Archive of Our Own ^beta

Grit did not keep track of time as he traveled slowly across the barren landscape, holding at his chassis as he limped and stumbled.

The empty spot on his abdomen where his badge once was felt cold, even against the ruthless heat.
Primus… What had he done? Abandoning his only purpose because a couple lowly Autobots saved his aft a couple times in one cycle? Apparently so…

“Grit?”

Grit squeezed his optics shut, pushing himself to walk faster, even if he was in utter agony. He didn’t have the opportunity to cauterize his wounds, the cave had completely collapsed all around (and above) him. Who knew who survived that? Grit did, and he was almost dead.

“Grit?!”

At the very least, he knew Vanquish and Hellbat were dead. He killed Vanquish with his own servos… that slagger.

“Grit!”

He wondered where those two Autobots were, though…

“GRIT!”

Suddenly, Grit felt a massive weight slam into his side, tumbling him and the other to the floor with a groan of pain.

“Ow what the frag—!” He grasped at his wounds, his free servo slapping at the attacker until they fell off with an oof. As he came to, opening his optics, he glanced to the side and–
“Knockout?” Grit grunted, optics flickering as he tried to clear his vision.

The red and orange mech before him, the only one he knew with such a prominent back hoe, grinned at him with a bruised faceplate. “You can hear me now?”

“Of course I can…” Grit shook his helm, trying to shake away the aching. It never worked. The pain in his chassis was still wracking at his sensors, but he stifled any noises as he finally– finally! –got to see his oldest friend.

“You have no idea how worried I was!” Knockout cried, his grin faltering at the corners of his lips. His optics were brimming with fluids that Grit just wanted to wipe right off, just like how he used to. “I thought you had– you died!”

Grit hissed as Knockout leapt forward, hugging him tightly, but Grit bit his tongue and hugged his friend back with one arm, the other still holding at his chassis.
“Y’know I don’t die easy…” Grit’s voice was shaky, trying so hard to be strong, to be confident. Knockout saw right through that, as he usually did.

“I know, but…” Knockout pulled away just enough to look down at Grit’s wounds, his optics narrowing as he wiped away his own leak with his forearm. “You’re in critical condition, Grit… who got you this good?”

Grit shook his helm again at Knockout’s concern. It felt nice to be worried about, but he didn’t need to think about Vanquish.
“Don’t worry, he’s not around anymore.” Grit saw the flicker of amusement in Knockout’s optics.
“That’s good, at least you got the last laugh, huh?” Knockout sniffled, wiping his optics once more before looking in his subspace, scrounging around for something– anything– that could help Grit’s condition. “That’s… it’s so you.”

Grit and Knockout left that last word hanging, the two of them falling into silence as Knockout tugged out a rough-looking medkit and clicked it open. Grit grinded his denta as Knockout applied a cleanser to his wounds, the smaller mech shushing the Decepticon– er, traitor.
Because that’s what he was, huh?

“... Did you get hurt?” Grit found himself muttering, optics lifting from his friend’s careful servos and to his face. How he missed that stupid faceplate.
“No.” Knockout shook his helm, a small half-smile forming on his derma, “I did what you said: Get out. I didn’t need to be told twice…”
Grit hummed in approval, nodding his helm slowly.

“How long were you there, Knockout?” “... you mean the cult?” “Yes.”

Knockout’s shoulders lowered at that. Grit noticed, yet didn’t say anything. He’d let his friend talk.

“Well,” Knockout scrounged in his subspace for a patch or gauze– something– to protect Grit’s wounds until they were able to reach a checkpoint to get a real medic, “After you left the squad, I got… upset, I guess. I tried to go after you, but I lost track. Ended up on this Unicron-spawn of a planet… Hellbat played nice, I think I got angry at you and decided to stay. Then… yeah, all this.”

Grit frowned, a look of disappointment crossed his expression. “K.O…”

“I know.” His friend found a roll of gauze and began to unwrap and tie it over Grit, keeping his movements coordinated as best he could, even with trembling servos. “I know it was stupid, you said–”
“To not follow.” Grit finished, servos clenching into fists for only a few seconds, before he forcibly relaxed them.

A guilty expression washed over Knockout’s faceplate, an unfamiliar look that Grit found himself not wanting to see again.

“I just missed you.” Knockout whispered, using his denta to tear off the excess wrap and tucked the remaining away. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t handle it.”

“You had Hammer and the rest–” “But you weren’t there, Grit!” Knockout interrupted, turning away, unable to look at his friend.

“You’re a part of the squad no matter what. Like it or not, we aren’t whole when you’re gone.” Knockout finished, pushing himself to his pedes, holding out his servo after a moment of seething. Even upset, Knockout tried to reach out to Grit.

And that made Grit pause.

“... You want me back?” He stared at Knockout’s servo, noticing the new scruff and markings. He was busy while Grit was away. “Even after what I did to you all? I abandoned you. I left for bigger things, and you still want me?”

Knockout bit his bottom derma, optics squinting as he nodded his helm. “Yeah.” He shakily replied, and Grit couldn’t say no. Not to Knockout. Not after so long. Not after what Knockout must’ve been through under Gigatron and Hellbat while trying to find him.

With that, Grit reached up and grabbed Knockout’s servo, using his friend to lift himself up off the rocky terrain. Like the ever good friend Knockout was, he assisted the larger mech. When they both were upright, with Grit leaning onto Knockout for balance, they both began to trudge through the deserted land.

However, not without Knockout making one last comment:

“What happened to your Decepticon badge? Last time I saw you, you would’ve hurled at the thought of deserting..”

Grit shrugged, “I met a guy who made me realize it wasn’t worth the trouble.”

Knockout stared up at Grit for a long, long moment… before a smile crossed his derma and he shrugged as well. “Fair enough. I'm sure the rest gave them up at this point, too.”

As the two traveled into the sunset... twin badges floated through the wind behind them, disappearing from the world's scrutinizing gaze.