TFP - Dinner Date

WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT THAT SOME MAY FIND UPSETTING/DISTURBING.

*****

 Breakdown groaned quietly as his optic slowly opened, colours bleeding through the darkness. His helm hurt and he couldn’t piece together what happened before he fell into recharge… or was he drugged? He couldn’t remember.

 He slowly tried to raise his helm, only for it to fall back down. He tried to ask out loud what had happened, but the only thing that came from his lips were garbled slurs.

 “You’re up!”

 The blue van made a tiny ‘hnn?’ noise as he heard that voice. It was familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger as to why. He tried to raise his head one more time, succeeding and his golden optic met black and red.

 “…K-Knock… Out…?”

 His vision gradually sharpened, the familiar red paintjob of the Decepticon medic forming into the vain mech. Breakdown realised that he was sitting at a table, Knock Out sitting opposite him with his helm in his hand. A lazy smile graced his face, his optic half-lidded. “Glad you’re here, Breakdown.” He responded. “I was thinking for a moment that I’d put a little too much sedative into your energon. But, I obviously haven’t.”

 “W…Wh…Where…?” Breakdown tried to talk again. His mind was still foggy and he couldn’t fully piece together what was going on.

 “You mean, you don’t remember? That really hurts, you know!” Knock Out stood up and walked to the side of the room. “We talked about this, remember?” Breakdown followed the other’s movements and noticed that there was a long rectangular table, four bumps covered with a dark blood red cloth.

 “…We did?”

 The Medic chuckled, shaking his helm. “Oh you. I guess I should remind you then.” He turned his optics back to the armoured van, an almost unnerving smile on his face. “We’re having that date! Remember now?”

 Breakdown blinked. A date? What in the Pit was he talking about!? Before he could ask any further, the Aston Martin pulled the cloth off and revealed four covered dishes. How strange… “We had a talk a few cycles ago and I said that we needed to talk more… and you said ‘sounds good to me’. So here we are and I made you dinner! Now wasn’t that nice of me?”

 The larger tried to move, only for his arms and legs to barely budge. He looked down and realised why; his wrists, ankles, forearms and legs were strapped to the chair he was in. He tried to thrash around in his binds in the hopes of breaking free, but to no avail.

 “Settle down! I could just crush your pedes and servos and slash your joints if you’d prefer.” Knock Out snapped. He quickly calmed down and grabbed the first dish. “Oh, I’m sorry honey, I shouldn’t have said that. Now how about we settle down and start eating? I made it myself and I hope you enjoy it~!”

 The red medic walked back over to the table and placed the dish in front of Breakdown. “Firstly, we’ll start with an aperitif and hors d’oeuvres.” With a flourish, the Aston Martin pulled off the lid and revealed what was underneath.

 A slim glass filled almost to the brim with a lurid purple liquid that was faintly glowing. Set next to it was a small dish with six tiny round objects. Breakdown couldn’t tell what they were, but when he saw the colours, his tanks churned with dread.

 Optics.

 Knock Out only smiled. “So we begin the meal with what I call a ‘Bloody Megatron’, taken straight from our Lord and Master’s veins and on the side we have optics from him, Starscream and Soundwave. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was getting them!” He placed the lid on the table and held up an optic – Starscream’s – and rolled it between his fingers. “Now then, as it’s said on Earth, Bon Appetit!”

 With no further preamble, the smaller mech popped the optic in his mouth and chewed. He made a few contemplative hums before letting out a quiet ‘Mmmm…’ in delight. He swallowed. “That was great… You should try.” He picked up another optic from the dish – this time belonging to Megatron – and held it to Breakdown’s lips. “Open up. You’ll love it!”

 The ex-Stunticon looked away, clenching his denta together. This couldn’t be happening, it just COULDN’T! However, Knock Out was persistent and tried to force the optic into Breakdown’s mouth.

 The van kept on resisting and the medic tried a more hands-on approach. He grabbed the other’s red face and pried his mouth open, shoving the tiny ball into his mouth. “Now chew thoroughly…” he crooned, his hand clamped over Breakdown’s mouth, leaving the larger unable to spit out the optic.

 Seeing no other option, Breakdown reluctantly began chewing.

 It was disgusting! The tiny components cracked underneath his denta and a small bit of optic fluid ran across his tongue. Eventually, after what felt more like a lifetime than a few kliks, Breakdown finally swallowed, shivering as the vile mess slid down his throat.

 Knock Out pulled his hand away and smiled, picking up the glass of Megatron’s blood. “Now how about a drink to wash that down with?” He held the glass up to Breakdown’s lips and nudged the rim of the glass against them. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. It will certainly help prepare you for the next few courses!”

 The medic wrenched open the van’s mouth again, pouring the vile fluid into his mouth, ignoring the disgusted whines. It tasted so bitter against his tongue, leaving behind a foul aftertaste as it flowed down his throat and a few drops trickled down his chin. The glass was pulled away, leaving behind only a few droplets of the substance, which Knock Out swiftly downed. “There. Now we can move onto the starter.”

 The now empty glass was placed back onto the dish and Knock Out carried it off to the side, instead picking up the second covered dish and placed it in front of Breakdown. “Oops, nearly forgot the utensils! Silly me…” Knock Out purred, pulling a knife and fork out of his subspace. Breakdown also found this strange; they normally only had Energon as food and if they had anything else, it was normally eaten using their fingers.

 Before he could ask about it, the lid for the dish was pulled off and Breakdown fought to urge to throw up what was now settled in his tanks. The dish had dark grey and purple fingers scattered around, along with small fragments of violet and silver metal and a grey tongue. It was all topped off with a thin blue liquid and iron filings.

 “Now for the starter, we have a servos and tongue salad, with a Vehicon vinaigrette and iron filings. You know, the fingers came from both Starscream and some hapless Vehicon designated ST-3V3, who also donated some of the Energon from his body to make the vinaigrette… but the tongue is fresh from Starscream’s lying little mouth with some seasoning of course.” Knock Out pierced the tongue with the fork, bringing it up to Breakdown’s mouth. “Oh well, at least we won’t be able to have him whining anymore.

 “K-Knock O--!”

 Breakdown couldn’t continue as the tongue was shoved into his mouth, cutting off his words. The ex-Stunticon desperately wanted to spit out the offending object, but Knock Out had placed his other hand behind Breakdown’s helm, keeping him still. “C’mon Break… I made the entire meal just for you… I just want you to try my food… do you not like it?” the medic’s tone had shifted; even though he sounded morose and insulted, there was still an edge that promised pain if the wrong thing was said. “DAMMIT BREAKDOWN, TRY IT!”

 The van’s lone optic widened at the sudden outburst, watching as the smaller mech’s mouth twisted into a snarl. He was stuck; either eat the Second-in-Command’s tongue or risk getting tortured by Knock Out… his closest friend for many vorns…

 He started chewing, the fork leaving his mouth and letting the tongue remain. Breakdown chewed, feeling the appendage being torn apart by his denta, infuriating his gag reflex. The texture was slimy and there was a tang of acidic Energon, no doubt from that ‘vinaigrette’ that the medic mentioned. It was warm, but still had an underlying coldness to it. He could also taste a variety of spices that could only take his mind off of the fact he was eating Starscream’s tongue for so long.

 Primus… what had he done to deserve this!?

 Breakdown swallowed, shuddering in disgust. His optic looked upwards at Knock Out, who had the Primus-forsaken smile again. The Aston Martin stabbed a few of the fingers and a fragment of silver metal, holding it up. “You know, the metal I got from the Vehicon’s chassis and Starscream’s wings. I tried some beforehand and it’s just divine with the vinaigrette and filings… I’m sure you’ll agree with me.”

 Seeing no way out of this, the larger Decepticon shakily opened his mouth, allowing his partner to shove the forkful in. He quickly chewed, trying to ignore the taste and the feel of crunching metal and energon trickling down his chin. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” the medic cooed, spearing another forkful for himself, chuckling and purring in delight as he ate. “How about we move to the main course?

 ‘Why?’ Breakdown wanted to scream. ‘Why are you doing this? What have I done!?’ But he held his tongue; one wrong word could mean excruciating pain for him.

 Knock Out hummed to himself as he put the starter back to its original place, taking the third dish over to the table. He pulled the lid off and seemed to have been ignorant of Breakdown’s gagging.

 Laserbeak sat on the dish, charred, lifeless and settled in a dark blue puddle of Energon. Coiling around the drone were tentacles, which the van recognised as belonging to Soundwave. To top it all off, a few dark sharp pieces of metal and tiny spools of thin cables were scattered around the plate, as if trying to make the monstrosity look like a piece of art.

 “For our main, we have roast Laserbeak with cable garnish. You really hated Soundwave, didn’t you? The fact that he spied on us all the time with that pest Laserbeak? Don’t worry, neither of them will bother you anymore…” Knock Out purred, leaning into the side of Breakdown’s neck and nuzzled the cables there. He pulled away with a smile and a sigh. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy this.”

 The medic stabbed one of Soundwave’s cables. He picked up the knife and with his usual methodical skill, slowly cut a thin slice of the cable and held it up to Breakdown once more. “I didn’t try any of this since I was saving it for you, so you’ll have to tell me what you think.” Knock Out watched the larger ‘Con raptly, waiting for a reaction. The van opened his mouth and didn’t wince as the tentacle piece was shoved in unceremoniously, forcing him to start chewing. “So? What do you think? Is it good?”

 Breakdown nodded.

 “I’m glad you like it!” the smaller mech practically chirped, looking more like a Sparkling who’d been praised for a high mark in a test. “Let me try some.” With that, he took a piece of the tentacle for himself and consumed it voraciously, humming in delight over the taste. “It truly does taste divine. You know, next time I do this, you can be taste tester!”

 No! No! NO! The ex-Stunticon could only pray that this whole ordeal was a nightmare and that he would wake up soon.

 He couldn’t possibly be here.

 He couldn’t possibly be being force fed the other Decepticons.

 And THIS couldn’t possibly be Knock Out!

 He didn’t even notice that he’d started crying until the Aston Martin stroked his cheek. “What’s the matter? Don’t cry… Tell me what’s wrong…” the narcissist asked, his tone shifting once again, this time sounding genuinely concerned and sympathetic. “Don’t worry… I’ll make you feel better, I promise. We can just finish eating and then we can do whatever you like, okay?”

 The van nodded again.

 Knock Out stabbed the tip of Laserbeak’s left wing, cutting off a sizeable portion with the knife and holding it up. Breakdown couldn’t help but look at the energon dripping off the piece and once again made no protest as it was put into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed as quickly as he could, hoping that this would all be over quickly and he’d wake up in his berth and the others would still be alive and he would go racing with Knock Out and fight Bulkhead and… and…

 “Almost done. I’m sure you certainly have enough room for dessert, don’t you?”

 Scrap.

 Knock Out picked up the dish and walked back over to the side, picking up the fourth and final dish. “For dessert…” He started, his voice betraying the threat of danger. He placed the dish in front of the larger and held onto the lid. “…we have that disgusting femme who tried to stick her filthy little claws into you.”

 The lid was pulled off.

 Breakdown couldn’t help the scared gasp that left him.

 Airachnid’s severed head was settled in the middle of the plate, her half-lidded dimmed optics gazing downwards. Surrounding it were the tips of her extra legs and five white spheres and the blue van quickly realized what they were.

 Sparks.

 “I heard that if you were to consume another’s spark… you can see a few moments from their life… Could we test that out?” the medic grabbed one of the sparks and without further ado, shoved it into Breakdown’s mouth, ignoring the choking sounds. “Just eat and you can tell me who you think it might have belonged to.”

 ‘Might as well… he’ll probably tear MY spark out if I don’t…’

 Breakdown hesitantly bit down, feeling a bizarre energy fill his mouth, a haze crawling slowly into his processer. With that haze, images started to trickle in, so unfamiliar to him. The large Decepticon could only keep on chewing the spark, trying his hardest to ignore the pieces of metal and crystal that were cutting his tongue and finally managed to swallow, feeling the tiny bits of shrapnel slithering down his throat, the haze fully wrapping around his processer. He couldn’t keep any of the images out, finding himself in another mech’s place…

 …A tall purple seeker barking out orders…

 …Two slender mechs perched on top of a tower, looking down on a group of medics…

 …Megatron holding his hand out, a slim hand taking hold…

 …A dark orange seeker coughing up energon, shrapnel embedded in his abdomen…

 …a red Autobot collapsing into a puddle of his energon…

 …Knock Out trembling, holding a scratch on his shoulder…

 Wait.

 That scene he definitely remembered; he and Knock Out had encountered the Autobots after the medic kidnapped a human and the whole ordeal ended with his friend having one of his doors ripped off and his finish scratched.

 A few more familiar scenes briefly flashed in his optics, each one increasing in sharpness and whispers stirring up with the images: The testing of the Energon harvester, Starscream being knocked out of the air by a newly-awakened Megatron, and a shard of Dark Energon being tossed into Skyquake's grave…

 But one more unfamiliar scene played out.

 It was a dark room and tied on one side was a Vehicon screaming out ‘Commander’ and ‘Let him go’, only for the red mech in front to chuckle darkly.

 Knock Out.

 The Aston Martin turned around with a laser scalpel in his hand and a demented smile on his face. He approached Breakdown and reached out, grabbing his tongue. The next few words sent shivers down his spinal struts, embedding themselves into his memory.

 ‘Breakdown hated your voice Starscream. I’ll make him happy by tearing your fraggin’ tongue out!’

 The images stopped, throwing Breakdown back into his own body. He panted quietly, looking back up at Knock Out who appeared to have been waiting patiently for him to snap back into reality. “So?” he started off. “Who do you think that might have been?”

 Breakdown tried to take a breath, the experience still muddling his mind and being painfully surreal. “I think…” he began, his head still lurching from what he had seen. “…I think it was… Starscream.”

 Knock Out smiled. “Is that so? So it is true…” He placed a servo on the top of Airachnid’s head, looking down at her with disdain. “Hmm… Maybe we can move onto the main part of dessert. Just looking as this wench makes me sick.”

 With that, he grabbed hold of the femme’s head and took the top of it off. Breakdown couldn’t help but let a few shudders run through him as he barely suppressed the urge to purge his tanks right there and then. He peered in and saw that thin cables and circuits were mixed up, coated in some sort of golden sticky glaze.

 “I’ll admit, I took some creative liberties with this one.” Knock Out explained, taking up the form and jabbing it into the mess of cables. “I found a substance that humans call Sugar and it supposed to be used to make food sweeter. So combined that with some oil and mixed it with Airachnid’s processer while heating and this was the result. I wonder if it tastes as good as it looks…?” He pulled out a large bundle of cabling and shoved the golden mass into Breakdown’s mouth.

 The taste was impossible to ignore, the sweetness was completely mind-numbing and made the van sick to the core. He tried to chew through the mass, only for most of it to stick to his denta and make it even harder to get through. He tried to finish it as quickly as he could, but it felt more like an eternity when he was finally able to swallow the disgusting sweetness. He tried to take a breath, only for another forkful to be stuffed into his mouth, starting the process all over again. He wanted to spit it out and shout at Knock Out to let him go and leave him alone forever, but one look into those red and black optics stopped him; they still held that edge of dominance and promised pain if the narcissist didn’t get what he wants.

 A few more kliks and Breakdown finished again, feeling the stickiness crawl down his throat, trying to stick in him for as long as possible.

 He started coughing, prompting Knock Out to place a servo on his back and rub calming circles. “You okay? Maybe you ate too quickly.” He stated with a tiny smile. “Well, I’m glad you liked dessert. Actually, did you enjoy the whole meal? Did you?” The servo on the larger mech’s back curled into a fist, claws scratching the surface and causing tiny beads of energon to appear.

 “Y-Yes…” Breakdown lied. “It was delicious… Thank you for the meal.”

 Knock Out laughed cheerfully. “I’m glad you loved it! Oh Breakdown, you’re just such a perfect mech…” He pulled away and grabbed the final dish, setting it to the side with the other monstrosities. “So that’s the meal and date over! How about we have a drink just to finish it all off?”

 Oh for the love of Primus! Can’t this just be over and done already!?

 “Sure… I’m a little thirsty.” Breakdown answered, praying that the drink wasn’t going to be another horrible disgusting surprise. “Anything in particular, Knock Out?”

 “Just some special Energon.”

 The medic pulled out two glasses and a bottle of pure glowing energon. He set down the glasses and opened the bottle, pouring in the blue liquid into the both of them. Setting down the bottle, Knock Out picked up both glasses and held one to Breakdown’s lips. The larger mech opened his mouth, with no hesitation this time and let the sweet crisp energon flow down his throat. It was such a welcome change from the disgusting tastes that had been forced upon him and it tasted all the more sweeter. But there was another minute flavour to it, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

 All too soon, the glass was empty and pulled away from his lips, one tiny droplet slipping down his chin to join the bitter mess there. Knock Out just looked at the larger and sipped at his glass. “You wanted to say something?” He suddenly asked, his tone unreadable. “You’ve been looking at me in a strange way… So I assumed that there was something that you wanted to tell me.”

 Breakdown wanted the floor to swallow him up there and then. He was stuck; if he asked what he wanted to know, then there was a chance of him getting killed, but if he tried to get out of it and say that he didn’t have anything to say, than that would SURELY lead to his death.

 “Actually, yeah, I wanted to ask you something… Why?” Breakdown began. Might as well say it. “Why did you do this? When you had gotten me to eat Starscream’s spark, I saw you declaring that you wanted to make me happy. Is that why you killed everyone else? If not, then why did you? Tell me!”

 Knock Out’s optics narrowed, only to open up again. “I thought it was obvious Breakdown.” His voice was neutral, yet sounded as if it were on the brink of anger or sadness. He took a massive swig of energon. “I did it to make you happy… all because I love you.”

 The van froze. “You… what…?”

 “I. Love. You.” Knock Out clenched the glass in his servo. “I loved you since I met you and I just wanted you for myself, but everyone else was getting in the way.”

 CRACK!

 The glass shattered into pieces, sending fragments and the remaining energon tumbling to the floor. “I wanted to have you out of harm’s way… and then that whole incident with M.E.C.H. happened and I vowed to protect you from everyone and everything.” The Aston Martin walked closer to Breakdown and took his face into both of his servos, looking down at the larger with sad optics. “I also saw that everyone wanted you one way or another or just made you so unhappy… Megatron always sent you out on missions that could have killed you, Starscream treated you like scrap and wouldn’t keep his mouth shut, Soundwave always lurked around spying on you and Airachnid… Don’t get me started on that vile disgusting psychopath!”

 “I even started doing little things to make sure you knew how I felt about you. I always asked about how you were and what you were feeling, I gave you your morning energon… Little things like that… But I wanted to make a grander gesture… Something to prove beyond a doubt that I love you.” Knock Out seated himself in Breakdown’s lap, never once breaking his gaze. “So I came up with this. It was brilliant; I could prove my love and get rid of the others in one go! But I wanted to top it all off with one tiny gesture… That energon we just drank? That was mine. Straight from my veins.”

 Breakdown wanted to try and get away from Knock Out, but with the straps still in place, he was trapped until his partner decided to let him go. “Are you serious? You went through all this… just to—“

 The ex-Stunticon couldn’t finish what he was about to say as the medic’s lips were sealed upon his, gentle yet firm. The kiss was surprisingly pleasant, even though Knock Out seemed a little too eager and tried to deepen it further. After a few kliks, he finally pulled away and laid his head on Breakdown’s shoulder, his expression more calm. “Breakdown… I want to know… Do you love me?” he asked quietly. “Please, tell me… do you love me?”

 The larger Decepticon didn’t answer.

 He wanted to be friends with Knock Out.

 But he didn’t love him.

 Never would.

 “Knock Out… I…”

END