Work Text:
Wo?
Knock Out gazed out at the distant horizon. He was seated on the flight deck of the Nemesis. He often slipped away from the Autobots to hide in his solace. It felt too surreal.
He survived the war. But was he truly living now? If one could call numbness surviving, then Knock Out was a winner.
Wo ist...?
Energon had no taste. His words masked the lifeless husk he was. Recharge came in brisk allowances. There was no longer the fear of Megatron's wrath to distract him. Words haunted him. Every time he blinked, Knock Out's mind wandered.
Ich hätte gern...
“What am I supposed to do now?” Knock Out questioned over and over with a subdued tone.
His face fell into his servos. His frame felt heavy. What could he do? He would never truly fit in with the Autobots.
Knock Out heard laughing. Warmth that once gave him life.
He hid his face against his arms.
Ich will dich...
He felt phantom touches against him. He shook his head in denial.
“It's cruel,” Knock Out hissed and looked up to the sky with jaded optics.
Occasionally he saw that face, remembering the happiness he once felt. Until it dissolved into the bitter truth and disappeared.
Ich habe nichts.
Not even the memories helped to comfort him.