TFP - Dinner DateMore Like This
WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT THAT SOME MAY FIND UPSETTING/DISTURBING.
Breakdown groaned quietly as his optic slowly opened, colours bleeding through the darkness. His helm hurt and he couldn’t piece together what happened before he fell into recharge… or was he drugged? He couldn’t remember.
He slowly tried to raise his helm, only for it to fall back down. He tried to ask out loud what had happened, but the only thing that came from his lips were garbled slurs.
The blue van made a tiny ‘hnn?’ noise as he heard that voice. It was familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger as to why. He tried to raise his head one more time, succeeding and his golden optic met black and red.
His vision gradually sharpened, the familiar red paintjob of the Decepticon medic forming into the vain mech. Breakdown realised that he was sitting at a table, Knock Out