Yes, TWO posts...be amazed! LOL

Inspired by the TF speed writing prompt - Scenario: intimacy in a confined space. Any kind of intimacy - physical, emotional, psychological, up to you.
This took me longer than the allotted speeding writing time but it was one where I started writing and even though it took much longer, I enjoyed it.

It's really just a drabble on my head cannon of Breakdown was an Autobot and a Wrecker till he met and started having an affair with Knock Out. Eventually having to make the choice of staying with the Wreckers and letting Knock Out go or leave the Wreckers to be with Knock Out and become a Decepticon. We know what he chose.

TFP AU - Takes place sometime after Operation: Breakdown

Warnings: Implied slash

It had been an honest series of accidental missteps and subsequent chain reactions that had lead to the two warriors falling through a cliff as the cliff crumbled beneath them, sweeping them up in it's destruction, tumbling down to the base of the mountain as an avalanche of rock poured down on them.

It was by fate's hand alone they had somehow managed to end up sitting up and back to back. The avalanche of rocks completely surrounded them, compact rock and dirt from the chest down inhibited almost all movement. They had managed to secure a little head room from the small amount of movement they did have, rocks resettling themselves as both moved their helms around till they could look back and see one another.

They spent the first fifteen minutes of their captivity snarling and shooting each other glares as they struggled to break free. When that failed, they resorted to flinging insults at one another, which lasted longer than the round of glaring but quickly wore itself out as well. Leading both to eventually lapse into silence.

Breakdown was the first to break it.

"Well." He spoke testily.

Bulkhead frowned in the dark. "Well, what?"

"Well, aren't you going to call your little friends for help?"

"Don't hear you callin' for back up."

"I'll call for back up when I'm good and ready to call for back up." Breakdown snarled back.

The Autobot scoffed. "What you are waiting for? Christmas?"

"Wha- Christmas?"

"Yeah, Christmas."

"I...what?"

"You know, that human holiday where...it's...never mind." Bulkhead sighed, causing the dust to swirl in front of his optics.

"Is that the..." Breakdown shifted minutely against Bulkhead's back. "Is that the one with the...uh...the bunnies?"

Bulkhead shook his head, a chuckle bubbling up, unbidden, as he tossing an amused glance over his shoulder. "Did you just say bunnies?"

"Shut up!" Breakdown shoved back against Bulkhead in what little form of retaliation he could give, making the other warrior laugh just a little more. "Don't care about stupid Earth celebrations."

"Still haven't answered the question." Amusement colored the Autobot's voice. "Why aren't you calling for back up?"

"Don't need back up when you're involved. Can deal with you myself. Better question is why haven't you called for back up yet? I don't recall seeing your little pet scampering about. No partner either." Breakdown threw a smirk over his shoulder. "And here I thought Autobots were practically holding hands when leaving base anymore. Buddy system and all."

That dried up Bulkhead's mirth, the glare and building growl in his throat were testament to that. "Don't need a 'buddy' to kick your aft. Never have."

"You've never kicked my aft."

"Kicked your aft plenty."

"Ha!" Breakdown goaded. "Lets count the times that's happened. Oh look, I don't even need my hands for this. How convenient."

Bulkhead shoved back against Breakdown, igniting a miniature battle that ultimately lead no where.

They ignored each other. Each looking into the darkness straight ahead of him.

Till Breakdown once again broke the silence.

"Not suppose to be here." He mumbled, looking down into the darkness, watching the glow of one optic dimly light scratched dusty plating. It didn't bother him but Knock Out would certainly have something to say.

Bulkhead tilted his head toward the 'Con. "What?"

Breakdown huffed. "I said I'm not suppose to be here."

Looking down, Bulkhead nodded in the darkness. "Yeah, me neither."

They sat for a moment in silence then Breakdown turned to look at him, his voice soft. "Because of last time?"

Bulkhead nodded again. "Yeah. Kinda got chewed out for that. You?"

Breakdown gave a short laugh. "Oh, yeah. Big time."

"Megatron?"

"Knock Out. I can deal with Megatron's reprimands, I don't share a berth with him. But Knock Out..."

Bulkhead smiled. "He does seem easily wound up. Real touchy about that finish of his."

"You have no idea!" Breakdown grinned, chuckling. "You remember how wound up Ripline would get when we'd all run off during battle saying to the Pit with the plan we're gonna slag who we want to? THAT degree of wound up."

The reference shocked Bulkhead, gave him pause. He'd not heard Breakdown refer to their time as Wreckers in almost uncountable vorns. It was a rarity for Breakdown to even acknowledge he had once been an Autobot, a Wrecker...a friend.

The feeling was bitter sweet but Bulkhead latched onto it none the less. "Heh, hard to believe someone could get as riled up as Ripline use to. That's a rather high bar."

Breakdown chuckled for a few moments, falling into a brief silence before gently nudging Bulkhead with his shoulder, looking back at him.

"If I want to get Knock Out really riled up, I mean really riled up, I'll go driving with him after it rains. Knock Out likes to go driving after it rains cause there's less dust in the air and on the road. I think he gets too caught up in thinking about less dust that he forgets there's always mud everywhere. Then he gets so focused on not hitting the muddy puddles on his side of the road he forgets about me. I wait till I see just the right puddle." Breakdown snickered, tilted his head toward his shoulder tire. "Big tires, big tread, big splash."

Breakdown broke into a fit of laughter. "You should hear it. He squeals like a little femme every time!"

Bulkhead couldn't help but laugh as Breakdown continued on. "Oh, he gets mad. Stutters and everything. I know he wants to transform and yell at me but he can't because he doesn't want to spread the mud into his gears. So he has to stay in vehicle mode till we get back to the wash racks. Of course I play up being the big clumsy warrior who just wasn't paying attention to the road. 'Oh, I swear, Knock Out, I didn't see it. You know I would've swerved if I had seen it.'"

"And he believes you?"

Breakdown nodded. "Yes! And the best part is, I've done this to him at least half a dozen times now and he still hasn't figured out I'm doing it on purpose."

They laughed.

"It-it takes me half a day to crawl back into his good graces but it's so worth it!"

This...this was the Breakdown Bulkhead missed so much it hurt. His harmless humor, that good natured laughter, not so much as a hint of malice. This was the Breakdown he had welcomed into the Wreckers. Trained with, refueled with, had trusted. Had once called brother.

That Breakdown still existed. Some little part of him continued to linger, to live on, buried deep under the vicious, snarling, sadistic Decepticon he had become. He was still there.

That night he had saved Breakdown from M.E.C.H, he had caught the tiniest glimpse of the mech he had once known and it had sparked a glimmer of hope in him despite his earlier certainties that the Breakdown he had known was lost forever.

And now this.

He was reachable. Breakdown might be salvaged yet. Though encouraged, Bulkhead remained silent in his hopes. If he tried to grip too tightly, too quick, Breakdown might pull away forever. Bulkhead didn't want to loose what little ground he had somehow managed to gain in these two encounters.

Breakdown sighed softly in the now comfortable darkness. "So, what now?"

After staring start ahead for a few moments, Bulkhead turned to Breakdown. "I'll send a message to Arcee. You contact Knock Out. Between the two of them, they should be able to figure out how to get us out of here. Just...ask Knock Out not to attack. Please?"

Bulkhead held his breath. It almost felt like a test. Would Breakdown scoff at the request? Accept it? Deny it? Mock it? Or worse, instruct Knock Out to attack Arcee. He didn't want Arcee walking into an ambush.

But Breakdown nodded at him. "Ok. I will."

Hope was such a fragile thing...but Breakdown sounded like he meant it. Time would tell if he did.

They once again lapsed into silence. Each constructing their message, sending it, waiting for the response. And each knew when the other received a response by the cringe in their frame. First Bulkhead, then Breakdown.

Breakdown laughed quietly. "You in as much trouble as I am?"

Chuckling himself, Bulkhead nodded. "Oh yes. Very much so. Knock Out take it well?"

"As well as to be expected." The 'Con shook his head. "There's a very good chance I'll be recharging on the floor for the next week."

"Ouch."

"Naw. Knock Out never sees it through. He hates recharging alone. Half way through he'll 'graciously' forgive me, expect me to bend to his every whim, then things will go back to normal. And the femme? What'd she say to you?"

"Arcee. Her name's Arcee."

"Yeah."

It was disheartening that Breakdown, barring personal grudges, still refused to apply names. Most Decepticons never used actual names. It was Autobot, him, her, she, he, it. Dissociation made killing your enemy even easier. It was something Breakdown had started doing the day he turned.

"She's torqued. I'll be hearing it for days."

Breakdown snickered. "That femme's got fire in her lines. Pretty good in a fight, too. I can respect that."

Another stunning moment, Breakdown complimenting Arcee. It made the ache for a time long past that much worse.

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Regret?" He could feel Breakdown turn to look at him.

Bulkhead could have hit himself, he'd told himself to be silent on the issue and yet, true to his blundering form, here he was blurting out the question that had been eating at him for vorns simply because the opportunity was there. Stupid.

"The Autobots. You-" He felt Breakdown tense, shifting uneasily.

Frag.

He sighed, stopping for a moment to collect his thoughts. He'd already stumbled onto this field, no taking the words back and, slag, he wanted to know. "After all this time, after everything that's happened, do you ever regret leaving? Have you ever thought 'I wish I wouldn't have?'"

His question was met by silence. Breakdown didn't move for a long moment.

"What kinda answer you looking for, Bulk?"

Bulkhead shook his head. "Just an honest one."

Breakdown went silent. Minutes ticked away. Eventually Bulkhead started to give up on the hope of getting an answer. He was sure he'd pushed too hard, too quickly, and spoiled any opportunity of creating a common ground with a brother lost.

"No."

Cold despair seeped in as Bulkhead looked back, meeting Breakdown's yellow optic, not missing the faint grin that pulled gently at the other's mouth. "No, I don't regret leaving. I'd still choose Knock Out."

Bulkhead met his gaze and actually smiled gently back, his initial despair receding. Without knowing it Breakdown had revealed something very important to him.

Knock Out. Breakdown would choose Knock Out. Not the Decepticons, not Megatron, but Knock Out. An important distinction. Breakdown's dedication and true allegiance lay not with Megatron but with his lover. And while Knock Out had openly chosen to be a Decepticon, and had a very nasty sadistic side, sources had pointed out time and time again that Knock Out's true allegiance was to none but himself. He'd recently gone behind Megatron's back to make deals with Starscream. Knock Out used the Decepticons to provided himself with the things he desired; rank, status, luxuries.

Breakdown, for having pitched himself, body and spark, into the sick darkness of Megatron's régime, was still reachable.

"And you?"

The Autobot frowned. "What?"

A yellow optic caught his again. "Do you ever regret leaving the Wreckers to join Optimus?"

A question that might have been eating at Breakdown all these vorn? Bulkhead had loved the Wreckers. They had been family or the closest thing to it Bulkhead had while immersed in a war.

He had left the Wreckers shortly after Breakdown's desertion. He could not, would not, fight a brother on the battlefield. It had been too much at the time, the cut...too deep. Other Wreckers had fallen, the death toll ever rising, Wrecker groups breaking apart, and Breakdown's desertion had been an unexpected blow. The betrayal...it had seemed worse than if he had died in battle.

And so, he had left the Wreckers. Answering the call Optimus had sent out. Only vorns later would he meet a very changed Breakdown on the battlefield.

But did he regret his choices? Would he take back that first step that had lead him down the path he now traveled on? Leaving the Wreckers. Joining Optimus's crew. Fighting the good fight even as Autobot numbers dwindled, as Cybertron slowly died, watching it's lights flicker out. The long vorns navigating through space. Earth. Miko.

He smiled.

"No, I don't regret it. I would still leave the Wreckers." He looked back at Breakdown, relishing the moment of honesty that shone between them.

They sat, leaning against each other, back to back, shoulder to shoulder, helm resting gently against helm. Their comm lines buzzed every so often with an update from one or the other's partner; what they planned on doing, how stupid he was for letting himself be baited by Breakdown again, how rocks were scratching a freshly polished finish, how annoying the little two wheeler was.

But the pair under the rubble were silent, each wandering through his own memories of times gone by.

Neither indulged in the regrets of what could have been as neither felt regret for what was.

Author's notes:

I hope this makes sense. Sometimes my head cannon stuff makes WAY more sense to me than others. XD As to be expected! You'll be seeing more ex-Wrecker Breakdown stuff in the future.
Reading and reviewing is always greatly appreciated. Thanks!