Chapter Text
Life beyond the Nemesis was strange. The vast emptiness of the plains offered no privacy, but still it was understood that nobody would find them. (And if someone did, Knock Out suggested, they could always dispose of the evidence and move out.)
Still, there was something comforting about the endless fields the two found themselves in, at least to Breakdown. His wheels - that is, on his wheelchair - sometimes got stuck in the grasses and wheat, but it was less cold and clinical than the dimly lit halls of their former ship. It didn’t feel like home, but it was much closer. Their former hab suite never really felt right: too small, too uniform, and much too unwelcoming. Everything was the same, everything was in its place, but it wasn’t theirs. This wasn’t quite right, but it was a step in the right direction.
“Do we wanna settle down at some point?” Breakdown asked, offering a casual conversation after a day or so of wandering aimlessly. “There isn’t much chance of finding a base like we had before, but there’s gotta be something.”
Knock Out, still following behind with the trailer in tow, thought for a moment. “Hm. I suppose so, especially so we can work on, well… fixing all of this.”
“Mhm.” Breakdown surveyed the horizon - still nothing. “We should look for some kinda barn, I think. Then you can have somewhere clean to stay, we can recharge on a buncha pillows instead of those awful berths they had on the Nemesis… we could do it up all, you know. Cozy.”
“You make a very persuasive argument,” Knock Out chuckled, “but the chances of us finding an abandoned barn are, unfortunately, very slim. Humans tend to keep things for a long time - long in their terms, rather - so unless Primus is offering us some kind of reparation for what we’ve been through, I doubt that--”
Knock Out wasn’t sure when the silhouette had appeared in the distance. The closer they got to it, however, the more they realized that they had indeed stumbled across a kind of reparation from Primus.
A quick scan showed that the barn was miles from anything, which was a blessing so great that Knock Out could overlook how messy the inside was. There was dirt everywhere , the wood inside was beginning to rot, and he could’ve sworn he saw something skitter through a hole in the wall when he stepped inside.
“Well, it’s disgusting,” Knock Out said, folding his arms, “but it’s empty.”
Cleanup didn’t take long, in the grand scheme of things. Sure, they didn’t have the proper equipment, and sure, about halfway through they might have gotten distracted when Breakdown offered to clean the dirt from Knock Out’s frame, but it got done in time for the two to curl up on top of a blanket and fall into recharge.
According to his chronometer, it was 1:43 in the morning when Breakdown onlined. Which was odd, he concluded, because he’d set his systems to shut down until 6:00. A bit irritated at the glitch, he set it for 6:00 again, and shuttered his optics closed. But for some unfathomable reason, his systems couldn’t even idle properly.
“Knock Out,” he whispered, nudging his partner gently, “you awake?”
No response, not even a tired murmur. He was completely offline. Sure, he could be woken up, but… that’d be selfish, wouldn’t it?
Breakdown was thankful, for once, that Knock Out hadn’t fallen into recharge with his arms around him; as it had been the other way around, it was no challenge to untangle himself and climb onto his wheelchair.
Their new base looked different in the moonlight, Breakdown realized. The chipped paint and unsightly floorboards were all but hidden in the darkness, and only the things he liked were illuminated: the metal of their trailer, the little flowers around the barn, Knock Out’s slumbering frame curled up on his side, with his vibrant red biolights adding a second light source to him.
Breakdown missed Cybertron. He couldn’t deny it. Even now, there was a part of him that wished he was looking at two moons instead of one, despite how beautiful the view from right outside the door was. For a moment, he imagined Luna One was simply in shadow, and the clouds weren’t there, and the three birds flying overhead were a Seeker trine. But he knew that it wasn’t, none of them were. This wasn’t Cybertron, no matter how hard he wished.
But then again… he thought of the fond memories they’d had on Earth, before that day when they’d paused their scouting for an energon deposit in Greece when they saw that Starscream had sent them a memo titled URGENT - Respond within this cycle or I will find you. They’d travelled to dozens of different land masses - countries, they later found out they were called. All of them had provided for a different experience, almost like they were all on different planets.
There was the time Knock Out had taken Breakdown to a gorgeous race track in Germany, the name of which Breakdown had trouble remembering, and offered to only win their race by a little bit. There was their trip to Seoul, where Breakdown had marvelled at how many different colored LED signs the humans had managed to fit into one street. There was the time Breakdown had suggested driving through an apparently dangerous salt pan in Bolivia, which Knock Out had vehemently disapproved of, and yet two days later they were leaning on a cliffside, cleaning salt deposits out of each other’s wheels and laughing at how gross it was.
Knock Out, Breakdown thought, might not have laughed if they had done that now.
He’d gotten colder, more mature, although so had Breakdown. They’d both seen war, through the good and the bad, that much was obvious. But it’d never been personal. If Breakdown commed that he’d been shot and the other Stunticons had left him behind, Knock Out would have had him repaired within the solar cycle. If Knock Out was defenseless and in over his head, Breakdown would have dropped everything and helped him out. But on the Nemesis, what with the Autobots and MECH, it was very rare when the other was allowed to come to the rescue.
If they got hurt or made a mistake, it was their fault. They were left to die. End of story.
And that was more painful than the injuries and even death the two of them had been through, in Breakdown’s point of view. The fact that they were supposed to be on their own. Sure, the two had tried to oppose that, they’d tried to pair up as often as they could… but some things were unavoidable. Sometimes you had to accept that morning would come, and nobody would be there to hold your servo and tell you that you were gonna make it.
However, when morning came to the barn, Breakdown found that Knock Out’s servo was in his, as the previously recharging mech had woken up from his absence. Breakdown apologized, but Knock Out assured him that it was fine, he just wanted to make sure he was okay.
That was how he knew that things were going to get better, Breakdown decided. Not the moonlight, not the barn, not the solitude or the freedom or the independence… it was the servo so small that he could wrap his own around it, Knock Out’s five fingers fitting in between Breakdown’s four perfectly. That moment, despite its brevity, was the safest Breakdown had felt in as long as he could remember.
---
It wasn’t long before the barn started looking like it belonged to them both. They’d moved a good portion of their belongings - specifically anything that could be used as furniture and decorations - inside, only keeping important items in the trailer. While there wasn’t a lot of room left to move around, as the barn was hardly bigger than their hab suite, they’d divided it into recharging and living areas at least, the former defined by the large tarp covering bales of hay they’d found behind the barn.
Despite their additions, everything still felt temporary. “And I know this isn’t our permanent home,” Knock Out said one day, “but I feel like it could benefit from a bit of a makeover.”
“When have you said something couldn’t benefit from a makeover?” Breakdown joked, carefully resting an arm around Knock Out’s shoulder.
Knock Out rolled his optics. “Us, obviously. We’re already perfect.”
“Tell that to the Knock Out that said I should paint filigree all over myself.”
“First of all, I never said all over, I just meant a little bit.” Knock Out replied, adjusting himself on their makeshift couch so he could rest his helm against Breakdown’s shoulder, “And second of all… I was only saying that we should, you know, spruce the place up a bit. And that was where I was going to segue into saying that we should venture out and see if we can find a town.”
“Hm.” Breakdown looked away, bringing his free servo up to tap his chin inquisitively. “I guess we could. But I don’t really think there’s anywhere big nearby… and you remember what happened the last time we stole stuff from a little town?”
“Someone threw a rock and cracked my window, and the local police were on us within the hour,” Knock Out shuddered. “How could I forget.”
“You ever think about getting holoforms? It’d make things a whole lot easier,” Breakdown said, looking over at Knock Out, whose grimace faded back into a neutral expression.
“Please,” he said, “You know what I think about humans. They’re all so… ugh. Strange looking.”
Breakdown chuckled - something he’d been doing a lot more often over the past few days in the barn. “What about that movie star you said was pretty? That, uh… from those black and white movies. Rita... something?”
“ Rita Hayworth’s beauty isn’t exactly of this time,” Knock Out said, examining his fingertips, noticing how they hadn’t been sharpened in far too long. “Times change, as do tastes. Despite the fact that her appearances in the movies we’ve seen would still be considered pretty, it would be conspicuous.”
“Hm. Know anyone nowadays you think would be pretty enough to design a holoform after?” Breakdown asked, tapping his finger idly.
Knock Out looked down, eyebrows furrowed, before answering. “Who was the lady from that horror film we saw in 1990, the one with the short red hair? She was rather pretty.”
“Don’t think I remember,” Breakdown said, “but anyone you think is--”
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a clap of thunder so loud it seemed to shake the whole barn. Breakdown stood up with a start, ignoring his wheelchair. Before Knock Out could stop him, he was stumbling to the doorway and pulling the trailer inside.
“Breakdown!” Knock Out cried, steadying his partner as his pedes caught beneath him. “You’re not… ugh, you’re not stable yet!”
Still, despite Breakdown’s shaking legs, they made it inside with the trailer. “I… I didn’t want it getting struck by lightning,” he said, vocalizer stuttering. He fell down soon after, collapsing onto his side with a grunt.
Then… something happened. A moment after he hit the ground, he felt a splitting pain in the side of his helm, about where he had fallen. The pain quickly turned into a dull, numb feeling in his processor, as he was pushed onto his back against his will. He started to feel as if the room was spinning, and the second thunderclap seemed much farther away, as did the tense servos holding his helm up...
Breakdown felt as though he was underwater, strangely enough. Everything seemed murky and much too dim, and things that he knew were supposed to be stationary wobbled and faded randomly. Gravity felt seemed if it were pushing him down… no, he felt the bonds on his wrists and ankles, he felt Silas in his chest cavity, Knock Out’s energon prod was sending currents of electricity throughout his frame, paralyzing him, he couldn’t move, MECH technicians were taking him apart, Airachnid was tearing him limb from limb and laughing, everything was cold and dark and he was alone, and…
When he onlined, Knock Out was sitting beside him, both of his servos holding one of Breakdown’s weakly. His expression could only be described as distant, as if he was completely frozen.
“Knock Out,” he said -- or he tried to say, but no sound came out.
This is just a nightmare, Breakdown thought, so just slip into recharge and wait for it to be over.
Except recharge didn’t come, because it never came when he wanted it to anymore. He always had to wait until he was getting warnings every klik that his systems were starting to lose power before he was able to rest for the night, no matter how tired he was. And at the moment, he felt exhausted, but still he was forced to watch Knock Out staring through him.
This torture went on for ages, neither saying a word, even after Knock Out seemed to come out of his strange daze. His optics met Breakdown’s for just a moment, and if his mind had been elsewhere, Breakdown would not have felt the incredibly brief pressure of Knock Out holding his servo tighter, before slipping away.
Oddly, Breakdown fell back offline when Knock Out stood up and walked somewhere outside of his field of view.
He woke up once again an unknown length of time later. Breakdown surveyed the area and found he was lying on their bed, holding something in his servo. He lifted it to his face, grateful that he now had control of his body, and widened his optic when a scrap of paper fell from the object he’d picked up.
‘Breakdown:’ it read, ‘Went out to look for a town. Should be back before morning (today’s Tuesday, by the way, you’ve been offline since Sunday). Message me if you online before I’m back. Love, KO.’
In his servo, Breakdown realized, was Knock Out’s innermost energon. He looked over the vial for a moment; it had been months since he’d seen it. The energon was a silvery violet, glimmering in the dim light let in by the few windows. Instead of the ornate gold paint Breakdown had chosen to decorate his with, Knock Out’s had a geometric pattern in pink, drawn with a steady servo but still one not as well-versed in detailing as Breakdown was.
::Knock Out?:: Breakdown messaged after he’d placed the necklace around his neck.
::Oh thank Primus.:: was the immediate reply. ::How are you feeling? Should I come home now, or do you mind if I stay for a little while longer?::
::You can stay. Did you find something?::
::Yes, I found a cute little town an hour west of here. The locals stared at me, though, so if you want to come visit we should wait until everyone’s asleep.::
::Or,:: Breakdown replied, noticing how the vial refracted light in ways he hadn’t seen before, ::we could just make holoforms…? It can’t be that bad, KO. I think you’d make a pretty human.::
For some reason, Knock Out took a while to reply. Breakdown imagined he’d gotten distracted; maybe he’d seen a muscle car he’d say he wished was a Cybertronian, or a modded pickup truck whose additions he’d mutter about being “an insult to its rugged beauty”.
::I don’t think the humans here like me:: he said after some time had passed.
::Why not?::
::Well, I parked in the outskirts of the town to message you, and now someone’s shouting at me. He thinks I’m being ‘too damn loud at this time of night’ and ‘making a fool of him’... oh, I just saw his car, and…::
::It’s bad?:: Breakdown asked, sitting up.
:: Very. Now he’s telling me to ‘get out of the car’... tough for him, I’m not about to s::
The message was sent prematurely, it seemed. Typically when this happened, Knock Out would quickly reply with a mild expletive, and correct his typo. This time, however, the expletive was delayed significantly and the typo wasn’t corrected.
::Slag.:: was all that he sent for a moment, though he continued his train of thought when Breakdown didn’t reply. ::The human opened my door, he got it about halfway before I realized what was happening. I slammed it shut, and I guess I hit him with it somehow? When I closed it he’d fallen over and was holding his head. I drove away, but a bunch of humans saw me… I’m gonna try and lose ‘em, but I think we might get the police called on us again.::
Breakdown groaned and leaned back on the bed. ::Should I start packing?::
Another pause, though shorter this time. ::I think so. I’m sorry for bothering you, you should be resting.::
::It’s not your fault, humans are just squishy and fragile.::
Knock Out arrived at the barn to find Breakdown waiting for him in his alt mode, with the trailer full of their belongings. He skidded to a stop, ignoring the grass dirtying his tires. “Breakdown, what are you doing? You know I hadn’t sanctioned use of your alt mode yet, who knows if you’re ready?! ” Knock Out scolded, wishing he was in his root mode so he could put his servos on his hips.
“I’m in disguise,” Breakdown said shortly, revving his engine. “Let’s move out now, especially if you’re being followed.”
Knock Out simply stared for a while, but eventually conceded. “We’re pulling over the second they give up,” he said, driving considerably slower in the direction he’d been going.
---
“How many hours has it been, Knock Out?” Breakdown commed later that day.
“Seven. You still want to keep going?”
Breakdown lessened his pace, allowing for Knock Out to pull into the lane beside him. “Kansas wasn’t right for us. You know that, I know that… so we’re driving until I can’t anymore,” he replied, letting his frame relax.
Knock Out pulled a little closer for a moment, but moved back. “Breakdown, don’t overexert yourself. Do you feel completely fine? Not even a bit tired?”
“Knock Out, I’m alright. We can stop in a little while if you want, but… that place was good, but it wasn’t where we should be.”
“While I agree with you,” Knock Out said, and Breakdown could hear his radio switching off over the commlink, “where do you think we should be?”
Breakdown thought for a moment - Knock Out figured he must have been thinking very hard, because his headlights dimmed somewhat. “A hangar, maybe. Big enough so it can be like an apartment. Out of the way, but within a few hours of a city, so we can go do stuff. And I want a really big tree to sit under,” he added as an afterthought.
Knock Out chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The two were quiet for the next few hours. Knock Out found himself growing weary - it was long past his allotted time for recharge - but he still kept driving. Anxiously, he tried to pick up the conversation: “So how long do you plan on staying on this little water world?”
“As long as we gotta. We don’t have a ship or anything, so… whenever someone comes to pick us up, I guess, we go with them. Maybe the Stunticons’ll come looking for me… though I doubt it, I don’t even know if they’re all still online.”
“Hm.” Knock Out found his gaze travelling elsewhere. It landed on the headlights on the other side of the road, going too fast to get a good look at any individual model. They all had places to be, he thought, while he did not. “You know, even though I still think humans are a bit strange, I’ve grown to quite like Earth.”
“Really?” Breakdown noticed Knock Out’s fading interest in his EM field, but didn’t make any reference to it. “Maybe we should become ‘bots then. We’d have a place to stay, at least… I think they’d be a little nicer than the ‘cons.”
Knock Out didn’t respond, so Breakdown kept talking. “I dunno, though. I really don’t wanna see Bulkhead again, especially when I’m still kinda beat up. I thought that maybe we could patch things up in the future, but… I doubt it. We’ve both done too much damage to move past.”
“I suppose. But our chances of running into the Autobots are very slim… it’s been, what, three weeks since we left? Imagine what could’ve happened in our absence.” Knock Out paused for a few minutes, letting the thought process. “The ‘bots could’ve won the war at this rate, especially without us.”
---
Knock Out wished they had a location in mind when they set out, aside from just “not here”. They’d driven on and off for days - sometimes on the highway, sometimes on town roads, it depended on how they were feeling.
He wasn’t quite sure where they were, only that they were still driving west. They passed rowhouses and coffee shops, little humans with sunglasses and coffees and denim shorts, seagulls and dogs and the occasional drop-dead gorgeous convertible. All of the cars they’d seen over the past few hours had a sort of charm, he thought. There were the typical beauties - muscle cars, Rolls Royces, et cetera - but there were also adorable little electric cars, a couple scuffed up off-roaders, and even a sophisticated-looking Oldsmobile. Something about the way the bright sun reflected off of the cars’ paint made them look… well, just better.
After a length of time, the traffic and sidewalks became more densely populated, to the point where hardly anyone was moving. It was annoying, yes, but it gave Knock Out some time to think.
“Breakdown,” he commed after he’d been stuck in one spot for at least five minutes, “what do you think of this place?”
“It’s cute. Reminds me of you, kinda.”
Knock Out thought on that. He supposed Breakdown was right; he felt very at home in this… town. City. Whatever it was. Curiously, he checked his long-since ignored GPS to figure out where exactly they were.
“We’re in Los Angeles, California,” Knock Out said after a moment. “Home to about 3.8 million humans. So much for out of the way, hm?”
The traffic went on for hours. Knock Out still wasn’t sure where they were going, but wherever it was, they weren’t going to get there anytime soon. As the sun sank past the skyscrapers and palm trees, Knock Out found himself bored. Usually when this happened he’d try to start something interesting: ‘accidentally’ bump Breakdown’s arm, flirt with one of the Vehicons so they’d get flustered and run away, or just go for a drive and turn the radio up. But here on the crowded roads, there was no arm to bump into, no Vehicon to get riled up, and no straightaway to drive down as fast as he could.
Evidently Breakdown had gotten bored too, because he sent a message tagged as ‘Urgency: Minimum’. Knock Out opened the message, finding that it only said ::KO, look out your right window!::.
Breakdown’s window rolled down, revealing a tall, muscular human with tanned skin, messy silver hair, and a blue headband. The human winked, and rolled the window back up.
::You made a holoform, did you?:: Knock Out commed, hoping his smirk carried over in his voice.
::Yep. Sorry KO, I know you don’t like ‘em, but they’re really fun to make. If you want, you could give it a whirl and we could go on a date?::
Knock Out considered the idea. Before he could reply, however, a new file arrived into his inbox - this one labelled as ‘URGENT - PLAY IMMEDIATELY’.
::You get the urgent message too, Breakdown?::
::Sure did.::
He played the recording, curious as to why the sender was labelled as Bumblebee, when he couldn’t talk.
“Hello? Okay, we’re recording. Uh, hey, Cybertronians! This is the Autobot Bumblebee, of Team Prime, coming to you prerecorded from Cybertron. That’s right - Cybertron’s back! Megatron has disbanded the Decepticons, so we’ve worked together to bring life back. Now, there’s still a lot of rebuilding to do… so anybody out there, be you Autobot, Decepticon, non-aligned: come home. We need you here. I’m serious. Drop everything, say goodbye, and get on your ships. We’ll be waiting. Bumblebee out.”
Knock Out waited until he was sure Breakdown had finished the message before continuing their conversation thread. ::Seems like we’ve missed a lot, hm?::
::Yeah. Bumblebee got his voice back, Cybertron’s not dark anymore, I guess someone has a space bridge, Megatron broke up the team… scrap. How’re we gonna get back?::
::You said it yourself; we don’t have a ship, so we can’t. At least not yet. But for the time being… we’ve got this whole planet to ourselves, then, if everyone’s back home.::
He could’ve sworn he heard Breakdown chuckle to himself before replying. ::So, in that case… how about that date?::
Knock Out smiled, and with a bit of searching, activated his holoform creation plugin. ::Give me a few minutes. It’s not like I have any legitimate reason against it anymore.::