maskormenacelogs | [closed] Of everything we've been through...

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[closed] Of everything we've been through...

WHO: Knock Out & Jane Foster
WHERE: Heropa Park
WHEN: A few days after the incident at March's Swear-In
WHAT: Knock Out had two memories pulled from his mind, and Jane was (un)lucky enough to have seen both of them.
WARNINGS: Mentions of torture, medical experimentation, death. Sad feels!

After the events of the AtlanTech Expo 2020, Knock Out had been quick to retreat from the expo grounds, as if putting physical distance between the site and himself would help abate the barrage of foreign memories. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. Nor did it make much of a difference, when it turned out that a lot of them were ending up on the network as video posts for everyone to see. Some of them he watched, and some he didn't. Rarely did he comment on them, either way. There would be enough people doing that already, and he could - occasionally - show restraint.

Knock Out's stolen recollections, thankfully, had yet to make any appearance for the general public. He might not be a religious mech, but he'd have admitted to slipping Primus a quick, fervent prayer that it stayed that way.

Then Jane had gotten in contact with him for another meetup, and perhaps that was the distraction he'd needed. It would be easy to focus on recounting whatever societal minutiae had captured her attention this week, and he looked forward to her always-discerning questions.

The trip from Jeopardy to Heropa was quick and uneventful. Driving to the now-familiar park they'd unofficially designated as their regular meeting spot, Knock Out pulled up to the grassy lawn, unfolding from vehicle mode with a welcome stretch.

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Jane had seen a lot of things in the last few days. So many memories had gone through her head, none of them her own. Some of them came immediately. Others, like these, had not.

After seeing Kang’s memory, she avoided the network just to be safe.

She was already at the park, at the familiar bench. The sunshine felt good on her skin as she tried to detach herself from what she saw and felt. It was odd, feeling like she was in another being’s body, even if it were just for a few moments. Even now, she occasionally flexed her hands just to make sure she was feeling bone and tendons instead of hydraulics and metal. The first memory was personal, intimate. The second one … Her heart went out to Knock Out.

She had cried afterwards, feeling such horrid pain. Even though she had been on the other end of torture before, she understood why Knock Out did what he did. She didn’t blame him. To have a loved one go through that, to know what someone else had done, was doing to them … To be so helpless and have such rage towards one person that it leaked into everything else … She could see why he hated humans at times. It was nothing like what other mechs had done to him. This was beyond the pale. This was personal.

She hoped Silas suffered and would continue to suffer, because how dare he.

She took in a deep breath and reminded herself that she was not there anymore. It still hurt, as it must for Knock Out, but it would be okay. Honesty was always the better route. What she knew was important and he deserved to know. Even if he was angry, she knew that after some time, they could work through this. That’s what friends did.

“Hey, thanks for meeting with me again,” she said, giving him a smile, though he will be able to tell from her voice and the rest of her posture that something is up.

Edited 2020-03-18 19:23 (UTC)

"You're welcome," he answered automatically, stepping across the grass toward the bench. But although Jane had given him a smile, the rest of her body language was wrong. Always before when they'd met up, she had exuded excitement and earnestness, ready to learn, ready to explore whatever knowledge he was offering.

Today she seemed... muted, somehow. Not for the first time, he wished that humans had some form of EM field the way mechs did, in order to get a better sense of them.

"What is it?" he asked, although he has a sinking feeling that he already knows.

Jane knew he would figure it out in a few seconds. She wasn’t really doing anything to hide it, but she wished—she had no control over it, but still—

“I saw some of your memories,” she confessed. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but I thought you should know. I was at the Tech Expo, so that is probably when I downloaded them, though they didn’t come forward until later. Some kind of delay, I suppose.”

That followed; he'd continued to receive memory intrusions from other people long after he'd left the expo site itself.

"I suppose that would depend on what you saw," he replied neutrally. It could have been any number of things, given how long he'd been alive. And the options ran the gamut from innocuous, to macabre, to potentially damning.

She nodded, swallowing thickly. Her eyes still felt swollen and raw.

"I ... know about Breakdown. And Silas."

Damning, then, seems to be the order of the day.

The change in Knock Out is immediate and pronounced: his body language becomes focused, reserved, anticipatory. His expression smoothes, leaving his faceplates as inscrutable as glass, betraying nothing. For all that Jane knows that he's been in a war for millions of years, this is the first time he's ever acted like he's got the side effects of one. This is a soldier faced with an enemy, expecting the worst and calculating the odds.

He stares down at Jane, red optics focused into tight lenses, and only when it seems that she isn't volunteering anything else yet does he speak again.

"I see." The words are measured and level. "And what do you intend to do with the information?"

Edited 2020-03-18 21:11 (UTC)

Jane has seen such a posture before: when a commanding officer came into the room, when her father had to go on active duty once more, even though he had retired. It was not some mask, someone trying to hide their feelings. It was a clear display that even if she threw the worst thing possible at him, he would throw something just as terrible back.

This is the Knock Out who survived millions of years of war and loss and battles.

This was the Knock Out that could survive eons more if he had to.

Because he had before.

“Nothing,” she said immediately. “I shouldn’t have even seen them. If not for what happened at the Tech Expo, no one would have access to each other’s memories like this. Even though it was completely unintentional—I didn’t even open a file—it was still an invasion of your privacy. I just didn’t want there to be a lie between us, even if it was by omission.”

"That's what you're focusing on?" He doesn't even bother to hide the note of incredulity. "You get a glimpse of what I did to that parasite and your concern is in regards to my privacy?"

“Well—yes!” She flushed a bit, embarrassed and mortified at the same time. “I saw not only that, but another memory where you and Breakdown had visited some acid wastes. I now know how much he meant to you and that was personal.”

He didn’t talk about Breakdown for a reason. She took in a deep breath then, trying to compose herself as tears started to well up in her eyes one more.

“And even if I kind of understand why you did what you did, I can’t imagine you would really want to broadcast those actions or tell everyone you meet.”

"No, I wouldn't. Not everyone would be so cavalier about learning something like that. Don't mistake--" He adds, sharp and pitiless. "It's not regret. I'd do it again a hundred times over, and the only thing I'd change is if I figured out how to make Silas suffer more for what he did. But most humans would balk at seeing one of their own kind treated such."

And the unspoken question left hanging there: so why aren't you?

But then the facade cracks, just a little. Walls that had sprung into existence at this new discovery, pulled high and tight and defensive while he expected extortion or worse from her, now begin to fracture as grief seeps through. He has a reasonably good idea of what Jane saw, mentioning the Acid Wastes.

Knock Out quashes the instinctive urge to drop back into his alt mode for the concealment it provides, and instead... slowly takes his usual seat next to the bench. But he doesn't say anything, just folds his arms on top of raised knees, looking uncharacteristically small for someone who exceeds 20'.

Jane nodded along with his explanation.

It was odd of her, wasn’t it?

As he sat down, her own emotions crumbled along with him. It wasn’t right to see him like this. He was … She was used to seeing him strong and resolute, stable and sure of himself. But even someone as resilient and strong as him could only take so much devastation.

She reached out, placing a hand on one of his plates, like she would touch someone’s arm or shoulder in comfort.

“In the memories, I was in your place. I saw and felt what you did. Your thoughts were running through my head and my hands were yours. Before I came here, before I met Thor, I might have balked at him being tortured. I will probably balk in the future, depending upon circumstances.”

She took in a shaky breath.

“I still get nightmares about my own session,” she confessed, “but what he did to Breakdown was just as bad. Besides, you have a completely different set of morals, codes, and idea of justice. Who am I to judge you for something you’ve already done?”

Edited 2020-03-18 23:44 (UTC)

Knock Out glances over at her when she touches his plating, surprised by the gesture. Though he is on good terms with many imPorts, his scale doesn't lend itself well to casual displays of comfort. He can probably count on both hands the number of times someone else has touched him since he came to this world.

There's little to say in either defense or justification, if she was privvy to not just his actions during Silas' imprisonment, but his thoughts as well. She would know just how grotesque the M.E.C.H. operative's actions were, that even Megatron - who had casually reanimated Cybertronian dead in an attempt to build an unliving army - had called Silas an 'abomination'. She would understand Knock Out's horror and rage at seeing his partner's body debased like that.

And maybe that was why she was not offering condemnation for what she saw, but understanding. Commiseration, even. He might not go so far to say approval, but it was far more than he would have expected from any human, even on he was on good terms with.

I still get nightmares about my own session. Doubly surprising then, if she had that in her history.

"You are a never-ending surprise, Doctor Foster," he says.

Edited 2020-03-19 03:08 (UTC)

Processing his thoughts and memories from those times were an undertaking—she was still processing some of it. Even though she is going through all of that, he was the one who lived through those experiences. He was the one still carrying them.

The least she could do was give comfort and understanding.

His justifications or defenses, at this point, weren’t needed. What Silas had done was horrific. To be honest? Torture was the least that Silas deserved. He deserved to have his world torn down around him and ripped away, from the people who followed him to the ambitions he tried to accomplish. At least Megatron only experimented with essentially empty corpses.

“I hope that continues to be a good thing,” she replied. “Could you … tell me about Breakdown?”

It made sense, with the emotional weight behind those memories, why the technology glitch had targeted them. It still hadn't made them any easier to relive - or in Jane's case, experience for the first time. It would take a while for those echoes to settle back down.

And that's why it takes him a moment's hesitation in the face of her question for him to decide... and his decision is unexpected to him.

"What do you want to know?"

If someone was behind that, she was not sure what they hoped to accomplish. Was the emotional turmoil and chaos enough? Did they want secrets to be revealed? Or were they trying to create opportunities for people to be honest and share? Really, it seemed like a hit or miss.

It would take some time to settle again, but eventually, they would.

“Whatever you’d like to tell me,” she replied. “I know he was special to you for a lot of reasons, but I’d like to hear that from you, not because of some unwanted memory exchange.”

Knock Out ex-vents slowly, gathering his thoughts. Honestly, a direct question would have been easier to answer. He and Breakdown had been together for so long, like binary stars orbiting one another, that he was at a loss to explain. Breakdown was just... there, solid and steady and reliable.

But he would try to explain it. Begin at the beginning, then.

"Well... we were both Velocitronian, as you saw. We were sparked around the same time, but he was designated into the labour caste. He started out as a miner, but eventually he saved enough to buy a job change permit, and went into construction. We were... five, six megavorns old before we met for the first time. Half a million years or so. I'd already established myself in the racing circuit, and used the profits to open my own clinic. Cosmetic and empirical refinements. Aerodynamic sculpting, weight reduction, alt mode augmentation. Anything to give mechs that extra edge on the track."

Given that their previous conversations had touched upon the absolute centrality of speed and racing as the sole Velocitronian societal value, Jane could draw her own conclusions as to how well the clinic probably did. Namely: very.

"Breakdown made an appointment at the clinic. He was looking for a frame overhaul, and had heard I was the best."

Jane smiles softly as she listens. This is how she would prefer to learn about anyone’s past, anyone’s secrets: because they chose to, because they trusted her. The memories might have given her an inside look, but this? Seeing him speak and hear how his tone changes as he remembers? Hearing the details as he saw and experienced them? This experience is so much more worthwhile.

“Well, given what I have seen of your work, I—”

She cut herself off.

“You—you were married. Oh my god, that was your honeymoon!”

She didn’t see anything, but now that she knew the fully context!

“I thought it was a date!”

Knock Out can't help it; despite the gravity of the situation, of the heavy emotions it was currently giving rise to, watching the realization hit Jane actually startled an astonished laugh out of him. And then, listening to her interpret the memory she'd seen in a whole other light kept him laughing bordering on wheezes, which was impressive for a species that didn't breathe. His spark still ached for having this topic thrust back into the light the way it had been, but just for a fleeting second, he thought perhaps it hurt a little less.

"Yes," he confirms both her deductions in one fell swoop when he finally gets the his unexpected - but not unwelcome - levity back under control. "Yes, a Conjunx is the equivalent of a spouse. You thought it was--?"

A pause and he gives a sound suspiciously like an amused cough. "Well. That answers my question of how much of that memory you saw..."

Jane is absolutely mortified, but eventually, laughs along with him. Really, she should have known. She didn’t know everything about his culture, but it was obvious! God, she could be really dense at times, couldn’t she?

“Yeah, I really didn’t see a lot of it,” she explained. “Sorry, I should have been clearer. You two were just watching the sunset and talking about what you were going to do about rent and things. Remind me to punch those jerks for making you intern for so long.”

"It's fine," Knock Out replies, quieting to something closer to pained but fond remembrance.

"We were quite the unlikely pair on Velocitron. It was funny how many people thought I should have done much better for myself, when in reality I was the fortunate one. It was because of Breakdown that I really... started to understand Velocitron, its good parts and its bad. That was why moving to Cybertron was the only real choice. Breakdown would have never been happy on Velocitron, not really."

Jane's offer to punch the Hall's deans elicited a faint chuckle. "I never did end up getting licensed on Cybertron. I found out there was work to be had if you were willing to stay off-book. People who'd pay for discretion, and who didn't ask for credentials. It never bothered either of us, that kind of thing. We had always had the same kind of outlook on what was practical versus what was idealized, it was one of the reasons we worked so well together."

Knock Out shakes his head a little, the half-smile falling away, and his pauldrons hunch forward slightly. "He deserved better at every turn, you know. Not to be scorned on Velocitron, or undervalued on Cybertron because of his caste. It made Megatron very easy to follow when the war started. But I--"

He stops, resets his vocalizer, and glances away. "I wonder if he would have changed his mind, if he knew that I'd end up letting him down when it mattered. That I would be part of the reason he was killed, because I had made the wrong calls."

“I’m glad you two met, that you had each other. Finding someone you click with like that is special.”

She thought she had such a connection with a few people before, but those relationships paled in comparison to the fondness and understanding that he and Breakdown had for each other. She imagines that moving to Cybertron was only one of the sacrifices they made for each other, for each other’s happiness.

“No,” she whispered. “No, he wouldn’t have. He knows you wouldn’t have done anything intentionally that would hurt or endangered him.”

And she knew that he tried. He tried so hard to find him, kept hoping he was alright, that they would someday be reunited.

As kindly meant as Jane's remark is, Knock Out's spark still twists in pain, though he covers it with more bite in his tone than she deserves, turning narrowed optics down at her.

"Intention means slag all at the end of the day, doesn't it? He trusted me to see what was coming and keep us in the clear. I should have made the decision to cut our losses with the Decepticons and leave. I should have found that damned M.E.C.H. tracker on him! He'd be alive and he'd never have been... turned into that thing--"

Knock Out breaks off, a hiss of pain reverberating through his vents. His digits come up to hook in the seams of his chassis, hunching forward.

Tears start pouring down Jane’s face, as much as she tries to hold them back.

That was the part of the memory that had her crying for hours afterwards, before she messaged him again, because he was right. Intention meant nothing. There were always going to be what-ifs and guilt and the never-ending regret associated with his decisions. She felt the love he had for Breakdown, the pain of finding out what he had been turned into.

Not even torturing Silas for as long as he was soothed the pain.

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she said through hiccups and sobs. She wished that Silas was alive so she could make him suffer even longer for the pain he caused others.

Knock Out's attention is now split between the painful, arrhythmic pulsation of his spark and Jane who had burst into tears. Neither of which he was equipped to handle at the given moment. He had just been brusque with her, yes, but surely not enough to cry!

"Jane, stop," he appeals lamely, though he sounds a little breathless. "I apologize. That was uncalled for. You're not the one I'm angry with."

Under his rigid grip, his claws are denting thin striations in his chestplate, peeling off curls of wax and topcoat.

She shook her head, tried to wipe her eyes and calm down, but it was proving to be difficult. God, they were a mess. The sound of metal on metal, of the scrape and peeling was like a very unwanted jolt.

“No, no, it’s not you—I know you’re not angry with me. Oh, Knock Out, you got to—your chestplate—”

"It's fine," he gritted out. Although obviously in pain, he didn't seem alarmed or afraid of what was happening. "Irregular spark activity is symptomatic of severed bonds. It won't last long."

Indeed, it seemed to lessen after just a few minutes, although they seemed much longer than they were in reality. But finally he was able to uncurl from his slouched posture, letting his hand fall away. Besides the damage to his paint, smudges of shining blue energon were left behind. He vented deep, pushing away that last of the tightness and clearing the errors flashing on his HUD.

He looked down at the blemishes on his chassis and made a displeased sound. "Scrap. Well, I have touch up paint at home."

Edited 2020-03-19 23:39 (UTC)

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, because that did not seem fine.

It was the least she could do, after bringing up all of these memories for him, whether they were good or bad, along with the physical pain he seemed to be in. Even if it was something as simple as getting some supplies, she would do it.

"It's not a serious injury," he assures quietly. Flicking away a few beads of energon before they could seep across his plating, he reached into his subspace and rummaged around for a clean cloth, using it to dab the area clear.

(At least she has stopped crying.)

"It's fine," he repeats. "That was... a comparatively mild one. Nothing to worry about."

Sorry, but Jane is highly doubting him right now.

"You're leaking energon."

(But yes, she had stopped crying.)

"Leaking is overstating it," he refuted airily, recovering at least a shadow of his usual temperament. "A slow drip, maybe. My self repair will take care of it in no time."

"It had better," she muttered. "Or I am engineering a better way to help you with that or something. Just watch me."

She did not ask him to come here so he could be physically hurt. She knew there might be some emotions (and that was an understatement), but nothing like this!

"There's nothing that can be done about it," Knock Out said quietly. "Its triggers may be psychosomatic, but it's still physical damage to the spark. It may yet settle... it does, in some mechs. For others..."

What he didn't clarify was that mechs tended to heal from such when their sparkbonds were still young, or if one person had died in somewhat gentler fashion, from age or sickness. Neither of which applied in his and Breakdown's case.

"It's only been two years. Less, if you take this Porter world's year out of the equation. For us, that's..."

Well, Jane can put two and two together.

“Barely even a second.”

No wonder it was still reacting like that—the small amount of time, the manner in which Breakdown died, what happened after … It was a miracle that he wasn’t in a worse state. Jane had suffered loss and pain herself before, but not the one of a spouse, someone you had changed your entire life with, and had fought along beside.

“Thank you, for sharing all this with me,” she said after a moment of silence. “And sorry for getting all emotional back there.”

Knock Out has partitioned a lot of his grief, refusing to let it show, to let it process. It's not all stoicism; the Nemesis is not a safe place for mourning. He's done what he's had to in order to keep himself as intact as he can manage. But it's not a great strategy, and it will continue to make things ultimately harder for him.

"For what it's worth, I wish you hadn't experienced what I did. I'm not sorry for doing it, but I wouldn't have expected you to... accept that. Even knowing what Silas had done."

But what he did make sense—there was no room for anything that could be perceived as a ‘weakness’ during that time. Not only because of the war going on and the environment of the ship he worked in, but because of the instability of their leadership and uncertainty of their future. He had to keep looking ahead and moving on. As much as it hurt to do so.

As much as he was not allowed to.

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t pleasant to experience, even if I was in your place … but I’ve done some not-so-great things as well that others would probably judge me for. It would be hypocritical for me to judge you for similar actions.”

Somehow, Knock Out highly doubted Jane had done anything akin to torturing someone, but she did seem to be full of surprises.

"I haven't got anything to repay that level of concession... except perhaps to offer not to judge whatever you've done in return."

No, she hasn’t—and a lot of what she is talking about is misplaced blame and guilt. There were larger forces at work, events she could not have predicted or prevented. Everything else, she just regretted, because it was a poorly made heat-of-the-moment decision.

Either way, forgiveness and kindness shouldn’t have any limits or conditions.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

She pauses, for a moment.

“You know, you’re a really good friend.”

Knock Out barely restrains a laugh at her statement. A good friend? That was like saying Starscream was a guileless leader. Knock Out might be a good ally - or at least, he was until put into a spot where he'd choose saving his own plating over loyalty - but that hardly meant he had desirable qualities for friendship.

"Let's not exaggerate," he answers, amused. "But the sentiment's appreciated."

Oh, hush. It was her opinion and she was entitled to them. He was hardly perfect, but all Jane really considered important in friendship was intelligence and understanding. But she gets it.

“Alright, I suppose I can refrain from singing your praises.”

That draws a wan smile from the medic. His spark's settled now, but between that and the entirety of the conversation that preceded it, he's suddenly exhausted.

"I think he would have liked it here," Knock Out mused after a moment. Of course, Breakdown had been an imPort in the past, from the scant traces he'd been able to find on years-old network entries... as had Knock Out himself, though he had no recollection of it.

"Being an imPort. He never cared much for being the center of attention - it bothered him - but I think he might have appreciated being able to interact with this world without having to hide."

Edited 2020-04-05 17:06 (UTC)

Jane is feeling exhausted too. She cannot imagine how everyone else is doing with all of their memories and what has been unearthed again.

"I think he would have to. That's one thing this world has going for it. Not having to hide so much."

Jane's confirmation of the opinion somehow makes it better and worse simultaneously. Knock Out stares out across the grassy park, not seeing it at all. He would shake himself out of it soon enough, but in the lull following such an emotional upheaval, he's still mired in grief and guilt over what happened.

Jane fell silent as well, knowing that he needed the silence and time to recollect himself far more than she did. She only got a glimpse of what he had and had lost. There were eons for him to mourn.

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[closed] Of everything we've been through...

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