[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Waiting Game [ Closed| Flatline]

[Breakdown]

Week 4 | Day 7

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The sound over that comm had been what had gotten Breakdown unnerved more than anything. He would have gone out himself if it were just Starscream at the helm since he could come up with an excuse for that. With Megatron back, it made things more complicated. Sure, he could still go out, but the reasoning for it could really put him in a hit-or-miss situation. Going out to chase after Knock Out over a possible issue that was caused by his doing probably wouldn't sit too well with their Glorious Ruler.

He'd just have to figure it out on the fly. If there was something wrong, Breakdown wouldn't be able to live with himself if he just sat around waiting instead of going out there and doing something. 

His spark wouldn't be able to take it. 

For the moment he had to limit the amount of time he was out and about, so he had to see if he could narrow down the places Knock Out could have gone. His first option was Flatline- the two had been getting along really well lately, so maybe their medic had given him a heads up on where he was sneaking off to ( or looking into, cause who knows.. Maybe Knock Out had a justified reason for being out there for once? ).

He waited outside the Medical Bay for Flatline, knowing better than to go marching to intercept him at the assembly hall directly. If Megatron happened to see him after not appearing before him for his little campfire gathering to welcome him back, that would cause more problems. So he just paced back and forth, still trying to contact Knock Out on their private channel and getting hit with mixed emotions the longer he went without a response.

[Flatline]

"There will be no room for uncertainty when we strike and dire consequences await those who would threaten our unity. Be they Autobot, human—or Decepticon."

Flatline did well to remain within the grouping as others filtered out. No rush... No hurry... Not drawing attention his way if he was able to get away with it. He wanted to mesh inside as best as he could, so Megatron's gaze did not linger on him or see him trying to flee the area. He didn’t NEED more focus his way, when he was already playing with borrowed time here. Every minute from this point on was a gift of sorts because of what he had done to the Nemesis, and he had to treat it as such. Though, it wasn't as if he could leave to try to avoid the looming shadow of death, nor really enjoy anything at all for final days, so he had to try to focus on other things.

Breaking from a shaky walk to a more decisive stride, Flatline's speed would ramp up some as he left the immediate area the moment he was no longer in Megatron's line of sight. The jog hurt. Of course it did. Each time his injured leg struck down, the impact shuddered through the assembly with pain that he typically sought to avoid in any way he was able. He had to move fast however, trying to push on until it was too much and his leg buckled, a palm swinging out to catch his fall, before he grit his teeth and hefted up again, rounding the corner.

Where he saw Breakdown.

Flatline didn't tend to be on great terms with Breakdown. They tolerated one another it seemed, tied together by the obnoxious anchor that was Knock Out... but if the black and red mech didn't HAVE to be working within the same area? Then he would choose to avoid the brute and could go the rest of his days without laying optics upon him again and be happy.

Even just looking upon that sickening one eyed face caused his knee to ache further than it already did from his momentary run, remembering the pain, remembering his struggle to try to get away... So much of that incident was a blur to him, the disease ripping through his frame like a wildfire that burned at all his senses. Yet, he remembered him. He remembered the way he so callously punched his knee backwards to dislodge the entire hinge assembly into two pieces, and remembered what it felt like for the inner struts to bend. An over energetic attempt to just slow him from being able to escape.

There were so many better options in Flatline's opinion. So many things that could have been done instead. But no. Punch problems out of existence was this mech's MO, and because of it, just seeing him boiled up the bottled hate.

The top of Flatline's lip flicked up as he approached, his hurried gate tapering off to a dipped limp as the clicking snap of his cane striking the ground entered the equation once again. He was absolutely seething, his free hand wrenching up to point a bladed finger at the other mech in a flippant motion.

"Where WERE you!?"

He thought Breakdown would be off with Knock Out since they were both missing from the assembly. The little duo found something in one another that Flatline didn't fully understand, but he respected it for what it was. What he expected in turn however, was that if each were missing from the biggest war meeting in ages, that they would be with one another either not hearing the call to order, or off having fun to avoid the possible raucous... or, acting as dismissive children who didn’t want to get bumped because oh so perfect Knock Out could get a little scrape.

The idea they would both 'conveniently' miss the call was too farfetched.

Due to his hate against the other mech, Flatline was keen to flow into anger and stress first, his words snarled hisses that held a pointed edge. Perhaps he should be worried, Breakdown seen without Knock Out in these circumstances, but he was momentarily blinded by the sight of the individual who took away his ability to walk. No longer able to lay out large projects of parts organized into place to evaluate and step around them with care... No longer able to even sit down for hours on end without it being painful to stand...

A creak sound formed between his teeth, an anxiety stress response as the ragged worn edges grit along one another once before he spoke again in a more accusatory panicked bark.

"Where is Knock Out!?"

[Breakdown]

Breakdown took the backlash from Flatline in stride, figuring that the mech had been waiting for a long time to get it all aired out in in the open so he just allowed it to happen. There was a reason for him being here, he told himself, and that was what steadied him and kept him from just turning around, apologizing for the intrusion, and carrying on his day to find Knock Out on his own. Breakdown had needed his answer so he'd have to wait for the prickly thing to calm down long enough for him to ask if he'd seen their CMO.

Some things he expected, other things he didn't.

However, the part that got him actually flinching? It wasn't the yelling, the little fit he was having, nor the gestures that reminded Breakdown of just how much he and Flatline were probably never going to be friends ( which he actually wasn't too spark shattered over, to be honest ). Rather, it was the question that hit him the hardest.

Where was Knock Out. That meant that he didn't know either, which left him grasping at straws at this point. If Flatline was asking him, and they were usually the only two who the CMO kept in a loop of where he was, then...

"I don't know. I thought you may have seen him."

How much should Breakdown actually reveal to Flatline? With Megatron back and assuming command again, it meant that orders were going to be shifted around and the power struggle would resume once again. He didn't know what side Flatline was on except his own, but if tattling to Megatron that Knock Out had run off to do something and was unreachable would put him in a better position during the chaos he was sure would happen- would he?

Breakdown didn't like this.

[Flatline]

"I don't know. I thought you may have seen him."

"What do you mean you don't know!?"

Flatline's angry words pitched differently at this, a form of fear and panic coming into play that someone so incredibly close to Knock Out had no idea what was going on. It was a tough pill to swallow since he truly believed things would have been shared ahead of time. However, one good element to this was the fact it helped narrow the reasoning down, leading Flatline to believe that it wasn’t intentional avoidance, but was a mistake of some type. Yet... that itself seemed crazy on a different level, since he had to... HAD TO be aware it was coming. Such a meeting was well 'advertised', and was a really big deal.

Carelessness had to be cut off when Megatron was involved, no matter how indifferent.

"I thought you were together since you both missed the meeting."

The shrieking of protest was subsiding as Flatline started to try to taper down from his initial rage. He still felt anger of course, he always would when looking upon Breakdown, yet he had to try to think on how to be more proactive in the present rather than dwell on the past. The lack of yelling was also influenced by the fact that he was now close enough to position himself at a conversational distance, no longer advancing with an aggressive stride. Or... as aggressive as it could be with his damage. Here he would plant his cane down, clasping the top with both hands for stability, his injured leg lifting some to alleviate pressure from the run he had attempted earlier.

"Where were YOU?-"

He asked the question again, hoping for a response this time. If Breakdown wasn't with Knock Out, then where was the brute of a mech when all of this was going on? Obviously, he wasn’t out looking for answers, less he wouldn’t still be lurking in the Medical Bay after so long. That room was so modestly small that it could be scouted in five seconds, if that, to walk to the back room and look.

"Did you two get in some sort of argument?"

Flatline's jaw clenched every now and again, his teeth creaking against one another as he grit them, glaring right up into Breakdown's single optic.

[Breakdown]

Breakdown knew the first question was rhetorical and didn't bother to summarize an answer. Asking what he had already said to not know anything about would have just been a waste of time, so he stood and allowed the other mech to continue as he reached a closer distance and lowered his volume and tone. The bruiser side stepped to avoid being bumped into by him- intentional or otherwise- and glanced down as his big pedes as he did so in order to make sure he didn't accidently step on Flatline's good foot.

He really didn't want to hear the accusation of doing any damage intentionally, especially considering he'd die on the hill that Flatline had pretty much brought the permanent injury he now sustained upon himself. His servo still twitched now and then involuntarily from where the sharp-toothed-menace bit him.

Breakdown diverted his gaze, knowing better than to make eye contact with a Superior officer.

"No, we didn't get into a fight." Wow, that was a stupid question- but he got why it had been asked so he tried to not be offended by it. "I was putting away supplies and cleaning up the medical bay as I always do. You know how much Knock Out demands to have his work areas laid out just so. I assumed that he was at the meeting. He should have been, at least." Not Breakdown. He was so low on the totem pole that the Vehicons would have been asked to the assembly hall before he would, and since they weren't there, he figured it was an invite-only party.

It was still almost laughable that Flatline would assume he'd actually be there. He left out the desire to snap at him that if Flatline was such good buddy-buddy with him, then he should have known where he was and reached out to Breakdown first- but he held that tongue.

"I tried to reach out to him via our private line, and there was an odd sound of distress that came in through the feed, which is why I came to look for him. I'm... not exactly sure where to begin looking."

[Flatline]

When Breakdown stated that he had spent the entire time of the meeting puttering around in the Medical Bay cleaning like some sort of mindless drone, Flatline's lower eye twitched up slightly, an absolutely floored expression plastering his features as his mind tried to even catch up to the statement and process it accordingly. It resulted in a couple of good long beats, his jaw parting into a momentary gawk with his lower teeth exposed, before he managed to finally speak, each word punctuated.

"I. What. You."

The mech's words almost looped in his processor for a moment, the way it had been said so casually like it was a normal conversational element throwing him off balance. Flatline's gawking expression remained in place as Breakdown continued further to speak on how he couldn't get in contact with the red and gold mech. This statement was not absorbed right away, however, the previous declarations stalling out the medic’s thought process to a point he simply had to address the first chunk before anything else. As such, after the agonizing pause, Flatline's voice pitched up loudly once again in distress.

"It was a MANDATORY meeting Breakdown!"

Flatline suddenly caught on to how loud he was speaking as he said this, a sort of shocked realization flicking past him, his helm crooking to the side to look over his shoulder in response. He hoped he did not draw the attention of another that still filtered back to their normal posts from the meeting, and thankfully he seemed to have dodged a bullet in not dragging a third party into this discussion. After this nervous movement, Flatline smothered the volume in which he spoke, continuing his distressed commentary at a lower hiss.

"That fact was made pretty damn clear, and if not, it should be treated as though it was, given it is Megatron."

How could someone intentionally snub such an event? Did Breakdown want to die? That had to be what was happening here, and if that was what was going on here, then there were easier ways to do so rather than playing games on this level. Whatever the case, the second chunk of the mech's explanations only then caught up to Flatline, his pinpoint white lens plates flicking across Breakdown's features with a sort of frantic mix between anger, frustration, confusion, and now legitimate worry, the latter of which started to help calm him down to try to think clearer.

"A sound of distress?"

A nervous pause.

"Was it 'I just got my paint scratched' distress or something more?"

The context clues showed it was the latter, yet Flatline wanted to make certain, his tank clenching some with even more worry. This showed itself plainly then, as his voice had transitioned once more, this time in the direction of a more fearful energy at the reality of what was going on here was catching up to him.

[Breakdown]

The way that Flatline freaked out as hearing that he had been doing his required cleaning regiment of the medical bay rather than attending the meeting. Did Flatline not remember where he fell? Usually when it was a mandatory meeting, if he didn't get the invite from Knock Out and was in attendance with him, he usually wasn't supposed to be there. Being at the bottom of the chain of command meant that it was best to not invade the sanctity of the officers meeting. Sure, it was Megatron, but if he did not have the CMO with him, he just wasn't supposed to be there. That'd be like a Vehicon showing up pretending to be someone important.

He just let him have his moment, until he finally moved on to something else.

"No, not that sort of noise." Breakdown knew what noise that was- it was dramatic, and one could imagine Knock out putting the back of his servo against his forehead at the noise. "It was something more, and it was... off. Like there was more he wanted to say, but the sound cut off suddenly. It was weird."

[Flatline]

"No, not that sort of noise."

Flatline hated hearing those words, the simple statement stabbing him in the side harder than he cared to admit. He would have given so much for Breakdown to say that Knock Out had sounded melodramatic and huffy, that it was something stupid he had gotten looped up into to a point that he had forgotten about the meeting somehow. Wishing and hoping... trying to wait for a better outcome... yet as the blue mech continued nothing was said that could even slightly alleviate the tension, it only adding to it in a way that was distressing.

Pulling in on himself some, Flatline's free arm would lift up to cross across his chest, long fingertips gently resting on the wheel of his bicep to slightly pick at its dense rubber surface in deep discomfort. He would hold this stance while thinking for a couple of beats, before red eyes flicked back up at Breakdown, his hand lifting up to gesture into the air while speaking.

"I don't know where Knock Out goes when he does leave base. All I know is he likes racing and playing around like a fool-"

That and the one outing they had together when he was trying to cheer him up, though that felt like an oddity and certainly not the norm for him.

"-Does he have some rival that may have been upset?"

Flatline hadn't heard about a particular driver who may have been messed with on more than a couple of occasions, though there was the fact such a topic may never have come up to begin with. He didn’t tend to show much interest in how the races went and hardly paid attention if they did get spoken about, tuning out the boasts about how he always comes in first, and how it was a fun race, or how it actually had a challenge or who knows what it didn't matter because he didn't listen... though maybe he should have been. Maybe then he'd have a clue that could aim in something stupid like normal human interference and not... the other type of human interference.

Red optics flicked to look at Breakdown's patched eye a second, not wanting to think that way.

"I do not Doubt Knock Out has made enemies..."

[Breakdown]

"Not that I'm aware of," Breakdown said simply. He wished that he could have told Flatline something different, that the 'making enemies' thing jogged his memory enough to recall a rival that he would be able to pinpoint and track down to locate Knock out.

That just wasn't the case.

"He would have told me if he'd come across someone like that. You know how much he likes to gloat when he gets under someone's casing."

There was always that one racer that had scratched his paint way back, but they'd made short work of him so he doubted that there would have been any lingering issues with him. The entire day was probably one that he'd rather forget, rather than bring up and be accused of losing his mind by his peers.

MECH was always an option, and obviously the highest on Breakdown's list of probabilities. They'd dug in deep when he was captured and the thought of them getting way into some parts of his memory core and tapping was still something that often kept him up at night. Gaps in things he once knew- or thought he knew- had been evident of their tampering. It was the whats that bothered him. Had they learned of Knock Out and hunted him down? Was that something they could do?

Idly he reached a servo up and rubbed at the side of his missing optic, forgetting for a moment that the tick there was only a phantom of what once was.

Then there were the Autobots. He'd hoped that the yellow bug that he'd sort of developed a very awkward stalemate relationship with would have deterred any risk to the medic. Had he been wrong? Was anything he thought could be been incorrect? Maybe he could find a way to reach out, see if he knew anything. At least that was a safer alternative to finding MECH.

"Knock Out isn't a fool. He knows to be careful."

Usually he was watching the medic's back.

... This was his fault?

[Flatline]

Why couldn't there have been a rival? Flatline wanted Breakdown to say there was one so badly that the lack of such a statement was a harrowing void that further funneled things in a direction he didn't like. He could try to argue, say that perhaps someone at the most recent race had gone on a rage-fueled assault at losing and thus did something... someone didn't need a long track record of interactions to go crazy and assault someone else... though it was one more step spiraling towards the deep end of the worst-case scenario.

Seeing Breakdown lift his hand to rub at his missing eye was all the confirmation to Flatline that both of their minds were running along the same course, forcing the uneased pit in his tank to dig all the deeper and twist. This resulted in his hand that was cupped over his wheel tightening further in a form of distress, anxious energy causing the inner edge of his bladed finger to scrape into the material. The grasp was starting to cut a thin groove into the top treads.

It was one thing to Flatline if he was alone thinking and worrying, able to try to boil it down to his own paranoia, though to have another silently confirm it all in some way even if unknown was disturbing, especially as he didn't have a plan. This caused red optics to flick aside as Breakdown spoke more, not making eye contact as though he was scared it would form some sort of additional panic imagining Knock Out's eye being cored out.

"I don't know if I can see Knock Out and Careful used in the same sentence."

Flatline didn't have a lifetime of experience with the other Cybertronian, knowing that he was only working with a small cutout from a grand tapestry, yet it was so difficult to imagine him being so cautious and mindful that only the worst-case scenario could happen.

"If someone lost a way to communicate with base, is there some emergency meetup point he could be in the process of driving towards? I don't know..."

Was such a thing even a thing? Was it needed? Flatline had no clue because he didn't leave the base. For all he knew there was some chain of rules that needed to be followed, or it was as simple as 'I want to go for a walk', and you can go out. His ignorance of how the base functioned out of the Medical Bay was evident in the now. This ended with his last words being quieter and more reserved, almost apprehensive.

"Where would we even start?"

Was there even a 'we'? Would he even be able to do anything but wait as someone more capable took it on?

[Breakdown]

"Perhaps careful is too strong of a word? Uh... cautiously paranoid? He wouldn't do anything that would lead him to unnecessary paint chips, let alone any sort of frame damage. He's the hit-and-run type, he wouldn't dare let himself be tracked down."

Breakdown believed everything he was telling Flatline. Knock Out had a reputation amongst the faction, but he knew a deeper side of the mech that others didn't. Not that any of those things would help calm the nerves considering that if he were captured by MECH, Breakdown knew their treatments first hand, but some part of him also wanted to calm Flatline. Having him distracted by any thoughts of their missing CMO wouldn't do good on top of whatever other stress he was under now that all the work orders would probably fall on him. The faction literally needed him to be fully focused in case something dire came across the table...

If...

No, now was not the time for that paranoia of his own to come up, and he refused to let those voices creep in. It was already bad enough that Breakdown didn't have Knock Out there to help push all that aside, and he certainly didn't want them taking advantage of the lack of assist and taking over. He didn't need to lose it, not not, not when Knock Out may need him.

"If there's a loss of communication with base, Knock Out and I have a back up plan." There was a place they had to meet up at in case something went bottom's up, but it was just a case of getting there without being noticed.

"I know it probably won't do much for settling any nerves, but try not to worry. One way or another, I'll find him, and I'll bring him back."

Breakdown didn't flat out say that he would with or without Megatron's order, but he was pretty sure Flatline was already aware of that implication. He knew that he was being monitored, even without seeing it. Their Flearless Leader would have his spy watching from every corner and reporting back everything. Breakdown knew better than to say the gladiator's name in any hint of disapproval.

[Flatline]

The second that Breakdown mentioned that there was a backup plan of some sort, Flatline seemed to perk up, his stance straightening while a form of life returned to dulled red eyes. He was still hunched, his frame generally stuck in such a form unless he specifically tried to uncurl, however, the partial motion was still notable, paired with the panels along his back bristling, and the turrets on each shoulder crooking back with a soft rattle of the internal mechanisms. It was a glimmer of hope to bite down on, something that gave them a starting point to work from that was anything other than MECH.

If there was a 'them'.

While Breakdown continued, Flatline's own mind was starting to try to work off of what had been said, piecing together ways that he could assist so that he wouldn’t have to do it alone. This said, there weren’t any that he could come up with, it feeling as though he was only able to focus on impossibilities. He couldn’t do some radius grid to search miles away from the meet-up point to see if Knock Out was on the way, if not already there... He couldn't fly overhead nor drive around and scout on his own accord... nor could he try to hack some signal tracking to simply zero in on him from some satellite relay.

While their signals could be tampered with by the Autobots, given they could block their base, he doubted that MECH could do the same. Maybe. Could this be false? Of course it could. Yet, Starscream had found Breakdown himself somehow, though the humans may have adapted since then after that loss. Ignoring possible advancements, if they simply could NOT track his signature? Then that could imply 'Autobots' or 'dead', one favorable since Knock Out would... be alive... while the other meant he simply wouldn’t be suffering anymore, which was a blessing in its own right.

"Tell me what I can do to assist."

Some confidence and assertion came back to Flatline's voice at this, his gaze that had been cast aside and avoidant now looking up at Breakdown once more. It wasn't an antagonistic glare, however, there certainly was more strength and conviction to be seen, his expression steeling to an extent as his mind still worked through what options there were. Perhaps the other mech would have an idea that he simply didn't, which was why he had phrased what he said in the way he had, rather than saying 'I want to help' which left it more open-ended as though he could offer ideas.

With this posture shift, Flatline's hand that had been clutching at the wheel that formed his upper arm would slip down, resting more towards his elbow without the crushing force.

For once he wasn't looking at Breakdown with a form of bitter disgust.

[Breakdown]

Assist? There wasn't much that anyone else could do, to be honest, and Breakdown knew that. Megatron would probably have everyone else running around doing different tasks to stay busy, as a way of restablishing his rule over the faction, leaving Knock Out out to be just the same as he had been- thrown to the wolves, be whoever they were, to fend for himself whilst hoping he managed to get out. The difference was that Breakdown had his long-stemmed orders, clear as they were, about what his responsibility about it would be. He would find Knock Out or die trying- a clear and concise message that had been handed down and sealed with his own spark long before they had ever arrived on Earth.

"The only thing you can do is wait. That's what we're currently playing with- a waiting game, and I don't know what the outcome will be."

Breakdown knew how to handle direct orders with clear directions, but this was something new. He didn't know where to start looking except in their usual spots, hoping that Knock Out would be there. Somehow, the back of his processor had doubts that it would be that easy. 

"You can't help me with this, not outside of here, at least. Knock Out is my responsiblity, above all else. If he's in some sort of distress, I'm obligated by orders to seek him out to ensure his safety. So all you can do is just what you've always done. Follow the orders of Lord Megatron, and keep the medical bay running for the time Knock Out isn't around, including all his patients."

There was an unspoken request by the way Breakdown said all, hoping that Flatline would include the proper care of what remained of the Vehicons as well. He'd worked hard to convince Knock Out to acknowledge them as sentient beings beyond the reference of mindless drones that they were titled by everything, and he could only hope that Flatline would do something of the same. Not that there were guarentees. 

"And should something happen to me, please aid him in my place."

[Flatline]

A waiting game? No... That was such an insufferable feeling...

Flatline could be patient, yes, but only when it came to things along the lines of sciences or those of a medical nature. You couldn't rush much of it without causing catastrophic issues and eventual failure, and as such those who couldn't slow their lives down and let time tick past with relative silence weren't going to last long in the fields. The difference was however that while said time was stretching out, recovery, data samples, or chemical tests were still moving forward at the same pace, while waiting around for something such as this event here in the now would feel insufferable. No end goal. Nothing to look forward to. They could be left in a perpetual limbo with no hope of closure ever being found, quietly hoping but silently knowing that they needed to move on.

No... this was a game he wasn't comfortable with.

As Breakdown started to speak further, Flatline's momentarily resolute posture started to wither up, the determination he had felt bleeding away with the reality that he truly was a useless husk. He had his value, yes, he could keep someone alive, which was a task so very few in this world could truly claim as their own, yet he still felt demotivated and frustrated. He just had to keep living every day like nothing had changed? How could he? Even if he pretended it was Knock Out 'fucking off' somewhere to play while he had to once more pick up the slack, it could only go so far due to the knowledge such a stint may simply be the new norm.

When Breakdown used the phrase 'all his patients', it seemed to go right over Flatline's head, though that was because he already saw value in the soldiers. While yes, they had been drones, they had also somehow awakened and that was a weird anomaly that was fascinating. He would love to crack open one of their processors if he had time to do so and do tests to see just how such a simple internal system could evolve in such a short amount of time, however, it wasn’t something he had the opportunity to look into before, and now that he was going to have to run the entire Medical Bay alone? It was a wish that would be so far outside his grasp.

He missed his sciences... the ability to create new things or learn about odd happenings... though it was what it was, and the point was Flatline already tended to them and so he didn't even register that portion of the discussion.

Though he picked up on the last bit.

"Hold up, what do you mean with that?"

Angular brows furrowed as he looked up at Breakdown, the loose grasp just above his upper arm tightening once more, though not threatening to slice into the materials as they had earlier in the discussion.

"You can't be thinking about doing some sort of trade? That won't work. Don't be reckless."

The Autobots wouldn’t trade a MEDIC for a soldier despite the fact they saw value in all life, and MECH would simply take them both and call it a fortunate day that the brute was moronic enough to think it would even work. There was a chance Breakdown didn't mean a trade... or more... it was probably a good bet it wasn’t what he meant... but the idea of getting Knock Out BACK while he didn't return? Well, that was where Flatline's mind went first, and he was not sure how else to take such a declaration.