You know how I said the last chapter was my longer chapter yet? Yeah.

This one is over 1,700 words longer than that one. It's over 5,800 words.

I really outdid myself on this one! Especially considering that I'm on time again this week! Woo!

Speaking of updating on time...who of you that reads this doesn't mind a strange update day? Like, tomorrow or Thursday kind of update, and then another one on Tuesday? I'm writing this long on purpose, but I'm sort of frustrated on how slowly I'm getting the plot out to you guys. I wanna get farther during the week with my readers so that I can share the fun bits of my story!

So, how bout it? Might be able to churn out another two chapters by next Tuesday, instead of just one, if I can get a few reviews for motivation?

Wishful thinking on my part, I think.

(Still looking for a new name for this story! For the rules and prizes, go see chapter one!)

This place was hell. Only a week after being transferred into these new, stronger and yet less-able bodies, and we had both gained a burning hatred for our new species.

All except Breakdown and Knock Out. Those two seemed to be the only decent creatures in this place. Breakdown was chill, calming us down and talking to us like equals, and giving us pointers to survive training a little better.

Knock Out has settled on a cold caring sort of attitude. He never said a nice thing to us or even looked at us with anything kinder than apathy, but tended to our every need before we even knew we needed it, and with more gentleness than we thought possible from him.

Val and I were exhausted from the training, long hours in some cold, dark training room where a large, bulky mech tore into us and laughed when we couldn't keep up with him. It took a few hours on the first day to even figure out how to get our weapons out.

We both had tons of weapons hidden around our bodies and extra space in little 'pocket dimensions', or our subspace. Breakdown explained how to work them when he saw us putting our blankets in there and then looking around to try and find out how they worked.

Val had more melee weapons than I did, though we both seemed to be built for close-range fighting. She had retractable claws on her strange feet and on her hands. All were razor sharp and her toes had a wicked curve, meant for digging deep and staying locked on, while her hand claws were straight, for harsh slashing.

Her forearms could turn into guns that had bullets that would apparently be able to tear through armor when she got older, and each shoulder had a blaster that fired molten plasma. Her hips held two swords, straight and sharp, with ragged edges that made them harder to pull out of armor then it was to put them in. Acting as extra armor on the sides of her thighs were two saw blades that attached to her hands. Those were so strong she managed to slice one of our trainers fingers off.

I had toe claws that matched hers in everything but size, as mine were bigger because my body was. I had similar shoulder blasters that were bigger, more powerful, but slower than hers were. I had dual swords that were exactly like hers but a bit larger, to be proportionate with my size compared to hers.

The weapons on my forearms seemed to be large cannons instead of guns. They packed a bigger punch, but took longer to get the shots off. Instead of thigh saws, I had a large, two handed, double-edged battle axe on my back, in between my wings.

Did I mention that I had wings? They were like plane wings cut into three pieces and stuck into my back. Turns out those were what was throwing off my balance every time I moved. They were big on me, and flared out so that they looked like butterfly wings. They were ferociously annoying to get used to, and very sensitive compared to the rest of my armored body.

The unexpected weight of them had thrown me off the first few times I tried to stand. I earned a nasty gash from Brawl each time, until I could eventually balance enough with them to slash at his fingers with my tiny swords.

I don't think that our bodies were supposed to stand so early in their lives. Without the right food and the amount of stress being put on me during the beating sessions, my stubby legs shook and shivered in pain and weakness every time I stood. Walking was impossible at this point, but I feel like Brawl would get more and more ruthless until we could make a few steps. I wouldn't be able to last much longer in the ring without being able to dodge.

It was too much. We were pushed way beyond our body and minds limits in training alone, which doesn't include the isolation from the rest of humanity and starving us until we could actually digest the stuff we were given. I could use my tiny weapons easier than I could stand. This could not be a healthy environment, even for these creatures.

I was starting to doubt that this species even had consciences. Most of them didn't, pushing and slicing at babies of their own species without a care, with glee, even. Some of them didn't enjoy it, but didn't care past that. Flatline was terrifyingly interested in us and how all of this stress was affecting our systems. Only Knock Out and Breakdown were good, and even that was a stretch. More like they were careful because we were children, currently, which was more than I could say about any other fucking robot in this base.

Every day, we wake up from one of our strangely frequent naps, complete the painful ritual of forcing down all the energon we could stomach, and get taken to the training room by Breakdown by the scruff of our necks.

It was hard, and neither of us could think fast enough to be effective at fighting. It was easier to just run on instinct.

And that's what we did. We stopped thinking during fights, instead letting the feel of adrenaline become familiar to us, and rage and the will to survive take over during the fights. The robot bodies wanted to act differently to the feeling, to let rage and fear completely blind us to everything, like it didn't know how to react. We had been human though, and knew how to avoid becoming so possessed by instinct that we attacked anything. With the knowledge of fighting in our human lives we could work with our instincts to come to a balance.

Fight like an animal, all claws and teeth and instinct, but be able to pull ourselves out of it when the danger was gone, despite the adrenaline still pumping through our bodies. Like humans could. Val thinks that that sort of control isn't something these things have, that they stay in that sort of blood-rage until it gets entirely out of their systems. The way our bodies kept trying to keep us blind with rage was telling in that point.

The mechs training us had been surprised by our viciousness, so much that they called Starscream down to watch one of our sessions, were Val and I fought together against our tormentor.

When he had called for a halt, Val and I panting and snarling from the fight still in us, he seemed almost smug as he stared at us. I'm sure our eyes were wild when we stared back at him, but he seemed to be pleased by that.

At this rate, they will nurture a battle rage that rivals the Autobot twins, he had purred, happily looking over us. He ordered that training would continue as it had, and once we started to improve, they would change the training to match.

I wasn't looking forward to that, because we were getting better, somehow. Desperation and necessity, probably.

It was also because were cheating, sort of. Though neither of us really considering it cheating; if they were going to beat on tiny children, any advantage we could get we would take.

Sometime during the last few days we had started to use the bond we had to give each other strength when we were fighting. We were somehow able to use it to filter away the weakness and bad feelings from the other, and could send encouragement and strength back to replace it. We couldn't really change each others moods-just influence them.

It had gotten stronger through that, and we had figured out a way to make training a bit easier. While one of us was in the ring, the bond was flared as wide open as we could stand. The one in the ring let themselves be taken by their "battle-rage", while the other one observed the fight. Whoever was in the ring could use the information the other was sending over the bond to fight, while leaving their own mind free to focus on fighting. It made it easier to watch out for the cheap shots the mechs loved to take just to watch us screech in pain.

Today we were deep into another training session, this time with the police bot who had captured us, Barricade. Both Val and I were fighting, which usually meant that we would be going back to med bay soon. My body ached, legs wobbling dangerously as they struggled to keep me upright. Energon dripped down my frame, leaking like lifeblood from fresh wounds. Burns from Barricade's smaller guns cauterized the cuts near the hits. My body was getting numb, the adrenaline running through me making it so I couldn't feel the pain. My control of my limbs was perfect though, a side effect from the robot's species way of dealing with their "battle-rage."

Val and I stood close to each other, both of us with our shoulder blasters whining from overheating, her with her saws out and me dragging along my battleaxe. Our systems throbbed with stress, fans working at their highest level to keep us cool. Neither of us really noticed, only knowing what was happening to our bodies because we had doing this for some odd five days.

Both of us were snarling at Barricade, already sharp armor spiked in an unconscious move to make us look bigger. My wings flared for the same cause. Our claws were out, tearing small gashes in the floor as we flexed them. My eyes were locked on the towering mech, trying to stay alert for the last part of the training for today.

The black and white mech slashed out at me and I blocked, lifting my heavy axe to stop his hand and firing off a few shots from my strained blasters. The shots sent a wave of searing heat down to my shoulders, but that was quickly numbed and put out of my mind to focus on the fight.

I caught sight of some movement and turned my head to see.(These new bodies practically had tunnel vision-peripheral was nonexistent.) The was Barricade's other arm, moving to get a cheap shot on Val while she had been watching the attack on me.

Fury pulsed through me, sending a fresh wave of whatever these things had for adrenaline running through my veins. The bond we had been keeping closed to concentrate flared open and I showed Val the attack, turning around on unsteady feet to protect her from the attack myself.

Our minds, overcome with battle rage, synced together and we moved together, me taking a few heavy steps forward while Val spun and slashed out with her saws, cutting a line through the wrist and sending the hand away, towards me.

Quickly I finished what she had started, spinning my heavy axe to gain momentum and heaving it down through the air and into Barricade's wrist, severing it almost completely. The arm wrenched itself back, the hand now useless, holding on by a few cables, bright blue energon spilling onto the ground.

My legs shook from the first steps I had taken, but Val pressed her side against mine so we could support each other, weapons still out and eyes locked on our opponent.

Barricade looked furious, cradling his useless hand with his other. He took a menacing step forward, Val and I tensing in preparation for the attack, but a heavy green arm swung out to stop the outraged mech.

"That's enough." Brawl sounded amused, sending a dark grin at Barricade. "That was improvement compared to their other, miserable training sessions. You can't offline them because you're pissed; Starscream wouldn't be pleased." Brawl probably really didn't care what Starscream thought, but followed orders to avoid punishment. That seemed to be the norm around here; nobody liked Starscream. "Breakdown's on his way to get the little goblins anyway."

Barricade shoved past Brawl's arm, snarled at us, and moved to the side of the room to sulk. Brawl snickered at him and moved back to the other side of the room, ignoring us. We hadn't moved from where we were before, weapons still out and ready, though we had powered down our blasters. Both of us heaved in heavy breaths to cool ourselves down, trying to come down from the battle rage and let our systems rest.

Only when the door opened and Breakdown stepped through did we deactivate our weapons. The large blue and white mech picked us up by the scruff bars, holding our energon-covered frames away from his chest. I sagged in exhaustion, happy to be off my feet, even if it was in an uncomfortable position like this one.

"How'd they do?" Breakdown turned to the other mechs in the room with his usual question, raising a metal eyebrow at Barricade's severed hand.

"Considering their previous performances, better." Brawl answered from the other side of the room, walking over to shove in a somewhat friendly manner at Barricade. "Riot over there managed to take a few steps, and on her way to chop off Barricade's hand, as you can see."

Barricade snarled darkly at Brawl, but the army green mech ignored him. Breakdown shook his head, looking down at us in amusement.

"You think Starscream'll wanna up the training because of it?" He asked as Val shifted uncomfortably in his hold. Neither of us were very fond of being held prone in the air like kittens.

"Likely; that was a good hit from them." Brawl's face shifted in harsh mischievousness. "Though he won't need Barricade in the training, if they can get him so easily at this level."

Breakdown shifted on his feet, turning out of the room just as Barricade lifted his good arm in a fist. As we exited the room there was a the large banging sound of Barricade landing a hit on Brawl. The sounds of fighting trailed off behind us as Breakdown carried us towards the med bay.

It wasn't startling anymore. Everyone in this base seemed to fight all the time; tempers ran hot and nobody seemed to like or trust each other. There were a few groups of friends, but outside those groups was only hatred. It made me sick to be in a dark place like this. I missed the kindness that strangers possessed, I missed my friendly neighbors who helped out even though they didn't know anything about us before we moved, and I missed talking to people you were stuck beside on a hot bus and finding out that you had more in common than you thought. Hell, I even missed the barely-there politeness people who were having a terrible day used, just barely refraining from snapping because they knew strangers didn't deserve it.

What I wouldn't do for a taste of the sun, I thought as I stared down at my frame, watching the glowing energon drip down my frame slowly. The familiar doors of the med bay slid open before us, and I dragged my eyes up to see Knock Out turn to us from where he had been tidying up a table full of sharp medical gear.

We were set down on a massive examination table we had grown used to and were immediately handed bottles filled with a small amount of energon. I made a face, exhausted and hungry, but then, I was always exhausted and hungry. It was the state of life around here.

Knock Out immediately set to fixing us up, smearing a cooling paste over the burns and welding the larger cuts closed. Gently lifting and shifting us so that he could reach every little scratch, his actions betraying his apathetic expression.

Since I had gained the worse damage, Knock Out fixed me up first. While he worked, I took tiny sips of energon, taking in as little as possible at one time to make it as easy as possible to digest. It still tasted rancid and sank to the bottom of my stomach, but the small amounts let us take as much as we could out of the stuff. Knock Out said that the stuff we couldn't process would build up in our insides, and once in a while we'd need to 'cleanse' and then 'purge' it all to keep ourselves from...something. Apparently the stuff could clog up our 'tanks' and engines and 'render our systems inoperable', which translated too easily. That shit would screw up our insides big time.

Cold water brushing against my armor made me jump, startling away from Knock Out and his wet cloth. He moved the cloth back to me, other hand curled around me for comfort, face giving away nothing. In my contemplations about the stuff, I had slowly finished my energon, bottle empty and the contents still stinging on my tongue.

Knock Out finished cleaning the dried energon off of me and took the bottle, subspacing it for next time. Then he opened his subspace again to pull out my green blanket, tucking it around me as he moved me away from the blue-stained spot where I had been sitting before. He moved on to Val, handing the energon soaked cloth to Breakdown to dispose of.

"Riot took her first steps today." Breakdown mentioned, voice on that edge of teasing, knowing that Knock Out would be interested. He seemed to be able to read the red mech better than Val or I could, and Knock Out put up with him, much to our surprise. "Ran to Havoc's defense."

"Hn." Knock Out sounded annoyed, but his eyes flicked to me immediately after Breakdown had finished talking. "They are too young to be forced to be standing, let alone fighting." Despite his words, Knock Out kept shifting his eyes back over to me, as if I might stand up again and he would miss it.

"Maybe, but the kids are tougher than you given them credit for." Breakdown returned from dealing with the cloth and leaned against the table, grinning at Knock Out and running a finger along my head fondly. "They are standing and fighting, and holding up well for Starscreams standards. The little femme here took her first steps for her friend here, and severed Barricade's servo while she was at it."

"Oh?" Knock Out seemed impressed as he spread cooling gel over Val's burnt shoulders. She sighed in relief, putting her finish bottle of energon down beside her. Knock Out finished with the gel and snagged it from the table.

"Oh yeah. Barricade was steaming mad, and picked a fight with Brawl before I even got out of the room." Breakdown smirked, poking me gently in the side. "Well done, kid. Never liked that sneaky bot. Too underhanded for my tastes."

I hummed in annoyance, swatting at his fingers to get him to leave me alone. I was exhausted, and ready to fall asleep, or 'recharge', for the day. Aching and hungry and sick still, but curled up in my blanket with wounds freshly taken care of was about as good as it got for us now, and I wasn't about to waste the opportunity listening to my two least hated mechs arguing with each other.

Knock Out slapped at Breakdown to leave me alone, swaddling Val in her purple blanket and placing her down next to me. I stared up at him curiously, wondering what sort of mood he was in behind his indifferent mask. If he was in a good mood, he'd hold us in the crook of his elbow like he had our first night, and let us listen to his spark. If he wasn't, he'd leave us where we were and lower the lights, and we fell asleep to the sound of his buffer shining his paint. Sometime even Breakdown would pick us up, if he was particularly proud of our performance in the ring that day.

The conversation with Breakdown must've put him in a bad mood, since he went over to the other side of the room to pick up his polishing clothes. Breakdown lowered the lights and picked us up, in the same positions that Knock Out held us in.

"Great job today." Breakdown smirked at us, rubbing his large fingers over our antennae. The sensitive appendages left us melting in his grip. "One day you two will be so strong you won't have to worry about Brawl or Barricade anymore. You'll be able to hold your own, and nobody will be able to hurt you again." His face softened a bit when he looked down at us, fire in his eyes. "And if you ever find yourself a little weaker than you want to be, just call old Breakdown here. I'll watch out for while you lift yourselves back up."

This was a familiar speech, as Breakdown had said something similarly uplifting every time he held us for sleep. Unlike Knock Out, Breakdown seemed to accept whatever instinct had him protecting us. He never showed it outside the med bay, though, and never with any other mech near. Family relationships seemed to be frowned upon in this base.

I nodded off easily, exhaustion dragging me down into sleep as fast as it could. I feel asleep to the sound of Breakdown's engine and the light noises of Knock Out buffing his armor with the soft cloth.

I really regret that sudden show of improvement two days ago.

Val had managed to take a few steps herself, and made a deep gash in Brawl's armor with her saws. As deep as her small saws could go, anyway, which wasn't anywhere near getting through Brawl's armor. Her tiny, three foot tall frame was just too small to do much damage.

Not that I was any better, at three and a half feet. The only reason my axe had gone through Barricade was because it was larger than my torso. God knows how big it would when I was fully grown. Apparently the weapons grew with us, with the addition of upgrades when they needed it.

Anyway, our first steps and first real damage done during training convinced Starscream that we were ready for harder trials. As so he ordered our two trainers to 'take it up a notch', which was said and met with suspicious smiles.

Apparently 'up a notch' translated to 'beat them so badly that they can't keep up and pass out at the end of each session.' It was exceptionally fun.

Not.

Our two tormentors didn't give us a chance to see their movements anymore, and attacked us relentlessly. Neither of us could think, and we had to rely completely on the battle rage to fight. The bond was stretched almost wider than our human halfs could stand so that one person could share as much information as they could while the other fought for their life. They wouldn't really kill us, but they sure as hell were willing to do a lot of damage.

Yesterday we had both passed out the moment Brawl called an end to the training. We shouldn't have let our eyes off of the mechs for a second, because we woke up with fresher wounds than we'd had before. Breakdown had been snarling something in a strange warped, computer-noise sounding language, pinning Barricade against the wall with one hand and the other turned into a hammer. Knock Out had shown up out of nowhere, scooped us up, and clipped back to the med bay in the most rushed pace I had seen him move at.

Breakdown had come in later with a few new dents, breaking the stony silence that Knock Out had left us in with a cheerful exclamation of 'they won't be trying anything while you two are in stasis again.'

Today was worse. Both Barricade and Brawl were pissed from whatever Breakdown had done to them, but I doubted that they would touch us if we passed out again. They were taking out their frustrations on us, never giving the small rests we had had before hand, instead dragging in one of us, then bringing in the other so we could fight together, then sitting out whomever was first for a while.

I had thought the first week was exhausting, I had thought it couldn't get any worse than yesterday; today I couldn't think at all. I couldn't spare the time, instead acting, slashing and firing, opening and closing the bond depending on whether we were both out there or not.

I had no idea how long I had been fighting, no idea how long I had watched Barricade's smug face as he played with us and grown more furious at the thought that we couldn't take him. The 'breaks' we got wouldn't calm us down, as we kept our minds open to the other's battle rage for the strange information dump.

I was currently 'resting', trying desperately to clear my mind enough to give Val enough information. She was slashing wildly at everything she saw coming near her, and she had long since passed forming strategies. Now she was just seeing and acting as fast as she could, keeping the weapons coming at her at bay.

I could hear her systems shrieking in protest, cooling fans desperately working to help where they could. She was panting, past snarling, and trying helplessly to keep herself moving the tiny steps necessary to dodge Brawl's swings at her. Her body was wracked with another shudder, and she gave a noise that sounded like a choked growl, but resounded like a sob over the bond.

Barricade shoved me with his foot, putting me into the ring beside Val. I didn't have enough presence of mind to close the bond, nor enough will to separate myself from someone who shared the burden and helped my spark. We'd just have to watch each other's backs through the bond.

That state of mind lasted for perhaps a few minutes, until Brawl attacked us both, the two us too concentrated on warning each to react fast enough to avoid the attack itself. We both were hit, bounding away too slowly, and the anger that the fight-or-flight blood rage poured over us. Neither of us had enough in us to calm each other down, and the instinct took over.

The bond swelled open farther than it ever had before, filling our minds with each other. The human parts of us cringed back in disgust at the intrusion, allowing the battle rage further purchase in our minds. I ignored the invasive feeling for the weapon coming at me, sharing the mental load with Val but not really thinking at all, trying frantically to survive this fucking training.

Too small, I was too small for this, too young to be fighting like this, too young to have a battle rage, too young to be able to get rid of it, I could feel it settle in my mind, where it would remain. I was a damn child for fucks sake, I can't believe that I had to fight like this, that the damned dorito wanted soldiers for his army, didn't care that we had thoughts, didn't treat us like children of his race because we were taken from 'squishy insects' instead of born regularly.

I faded out a bit, only catching flashes of my dual blades slicing through the air, tearing through armor, too-big hands and weapons coming after me, jumping in front of my small silver sister in this fight, her protecting my back when I couldn't.

I came back who knows how long later, exhausted, the fight draining out me slowly. I stood with my back to Val, arm cannons out and whirring hotly, occasionally clattering, showing that something was wrong. My blasters were a violent heat on my shoulders, whining from being on so long. My toe claws were out, curling reflexively into the floor beneath me as my feet clenched methodically.

The screens over my vision flashed alarmingly at me, notifying me that my systems were overheating, my energon was dangerously low, and I was very close to falling into stasis. Val was gasping behind me, slowly calming down from the fight herself, blasters turned offline.

Barricade and Brawl were on the other side of the room, sipping on energon cubes, watching us with examining eyes. They looked like they had stopped the session a while ago, and had been waiting for us to calm down.

A bit relieved, I deactivated my weapons, allowing my cannons to transform back into burnt hands, my blasters tucking themselves partly away before catching on a bent chunk of armor. I ignored it, pulling the blades up from the ground and handing Val hers carefully. I attached mine back to my hips and dragged my heavy battle axe over my shoulders so it could transform into part of my back again.

When neither mech moved, I gently cinched the bond closed, allowing both of us a well needed break from each other. We both slumped against each other, the dampened bond bringing fatigue to the forefront of our minds.

I strained to keep conscious, aware of what had happened yesterday with the two irritable mechs leaning on the wall. I felt Val shake herself awake against my back.

The door slid open and I caught sight of blue and white armor on a familiar mech, and collapsed in relief, blacking out before I hit the ground.

I woke up groggily, feeling every single ache and pain that littered my frame in detail. They felt fresh, but also taken care of, covered in the odd clear bandages I had gotten used to. Knock Out must've already taken care of us. I snuggled more into my blanket, ignoring the constant hunger for a more natural sleep.

"Wake up, sparklings." A voice with more feeling in it than I had heard in a while commented, and a large finger gently poked at my side, in an undamaged spot. "You need to take in your energon, or risk going into a deeper stasis than before. I can only give you so much through a line."

I groaned dramatically, but still dug my arm out of the blanket to take the bottle. The sooner I got this over with, the better, and the sooner I could go back to sleep.

And...wake up for a new day of training. I groaned again, lower this time, against my bottle. I sucked the energon down faster than usual, beyond caring about nausea anymore.

"Whoa there!" Knock Out snapped, snatching the bottle from my hands, but it was already empty. It had held less than normal; I assumed the rest had been given to me through a 'line'. "You'll make yourself sick." He scolded me gently.

I grumbled at him, eyes closed and still beyond caring anymore. My eyes snapped open for the first time when something wriggled on my legs, and saw Val's antennae flicking back and forth like they did when she woke up.

Knock Out had us cradled in his arm again, sitting down on the stool next to his buffing table. He handed a second bottle to Val, who was settled in her usual spot, head resting on my feet. I heard an exasperated grumble from her, the bond still closed for some much-needed privacy, but she too took the bottle from his hands and stuck it grudgingly in her mouth.

Something about her arm caught my attention, and I stared at it, trying to figure out what was different(besides the new bandages, of course.) My eyes widened when I realized what it was.

Her arm was...shiny. Not only that, but, even, too! The uneven, ragged armor on her arm had been clipped down to a proper length and fitted onto her arm where it was supposed to be. Awed, I stared at her face and her right shoulder, the only other places exposed from her blanket. The armor there was trimmed as well, going from awkwardly hanging onto her frame to fitting her like a glove. The pieces that covered her head like a helmet no longer slid around her head and over her eyes, instead fitting and sliding easily with every movement of her antennae. She didn't look as small as she had before when she looked like a child trying to fit into their parents clothing, and instead felt right, for the first time since we were changed.

I shifted my gaze to my own body, hardly daring to hope. But I didn't need to; mine was just as trimmed and personalized.

My armor no longer ground against itself when I moved, instead shifting in perfect sync with itself like the older mechs armor did. It felt right on my body, slim and fit instead of rattling around my frame loosely. I wriggled the rest of my body to check, and yes, the rest of me seemed to be just as perfectly tailored.

My antennae wiggled and bounced on my head in happiness, and for once, they didn't smack against the too-big plates protecting my head. They bounced again in time with my giddy giggle.

And not only was I more streamlined, I was polished too! While I wasn't a big fan of the black anyway, the new shine to it made me feel more comfortable than I had in a while.

My wings, a little bit easier to control when my emotions got out of hand, squirmed in the containing cloth, wagging in happiness.

"Val!" I couldn't resist calling out to her, still staring at my now even arms. "Do you see your armor?"

"Yeah." She sounded astonished, and I looked up to see her staring at her glossy silver paint. Perhaps feeling my eyes at her, she turned to look at me, red eyes wide. "Who do you think…?"

She didn't bother finishing the question as we both turned up to face Knock Out, who was schooling some expression into a vaguely annoyed look. He narrowed his eyes at our awed gazes.

"Hn." He grunted sourly. When we didn't stop staring at him, he slanted his eyes away. "I was tired of seeing your ugly, misshapen armor hanging off you like scraplets." He sniffed haughtily. "Not to mention your grubby paint jobs."

He sounded angry, but he hadn't put us down yet, which said more about his mood than mere words did. Silently, Val and I exchanged a look, then snuggled back down into our blankets, covering our newly groomed armor again.

Simultaneously, we turned to burrow into Knock Out's chest, curling up against his heartbeat. The red mech above us snorted, but helped us, shifting his arm to pull us closer, like he had our first night.

Sleep came easy.

Remember, I might be able to get two chapters out for next Tuesday, instead of just one! Maybe, but stay tuned!