When the Autobot femme showed up in his office, Blitzwing was taken aback. He observed her cautiously while she stood in his open doorway, metal freshly polished, her chest unburdened by the Autobot sigil. She held in her delicate arms several data pads, likely to be physical reports from Knock Out, and waited patiently for the commander's approval to enter. Blitzwing merely nodded and returned to typing on his console. "I assume those are the bots who suffered injuries during the last spar."

"Yes, commander." Zephyr confirmed as she set them down on Blitzwing's desk. "Dura will likely not come out of spark support, he displays no brain activity, but the rest should be cleared to return after a solar cycle or so in recovery."

"Go ahead and pull the plug on Dura. His soul has departed while his body persists. No need to waste valuable resources on an empty vessel."

"I'll pass that on to Knock Out."

"No." Blitzwing then turned to face the femme again. She watched him closely with wide violet optics, her body tensed at his response. "I believe you are fit enough to do so yourself."

She licked her lips and brought in a shaky breath. "While Knock Out believes in hands-on learning, I'm not permitted to do something like that. That's a call for a physician to make."

The triple-changer couldn't help but smile at her smart and steady reply. Funny how stable she seemed face-to-face but behind closed doors he knew just how broken she truly was. Spending long nights sobbing into herself, choked for air, barely able to hold a conversation with her Autobot friends. Though, she continued to be compliant in providing information for Megatron and himself, even more so than before. It's as if her perspective had shifted and those tears were those of grief towards the life she once knew. Towards the betrayal.

"If you possess the potential I've heard, you may one day be Knock Out's equal. It's best you learn early on how to let go of someone still technically alive."

Zephyr's jaw tensed but she nodded. Blitzwing outranked Knock Out and even the head medic couldn't deny a commander his wishes. No matter how far out of protocol they were.

Blitzwing clicked off his console, the room darkened to near pitch black as he rounded the desk and past Zephyr. He grabbed Dura's data pad, handing it to the femme. "You'll need this to log his time of death."

"Okay." She answered weakly.

Blitzwing's private quarters were a comfortable walk from the hospital, so the pair didn't have to suffer in awkward silence for long. Zephyr kept herself a good distance behind the triple-changer though he could feel her optics on him as if they were burning holes through his metal. He didn't like knowing she was looking at him, but he ignored it as best he could, allowing her to pass as soon as they reached the hospital's convert wing to force her eyes away. "Take the lead," he said. "I'll observe."

She passed the commander a wary glance over her shoulder but continued on through the maze of berths partitioned by thin curtains. At the furthest corner of the ward laid a mech sprouting with tubes and cordage. A spark beat monitor ticked softly over the rhythmic puffing of a breathing machine. Zephyr swallowed as she rounded the table to the spark support's main control panel. Dura's vitals had stabilized, but one look at the status monitor showed there was still no brain activity. Thin rows of narrow lines where there should be ripples and waves. Neurologically, the mech was deceased. It was a practical response to remove his support, but still, the femme hesitated as guilt gripped at her spark.

Blitzwing watched her closely, hands clasped behind his back. There was a twitch of frustration tugging at his stomach, but he managed to shove it down and remain patient. She was a nurse, she was more familiar with death than many of the Cons throughout Kaon, but her overall goal was also to heal and provide care. To take a bot's life went against her training, her protocol. At least, while within the hospital walls.

The femme breathed in slowly through her nose while she checked over the mech's chart one last time. Blitzwing moved a little closer to read over her shoulder.

Designation: Dura

Orientation: Male

Age: 150

Alt Mode: Heavy Tanker - Non-treaded

Faction: Autobot Defect - Decepticon Initiate

Diagnosis: Respiratory and circulatory damage due to catastrophic impact while sparring in training. Treatment plan to include respiratory therapy, spark-support, hourly vital checks, and steady sedation. Make preparations for end of life should brain activity cease.

The commander looked over at the still breathing bot. His white livery scratched to raw pewter, one leg held up in a sling with both his arms in stabilizers. There was a divot in his chest where a bundle of tubes connected the bot to his spark support. Through them ran bright streams of energon and clear lines of hydration fluids. He was pathetic to see. Even if he pulled through he would be forever crippled.

Zephyr started clicking at the spark support controller, flicking switches one after another until she reached the final button. Her finger hovered over the switch, her silver metal reflecting its iridescent yellow. Dura was already on the downhill slope after cutting off his oxygen and energon, but the final button would stop the manual pumping of his spark. It was the only thing standing between him and reuniting with Primus.

"I suggest you do it before he starts to feel pain." Blitzwing suggested, though he kept his voice low, more understanding. "At this point it is mercy."

She flicked the button and the humming stopped. All the monitors cut off and the femme watched in mournful silence as his spark beat dropped to a steady line. She clicked on her chart then spoke softly. "Time of death: sixteen-fifteen."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Knock Out appeared through the door from the main hospital and stormed over to Blitzwing and his apprentice. "I did not clear that bot for termination!"

"He was brain dead," Blitzwing said. He held out an arm towards Zephyr, putting more of a wall between her and the irate physician. "Given her progress with you I saw this as the perfect learning opportunity."

"She is my apprentice and I will decide when she is ready for those steps!" Knock Out reached around to grab Zephyr and pulled her towards him, away from Blitzwing. The little femme looked close to bawling but only a couple distressed sniffs managed to escape. "To cut off a bot's spark-support is no small task and it certainly is no task for an apprentice!"

Blitzwing couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "She seemed to handle it just fine. You can't treat her like a sparkling, she has the experience so let her grow from it."

"She is not yet a physician, there are things she simply cannot do because it's a liability!" Knock Out spoke through gritted teeth, his hands firmly locked onto the femme's arms. "What if that bot was a Con with family? They could press charges for wrongful death!"

"But he wasn't." Blitzwing pointed out cooly. "Do you really believe I'm foolish enough to allow a recruit to medically take the life of a Decepticon?"

"I really have no idea what goes on in that twisted head of yours! A triple-changer should have no authority, your minds are far too scrambled to make wise decisions! I don't know what Lord Megatron was thinking when he appointed you."

The commander clenched his jaw, his fists balled at his sides. His core began to rapidly rise in temperature as his good optic stared down the vain medic.

Don't explode! You'll kill her and we need her— Lord Megatron needs her.

Just let that red eye-sore have it and we can deliver what's left to Breakdown in a box made of his plating!

Maybe it would be fun to tear Knock Out in half the way Lord Megatron did The False Prime!

Blitzwing didn't realize he had clasped his hands over his helm. He pushed hard against it as if the pressure would somehow shut up those intrusive voices, as if it would calm down the fire burning his spark, demanding to be released. His chest heaved with every breath in and out, his spark raced, the voices screamed until his world went black and the mech found himself staring into space, into a void of nothing.

Until he felt a touch on his chest.

His eye burst open to find himself laid in a private recovery room to the sound of nothing but a beeping spark-monitor. The voices were gone and his body had cooled. He dared to look at who was standing at the console beside the berth. It was Zephyr, her back to him while she typed quickly and carefully. The commander let out a quiet cough and she whirred around. They stared at each other a moment then she sat down on the berth beside him, the data pad containing his chart laid in her lap. "You don't handle stress well, do you?"

Blitzwing scoffed and looked away from her pitiful gaze. "I just have a temper."

"Pretty intense temper." She mused. He could hear her tapping on the pad then she sighed. "Do you hear voices?"

"Why?" Blitzwing narrowed his optic, again looking at the femme. This time it was her turn to avoid his stare.

She sighed. "Before you lost consciousness you kept saying 'Shut up!' 'Shut up!' Knowing what I know I assumed you weren't talking to myself or Knock Out."

The commander frowned, sitting up in the berth with effort. His body felt intensely heavy from all the medication being pumped into his veins. "Whether I do or not is none of your concern."

"I'm only asking as a medical professional. If you're hearing things we can pre—"

"I don't hear voices! Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, you stupid femme!" Blitzwing snarled, feeling himself growing hot again.

Zephyr flinched at his raised voice and cruel words. She quickly wiped her face before looking at him with a faux bright smile, standing up. "Of course, I'm sorry for overstepping, commander."

Nice one, smooth operator.

Should we get her flowers and apologize?

Maybe she has a degradation kink!

The triple-changer's chest rattled in an annoyed growl. He struggled to soften his tone. "When can I get out of here?"

"I'll send Knock Out." And then she left, quickly.

As the door hissed shut the mech waited a few clicks before sending his fist flying through the irritating beeping monitor.

Knock Out walked in shortly after Zephyr left, dismayed to find the room's spark-monitor in a heap of sparking wires. "Seriously?" He groaned and tossed his data pad on the console. "You know that's not cheap to replace."

"Not my problem." Blitzwing retorted, refusing to make eye-contact with the medic. "I'd like to leave."

"I'm sure you would, Blitzbrain, but I need to keep you overnight for observation. Whatever happened when you passed out strained your spark to near failure. I don't think Megatron would appreciate if I stood by and let you croak." The commander grumbled a few Cybertronian curses and crossed his arms tight over his chest. Knock Out watched him through his peripherals as he looked over Blitzwing's vitals. "I suppose now isn't the best time to mention that you have a visitor."

This pulled Blitzwing out of his silent pout. He glared at the medic in disbelief. "And who, pray tell, might that be?"

"Starscream." Knock Out said with a grin.

Blitzwing sneered. "What could he possibly want?"

"I'm sure he just wants to check on you, likely at the behest of Megatron." Knock Out held firm his knowing smile. Megatron had already seen Blitzwing while he was unconscious to check his status. Starscream's decision to visit was likely his own to make. He studied the commander's stiff body language. "Should I tell him to come back?"

Blitzwing groaned while he glared through the darkened window beside his berth. "Just send him in."

"If you insist." Knock Out teased. He clicked a few more times on the console before the holo screen flickered away. "I'll have Zephyr checking you every couple of hours. Try not to yell at her this time."

The triple-changer watched the physician leave, though the door didn't shut, it remained open for another to walk in and fill the silence. "I'm starting to think you like it here." Starscream jeered with that usual cockeyed smirk.

"Yes, the service is top notch." Blitzwing huffed, crossing his arms. He watched the seeker sit at a corner chair across from the berth, propping one leg on a knee. "What do you need?"

Starscream shrugged. "Just thought I'd see how you were doing. We haven't spoken since our little jaunt nearly left the compound a smoldering heap."

"Well I'm fine."

"Clearly."

That little laugh at the end nearly sent Blitzwing into another rage but he kept himself cool with even venting through his nose and out his mouth. It remained silent between the two for a few tense moments. Starscream watched Blitzwing with his helm resting against his fist, his expression mostly flat but attentive, as if he was waiting for Blitzwing to restart the conversation. Of course, Blitzwing was never that great a conversationalist.

"I heard you snap at Zephyr." Starscream said, finally breaking their silence.

"Why would someone mention that?"

"No, I mean I actually heard it." Starscream couldn't help but laugh. "You obviously don't realize how loud you are."

Blitzwing glared at his superior and said nothing.

"Oh, lighten up." Starscream leaned back in the chair, making himself more comfortable. "Though you might wanna avoid laying into her too much. She is part of the reason why you recovered so well from your outburst. Not even Knock Out knew how to treat you, but she did."

"Why?"

"I dunno, she took an interest in triple-changers when she was in school for whatever reason. Though she had never worked on one before you."

"Hmm."

"That, and, I think our valiant leader is starting to develop eyes for the little femme." Starscream walked over and sat on the berth so he could speak quieter. "He has her in his quarters quite a bit and was quick to approve her being assigned a specialty before she even passed orientation training."

Blitzwing wanted to laugh. He knew why she was always with Megatron, why their leader allowed her to specialize so early. Megatron merely wanted to soften her up to make her willing to give up more Autobot intel than initially agreed. It was all a matter of strategy, and somehow Starscream remained out of the loop of it all. The idea brought a tingling satisfaction to the ailed Decepticon. "That is awfully suspicious." Is all Blitzwing said.

The Seemer narrowed his optics at his fellow commander. "You know what's going on, don't you?"

"Possibly, but it's classified and when you need to know, you will."

"I'm his second-in-command, I should be one of the first to know if he's strategizing!" Starscream's playful tone vanished, and he found himself glaring in anger.

Blitzwing waved off his comrade's irritation. "It's not that serious, I'll assure you that. Megatron is trying to keep this as low-key as possible just to avoid word spreading. Don't take it personally. Only reason I'm involved was because it was my idea to begin with."

The Seeker considered his comrade's explanation, his optics darting across Blitzwing's face, looking for any sign of falsehood, but he relaxed after only a moment. "Fine, I'll trust that's all it is."

The triple-changer remained silent as he laid his head down to stare at the ceiling. He could still see Starscream watching him, but for once he didn't mind.