Decepticon Island (TF Aligned continuity AU)

ONE WILL LISTEN

"SCRAP! WHY WON'T THIS STUPID THING WORK?"

The agitated red mech yelled, slamming the still loading data pad on his desk.

"KNOCKOUT! WE NEED THAT!"

Another mech, white with red/orange detailing, snapped from the other end of the room.

"Calm down! Do you have any idea how expensive it is to replace anything here?"

"I KNOW!"

Knockout vented to cool off before he really made a mess of things.

"I know. Sorry, Ratchet. I'm just..."

Knockout leaned his elbow joints against the desk and lowered his faceplate into the open palms of his servos, letting an exasperated sigh escape him. He soon felt a heavy servo rest atop his shoulder plate.

"Others are still giving you a hard time," Ratchet stated grimly.

"You don't say," Knockout chuckled, voice lacking any sense of good humor.

Even after the Great War ended, Knockout knew things wouldn't magically become perfect. He was right in his assumptions, for post-war life was far from the peace and tranquility he hoped for. First, he served probation, then the False Council stepped in, and even after that was all taken care of and a new yet temporary Council was established...

"Knockout?"

The red mech snapped out of the past and was brought back to the present.

"Huh?"

"I was asking if you were alright to continue working," Ratchet said, sounding slightly irritated, which was nothing new. Knockout was getting quite used to the older medic's grumpiness.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ratchet stared at the younger mech, unconvinced.

"Right... but I know how you get before visiting your patient, and if I'm not mistaken, your next scheduled visit is... tomorrow."

"Err... scrap," Knockout moaned, slamming his helm onto his desk. A ping followed, and the red mech turned his helm to get a better look.

The data pad he beat out of frustration for failing to load quickly was online and functioning properly.

"Oh, sure, now you decide to work."

Knockout heard Ratchet chuckle as he removed his servo from his shoulder plate and walked away.

"Go get some rest, Knockout," Ratchet said without looking up from his own data pad. "Something tells me you're going to need it."

"Yeah," Knockout replied half-heartedly. He pushed himself up and away from his desk, grabbed some personal items to bring back home, and left.

He checked out of the clinic and exited the building, but instead of transforming to drive home, he stayed in bipedal mode and walked. Even if everyone else didn't like having to share the streets with him, Knockout didn't really care. Nowadays, he's just happy to have company, even if said company is cold comfort.

At least on the Nemesis I didn't have to worry about anyone killing me, being the only medic on the ship and all. However, if there was someone else, like there is now...

Knockout shook his helm, knowing that kind of thinking wouldn't lead to anything good, but he couldn't help admitting that he, in a way, missed the Decepticons. Sure, most of the time they were terrible, but they had their moments, and Knockout was at the very least needed by the Decepticons. He wasn't needed by the Autobots, and it has become undeniably clear that the majority don't want him, either. He wants to help, but he doesn't know how or why, and it's not like he can talk about it with anyone...