[ti]Flashback[/ti]Show Me How To Be Whole Again [ Closed | Knockout ]

[Knock Out]

“Mm? Oh I know I don't, but I am anyway,” He smirked, still very much focused on what he was doing. “As for it being weird? I suppose I can thank you for allowing me to do this. Especially so soon after what happened to you.” He knew it couldn't have been easy for Breakdown, even with the utmost trust he had in Knock Out. Another 'plink' of a wire could be heard as he put it into the metal tray.

“I too, would definitely like if they didn't operate on you again.” He managed a weak chuckle at that. Not only because of well.. What'd happened and how close he'd come to losing his partner, but because of how terrible they were at what they did. Their work was sloppy and atrocious.

He was glad to keep Breakdown talking, and he was doing his best to keep his expression neutral even though at times he may have wanted to react in horror and dismay to what he'd seen. The cut on the panel that guarded Breakdown's spark would probably haunt him for a while – and he had zero intention of telling his partner anything. He didn't need him worrying further, or freaking out, or going on some kind of hellbent revenge and rushing in alone – that's how he got here in the first place. Going alone.

“Your old team gave their sparks for a good cause, then. Although that's even more reason to be thankful that things worked out the way they did, or you would've joined them.” He mused, quietly thinking. He couldn't remember his old 'team', if it could even be called that. A group of medics of which he'd quickly worked up the ranks due to his natural skill in this field, of course they all despised him. His snobby, prissy attitude, the way he carried himself and spoke down to others drove them away until they flat out refused to work with him unless they really had to. He didn't care for them, nor did he ever think of, or miss them.

“Hm? Yes?” He replied to his name, but didn't look up. Another 'plink' as he rummaged further and deeper into Breakdown's chassis, pulling out another wire. The question, however, made him pause, and he furrowed his brow.

“Aah. Uh. Well..” This was a question he'd.. Never really thought of the answer to, before. He held the tweezers against another wire, but didn't pull. He hummed, thinking.

“You appreciated me, for one thing. And while I know you said you stuck around only because you had to, I think it was more than that. At least after a little while. I can't really blame you though.” He winked, before continuing. “You managed to put up with me where nobody else could, and that in itself deserves merit. I noticed you looking at me when you thought I wasn't paying attention, and the little things you did and.. Ghn..” He stopped mid sentence to pull the wire free, this one was stubborn and he had to yank it harshly. “And still do.”

Plink.

“I was used to getting attention, but from you it was... Different? I suppose. I kept waiting, and waiting for you to make some kind of move but when it never came? I took matters into my own servos. Although even then, I just blurted it out mid-buffing session. Do you remember that?” He laughed quietly.

The laugh would quickly trail off though as he peered at something that he hadn't noticed before, one servo reaching over to the bench to grab the handheld scanner and running it gently around Breakdown's open cavity. It blipped quickly and he scowled at the screen before putting it aside.

“Those sneaky little..” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “There appears to be some sort of tracking device. I should probably remove it for Soundwave to play with.. I wonder why they did that. To protect their 'investment' should you run away, I suppose.” The chance of it being able to track Breakdown while on the Nemesis was probably slim to none thanks to the ships shield and cloaking fields, but even so, the fact they'd put one in was concerning. What if he hadn't have come back here..? What then?

“I'm going to have to cut it free, it's... Pretty well secured. Well hidden, too.” It seemed that removing that wire had exposed the little thing, and he wondered if there were more in here. He'd have to look in a moment. For now he would lean in, the hissing of hydraulics as his servo shifted into the welder once more as he began to work at the sneaky little tracking device.

[Breakdown]

     "You... you noticed me looking at you? By the All Spark..."

     Breakdown hadn't known that before. He had thought he had been much more stealthy than that, letting his optics fall on Knock Out's frame when his back was turned or he seemed to be too focused on his work to notice. It wasn't hard not to notice the red mech, though. If it wasn't his loud personality that made you look it was definitely his polished finish. 

     "Hm? Oh, your first move? Yeah, I remember. How could I forget?" Surely it was going to be something romantic, where Knock Out made a move and made it memorable for the both of them. At least, one would assume that. The response said otherwise, as Breakdown frowned and shuttered his optic half way in spite of Knock Out's chipper little way of talking about the situation. "From what I recall I was in the middle of buffing you and you just shouted at me that I was yours. No soft talk, no warning, just your sudden 'you're mine'. Scared the scrap out of me so bad that I dropped the buffer right on your pede and broke the stupid thing. You made me redo your entire finish and fussed at me about 'breaking your best buffer' for several meta-cycles after that. I made sure I had two servos on those things from then on. So yes, I remember." It wasn't his most fondest memory to date, even in spite of the outcome. "I'm glad you made the move, but you didn't have to be so mean about it. It was your fault I dropped it, anyway."

     Breakdown was staring at the ceiling when he heard the mentioning of a tracking device. For a brief moment there was panic that ran through his system, causing his spark to skip and the monitor alerted to it. It was only a small stall, a couple pulses at most, and then it returned to normal as Breakdown did his best to remain absolutely still as the cherry red mech dove back into his chassis. Knock Out wasn't giving him a lot of time to react to things before he was at it again, probably knowing that to do so could turn things bad for the both of them. He could only hope this would go quickly.

     Again he returned to looking around the room as the sound of the welder hit his audio receptors. All he could do was lay back and trust in Knock Out's skill as a medic to get everything sorted out. 

     "Ouch."

     The sting in Breakdown's chassis was short and well... peculiar. Why was that pain receptor still operating when MECH had shut all the rest of them down? He couldn't feel things otherwise, but that had felt like something had sent a small shock up his support strut. What was Knock Out doing in there? He looked to the medic as though to question it his words were paused as he looked at what was before him. Knock Out was so close, working so hard to fix him up. It was strange to have him near like this and not be able to so much as move his arms to pat his helm or poke at what he was doing. Funny thing was that it was HIS chassis he was rummaging around in, which would have made that entire attempt quite awkward. So while the moment would have made him scout around in curiosity to see what was happening just out of his sight, it would have also been really uncomfortable to ask about.

     There was another sting and the monitor beeped at Knock Out. Well, that was uncomfortable also. Breakdown didn't think anything of it, figuring that maybe one of the receptors had just failed to turn off completely. 

     "Hey, Knock Out? I... um. I can never repay you for all that you've done for me, but I swear on my spark that when this war is over? I will do whatever I can to make sure you're the happiest mech online. I promise." 

     Distress registered on the monitor, blinking red in warning that something was up. Breakdown didn't even have enough time to react, let alone know what was happening. His frame involuntarily went ridged as the circuits suddenly locked up and stalled out. The tracking device had been hooked up to Breakdown's central neural line that fed into the housing, and the moment that Knock Out touched the connective wires that fed into the line the sensors on the device were triggered and the device released an electrical surge through the housing and spread out through the other channels of his neural circuitry. The stings triggered by Knock Out fussing with the tracker had been sending small pulses through the line as a warning to not mess with it, causing the pain receptor to become active while the pulse passed through it. Breakdown hadn't recognized it as an issue and Knock Out wouldn't have been aware of what was happening since it wasn't brought up. This included his neural net and, while it wasn't enough to cause damage, it was enough to trigger a temporary stasis lock. Once everything shut down, his frame went slack.

[Knock Out]

“I did indeed notice. You weren't very stealthy. Still aren't.” He smirked, leaning up and well into the cavity of Breakdown's chassis to get a good look at the pesky little tracking device. He'd never seen anything like it before – sure he'd removed tracking devices in the past, but this one was really embedded in there and was of human technology, not Cybertronian, so it was being a real aft to get out. Heating the metal around it hadn't made it any looser, so he'd have to try something else.

“Shouted? I did no such thing!” He scoffed playfully. “I simply said that other Cons WISHED they had you for themselves and that you were all mine. Okay, maybe I did shout a little. I don't regret it however. It worked did it not? Because now you are mine! And I wasn't mean, just... Straight to the point!” He chuckled. While Breakdown might not have found the moment to be all cute and romantic like he probably wanted, it served him right for taking so long in making the first move. He went quiet for a moment, focused once more.

“...I still miss that buffer.” He pouted, not looking up from the tracking device. This time resorting back to the tweezers to try and wriggle them underneath the little thing, to see if that'd work. He didn't want to break it, wanting to study it for himself and then pass on to Soundwave to look at later. He heard the monitor alert him to something, but paid it no attention – if it did it again he would look up, but it didn't – and he was deeply concentrating on the task at hand. Probably just a misfire of a signal, or Breakdown panicking that Knock Out still wasn't over the buffer being broken.

The 'Ouch' didn't concern him, either. At least... Not at first. It should've, due to Breakdown having his pain receptors turned off, but it just didn't click with him.

Aaah come on you piece of slag!!

He almost had it that time, after digging in rather aggressively to try and pry it free. The monitor beeped again, and this time he glanced up to look at it. He immediately furrowed his brow into a frown as he read the screen. He was glad that Breakdown couldn't see the monitor, because well... This didn't look good. At least Breakdown wasn't outwardly stressing out about the fact that it kept beeping. Maybe he should've listened and heeded the warnings, but due to the fact that Breakdown had kept talking, and hadn't alerted him to anything that felt wrong? He decided everything was fine.

“You already do, Breaky.” He stood up straighter to roll his shoulders, and then paused. Optics widening as the realization hit him like a tonne of bricks. Wait. Wait. He said Ouch. That meant he felt something. Why did he feel something.

“Uh... Breakdown. What was ouch?”

There was no reply from his partner, just the furious beeping from the monitor, and now there was the added panic of the blinking red light and the fact that Breakdown's frame had gone horribly slack, all in a matter of seconds.

“Breakdown?”

Frag. He knew the tracking device had been placed onto his central neural line, but surely poking around couldn't have done this? He may have tried to pry it free but he hadn't used enough force to cause this. Not by a long shot. Unless the blasted thing had some kind of protective measure to prevent it being removed. That had to be it! Those humans were going to pay dearly for this!

“Hang in there, alright?” He was filled with even more determination now as he leaned over his partner once more. “Just stay with me.” The machine was beeping loudly, but he could tell that this was only a temporary stasis lock – but he wasn't sure just how temporary. Could be minutes. Could be hours. Regardless, he knew he had to get that damn thing out of his partners chassis to get him stabilized, and while his system had shut down was the perfect time – multiple stasis locks in a row weren't good, and he'd rather just have to deal with the one. He hadn't expected it, so was a little shaky with his movements. This was his partner, who only seconds earlier was fine; but he didn't let the emotion get to him, and just focused on the job.

One servo gripping the tweezers, the other still shifted into the welding iron he would lean in to heat the metal and pry the tracking device at the same time – it gave a bit of a fight, and there were some involuntary jolts from Breakdown as it happened, no doubt sending more flashes of pain through his luckily temporarily statis'd system.

He would pry and pull backwards as hard as he could, before the thing ripped clean out from inside Breakdown, causing Knock Out to go flying backwards and landing with a rather ungraceful 'thud' on his aft. Tweezers clamped tightly around his prize – the tracking device.

[Breakdown]

     The pair walked, the one in front leading the second through the corridors of Decepticon Headquarters in Kaon. What was happening wasn't unheard of, but it served as entertainment for those who were witness to it all the same. The reason behind this strange situation was a spectacle himself, which made this even more interesting and possibly a bit more strange, because those already stationed at HQ knew something the bulky dark blue mech didn't.

     The General walked ahead of him, keeping mostly quiet, but when he did talk with that gruff voice of his the tone was as condescending as they came. It was to be expected, really, considering there was no reason for Breakdown to have earned any level of respect. Among his team he was their equal, but here? Oh, these halls were full of mechs who paraded around their superiority, staring at him like he was violating some sacred air just by being here. He didn't carry a brand like they did which right away told them of his status. Even through the voices in his own head he could hear them talking, whispering around him. They made jokes at his expense, chatting among themselves, and he knew they were aware he heard their words. Popular opinion seemed to be that he wouldn't make it longer than a metacycle at best.

     "Are you paying attention?"

     "Yes, sir."

     In spite of his thoughts being elsewhere- as they normally were- Breakdown had been paying close enough attention to know what was being said. He just kept his optics to the floor and followed the General around a turn and down another corridor that led to the medical hall, filled with sounds much different than before. Of course, they were just as uncomfortable but in a different way. 

     The team said that he was lucky, that he should take the opportunity being given to him. They encouraged him to go, to take this once in a lifecycle chance to get out of the pit they were all trapped in. He wouldn't be a throwaway as long as he was able to pull off this assignment. They had tried to offer their support but Breakdown was paranoid, not stupid, and all of them knew better than to think anything more of this little 'vacation'. The day that Breakdown left his team was the last time he'd ever see them, be it one way or another. He was still disposable.

     "Don't assume that just because you're being given this assignment, that it gives you some sort of... special treatment. This is only temporary and the moment that a qualified member of the faction arrives, you will be relieved from your post and dropped back in.. whatever pit you were pulled from. Understood?"

     Breakdown held back a growl. "Yes sir."

     "Good," he responded with a nod and turned again. This time it was to stop before a door leading to one of the rooms. He motioned to it, staring at Breakdown. "I would advise for you to keep your actual status to yourself, just to ensure this transition goes smoothly. If he were to find out we had assigned someone of such a low class to guard him? He may just decide to scrap you himself. Try not to fail this assignment too quickly, yes?"

     "Yes, sir..."

     When the Captain passed him by, Breakdown lowered his helm and kept his optics to the floor, leaving him before the doors to enter on his own. It was only when he was gone that Breakdown started to relax and lifted his gaze to what was before him. He was going to prove them wrong; he was going to succeed in this assignment and shut all of them up. With a deep inhale he stepped through the doors and into the medbay of one...

     "Medical Officer Knock Out? Breakdown reporting for duty. I have been assigned as your personal bodyguard. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir..."

---

     It took a couple of breems, but Breakdown was coming out of stasis one system at a time. His processor was being fed information and status of his autorepair, which had kicked on while he was out, working to solidify the work Knock Out had done. First thing to come back online were his audials, registering the strange sounds around him, though muffled and difficult to identify right away. There was a small beep and then things became clear. A saw? No, it sounded close to it but not quite. He couldn't feel yet, so that meant that his pain receptors were still offline. Optics finally lit up again and soon to follow were his neural circuits, then his motor functions. Deep within his chest the engine of his alt mode revved loudly, indicating that he was finally up. Slowly his shuttered optic started to open...

     "AH!" The sound of his surprise was coupled with a jump. Well, as much as he could considering that he was still obviously restrained to the berth. The sudden sight of a flame quite close to his faceplate had been enough to bring him awake all the way and having not been expecting it,  had been enough to startle him. Once he settled and realized just what was going on he let out a loud huff.

     "Well, I would say it's nice to see you, but waking up to your welder in my face kind of ruined that moment." It was a light-sparked enough statement as he chuckled while looking away with his single optic. Truth was, it was a little eerie having that tool so close in spite of how cautious and talented Knock Out was in use of it. Now he knew how the patients felt. "What happened?"

[Knock Out]

Knock Out pulled himself up with a huff after falling smack onto his aft. That was annoying, but at least he'd pried the little bastard free, and Breakdown should hopefully start to come around on his own now. The machine had stopped screaming at him, and the red light had stopped flashing in warning, which were both very good signs.

He would move back over to the berth, placing the tracking device into a separate metal tray and setting it to one side to be looked at later. It didn't look like anything special, but if it'd been able to trigger some sort of temporary stasis when it was fiddled with? Then there was obviously more to it at first glance.

He wasn't sure when Breakdown would wake up, and so would continue with his work as normal. He would patch up the remainder of the holes inside Breakdown, soldiering them and using filler to smooth them over. He'd scanned, and scanned again, looking for more tracking devices but luckily there had only been the one. He was silently thankful, not wanting to go through that again.

While he was here with Breakdown's chassis pried open, he would do a little maintenance work as well. Tightening pistons, securing Cylinder Barrels, double checking the Neural Cables and various systems hadn't been damaged during the temporary stasis. Everything was looking good internally, and he was fairly confident that everything would be alright and pain free once he turned the pain receptors back on, aside from a few dull aches as auto-repair finished up a few things, and the pain that would be felt as Knock Out had to soldier the chassis closed once more.

But for now? He had to work on that optic.

Part of him wanted to try and repair the damage, to see if they had a donor optic laying around that could be used to replace the missing part.. But he respected Breakdown's wishes, and while this would've been the perfect opportunity and moment to do what he wanted? He would not.

With the tweezers he'd used to pluck the tracking device from Breakdown's chassis, he would begin to careful ease out broken shards of yellow screen from in and around the damaged limb. The circuitry within was far from dead, and the fact it still seemed to want to focus even despite the stasis? Made Knock Out hope that one day, Breakdown would want a replacement put in, rather than a patch over.

Kliks turned to breems, and Knock Out would not leave Breakdown's side, not once. It took longer than he'd of liked to pull every broken bit of screen from around his partners faceplate and missing optic, but he wanted to ensure that this was done properly and cleaned up as best he could.

Occasionally he would glance up at the screen to keep tabs on things, and to refocus his own optics – which had been narrowed with concentration this entire time. Throughout the stasis he'd noted heavy processor activity, almost as if Breakdown was having some kind of dream. He hoped they were pleasant, and not some nightmare about MECH or other terrible things.

The silence was pleasant, and strangely comforting. There was just the familiar whirring hum of the machinery in the background, and the tiny taps and scrapes of the tweezers as they worked delicately in his servos. It was rare that the Med Bay was so quiet. Knock Out could get used to this.

He'd tweak at a few things inside where the optic should be, turning the wires and circuitry off so they were no longer trying to focus and see – this would save power in the future, and wouldn't hurt once the pain receptors were turned back on. He wouldn't fully disable them, just simply switch them off – so at a later date, he hoped, they could be turned back on when Breakdown replaced his optic.

He'd move away from his partner for a moment, to rummage around in a drawer which contained all sorts of things, pulling from it an eyepatch which not only looked good, but would fit Breakdown's faceplate. He'd move back and gently place it over the now smoothed over hole, and would begin to weld it into place.

Which was, of course, when Breakdown woke up with a start.

He'd flinch back some, startled at the yell.

“Breakdown, for frags sake!” He laughed. “Scared me half to death, you're lucky I didn't drag this across your faceplate.” He'd wave his arm around as if indicating that was what he was referring to, soldering iron still very switched on and red hot.

“There are worse things you could wake up to, I suppose.” He mused, leaning in once more to continue with what he was doing. He wanted this to look perfect, so was going painfully slow with his movements.

“What happened? Seems our friends at MECH have made a tamper-proof tracking device,” He scoffed. “It put you into a temporary stasis lock, you've only been out for a few breems. Nothing serious.” He'd note that he found the quiet to be delightful, but he didn't want to upset Breakdown, and so would resume chatting like they had been before the little incident.

“Seems you were dreaming the entire time you were out, anything good?”

[Breakdown]

     "Sorry, Doc. Didn't mean to scare ya. At least you wouldn't have done anything to my face you couldn't fix, right?"

     Well, the welder could have done a good bit of damage, which included - and what not limited to- taking out his other optic. So Breakdown would stay still during the procedure and remember just where he was to save any chance of that happening. As far as the rest went, he just listened. Knock Out was taking his time with his current task and Breakdown didn't have the spark to disturb him. He was always quite capable with his work and took a lot of things seriously ( not the 'you scratched my paint' type of serious, even though that was the side of him that was always scary to see ) and sometimes it was a bit unnerving. He got to see the sides of his partner that no one else did, and Breakdown reciprocated the honor. He'd never seen him so serious while working on his frame, however, and that still made him a little uneasy. Sure, he'd kept his emotions in check about the matter, but Breakdown still knew him better than anyone, and understood just how serious the situation had been. He didn't need his audials to pick up what he already saw through his optic.

     "Only you would think that was nothing serious, Knock Out. We could have the entire Vehicon squad in here leakin' energon and you would say 'nothing serious', just as long as they didn't mess up anything in your medbay or stole your waxes. Then it would be all-out war on the ship." The fact that he didn't right away address the information shared to him about what MECH's little device had done hinted that he was actually quite bothered by it. He'd muse on that in a moment, but right then it was Knock Out bringing up his dreams that pulled him from that train of thoughts.

     "Hn," came the immediate sound in response to the question. Really, that entire time had been full of ups and downs- mostly downs- and it was hard to really pinpoint how to answer Knock Out's question one way or another. He thought some to himself before he continued. "I was thinking of the day I first arrived to Decepticon Headquarters. When I was brought in by General... Whats-his-designation... you know the one. The tall flyer with the sarcastic tone and poor engine care." That description was vague and described a good deal of the Decepticon army in general. That was part of the reason why Knock Out was so vital to them. " He had that yellow and green paint job that you always complained about because you said the tone of it reminded you of recycled sparkling material?" He didn't care about the designation and was just making small talk. Breakdown had been indifferent when he'd heard of that General's death; He'd been an aft to him anyway so he deserved whatever punishment Primus gave him. "Well, anyway. I was just thinking about that. I think you threw something at me at some point during that cycle, didn't you? For a good while I just wanted to smash your helm in, especially when you would poke and prod at me with those little destructive claws of yours for whatever reason. Why did you do that, anyway? You were such an annoying, nasty little half-pint, you know that?"

     Breakdown shuttered his remaining optic, and lay there quietly for a bit, just listening to the sounds around him. It was odd to know the welder was right there and he couldn't feel it. Was his faceplate heating up? Was Knock Out drawing little designs on it that he'd seal up and fix before he'd see it? Maybe he was giving him his own little etching just in payback of calling him half-pint. Hopefully Knock Out would know it wasn't meant to be mean. Just two mechs reminiscing of the old days.

     "Promise me something, Knock Out." Breakdown kept his optic shuttered until after he spoke his partner's designation. When it opened again, he just looked up at the ceiling. "I know you're strong enough to handle whatever is thrown at you, but I don't want you to be pushed around just because you're smaller in stature. I know you're made of sterner stuff than even me. So if anything were to happen to me- if I were to be permanently offlined- make sure you just... survive. Be on the winning team." He didn't say Decepticons or Autobots, which hinted to just how open that final statement was. It may have been easily brushed off by someone else, but knowing Knock Out and the way he could pick up on Breakdown's sublimated messages? He didn't doubt that he understood just what he meant by what he said and how he said it.

[Knock Out]

“Give me more credit than that, Breakdown. If the entire Vehicon squad were in here leaking Energon, I would consider that to be somewhat serious. And I'd like to think they'd know better than to mess anything up or steal anything,” Knock Out would scoff as he continued to slowly weld the optic-patch in place, doing the most subtle of optic rolls. “And yes, while the temporary stasis lock was surprising, it was far from serious.”

He would pull back a moment to roll his shoulders with a grunt, leaning up and stretching his back. Being hunched over for long periods was a little uncomfortable. It'd be worth it though, he was taking great care and diligence with his work in soldiering on the optic-patch. He wanted it to be seamless, like it looked like it belonged there to begin with – and given that Knock Out would be the one looking at it for the majority of the time, he wanted it to be perfect.

“Mm. I don't recall his name. I remember him being a pompous aft, though.” He didn't care for anyone back then, so didn't make a priority of remembering names. “He did spend a lot of time with me though for that engine, though. I'd fix him up, and a week later he'd be back because he'd somehow pulled something, or twisted something. How he got to be in the position he was, I don't know.”

He hummed in thought. Maybe the General just liked him and did it on purpose to spend time with Knock Out. He wouldn't blame him.

“I do remember that gaudy paint job, now that you bring it up,” He sighed. “I had forgotten all about it, now I want to forget it once more.” He shuddered. Green and yellow, and not even pleasant shades of either.

He would lean in once more to continue the soldiering, about halfway done now.

“I seem to recall that I threw a lot of things at you,” He smirked, “As for the poking and prodding? I was simply just seeing what made you tick. My other attempts to drive you away had failed, so I was simply trying to get you to lash out so I could have you removed.” He hummed, the tone of his voice was smooth, and honest - like he wasn't trying to hide or cover up what his intentions were back then, he had hated Breakdown at first, and fully intended to have him removed from his side so he could get what he wanted – which was to work alone.

He was glad that Breakdown had his own little agenda of proving Mr. Gaudy Paintjob and the others wrong, though, and had stuck by Knock Out despite his many attempts to get him to leave.

“Nasty little half-pint?” He couldn't help but laugh. “You were an annoying doofus of a lug-nut, and yet here we are.” He smiled, before standing back up straight as Breakdown asked him to promise him something, his optics narrowed in concern.

“You should probably stop talking like that, mm? You had a run-in with MECH and survived. You aren't getting offlined anytime soon. I think we can both probably agree though that going out alone in future is a stupid idea.” That was mostly for Breakdown's benefit, he still very much intended on going racing when he could – he would go stir-crazy otherwise. He did sound a little annoyed by the sudden topic change in conversation and what Breakdown was suggesting, and would lean in to continue soldiering quietly, not saying more on the matter.

While he wasn't welding any ridiculous phrases or smiley faces, he sure was thinking of a few choice phrases for his partner, but kept his mouth shut as he finished up the welding of the optic-patch. Once it was done, the soldiering iron would shift back into Knock Out's arm, to be replaced by his servo which he would curl and flex with an approved hum.

“Here,” He would move over to the drawer from which he'd got the optic-patch out earlier, pulling out a mirror. He'd stride back and hold it over Breakdown's faceplate so he could see. “How does this look? While it isn't going to ever be as attractive as an optic, I think it looks alright with the patch.”

[Breakdown]

     "They would have sent me to the smolder if I had been taken away. At least you have enough sense to admit you didn't care about anyone else but yourself... at the time." The last bit was added in quickly since he hadn't thought his statement through and would have ended it before the final three words. Knock Out, forever self-centered. Still, Breakdown found attraction and charm behind the vanity, snark and flamboyance and an acceptance of his own faults that made it where he couldn't actually fault Knock Out for his.

     It was no secret that Knock Out needed stress relief on a regular basis, in which he either polished himself or went out on one of his racing excursions. There was NO way Breakdown believed for a nanoklik that he was going to live up to a rule of 'no going out alone'. The dark blue mech wasn't made for racing and would just draw unwanted attention being parked close by while Knock Out was trying to show off his impeccable maneuvering skills and brilliant paint job. It could lead to trouble- mostly from Knock Out who undoubtedly would moan and groan about not needing a sparkling sitter.

     A lie.
     Breakdown hated those sorts of fabrications. He wasn't stupid.
     He thinks you're a fool. They all do.

     When the mirror was turned to him to look at what Knock Out had done, Breakdown obliged and stared at his reflection. The work wasn't bad and he didn't really see an issue with the patch. He knew that his partner was upset with the decision to not replace the optic and still was, considering the underhanded little comment he'd made. "Looks good to me. You're the one that has to stare at it most of the time, so if it works for you, then it works for me. If you approve of it then that means I shouldn't have to listen to you complain about it every time we come out of stasis." Breakdown turned his helm away from Knock Out, staring off to the side with a bit of a narrowed-optic glare. "You're the one who knows all about finesse and tact."

     Knock Out had periodically complained to him about lacking such things. For Breakdown it was a matter of war. He had a simple task- pummel Autobots into the ground and send them to the All Spark with a kick to the aft for good measure. Fighting in the war was a dirty job and there were more times that he came back with new damage than none, covered in energon that was either his, his opponent, or a mix of both. He wouldn't have even bothered with touching up his paint if it weren't for Knock Out's constant bickering about it. Knock Out always hated that he looked so dingy and worn sometimes and part of that had been the reason why Breakdown had thought he'd had no chance with him. The mech was pristine and attractive with the brains and skills to back up his claim as 'number one Decepticon medic'- a catch for anyone who was looking for something worthy in their net. Breakdown had just always felt such a thing wasn't for him, especially when there were many more clear suitors who came in and out of the medbay on periodic basis to chat with him or had wounds that they insisted needed looking over ( superficial or otherwise ) that had the look and rank that someone of Knock Out's status would much rather go for.

     All the while on Cybertron Breakdown had watched Knock Out's back - and to the rumor of some for their own amusement, other parts- and the medic had never expressed interest in Breakdown. So even now it was a little surreal for him to admit even if it had been a long time since Knock Out had made his 'possession' intentions clear. It seemed to baffle even those who had found out about the choice while others remained in the dark and merely stayed away in fear of rumors that the medic's assistant would have rather been the cause of one ending up on a medical berth instead of having a servo in ensuring they were still functioning.

     He did recall overhearing Knock Out describing him as big, strong, mostly obedient...

     Obedient. Maybe that's it.
     Of course it's it! You're nothing to him except a bodyguard.
     That's a lie.
     Is not. He pulls you along because it keeps you in line!
     I'm not listening.
     How many times has he left you behind to save his own aft?
     ... Shut up, you. It's not like that
     Of course it is!
     No it's not!
     You'll offline because of him! 

     The monitor would have been spiking at the internal argument he was having with his glitch. Yeah, his memory cache was just opened up now. The surge in his systems must have disrupted something for all of this to come back at once. The paranoia was definitely let loose.

     "Hurry up, Knock Out. I got things I have to do."

[Knock Out]

“I admitted nothing of the sort.” He scoffed, lowering the mirror once Breakdown had seen the optic-patch and approved of it. His optics would narrow at the added in part at the end there, and his lip would curl upwards into the faintest of un-amused sneers; luckily his back was turned to Breakdown as he set the mirror back onto the bench. Breakdown wasn't wrong, though – he really didn't care about anyone other than himself, at least not then. Not much had changed in the present day, either. He only cared about himself, but had found it within his spark to care greatly for Breakdown. Coming so close to losing him meant he'd care just that little bit more about him, even if he didn't outwardly show it right away.

The Med Bay would be for nothing but serious time. Working and nothing more. Not for doting and affection, as much as Breakdown would've probably liked. That kind of thing was best suited for their shared quarters, away from prying optics and audials of who even knows – even with the door locked he didn't want to risk anything. While he was proud to call Breakdown his own, he was not, and would not be a fan of being overly affectionate out in the open – not with his actions nor his words; he just hoped that Breakdown didn't take the slight coldness and snark the wrong way, or assumed it was because Knock Out didn't care for him. He adored him, he really did.

By the time he turned back to face Breakdown, he was all serious once more, the sneer wiped from his face. “That was so long ago now does it even matter anymore? I wanted to work alone. You were too stubborn to get the hint. You weren't offlined, and here we are. Things worked out, did they not? I'd say they worked out well.”

He hummed, leaning over Breakdown to inspect the optic-patch one last time for himself now he wasn't leaning over it and focusing intently he could see it in another light. It looked alright. It'd never be the same as an optic, but it'd do for now. His servos would move to his hips, and he'd peer at Breakdown.

“Don't just say 'if it works for me then it works for you', you big lug-nut. You do have some say in the matter!” He chuckled, managing a smile. “If you want it changed, now is the time to say so.” The smile would fade as Breakdown turned his helm away, and he'd snort quietly at the comment about finesse and tact.

“I'll leave it as is, then.”

He sighed. His attention quickly turning to the monitor as it began to blip, the various graphs and charts that were displayed were spiking quite frequently, showing heavy processor activity. His servos would move to fold across his chassis as he watched it curiously, then glanced to Breakdown as he lay on the berth.

“Hurry up?” He raised one servo to tap his chin. “I still have to install an upgraded weapon for you, not to mention turn your pain receptors back on and close up your chassis properly. You wont be doing anything for a while, either. Doctors orders, you are going to be resting until I say otherwise. So no, you do not have things to do, at least not until I say so.” Attention shifting back to the screen, optics narrowing.

“Seeing some strange activity on the monitor, everything alright in there?” The servo he'd used to tap his chin would reach down to gently tap Breakdown on the helm with one long, slender digit. He knew of Breakdown's internal arguments, having helped reassure him through some in the past; but he'd never actually seen them on the diagnostic monitor before.

[Breakdown]

     “Yeah, you’re right. Things worked out for the best so none of it matters anymore.” He probably would have shrugged in his usual casual manner if it weren’t for the fact that he was still strapped to the berth below him.

     Breakdown let Knock Out inspect the patch as much as he wanted and needed to in order to ensure it was up to his standards. He barely had enough care for his own paint job and only touched up bits here and there when his partner would inform him that it needed to be done- through casual, simple dropped hints of course. This patch? It was his work, his ‘art’ in a sense, and Breakdown was confident that he didn’t need to have any say in how it looked. Knock Out would be the one forced to stare at it every time he looked at him and he knew that the medic wouldn’t dare put halfaft effort into it. If he were unsatisfied in its appearance or functionality? He would change it as he saw fit. Things rarely took more than one time to get right. Anything more than that was unacceptable to the cherry red mech.

     Not to mention that Breakdown really hated to be on the medical berth anyway. Even during check ups he insisted on just sitting and moving how he needed so that everything could be looked over.

     So when Knock Out said that he’d leave it as it was? It brought relief.
     Though hearing the part indicating that there were other things needing to be done? Yeah, that relief vanished quickly.

     He’d completely forgotten about the other things, even the pain receptors needing to be turned back on. It was rare that he ever was hit hard enough to trigger them since the upgrade to his frame so it had just slipped. Sure, he hadn’t been able to feel Knock Out’s touch, but he figured that was because the sensitive nodes and sensors had been disabled. Silas had mentioned them being turned off...

     Scrap.

     The weapon thing was a different story. Breakdown didn’t feel that he had to be strapped down to the berth to have his weapon upgraded. Knock Out had been insistent on it, even though he was usually a pushover when it came to the requests of his partner so the ‘persistence’ wasn’t all that difficult. Even if he didn’t mind what he currently had, it made sense to have something that fired maybe a slight bit faster with more punch to it. Still, he didn’t really see an immediate need for it and figured this was just a way of making Breakdown ‘stay down’ for a while.

     Okay, so most of what was said was agreeable to. The rest, however? That was a much more difficult pill to swallow.

     “Rest?” Breakdown looked at his partner, his optic ridge furrowed. “You can’t be serious, Knock Out! I’m a strong-sparked as they come. I don’t have any doubt that I can return to work as soon as you have me closed up and done. There’s no reason that something as simple as some patchwork should keep me outta the game. Lord Megatron needs all able frames out there scouting resources. I’m sure ya got me running as good as new.”

     Well, at least Breakdown didn’t think he needed to be restricted from work. He didn’t understand the extent of the damage that he’d endured nor how close to being offlined he had been. Even if he did he probably wouldn’t have let that bother him.

     “... You’re not worried about me, are ya, Doc? I mean, you don’t think I can’t do my job anymore, do ya?”

[Knock Out]

Once Knock Out was certain that the optic-patch was up to his very, very high standards, he would hum in approval before reaching over to grab a cloth from the bench, wiping down his servos and taking particular care in wiping off his digits which had been covered in Energon and various oils and hydraulic fluids from the patchup work.

“Oh, I most definitely am serious.” He would move to sit down in a chair, pushing it back with one pede and wheeling over toward the datapad he'd hooked up to the diagnostics monitor at the start of all this, pulling it from the bench, although leaving it plugged in. A gentle tap of a digit and the screen would come off sleep mode, and he'd scroll along with his thumb. Breakdown hadn't answered his earlier question, so he was just getting a closer look at the data that'd been logged. Not that'd it'd give any insight nor play-by-play to the inner argument going on in his partners processor, their technology wasn't that advanced, but he just wanted to check that things were alright.

That, and sitting down for a moment was always welcome.

“Good as new, yes, I did – but you are resting.” He was purposely vague, not wanting to tell Breakdown just how close he'd come to being offlined by MECH. That was the last thing he needed, it was going to be bad enough dealing with the nightmares from the trauma of them taking him at all; not that he minded any, but hearing that you came literal nano-kliks from death? That wouldn't bode well with even the strongest minded of Cons.

“Lord Megatron can deal with you being out of commission for a short while, as can you.”

He typed something into the datapad, keeping it angled just slightly so Breakdown couldn't read anything that was on the screen should he look over and try to see. His brow furrowed slightly in thought, and he wouldn't take his attention off the screen as he continued to talk. The light from the datapad washing Knock Out in a soft, blue glow.

“Worried? No. As for if you can still do your job? I'd say once we're done here, you'll be even better at it!” He paused, glancing up then and smiling. “Once you rest, of course.”

Attention turning back to the datapad and he sighed. He'd have to go through this in more depth later, they'd already been in here long enough already; and he knew Breakdown was probably restless by now.

“So, how about I turn your pain receptors back on and close you back up, hm? Then we can work out exactly what weapon we're going to install.”

It paid to have a hobby and background in tinkering around with weapons design, as it meant Breakdown no doubt would be presented with a few choices. Some probably ridiculous, but they would be offered all the same.

[Breakdown]

     He knew that the moment the cherry red mech had spoke that he was serious. The medic had his times when he would play around or be sarcastic, but the tone he had used had been anything but. The reassertion of his words only set it further into stone.

     Didn’t mean that he had to like it.

     ‘He thinks you can’t do your job anymore. He’s taking you down from the front lines because your defective. He’s going to sell you out!’
     ‘No, he wouldn’t do that.’
     ‘Or he’ll blackmail you! That’s possible.’
     ‘He wouldn’t do that either.’
     ‘He’s probably disgusted by your weakness. He knows you were captured by humans.’

     Breakdown let out a loud scoff. He wasn’t pleased with the thought of ‘resting’ for any period of time, and not knowing how long Knock Out would force him to be out of commission? That only made it more frustrating. He knew Knock Out meant well but sitting around not able to do his normal routines didn’t bode too well with him. He enjoyed what he did, especially when crushing Autobots was part of the mix. Having to sit back and not do anything just didn’t feel right.

     “Alright, alright. I get it...”

     The brief silence between them allowed for Breakdown to think everything over. So as Knock Out scrolled through his datapad, taking silent notes that he didn’t bother to share and made extra sure to tilt the screen so there was no chance to just peek at the information, Breakdown was busying himself with staring at the ceiling. While Breakdown had been left in the dark about the extent of the damage done to him be MECH, it had to have been worse than he was letting on. Even on Cybertron when he would come back from the field with days worth of work needing to be done to repair him, the medic had never put him out of duty. So either Knock Out didn’t think Breakdown was capable of doing his job anymore and just wouldn’t say so, or the damage had been bad enough to rattle his partner. Clearly this was more than just some precaution over a missing optic.

     His optic narrowed. It was almost like a new spark went through his processor. Everything was falling into place.

     Breakdown recalled the pause that his partner had done while he was buried in his open chassis. Something in there had looked bad, but he had played it off. Breakdown should have realized that it was not normal right then. Nothing ever made Knock Out just stop in the middle of doing something when he was as focused as he previously had been. Of everything that had happened in the long while that the two had known each other, this had been the one thing to shake up Knock Out’s nerves. The medic probably didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. Nor would his partner ever admit that something done by the hands of humans- insignificant and 'harmless' fleshlings- had been enough to unnerve him.

     It all made sense.

     Again, it was probably something Knock Out would never admit. 

     Breakdown was putting all the pieces of the puzzle together and almost missed what Knock Out had said. It sounded far away, but it was clear enough for him to come back to the now. With a blink, Breakdown pulled from his thoughts and looked at Knock Out with a nod. There was always the other matter to deal with, which was the one he wasn’t looking forward to. He’d almost forgotten about that last bit.

     “I really don’t need the break… but I’ll take your medical advice into consideration and take the time off- if just to settle any concerns you may have.” There was no point in arguing about the break since he wouldn't put it past his partner to just leave him strapped down to the berth for the duration of his 'rest' period. Breakdown clenched his fists, preparing himself for what was coming next. “Right. Probably should finish everything up and move on to the weapon. Besides. It’d be nice to have feeling again, even if there’s a risk of it hurting like the Pits. I can take it, though.”

     ‘Maybe he thinks you’re not good enough anymore.’

     There was no point in listening to his paranoia, since it was going off on whatever tangent it felt like going with.

     “I’m ready whenever you are.”

[Knock Out]

“Are you sure you get it?”

Knock Out asked, his tone calm and cool like always. He didn't look up from the datapad, typing more into it and keeping it angled away from the prying optic of his partner. He knew Breakdown better than anyone else, and therefore knew that while Breakdown said he would take some much needed time to rest – the truth was? He probably wouldn't. He'd insist to help. He'd 'accidentally' wander into the Medical Bay and oops was he doing work? It'd happened before, it'd happen again; and Knock Out knew that Breakdown would do anything in his power to get back in here and help out. He wouldn't let it happen.

“Because I know in the past when I've told you to take it easy, you did anything but.”

He chuckled then; tone light and more playful. He flicked his thumb up on the datapad to power off the screen, before reaching over to put it back in its place on the table next to the berth. He'd then get to his feet and stretch his arms above his head; there was a hiss of hydraulics as he did, and a content groan escaped him. That felt better. Now? Time to get back to work.

He hadn't worked out that Breakdown was starting to understand why Knock Out had insisted he rested. Although his partner was probably right in that he didn't really need the break – his self repair could, and would fix everything with the aid of the bonding agent and work that Knock Out had done after a recharge or two, but Knock Out really didn't want to take any chances.

He couldn't.

The attempt to slice into Breakdown's spark chamber had rattled Knock Out more than he'd ever let on – although he would never tell his partner just how close he'd come to being offlined. This would be Knock Out's burden to bear, and he would do so in secret; all the while vowing revenge on MECH and the one who had done this to Breakdown. Keeping him from work was for Knock Out's peace of mind more than anything else, his own little way of showing he cared, while using his rank and medical knowledge to twist it into demanding he rest.

“We'll do the pain receptors first, that way if anything still hurts? I still have you open for right now so can fix them quickly and easily, alright?”

He'd been dreading this part. Everything had gone so smoothly so far, but that was only part because Breakdown couldn't actually feel anything. There could be areas which still hurt, despite the diagnostic screen saying otherwise.

He was glad Breakdown was still very much restrained to the berth – that way there was no chance of him lashing out at the shock to his system as pain receptors were turned back on. Having his chassis cavity open and exposed wouldn't hurt but it'd be more than a little uncomfortable.

He'd move over to the machine which Breakdown was hooked up to, long slender digits reaching out to type and tap various things into a keypad. He was thankful that the Decepticons had the most advanced tech in terms of medical equipment, turning the pain receptors back on was as simple as hitting a few buttons.

“I'll do it bit by bit, as not to overwhelm you. If anywhere hurts? Please, let me know. I don't think anywhere will, but the machine could be reading things wrong.”

Slowly but surely, with more button presses and occasional, wary glances to Breakdown? Feeling would begin to return to the big blue Mech, starting from his pedes and working their way up his frame. It only took a few mere moments, until every pain receptor was now fully firing and active once more.

“Anything?”

He hoped Breakdown wouldn't lie and say things were fine when he was actually in pain; not that it mattered any, he would be forced to rest regardless once this was all over and done with.

[Breakdown]

     "Of course I get it. I'm not dense."

     Knock Out knew Breakdown, sometimes perhaps too well. Sure, he said that got it, but the explanation behind it? The skeptical tone? The way he didn't look up at him? Breakdown knew that Knock Out was quite aware that saying it was easier than doing it. He would agree, of course, and take it easy- as per order by the Chief Medical Officer- but it really wouldn't last very long. Breakdown knew exactly what time Knock Out was talking about and he vented heavily as he stared at the ceiling.

     He been told to take it easy and while he had been good about it for the first half of the cycle, by the end of it? He was sneaking his way into the medbay and doing ‘light work’, then more and more until he was back to what he usually did in spite of being told otherwise. Honestly, it was just how he rolled, to say the least. His work ethic was his downfall sometimes. He could never sit back and just let the others do things around him while he just... watched. Not to mention that Breakdown really didn't feel like giving their Lord a reason to think he was useless. Being out of commision? That was the perfect argument for it. Knock Out could say what he wanted, argue all the reasons behind why Breakdown couldn't get back to work right away, but that wouldn't make it alright. Breakdown felt he was already skating thin ice as it was. No point in giving himself something else to be paranoid about.

     “Do you want the truth, or a lie? Because you already know the answer to that question. So... yeah. I get it. I'm just not happy about it."

     Well, not like Knock Out wouldn't be expecting an answer like that. He wasn't happy with the suggestion and he was certain his partner was well aware of that.

     Then he tensed at what was going to be coming next. It was time to get this show on the road and was just pleased to be moving the process along. After the bit with the pain receptors and sensors was over then that was just one step closer to being able to get off the berth. At least it would mean he wouldn't need to be restrained anymore. So, Breakdown was ready and waiting for what was coming. Pain wasn’t so much an issue for him, as he had been through quite a bit during his youth on Cybertron already and had put himself through some rough scrap, but he was a little curious. He was used to having damage done when he knew the extent of it. Breakdown didn’t know all the technical terms and thrown around by medics to describe what they were fixing, but he always knew when something hurt. Being able to point and say ‘this hurts’ or ‘that hurts’ and ‘that’s stiff and uncomfortable’ was much easier to deal with. Medics applied numbing agents afterwards if the situation called for it, which Breakdown usually waved or they just flat out weren’t offered because of limited supply ( or whatever excuse was given ). This, however? This was unusual. Having his internal workings messed with, turned off and what have you without a heads up? Not knowing just what had needed to be repaired?

     Yeah, that was bothersome.

     So he was ready. He braced himself and waited...

     Waited...

     First his pedes came back first, and he flexed them a bit just to be sure they were back. It was like not being able to feel for a while and then suddenly realizing that there were limbs there. Bit by bit things were coming back from bottom to top. There was a bleep on the machine as his frame shuddered. It was surprise, though, not so much a rush of pain or anything of that sort. After the pedes were functioning things just came back in a rush, all seeming to be eager to be felt again. The joints in his knees and shoulders were aching- like the feeling that you wanted to crack something to get rid of an air pocket but couldn't so it would just stay stiff- but that was understandable and it really wasn't anything he couldn't' handle. He'd SEEN those drills digging in so even if he hadn't been able to feel them, he knew there was to be some level of discomfort. Now the CHASSIS? That was an odd feeling. Breakdown was feeling exposed, more so now that he was able to feel the air hitting the sensors within. The metal around his spark chamber was starting to chill. He shifted on the berth, tensing his arms as his servos fisted. 

     "You mind... you know... closing me up now?" Breakdown's tone was eager, hoping that KnockOut would just hurry with it, but it wasn't meant to be rude in any way. He could feel.. and some of the feels he didn't like. Like that annoying little chill INSIDE his chassis. "Please?"

[Knock Out]

“I never said you were, Breakdown.”

Knock Out smirked, not taking his attention off the screen as Breakdown would begin to get feeling into his frame once more. The occasional wary glance was still made to his partner out of concern, but he was mostly just watching the screen should things go horribly wrong. He was half expecting to have to jump in to either turn off the pain receptors in an area because the pain was unbearable, or to jump in and quickly patch something up that he'd somehow missed.

“The truth, obviously,” He tsk'd. “Then again, I'd know if you were lying.”

He continued to watch and wait. His stiff posture visibly relaxing as more time went on and more feeling would be returned into Breakdown. No alarms were blaring. There were no cries or whimpers of pain. Everything looked good. Physically? Breakdown was okay. The dents and scuffs would buff out, and while he'd be a little achy? There was no lasting damage.

Mentally would be another story, but Knock Out would deal with that and help Breakdown through it as it came. He was already prepping himself for the nightmares that his partner would no doubt have. That was part of why Knock Out wanted him to take a break – nothing like him having a freak out while assisting on a patient. While he'd never openly admit it, Breakdown was a flight risk when he was having one of his 'moments' and the less damage he did the better. He could trash their quarters with no harm done, but he didn't want to risk Breakdown smashing up the Medical Bay and drawing unwanted attention to his.. Defect. Megatron had already refused to aid in rescuing him, he didn't want to give him any more reason to question why he was even around.

“I was just about to, just be patient!” He gently teased, knowing that Breakdown was probably getting restless about being restrained. He would too. “I wanted to make sure everything came back as it was supposed to, that's all. Now we can move on to that. I do warn you though, that since you can feel pain again, it.. Ah, will probably hurt. I'll be as quick as I can, but do not rush me.”

He'd lean up on the tips of his pedes to pull down the crane apparatus once more, only this time the 'H' shaped metal bars he would open wider than before, clamping them down onto the sides of the V shaped hinge they'd created – then he would tighten it quickly. Breakdown would feel a painful, dull ache as his chassis was closed. The metal bars would hold the chassis closed and in place, and there would be a familiar hiss of hydraulics as Knock Out's servo would shift, quickly being replaced by the soldiering iron.

“Close your optic, this will be bright and there will be sparks. Don't want to damage the only optic you have left now, do we?”

He'd hum in thought while Breakdown closed his optic, reaching over to quickly grab a cylinder of bonding agent and using it along the seam which he'd cut into previously. Then he would lean in to seal it with the soldiering iron once he was certain Breakdown had his optic closed. His movements were slow, probably painfully slow for Breakdown. But Knock Out wanted to do a proper job of this so it'd heal up properly and without a mark. He didn't want Breakdown going around with an ugly seam mark now, did he?

Once he was finally done with closing up Breakdown's chassis, he would gently ease the 'H' shaped tool away and would take a step back to admire his work. In a day or so he would buff everything properly and give Breakdown some fresh paint. Nobody would even realize that there had been work done.

“Everything still okay? Not in too much pain?”