Chapter 1: Repairs
Chapter Text
Knockout stood in the med bay, patching up another Decepticon soldier’s deceptively brittle plating. The mech sitting on the berth shuddered, as sparks of tools hit his dark plating. Knockout growled softly, a warning to hold still. A warning to obey that Breakdown knew, so he did it. He stayed still, looking away to hide the amber flush along his rust toned faceplate.
“Alright sweetspark, tell me what you did this time?” Knockout laughed softly, running his sharp digit along the seam to test the stability once he’d gotten the plating along his shoulder solid again.
Breakdown shivered at the touch, letting out a soft groan. None of his injuries almost ever had cool stories, even if his bulky frame looked sturdy, he was fragile, and the plating that covered him felt brittle. He’d tried to fix it numerous times, tried every remedy, torn off his own plating, he’d tried to weld it himself, but it never solidified.
Chapter 2: Vermin
Summary:
It was quiet, cold. The ruins of the city were vermin-infested, and a faint buzzing of radios left on by old inhabitants drowned out any thoughts of leaving. The perfect backdrop for a foolish, nano-clicks long game. Breakdown and Bulkhead looked to eachother, then to the ball of scrap metal they’d found. They had time to hurl a ball, right?
Notes:
this chapter is sponsored by me having too much time on my hands and based off of a true story of that time I dislocated a rib in theater because my friend and I were tossing a ball back and fourth backstage.. and it hit me in the back and I couldn’t complain Bc we were not supposed to be back there
Chapter Text
Most Cybertronians, close to all, had their plating harden as they grew. Breakdown’s never fully hardened, prone to splitting, and prone to denting. Patching only did so
much, as it eventually flaked off much to his dismay. As a wrecker, he didn’t want to admit to any form of weakness, until he met Knockout.
It was at least a Millenia or three ago, before the war. Before he had to leave everything behind. He’d been on a task force with Bulkhead, breaking down the ruins of a once shining city, destroyed by what Megatron preached as progress, and Optimus detested as tyranny.
It was quiet, cold. The ruins of the city were vermin-infested, and a faint buzzing of radios left on by old inhabitants drowned out any thoughts of leaving. The perfect backdrop for a foolish, nano-clicks long game. Breakdown and Bulkhead looked to eachother, then to the ball of scrap metal they’d found. They had time to hurl a ball, right? And they did, but bulkhead had a heavy hand, forgot his friend was fragile, and knocked him back into the rough brick wall.
Bulkhead ran to him, helping him up. Knockout watched from the shadows, where he’d been scavenging for supplies. Bulkhead looked at Breakdown’s back plating. Torn up, and one of his ragged spinal struts was broken. Knockout’s bright red optics met Breakdown’s amber. The optics glowed out from the grim alley, but failed to illuminate the figure they belonged to.
Chapter 3: Stutter
Summary:
Breakdown winced, cursing under his breath. He tried to hide as knockout emerged, his paint stark against the gray backdrop. He sparkled even in the dull light, not a scratch on his frame. It was novel, odd, as the cyber-velocitronian hybrid strut towards them. His struts and servos were long, and thin, with sharp and slender digits and a narrow waist to match.
Notes:
ok back to my hole of not knowing wtf to do with this one
Chapter Text
Breakdown jumped back, startled with Bulkhead’s gentle hand still on his shoulder, but pulled it out of the socket. Breakdown winced, cursing under his breath. He tried to hide as knockout emerged, his paint stark against the gray backdrop. He sparkled even in the dull light, not a scratch on his frame. It was novel, odd, as the cyber-velocitronian hybrid strut towards them. His struts and servos were long, and thin, with sharp and slender digits and a narrow waist to match. He was a few heads shorter than Breakdown, but something in him still felt intimidating, new, intriguing. He’d be stunning if the alerts didn’t nearly cover Breakdown’s HUD.
Knockout couldn’t hold back a dull laugh, before springing into action. He always kept a Med kit on him.
“Wrecker, this might sting a bit.”
“W-What? Who are y-you?” Breakdown asked, his voice shaking as Knockout ran his slender digits along the plating of his shoulder, and along his spinal struts.
“The name’s Knockout.” The red mech said flatly, as he suddenly pushed the wrecker’s shoulder back into place, met with a sharp groan. “Those spinal struts don’t need patching, they just need time.” He shrugged, met with something short of wonder from the wreckers before him. He.. knew how to fix things better than the two could break things.