Archive of Our Own ^beta

Velocitronians weren’t made to pause. To stay still and watch their wheels decay as their coding made them want to cry and rip their limbs or sparks out when forced to stay idle. 

That, was the worst kind of torture a mech of their kind could endure. 

And it was even worse after such a long time of stasis. Blurr stretched slightly, feeling like his muscle memory remembered every instant locked in a stiff, painful position that made him want to scream. He really couldn’t wait to move.

::Blurr!:: The snap arrived over comm arrived even though he only moved ever so slightly, he was sure those tiny human eyes didn’t even notice. But of course Heatwave had to be an annoying stuck up jerk. ::Stay still. They’ll notice you.::

Blurr had to keep his expression neutral, robot like, which he hated. Still, everywhere. He couldn’t even distract himself by sneering at his team leader. He continued staring at nothing, counting down the time for the parade to be over. 

—

The parade took way too long, and when it was over, he just glared harshly at his teammates as they stepped back inside. Chase was turning to him already to say something about not blowing their cover, he could see it in his expression. But Blurr wasn’t stopping around for another lecture.

“I’m going for a drive. “ He muttered to Heatwave, and it wasn’t really a question, it was a statement. He transformed, bursting away at full speed, ignoring the voices or the calls over comm. He was really done with this. 

His mind was finally, blissfully blank as the only things important to him were the rumbling of his engine and the screeching of asphalt under his wheels. He didn’t know where he was going either really, it didn’t matter as long as he never had to stop.

But of course, he had to live on a tiny, useless island. As he passed for the fourth time in front of the harbor, he stopped. Primus. He was tired of not being able to roam.

He looked at one of the tiny, embarrassingly small ships, and he had an idea.

Maybe the mainland would be more enjoyable. He could always come back after all, he was not that needed most of the time. Chase could handle the high speed pursuit for a while. He’d deserve it

—

Knockout sighed softly as he walked restlessly in the hall, really wanting to go to race somewhere. His med bay was only full of fools that hurt themselves in the most ridiculous of ways (or pissing off the wrong mech, right Starscream?) and could deal with some pain on their own, so he could consider himself a free mech. So why was he forced to stay there? At least when Breakdown was around, he could pass it off as a patrol, or accompanying his partner for backup and speed.

But now that Breakdown was…

The whirring of his saw brought Knockout back to reality, and he frowned as he stared at his transformed servo. He hastily put it away, he wasn’t one to react so badly, and with everything going on the last thing he wanted was Soundwave seeing-

“Enquiry: Knockout free?”

Knockout almost jumped out of his armor, his free hand immediately clenching on the one which was about to activate his saw. He knew such an action would result in an untimely, and painful, death. He turned around, slowly, facing the creepy Third in Command while forcing a slight smirk on his face.

“Of course Sounders!” He chirped, hoping the reward for being a good underling would be a pass to go on Earth and spin his wheels some. Soundwave at least rarely cheated him out of a good deal, unlike a certain seeker.  “What can I do for you?”

The visor lit up as an explanation, and Knockout blinked at the recording of a car speeding on a highway at impossible speed, impossible for those puny humans at least, in such a manner that his own wheels started spinning, his spark almost hurting with the longing of following the car in a long race. It was such a strong desire that only after a few seconds he realized there was a human voice commenting. A news report.

“-Has been recorded several times in the last few days. Physicists and car manifacturers for the same car this seem to be say it’s impossible to reach such speeds on the ground and for this long. Could it be some kind of new modification? The authorities are doing their best to catch the unknown speedster, and warn the population to be cautious. The vehicle has been involved in no crashes directly, but its reckless driving has caused several other cars to crash into each other to avoid it.”

Soundwave was still staring (sort of? Knockout couldn’t really see his face after all) at the medic waiting for something. Something Knockout had known the first moment he had seen the car’s speed.

“A velocitronian?” He asked, though it was rhetorical. “There’s really few left of us, and I’m the only Decepticon.”

He smirked at Soundwave then.

“You’re asking me to race with this guy and catch him? That’s more a gift for me than for you, you know I’m in.”

“Soundwave: aware Knockout will enjoy the assignment. Knockout: just remember the gift.”

The red medic snorted even as the bridge opened.

“Yes, yes, I’ll babysit Laserbeak. Thanks Sounders.”

—

In Blurr’s defense, he’d like to make a few points. Two, but they still counted as a few after all.

One: he had not meant to go that far. He had thought to drive for at most a day and then come back with the first… was ferry the right name? Yes, ferry that went back to Griffin Rock before anyone could miss him too much. Not that anyone really would. Now if it had been a week before he had come back to enough senses to check his chronometer, could it really be counted as his fault?

Two: He had not realized his systems were so overwhelmed with the desire to drive they’d shut down all non necessary systems, comms among them. It wasn’t his fault, was it? He could blame it on his frametype, or even Primus. Yes, that could work. He was just born that way!

Three (Look! He even arrived to three, he was definitely innocent): He didn’t know anyone could be fast enough to keep up with him, or even see him among those little organics. After all he was of one of the rarest frametypes in existence after the Praxians!

With all this, it couòdn’t really be considered Blurr’s fault right?

Of course, nothing of this changed the smirking Decepticon who had come out of nowhere, cornered him and sat on his alt mod like he was some sort of toy, or worse, a chair. Blurr felt his engine rev angrily, but before he could try and get him off, he froze as the dying sunlight shone on a metallic, gagged surface. 

A circular saw. 

Blurr knew a threat when he saw one, and knew to be completely defenseless. A caught prey.

“Why hello, fellow velocitronian.” The cultured, accented voice spoke softly, with an air that was way too friendly for a mech clearly threatening him. “You’re Blurr, aren’t you? I thought you were faster than this, what a shame.”

Blurr started trying to ping Heatwave, his voice lost in the terror grappling him. The mech knew who he was, and most of all could clearly see his Rescue Bot badge. He was a dead mech.

Only static came back to him. Signaling the end of his last hope.

“I think you could be faster than this if properly motivated.” The Decepticon continued, unperturbed by his silence. “So let’s try this way. I’ll let you go and give you a ten seconds headstart. If I catch you, I’ll torture any information you have out of you, and then use you as a lab rat. Like the deal?”

Blurr had lost every way of speaking, but all his frame instinctively tensed, ready to bolt. He had to outrun him. He had to escape.

The red menace smirked.

“Go ahead!” He laughed, but most of all Blurr could feel the mech’s weight lifting.

He bolted, with all the speed he could muster.

He would never stop.