Street Racer Darling |:| Knockout X reader

A Talk

~(Y/N)'s POV~ 

     I woke up the next morning to find myself on Knockout's chassis. He was still recharging, so I carefully made my way to the shelf that was my room. I found the small mirror I had acquired at some point, and looked at my visage, seeing a puffy eyed, pale, tired being. I put the mirror down, finding a brush to take it's place in my hand. As I brushed the (H/L), (H/C) hair my mom used to always think as some sort of trophy, I stared at the wall, trying to block the  memories that still wanted to flood back into my mind. I only let one through though, and that was Knockout and I sitting in the sand, his hand rubbing my back as I cried, him crying as well, though I was the one having a breakdown, and a bout of PTSD. I hadn't had a flashback in quite some time... I guess these things never really leave you... 

     I can't help but wonder what Knockout thinks of me. While he might have comforted me in that moment of weakness, what would he do now that I'm no longer controlled by that rage and self hate? One thing I understand, is that it would be rather hypocritical if he called me a monster for what I did. His line of work isn't exactly free of spilled energon on his own servos. Though I doubt he's murdered anyone he's ever been close to... I don't think he could do it. It just doesn't sound like him... 

     Placing the brush back on the small table, by the mirror, I went to find something to wear besides my sand filled attire I had on at that moment. Finding a dark red T-shirt, I set it to the side, and found a nice pair of black jeans. I didn't care to put my shoes back on, I didn't plan on going anywhere, and slid into my chosen items with ease. Deciding to make the slightly baggy T-shirt a bit stylish, I took a hair tie and made a small knot at the side, making the shirt come up just over my belly button. I didn't look half bad really... Though I think it needed something... 

         "How about a hair pin?" 

I jumped at my devil car's voice, smiling a tired smile as I sat at the edge of my shelf. He was still laying on his berth, an optic open, while the other was still lazily shut. 

         "If I find the right one, yes, but currently I don't know where any are." 

Putting a hand to my head, I tried to fight off a headache that proved only to be that of an impending doom to my temples. 

         "Do you want me to do a check up?" 

         "No... I-I'm probably just dehydrated. Crying takes a lot out of you ya know?" My poor attempt to make a joke out of last night failed as Knockout, both optics now open, looked at me with the sadness brought only by remembrance. 

         "It's nothing to joke about." He stated. 

         "Yeah I know, health stuff and all that." 

         "No, not all that. (Y/N) the horrors of your past eat at you. Why do you keep them locked up inside?" 

         "You're not going to let it go are you?" 

         "I thought that to be obvious by now." He gave his signature smirk as I rolled my eyes, sitting at the edge of my shelf. 

         "Look, I'm trying to forget my past. There's nothing there for me but regret and heartache." 

         "And yet you proceed to continue with the very thing that connects with your past?" 

At this I stayed silent. I race to forget them, and to remember them. The adrenaline rush clouds my mind of anything from my past, and the sense of success makes me feel like I'm not failing them. Roman... Roman always took me to check out the best of cars, even if we didn't have the money. Buster was like a father figure when my own father wasn't there, and though we weren't the most legal of families, we knew the basics of right and wrong at least. 

     I heard Knockout sigh as he sat up. 

         "I'm sorry you went through so much, I really am, but shouldn't you confide in someone all these emotions?" 

         "Probably... but I have a problem when it comes to trust. Thought that was apparent when we met Victoria, A.K.A. Lucky." 

         "So you can't even trust me?" 

The hurt in his voice made me want to cry again. That wasn't what I meant, not at all. 

         "Of course I-I trust you... it's just... I can't... I'm not-" 

         "Worth the trouble?" He finished for me, to which I nodded. I didn't think I was. After all, I'm just a fleshy with more weaknesses than the common villain in some super hero franchise. 

         "(Y/N) I wish  you would see how much you are worth the trouble." Knockout stressed on the subject, "And it's not even troublesome to listen to the troubles that trouble you!" 

I laughed at his sentence, making him smile triumphantly as he made me feel a bit better. 

         "Darling," He became serious once again, "Talk to me. Talk to Breakdown even, but you can't keep all of your past hidden and lock inside where it can fester and rust." 

     Sighing, I nodded, wiping my eyes of their salty secretion. I guess it was time to let things go... though sweet revenge did sound nice. Revenge on Tyson, revenge on his little Harlot. I wish I could say revenge on my mother and father, but how can I when, somehow, I can still bring myself to love them, even after the beatings and abandonment.  Sighing once more, I got up from my spot at the edge, standing as I wiped my eyes again. 

         "I'll talk more when I'm less of a mess." I chuckled slightly. 

         "You're always a mess." 

         "Oh shut up ya cherry." 

     Our day went by as usual, though I was questioned by Breakdown about my red eyes and constantly tired state of being. I just told him that I had a rough race the other night... of which was a tie between me, and a racer named the Reaper. It was rather fitting really. I just hoped the true Death wouldn't pass me by any time soon.