Knock Out's neck. "After, then." The red mech simply chuckled, pulling away much to Breakdown's dismay, to look over the injured seeker. He tapped at the medical lock on the inside of his spark chamber and it slid shut. Breakdown handed him the spark support lines when he reached for them. After everything had been hooked up and repolished, Knock Out fell into a chair at his desk. Breakdown simply meandered about, cleaning this and that, checking on the vehicon in the corner and continuously rearranging supplies. He finally settled for polishing his hammer.
Knock Out smirked. His partner had a habit of acting as such when he was bored but reluctant to leave.
"You know you can go," He murmured, never turning from his notes on the synthetic energon, "I'll catch up when I'm done." A clatter echoed about the room as Breakdown replaced the tools he'd been using. Suddenly, his head was on Knock Out's shoulder and his arms hung about his neck.
"Don't wanna," He touched his face plate to Knock Out's check. The medic swiveled to return the kiss.
"You're cuddly today," He observed, "Not that I'm objecting, but what's wrong?" Breakdown huffed, peeved at being called out.
"Does something have to be wrong for me to see you?" The medic placed a claw to his lips and hummed as if he needed to consider his answer.
"Yes." He spoke abruptly, a smirk engulfing his features. Breakdown shoved his chair with his foot, sending him gliding a few feet away.
"I don't like the Autobot." Knock Out nodded. That's what he'd thought.
"Nor do I," He assured, "but once we worm the formula from him, he'll be out of our plating." Breakdown sighed in relent, still looking upset. The medic crossed his arms, "Though, in all honesty, if I can convince Megatron to return him to the Autobots it may end up more beneficial for us.
"Oh?" Both mechs turned, bowing their heads and stuttering out greetings as Megatron's hulking form entered the room. "It came to my attention that you'd had some trouble dealing with our guest," He gestured to the now sealed crack in Knock Out's helm, "But it seems that can wait. Would you care to enlighten me to your oh so brilliant plan?" Knock Out stuttered for a moment before composing himself.
"Of course, Lord Megatron," He stood, adding a flourish to the bow. He'd had enough damage done to his frame for one solar cycle. "As I've informed you, the Autobot is very sick and won't last long. He'd only be a burden to the Autobots cause, but they'd still be more than willing to barter for him. We may be able to get something out of it, while they'd only get a dying bot." Megatron placed a hand on his hip plating.
"Your proposal is sound but what of your progress on my formula?" Knock Out cued up the file containing the data. This was simply for show as he knew it would make little sense to anyone without an extensive background in biology and chemistry.
"We've made some progress in stabilizing the formula but Ratchet is reluctant to help. He has little concern for his own well being but I've found that by threatening the well being of a patient, I can get him to work for a cycle or two." Megatron's brow rose threateningly.
"You've been using my soldiers to sway him?" Knock Out cringed, "Very creative." The medic unshuttered his optics. Had that been a compliment? From Megatron? Suddenly the war lord's face dropped. Perhaps not. "But a cycle of work is not sufficient. I need that formula from him."
"The compound's incomplete, My Lord," Knock Out stuttered taking a step back. "Ratchet had yet to complete it. We're doing our best."
"You honestly believe," Megatron hissed, matching the other's step, "that the esteemed Autobot medic would test an incomplete formula on himself?" The red 'con sunk down into himself as he realized his mistake. "Are you so gullible that you would allow an Autobot to deceive you, a Decepticon?" His eyebrows rose dangerously high. Knock Out bowed as low as he could, deciding he was beyond the point of dignity.
"What do you suggest I do, My Lord?" Before either could react, a hand closed about Knock Out's neck. The sports car gagged, gripping Megatron's wrists, instinctively trying to pry him off. The grip only tightened. The sickening crunch of metal echoed about the otherwise silent room.
"Megatron!" Breakdown grabbed the war lord's arm, attempting to free his struggling mate. Megatron simply knocked him back.
"You have something to say, Breakdown?" Knock Out whimpered as he tightened his grip again. The blue mech stepped back at the pleading look in his mate's eyes.
"N-no," He stuttered, "My apologies, Master." Megatron studied the other for a moment before dropping the medic. Breakdown rushed to his side. He gasped and sputtered in his mate's arms, his form shaking and optics shut tight. Breakdown simply held him, rocking back and forth slightly. The Decepticon leader leaned in close.
"Figure it out," He hissed. Knock Out nodded franticly after the leaving mech. The red medic buried his face in Breakdown's chassis, and sobbed.
The Autobot medic couldn't help the gasp of air that escaped his vents as he made contact with the cell wall. A cackle followed. A two fingered hand landed on his shoulder, digging into the plating. Ratchet hissed.
"If you ever hurt the commander," He breathed in his audio. The second vehicon cut in.
"Leave him be, Steve," He called, "Megatron wants him unharmed." The grip remained.
"I didn't harm Starscream," Ratchet chocked out, prying his optics open to glare into the drone's visor slit. "I was trying to save him. He won't last long with what your Lord," He spat the title like spoiled high-grade, "does to him." Finally, the clawed servo retreated as the other pulled Steve back. Ratchet sighed, letting himself relax into the floor when the cell door slammed closed. As long as he was alone, he was safe. With a groan, he clutched his shoulder. The ach had returned from the burn. It sent a tingling through his spine. His back strut was weak, as the weld had yet to fully heal. It hurt like Pit and wasn't helping his inability to walk correctly.
"Hurting, Autobot?" The voice caused his head to snap up. Megatron's red optics glared at him through the energy field protecting the cell. "You may have fooled my medic, but not me. One way or another, I will have that formula." Ratchet shivered at the inflection in his tone. He had the sickening feeling he knew what was coming. "Now do you wish to save yourself the agony of interrogation or simply endure it?" Ratchet pulled himself up against the wall, his arms nearly giving out in the process.
"As I've already told your medic, I never finished the formula." Megatron glared, his amusement quickly fading.
"And you expect me to believe that you tested an incomplete formula on yourself?"
"I made a mistake-," Megatron slammed a fist against the energy field, effectively causing the medic to startle.
"We'll see how you feel after a cycle with Soundwave." The communications officer stepped forward. "Have fun, my loyal servant." With that, Megatron left the brig, leaving the prisoner and his would be interrogator alone. Soundwave entered the cell, silent as ever. His covered optics turned to meet Ratchet's. The dark screen flashed as he activated a voice clip.
"Save yourself the agony of interrogation." Ratchet spat, spewing oral lubricants on the mech's pedes.
"Do your worst." Soundwave nodded, approaching with confident strides. Cables snaked from his chest and consumed the Autobot before them.
The base was quiet, as most of its occupants were out, except for the muffled whine of the central computer. Bathing in the warmth emitted by the technology sat the young Autobot scout and his charge. Rafael glanced up from his laptop to watch Bumblebee, who held a data pad containing cybertronian legends. The bot would often read the text to the human, for though Raf could understand the beeps and whirrs that made up the cybertronian dialect, he could not read the complex language. How he could do even that had yet to be determined.
Slowly, the three fingered hand holding the book slid into Bumblebee's lap, though his gaze remained where it was. Rafael suspected that he was never actually reading in the first place. He placed a hand on his companion's larger one, drawing his attention. The bot clicked questioningly.
"Wanna' go for a drive?" The scout shook his head, emitting a sound similar to rain. "Still?" Raf raised a surprised eyebrow, "Guess that nixes that idea." He stared longingly at his companion, wishing desperately that he could ease the pain. Finally he gave into the bot's wills, no matter how counterproductive they were. "You're wanting to watch the monitors, aren't you?" Bumblebee nearly knocked Raf to the floor in his rush to reach the monitoring station. The scout had been watching the blank tracking systems piously from the moment he was deemed fit for duty. Each hour that Ratchet's signal did not reappear only served to dash his spirits. And yet it was the only hope he had. The others did not have the heart to take that from the young mech. Anyway, someone had to do the task.
Bee clicked in disappointment when the tracking systems came up empty yet again. Raf placed a hand on the exposed plating of his pede, tugging to be let up. The bot lifted him to his shoulder, where the human sat comfortably. He patted the bot's shoulder in what he hopped was a reassuring manner.
"The alarm's on, Bee," Raf comforted, "We'll know if anything changes. Let's get lunch and watch some TV. There's nothing we can do right now." Bee nodded, reluctant. His tank was low anyway. He strode to the energon dispenser, placing Rafael before the humans' fridge before pouring himself a half cube of energon. The taste was pure as ever, running smoothly down his scared intakes. Ratchet had built the refinery to perfection from simple scrap the human government had provided them with. He'd fought with the unrefined materials, unfamiliar tools, and confined work area. Bumblebee couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of the tantrums he'd thrown. Optimus had ban him from work for a bream after one of his thrown tools had nearly smashed a human worker.
The silence of his memory was interrupted by a sharp, almost painful beep. The cube of energon clattered to the floor, sloshing in every direction. Rafael had to jump back to avoid the burning liquid. In an instant, Bumblebee was at the computer. A flashing red dot had appeared on the US-Canadian border. Ratchet's physical statues blinked a warning red off to the side. Every aspect of it was worryingly low.
The comm. button was jammed fiercely into the consol. Bumblebee whirred and clicked franticly, not waiting for a conformation before he began.
Optimus' weary voice boomed back. "Slow down, Bumblebee. Where is the signal?" Bumblebee clicked out a response. "Ground bridge me back to base." As he spoke, Raf was already entering the proper coordinates into the ground bridge central computer. A blinding flash of light signaled its activation. Within seconds, Optimus' large frame appeared.
"Rafael," He ordered, already turning back towards the bridge, "bridge Bumblebee and I to Ratchet's location, then the others back to base. Retain an open comm. and contact June. Have them prep medbay." The boy nodded, doing as he was told. The Autobot's thundering footsteps faded from the confines of the base.
The Nemesis was quiet, the halls deserted. Quickly, both Optimus and his scout slipped around the next corner. If Ratchet was injured, which by the signal's sudden appearance he most likely was, it would do best not to draw attention to themselves.
Bumblebee gripped the scanner tighter in his hands, pointing in the indicated direction. Optimus nodded, trusting the scout to lead the way. A noise caused them to stop, pressing themselves to the ship wall. Two vehicons rounded the corner, neither passing in the bots' direction.
"-slagged Knock Out good," The first seemed pleased with the assumption, "Did you see the look on his face. He couldn't believe someone had the brass bearings to punch him." The two stopped, taking a moment to simply converse.
"What do you think he meant about the Commander?" The second vehicon mumbled.
"You still hung up on that?" He smacked the other's shoulder. "Feel free to go back and ask him, but I'm not going. I'm not keen on being anywhere near Soundwave when he's doing an interrogation." Bumblebee glanced at Optimus who silently returned the look. There was little doubt as to whom they were referring.
"Uh-Uh," The other stuttered, "No way. I've seen the aftermath of his torture sessions. I'd rather not see it in action." He chuckled nervously. A bang caused both to startle. Bumblebee clamped a hand over his faceplates to keep from shirking at the sound.
"What the slag are you two doing standing around!" An eradicon, evidently a superior, appeared behind the others. Both snapped to attention. "Get back to your posts." He clapped his hands threateningly. "Quickly, quickly." They dashed off without a second thought. The eradicon huffed, puffing out his chest and dusting himself off. The moment he turned his back, his focus on a control panel in the wall, Optimus motioned for Bee to follow. The scout, however, miss calculated his step. His foot clanged softly on the wall at his back. The drone turned. Optimus shoved the scout back against the wall, none too gently. Quiet steps followed, edging around the corner. Both bots did their best to muffle their nervous vents. As the startled face of the eradicon peeked about the corner, it did little good.
Before the drone could react, Optimus lunged. His hands wrapped about the drone's head, giving a sharp twist and cleanly snapping his back strut where it connected to his neck cabling. He feel limp to the ground, paralyzed and unconscious but still very much alive.
Quickly the two darted, dashing about the next corner and down the winding halls. The lighting grew bleaker the closer they got to the brig, as little power was spared for prisoners. Optimus stopped Bumblebee before he could pry the door open. There were no guards outside, which suggested that there was at least one on the inside. He motioned for the scout to stay behind him. Together they braced for the door to open. When it did, a rather surprised Soundwave stared back.
Optimus brought a fist forward, his knuckles nicking the plating of Soundwave's jaw. The Decepticon dodged a second blow, his arm blocking the ferocious lung. The third strike connected directly with the mask-like screen covering Soundwave's face. The glass shattered, shards piercing the soft metal beneath.
Soundwave wailed, emitting sound not dissimilar to the one's Bumblebee commonly made, and brought both servos up to cover his face. He had little time to react as Bumblebee's foot slammed into his chest, knocking him into the far wall. He stood for a moment, back against the cold metal of the Nemesis, his legs shaking. Finally, his strength gave out and he tumbled to the ground, his optics dimming to black. Bee bounced where he stood, fists raised, evidently pleased with himself. Optimus placed a hand on his shoulder, signaling him to remain quiet. Once he did, the Prime pointed to the ground. The scout did as he was instructed, turning to keep watch.
Optimus moved surprisingly quickly and silently for his bulk. He dashed about the brig hall, checking each of the cells as he passed. Each empty cell only served to dash he's hopes further, and caused his tanks to clench a little tighter. He would have called out for Ratchet but was worried the cells were bugged. Though, if he did not find the other quickly, it may have become necessary.
Optimus stopped suddenly when he reached the last cell. "Ratchet," He breathed. With a simple tap, the energy field about the cell dissipated. Prime eased in, careful not to startle the half conscious medic. Ratchet hung by his wrists a pace from the far wall, his knees barely scrapping at the ground. His plating was dented and scratched, leaking energon in several places. Most of his armor was intact. His chest platting had been ripped off, exposing the mess of circuitry underneath but his spark chamber remained firmly sealed. The Prime fumbled nervously with the cuffs binding his friend's wrists.
"Prime?" Ratchet's voice was filled with popping static. His vents wheezed, attempting to expel the soot that had built up in his wiring. Optimus eased a hand out of the cuff, helping the bot down from the wall.
"I'm here, Ratchet." The medic gripped desperately at Optimus, his fingers latching wherever they could in his chest plating. He was shaking so badly that whenever he found purchase, his hands slipped free. The big-rig pulled him close, cradling his smaller frame. "Ratchet, we need to go," He whispered, "Can you walk?" Ratchet quickly composed himself, pushing Optimus away and attempting to stand. Optimus slipped an arm under his shoulder and helped him to his feet. Once the other was stable enough, Optimus pressed a finger to his finial. "Base, do you read? We are in need of a bridge."
"We read you, Optimus." Bulkhead's voice crackled over the comm. link, "But there's some interference near you, we can't get a lock."
"Understood," Ratchet shifted in Optimus' grip, "We'll move into the hall and see if the signal is better." Prime pulled Ratchet along, helping his sluggish legs forward.
"Optimus," Ratchet breathed, "Any faster and I'm going to glitch." The Prime grunted in acknowledgment, considering simply picking Ratchet up and carrying him. However, the sudden movement may only cause more harm than good.
Ratchet's sudden cry of pain, as he collapsed to the ground, slipping from Optimus' grasp, ripped him from his determined concentration. Prime whirled, facing the attacker. Soundwave collapsed against the wall again, his blaster arm clattering to the ground. Ratchet gasped out pained moans as his arms flailed for purchase on the cold ground, delirious from pain. Wasting no time, Optimus grabbed him by the waist, careful to avoid his laser scorched back, and slung him over a shoulder, dashing from the brig. Ratchet groaned, biting down on a servo to stifle the sound. Optimus had little time for sympathy, though each pained gasp split his spark further, as he barreled up the brig hall. Bumblebee jumped as he shoved past but quickly followed when he caught sight of Prime's cargo. Bee tapped Ratchet's hand when he reached out, reassuring him of his presence.
"Prime?!" The panicked voice blasted over the comm., "What the slag is happening, you're moving too fast to get a lock on with all the interference. Ratchet's signal is going crazy."
"We need a bridge, Bulkhead!" Optimus shouted over approaching footsteps, "Now!" On cue one appeared, though on the opposite side of the long corridor. Optimus turned, checking that Bumblebee was still at his rear. To his surprise, so was Knock Out.
"Wait!" He shouted, reaching for the Autobots. Ratchet banged furiously on Optimus' shoulder, causing him to pause. The red sports car held out a case. "Here," He panted, "There's a copy of all the progress we made on Synth-En inside and a batch of meds I've been giving him to control the seizures." Raising a brow, Optimus reached for the box in the other's hand. Knock Out pulled it back before he could grab it. "On one condition."
"Quickly," Optimus ground out. In the moment it gave him, he shifted Ratchet into a more comfortable position, holding him in his arms instead of over his shoulder. The medic was now in and out of lucidity.
"The cons are falling apart. When that happens, I want asylum, for both Breakdown and I." Optimus nodded.
"As long as you mean no harm, you will have it." Knock Out placed the box on Ratchet's stomach, who was aware enough to hold onto it. Footsteps echoed in a nearby hall. The cherry red mech glanced apprehensively behind him.
"Ratchet?" He breathed, leaning in close, "Whatever happened to First Aid?" Ratchet stared for a moment, his mind catching up to the question. Despite the urgency of the situation, Optimus felt it was important that the older bot was the one who answered.
"Gone," Ratchet rasped, attempting to keep his shaky voice as steady as possible, "I couldn't save him." Knock Out's face fell. Some part of him had hoped that at least one piece of his life before the war remained.
Voices echoed down the halls. "Signal's coming from this wing!" Optimus gave Knock Out one last grateful look before disappearing into the ground bridge.
A/N: Thank you greatly to everyone that has reviewed. I look forward to hearing from you all. It honestly is one of the brightest points of my week.
Also, the next four weeks consists of an extremely time intensive animation project. I'll probably be moving posts from every week to every other week.