Yet another one-shot drabble LOL. Warning: Contains major spoilers from the episode Crossfire. Dreadwing had never associated med-bays with a cheerful or optimistic attitude, and today was no exception. The atmosphere of the room was dull and dreary, laden with regret. The latter part came from the Seeker himself, but overall, most of the darkened feelings came from the medic. Knock-Out maintained a brave face, and Dreadwing understood the need to stay strong in face of emotional oppression. But still, it was a sad thing to witness mourning, especially so soon after his own loss. The car had done a scan of the jet, and there had been no major injuries nor conditions; simple a few little scrapes from when he had been stuck to a particuarly bulky organism that the local organics called a tree. The true damages here were purely psychological. He'd been checked over and given the all-clear already, but Dreadwing felt compelled to say something, anything, before he left. So, bracing himself just in case it was a vengeful rage that boiled under the medic's calm facade, he spoke: "Knock-Out, I know how you are feeling right now." "Do you?" He replied, with a dreary tone that sounded like it had heard everything that could possibly be said in this context. "Come now, Dreadwing, surely you have more tact than that." "It is a truth, regardless." The jet said, keeping a close eye on the reactions of his fellow Decepticon; overall, nothing but boredom. "I too know loss. Across galaxies, I sped to this world, desperately hoping that, by some sliver of fate, that I was wrong." "And I'm sorry you were dissapointed upon arrival." Knock-Out snorted, turning his back to the Seeker as he polished a somewhat dirty area of his Energon Prod. "But I assure you that I am fine. Somewhat disappointed, but fine." "While that talk may work on someone else, it will not affect me, medic." Dreadwing replied, standing up from the berth and tapping Knock-Out on the shoulder as a hint for him to face him. "It is better to discuss this now, then allow it to build up." "Yes, you are absolutely right!" Knock-Out jeered, a look of deeper rage flashing across his face. "If I want a therapist, I'll go see Soundwave." "Not a therapist, but someone who can sympathise." The car snorted again: "I don't need sympathy. Yes, Breakdown is dead. It's war. Slag happens." Dreadwing shook his head: "No. That is not what you think. You think that it is dishonourable in a way, to understand that the war did not claim him. You think it is unfair that a former comrade of ours did this-" "Don't talk to me about that wretch." Knock-Out snapped. "She can go rust with Starscream or whatever." The larger Decepticon continued: "And you try to hide it under your usual snark, bravado, whatever you wish to call it. I do not buy it, Knock-Out." The medic huffed, gripping his weapon, and Dreadwing birefly wondered if Knock-Out would electrocute him simply to shut him up. Finally, he replied: "You know, Dreadwing.... I think you might have a point. I think it's unfair, who wouldn't, that Airachnid terminated Breakdown with her pragmatic traps and her overgrown lackies. It's not a blaze of glory, it's a worthless execution." "Indeed." Dreadwing said. "Skyquake was terminated by the Autobot scout ripping apart his systems. It is not the death I would wish on my brother." "No death is what we would wish for, in the end." Knock-Out huffed. "But the real problem is not how he died, it's just....." He hesitated for a moment, trying to find some way to voice his thoughts. Dreadwing remained silent. Finally, the car found what he needed to say: "It's just that I'm going to miss him, is all. You think about it, from this day on, I'll never see him scrounging around the toolbox again. We won't have our weekly drives anymore. No more..... anything." Knock-Out huffed again: "It's just unnerving, knowing that I'm down one friend, that I'll honestly never interact with him again." "I know." Dreadwing muttered. "When Skyquake left to guard this planet's stockpiles, I had wished him the best. He told me that he appreciated it, but it was pointless to wish him luck, when myself and our Lord Megatron needed it more. I laughed, agreed with him. I do not regret our parting, ony that I was unable to meet him again, so many years after he left." "Yeah....." Knock-Out sighed. "Life's a fragger sometimes, isn't it?" "I would never deny it." "Nor me. Guess we're both down a notch, aren't we?" Dreadwing shrugged: "We mourn, and we march on. The Autobots, and Airachnid, will pay for their crimes. Soon, and painfully." "And that's another thing I was musing on." Knock-Out said, and now, his saddened expression took on a more contemplative look: "We grieve for our brothers, but so do the Autobots. I recall the two-wheeler mourns the loss of her own partners. They know loss like we do. You can see my point; it's a tad unnerving when both sides feel the same effects of what this war takes from us." Dreadwing considered that. He'd never really thought of it that way. But the medic was right; regardless of faction or motivation, was there any true difference in what both sides felt as they lost more and more of their numbers? When they lost Cybertron? "That is a thought I would rather not concern myself with." Dreadwing sighed. "Ultimately, we are enemies. No matter our similarities, it is our differences that will ensure that only one side can come out of this conflict alive." "Right now, the Autobots aren't my enemies." Knock-Out grunted. "Airachnid is." "Yes. I regret that I was unable to help Breakdown. But I assure you, I will do everything in my power to make sure he will be avenged." "Hard to avenge a guy who ran off right into a trap." Knock-Out snorted, coldly noting the irony of Breakdown's passing. Nevertheless, he sighed and said: "Well, whatever. Thanks, Dreadwing. You did a good talk, I guess." "For our brothers, we unite." The Seeker replied, crossing an arm over his chest in a polite bow. "Never mourn the past, Knock-Out. Strive for the future." "Same to you, wings." He replied, a trace of genuine thankfulness in his tone, before it vanished under a veil of arrogance. "Now frag off, it's time for my wax."