Chapter Text
There were times when silence spoke volumes louder than could ever be voiced. Silence didn’t speak up, it descended. It enveloped.
The silence in the bridge room was so thick, Knock Out could practically taste it. He hadn’t paused in his work, but the quiet stillness seemed to swallow every sound produced by his hands swiftly plugging leaks and pulling damaged cabling free of the wound in the side of the young mech he crouched over.
There was damage to his t-cog, but it didn’t look fresh. It also wasn’t the cause of a wound, but rather a virus long eradicated. Knock Out filed this information away and tried to devote as much of his attention to the red and white mech as he could.
The mech who had been assisting him at first was now standing and staring across the bridge room. Knock Out was momentarily distracted by the waves of rage and betrayal rolling off of him, and even more distracted by the sudden jolt of panic he felt over the newly formed bond between him and his Conjux, Wheeljack.
“You.” There was so much venom in the standing mech’s voice that Knock Out looked up to see who he was addressing.
“Perceptor.” Wheeljack said from across the bridge room. “You’re alive.”
“No thanks to you.” Perceptor growled.
The young mech Knock Out was working on gurgled and coughed, the medic reaching up and unclasping the face mask the mech wore.
“You left me for dead!” Perceptor said furiously, and Knock Out felt his EM field erupt with anguish.
“I would never have done that.” Wheeljack protested, Knock Out sucking air in through his vents sharply and attempting to clear the Energon pooling in his patient’s mouth away. “You know I would never have done that!”
“You ran away like a coward!” Perceptor shouted, then he was moving away from Knock Out, moving towards Wheeljack with intent. “You ran and you left me there to die!”
“Well you’re not dead, so that’s obviously not true.” Wheeljack’s voice had taken on a familiar edge.
Knock Out patted the faceplates of his patient to draw his attention. “Hello, little one.” He said cheerfully. “Can you tell me your name?”
“F-first… First Aid.” The young mech gasped, Energon escaping from several of his vents as he tried to frantically cycle air.
“Don’t panic, First Aid.” Knock Out said. There was a large shard of metal lodged in First Aid’s protoform, the source of his heavy bleeding, but there was no way Knock Out could remove it here on the floor. “We’re going to have to get you to the med-bay so I can treat you properly. Don’t move, alright?” He looked up at the others, seeing that Ultra Magnus had moved between Perceptor and Wheeljack to keep them from coming to blows. “A little help here, please?”
Bumblebee was the one who responded first, the former Scout shaking Bulkhead out of his stunned reverie and bringing him over. “Figure it would be easier for Bulk to just pick him up. Unless that won’t work?”
“As long as he isn’t jostled too much, it’ll be fine.” Knock Out replied, and Bulkhead nodded, leaning down to gingerly gather First Aid in his arms.
Keep me updated? Knock Out asked through the bond, Wheeljack glancing at him and giving him a stiff jerk of his head that qualified as a nod. Springer also looked over at him, a dangerous glint in the large Wrecker’s optics.
“You got this, Bulkhead?” Springer asked.
“I’ve got this. C’mon Doc Knock.” Bulkhead said, shifting First Aid to a more comfortable position. “He’s not as light as he looks.”
“Commander, we’re taking First Aid to the med-bay. Please comm me if you need anything, sir.” Knock Out said to Ultra Magnus, who made a noise of affirmation, his mouth turned down.
“See that he survives.” Springer said. “You might not like what’ll happen if he doesn’t, ‘Con.”
Knock Out waited for someone to say something, someone to tell the Wrecker off, but they were all just shifting uncomfortably where they stood. “I will give nothing but my utmost best, Springer.” He finally said himself. “Under my care, you can expect First Aid to make a complete recovery.”
Of course the Wrecker scoffed, but Ultra Magnus spoke up, told him to mind his manners while speaking to an Autobot officer. Knock Out urged Bumblebee and Bulkhead to follow him to the med-bay. Hot, prickly embarrassment tinged Bulkhead’s field while Bumblebee kept his own tight to his frame and guarded.
It was the small hours of the morning before Knock Out heard anything from Wheeljack. He was in the washracks, attempting to clean the Energon from the joints and seams in his arms when he felt an affectionate pulse along the bond. Turning, he saw Wheeljack leaning against the door frame, watching him with a smile.
“Well?” Knock Out asked, turning back to continue washing. He felt arms snake around his torso and the weight of a chin drop onto his shoulder. He offered a short, somewhat irritated but fond pulse through their bond, and Wheeljack ex-vented.
“Gotta hate it when your past comes back to bite you in the aft.” He said, grumbling beneath his breath.
“What exactly was the sniper shouting about?” Knock Out asked, letting Wheeljack assist him with a particularly difficult spot on the underside of his arm.
“Last time I saw Percy, he’d been shot through the spark by a ‘Con piece of slag. I thought he was dead, so I went to find said piece of slag and proceeded to beat him to death with my bare hands. Perceptor, being the picture of logic and sound reason he is, figures I ran like a sparkling and left him there to die.” Wheeljack explained far more calmly than Knock Out would have expected. Still, the Wrecker pulled back away from him and ex-vented once more, slowly and deliberately. “I thought he was dead.” He repeated.
“I thought Autobots were usually better behaved than that. Mind you, I guess Perceptor IS a Wrecker.” Knock Out turned off the tap and moved to towel down, Wheeljack going back to grumbling. “They can be awfully rude.”
“Suppose, yeah.” Wheeljack muttered. He was putting more distance between the two of them now and avoiding Knock Out’s optics. “Look, there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you.” The medic looked over at him expectantly, which just deepened the Wrecker’s discomfort. “Perceptor and I were lovers.” When Knock Out continued saying nothing, Wheeljack’s armor began to bristle defensively. “We shared one night together and talked about maybe makin’ things a bit more serious, but then, the war, and he was shot and…” He trailed off, scarred mouth twisting.
Knock Out stared at him, then turned away. He carefully folded his towel and draped it over his arm, his EM field making the room feel a few degrees cooler. “Worst. Honeymoon. Ever.” He said, stepping towards the door.
“KO.” Wheeljack followed swiftly, though his footsteps shuffled to a stop when they both noticed Ultra Magnus standing just up the hall. “Come on…” Wheeljack said, reaching out to take Knock Out’s arm.
“I need a word with you, doctor.” Ultra Magnus called, Knock Out glancing at Wheeljack before nodding at the Commander.
We’ll talk later. At length. Knock Out said to Wheeljack, who visibly deflated behind him with all the grace of a kicked turbo-fox.
The Commander escorted him not to his office, but into the comm room. A few of the Vehicons who were working looked over but returned to their work almost immediately. One of them greeted the Commander politely and with a little wave of its hand. The buzz of private comms was anything but surreptitious but if it bothered Ultra Magnus, he didn’t express it outwardly.
“I’ve already spoken to Springer regarding this manner but thought it best to also speak to you.” Ultra Magnus said, drawing himself up to his full and rather impressive height. “I will not tolerate any poor behavior on this base. Not from you, not from him, not from anyone. If he antagonizes you, I expect you to report it to me without resorting to any retaliation.” The Commander then turned to look around the room. “That goes for the rest of you as well. There will obviously be some things that will take getting used to, but I will not hesitate to punish or incarcerate anyone who breaks the rules.”
The Vehicons looked at him, looked at one another, then began vowing up and down as one that there would be no problems on their end. Knock Out regarded Ultra Magnus without speaking while they said what they needed to, waiting until the Commander’s attention was on him again.
“I trust we will all be safe?” Knock Out said, Ultra Magnus’ optics widening. “We made a vow when our war finally ended. We are here, serving a new cause, the remnants of what we used to be just scars that only show up in the right light. Will we be safe from the overzealous who weren’t here to see the end?”
“I am you Commander. I also took a vow to protect all those who chose to follow me when I stepped up to fill Optimus Prime’s position.” Ultra Magnus said in a level voice, though there was a very hard edge to it. “I am nothing if not a mech of my word. I will continue to see justice is served, Knock Out.”
“Then by all means, I will avoid seeking personal retaliation for anything Springer or any other Autobot might throw my way in the days to come.” Knock Out lifted his chin and met Ultra Magnus’ optics. “Petty revenge is so rude.”
Magnus donned an almost imperceptible frown. Nodding sternly, the Commander turned to go, uttering a quiet dismissal. Knock Out watched him, then briefly shuttered his optics and vented in something like relief.
“Thank you.” One of the Vehicons said in a hushed voice above him on a comm platform. Knock Out looked up at it, arching a brow. “That was really nice of you.”
“I think he was just acting in self preservation.” A second Vehicon leaned over, waving a hand dismissively.
“No.” Said the first. “He said ‘we.’ As in all of us.”
“I can stand up for myself just fine.” Knock Out interrupted the arguing drones. “I might not be the most heavily armored or armed, but my frame isn’t going to crumple like tissue paper if someone pats me on the back.”
“See?” Vehicon 1 said pointedly, the other scoffing and returning to its work. “Thank you again, sir.”
Shrugging his shoulders and shaking his helm, Knock Out turned and left the room. He had to go find his Conjux. They had a lot to talk about.
Bulkhead stifled a yawn behind one large hand, looking up at the vast, star strewn sky above him. Sitting next to him, Wheeljack drained the cube of high grade he was holding and opened his vents to let out a heavy, frustrated sigh.
“I gotta admit, I’m a bit worried about you, Jackie.” Bulkhead said softly, Wheeljack frowning over at him. “Things have been happening really fast. It’s been crazy.”
“Yeah, guess it has.” Wheeljack said, tossing his empty cube to join the small pile of others behind them. “Still can’t believe so much of the old crew’s shown up.” He paused, shifting where he sat. “They probably shouldn’t know about me and Knock Out. Not yet. Just gimme some time to tell ‘em.”
“I can’t see that blowing up in your faceplates.” Bulkhead muttered, and Wheeljack gave him a pained look. “It’s not a good sign that you want to hide it from them. And that you’re asking me to lie about it.”
“What do you mean?” Wheeljack frowned a little more, Bulkhead sitting up straighter. “Bulkhead?”
“I just mean… maybe you shouldn’t have rushed it. Maybe you and Knock Out should have taken a little more time to figure things out before jumping in with both feet.” Bulkhead said, rubbing the back of his helm.
“I’m a Wrecker. We do everything by jumping in with both feet, Bulkhead.” Wheeljack said, optics narrowed. “Is it cause he’s an ex-Con?”
“It’s not that.” Bulkhead said, and Wheeljack believed him. “It’s just… really out of character for you. You’ve never been the type to settle down, Jackie. Since we met, you’ve always been on the move. You crave wide open spaces, new adventures! I can’t help feeling that maybe you should have waited to see if this was really what you wanted.”
Wheeljack was silent for awhile, staring up at the sky. He drummed his fingers on the ground in irritation, and he seemed to be musing over what Bulkhead had said. Still concerned, Bulkhead watched him but didn’t break the silence.
“I thought I was in love once before. I told you that.” Wheeljack said after a time. “Me an’ Percy… I thought that was it, Bulk.”
“I remember that conversation. I thought you were drunk.” Bulkhead said. He would have chuckled, but it didn’t seem appropriate.
“I was gonna ask to court him. Just had to get the nerve… Then that fraggin’ Decepticon came around again. It wasn’t enough that he had taken all my friends, I was witness to him takin’ my lover too.” Wheeljack clenched his hands into fists and lowered his optics. “I was an engineer, I wasn’t a fraggin’ medic. I didn’t know Perceptor survived that shot.”
“That’s not your fault, Jackie.” Bulkhead said, putting a hand on Wheeljack’s shoulder. “I don’t know how anyone could have-”
“Blah blah blah.” Wheeljack batted Bulkhead’s hand away and scowled. “Y’know what I did after I killed that son of a bitch? I learned how to prevent what happened to Perceptor from happenin’ to anyone else. I trained as a Wrecker, sure, but I also trained briefly as a field medic. Trauma specialization!”
Bulkhead’s optics widened and he sat back. “That’s how you saved Knock Out.” He said, Wheeljack sneering at him.
“I saw it all happenin’ again. All of it happenin’ right in front of me and I couldn’t let it.” Getting to his feet, Wheeljack began pacing. “I never meant for it to get to that point! It was just flirting, and then it was just fragging, but then… the Insecticons… and on the ship, I-”
“Wheeljack, what if what you’re feeling for Knock Out is some sort of PTSD? Cause of what happened to Perceptor?” Bulkhead exclaimed, also standing.
“Don’t be so fraggin’ stupid, Bulkhead.” Wheeljack said, jabbing his finger into Bulkhead’s chest. “I hadn’t even thought of Perceptor until I watched KO get gunned down in front of me. It’s not PTSD.” He annunciated every letter with vitriol and bared his denta.
Wheeljack’s anger simply grew when Bulkhead’s shoulders slumped and he looked away. There was guilt and regret radiating from the larger mech’s field.
“Jackie, I…” Bulkhead started, but anything else he wanted to say trailed off and he closed his optics.
“You were a lot more supportive a week ago.” Wheeljack said. “Maybe Springer’s rubbin’ off on you. I’m done here.” He waved a hand and turned to go inside. “I’m goin’ to recharge.”
Wheeljack honestly couldn’t say he was surprised that Knock Out was standing just inside the door wearing a slightly guilty expression.
“I want to say, this isn’t what it looks like, but if it looks like I’m eavesdropping on you, it’s because I am.” Knock Out said, stepping closer. “We need to talk.”
“Not here.” Wheeljack said, lowering his optics. “Med-bay.”
“Med-bay?” Knock Out arched a brow and folded his arms. “Why the med-bay? Why not our room?”
“One of us might need the med-bay once we’re done talkin’.” Wheeljack gave him a rather cheeky expression and Knock Out rolled his optics.
“I wish I could say you’re wrong about that.” He said, gesturing for Wheeljack to follow him.
They made their way to the med-bay without encountering more than a few late shift Vehicons, a few of which seemed happy to see Knock Out if their cheerful greetings were any indication. Once the doors were locked and they had settled across from one another, Knock Out in a chair and Wheeljack leaning on a med berth, the medic folded his arms again.
“I don’t think Bulkhead was completely wrong.” He said, Wheeljack staring at him like he was speaking in tongues. “About this being rushed.”
“Maybe.” Wheeljack said in a rather petulant manner. “You havin’ second thoughts?”
“No.” Knock Out said.
“Good. Cause I ain’t either.” Wheeljack lifted his chin defiantly and drummed his fingers on the med berth.
“Still. Bulkhead isn’t wrong. We did rush this. Normally there’s a great deal more time between the initial ‘I like you’ to the actual bonding process. While I don’t regret it and I’m fairly sure I have strong enough feelings for you to have bonded to you, it was still a little more whirlwind than I would have liked. I believe I might have mentioned that a time or two before.” Knock Out said, frowning.
“I love you. I’ve said it a few times and I still believe it. I need you to believe it too.” Wheeljack said, straightening. “I kinda don’t care if we rushed it.”
“I do believe it. I can feel it.” Knock Out stated, nudging the bond. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not feeling a tad less confident about where I stand now, though. Especially when adding the first love of your life into the mix.”
“Remember that conversation we had? The one about Breakdown?” Wheeljack said in a level voice, Knock Out flinching. “Same rules apply here, KO. Don’t compare yourself to him. Don’t think you’re some sorta replacement for him. He doesn’t even register on the same level as you.”
“But he did once. That’s the problem.” Knock Out said, shifting and glancing away. “I know you’re the sort that, once committed to a thing, doesn’t just flit off when something potentially more exciting comes along. But it seems these Wreckers are awfully persuasive, whether they’re meaning to be or not.”
“I loved him once, Knock Out. But then he died. He was dead to me. I learned to get past the pain I felt, losing him. I learned to let go.” Wheeljack ex-vented weakly and closed his optics tight. “I was never bonded to him so I can’t say that I understand exactly how it felt when you lost Breakdown, but I can assure you that you mean more to me than Perceptor ever did. Alright?”
Knock Out made an indeterminate noise and shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes a mech just needs to hear it put into words.” He said, Wheeljack groaning and putting his hand to his face.
“Spoiled brat.” Smirking, the Wrecker met his optics. “I think we ought to get some rest. There’s probably going to be a lot more slag to deal with tomorrow.”
“You go. Recharge. I’m going to stay and get some work done.” Knock Out said, getting to his feet. “While I think it’s a terrible idea, I’ll respect your initial decision to keep our relationship a secret from the Wreckers for the time being, but I think you ought to tell them before they find out from someone else.”
Wheeljack grimaced, then nodded. “Guess the honeymoon’s over.” He muttered.
“I have no doubt we’ll make it up to one another in the future.” Knock Out raised a hand and waved with a brief smile, and Wheeljack hesitantly left the med-bay. After his Conjux was gone, Knock Out reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seriously. The worst. Just the worst honeymoon.” He said to himself.