"Thriving. That's fighting . . . Surviving is barely getting by."

~Jillian Michaels

>>·<<

June did not try to kid herself the first night she spent on Cybertron's surface. Even though each member of Team Prime offered she stay in their hab-suites, there was only one mech Ripclaw would allow for her to cohabitate with in peace. Megatronus was, at first, insistent she take the recharge table until the femme switched to her beast mode and curled up on his living room floor, shamelessly tucking her snout against her tail and offlining her optics.

Though he was a little off-put by the display and a bit wary of the fact that there was a Predacon at his front door, Megatronus was also relieved by that as well. Yes, he would be extraordinarily ticked if any 'bot tried to harm June to get to him, but the femme was resilient and not so easily put down. And if she was hurt, well, then he had every excuse to lay waste to the one who crossed him.

For obvious reasons, June did not share the details of her cohabitation with Jack. Though they had left with a hug - and kiss on the cheek from her - goodbye, it was bittersweet. He was still angry that she had seemingly chose Megatronus over him, despite insisting that he look at the "facts." Yes, a Predacon would not bode well on Earth, as she would never be able to leave the base due to an improper disguise, but if she had truly wanted it she could have coped. But, for once, June decided to be selfish.

It ate at her spark day in and day out, however they messaged each other regularly, and that put her at ease. Over time, Jack would settle down, perhaps even come back, and then they could live a semi-normal life together again.

During the first few weeks on Cybertron June was content to explore the planet herself. Knock Out assisted with the removal of her Predacon emblems to keep curious optics - and dangerous ones - from watching her, and the medic even did slight cosmetic alterations to make her appearance less "beastly." To anybot that did not know any better, or looked too hard, they could not tell her body hailed from ancient history.

As a self-proclaimed neutral she could easily travel from sector to sector without too much hassle from Autobot and Decepticon Cybertronians alike, finding it was rather easy to make friends from both sides than she imagined. Only once was she mistaken for a naive, ignorant neutral.

"Cowards, the whole lot of them," a mech snarled to his companion, the pair leaning against the wall outside of what looked suspiciously like a bar. He held a small cube of energon - Wheeljack had told her it was Engex, similar to alcohol - in his servo, though by the looks of it the mech had already drank more than enough. "While we fought in the war, died for our freedom, they scattered like turbofoxes and sought refuge amongst the stars! And now they come back, as if they are welcome here?"

His companion scoffed. "We 'ought to kick 'em off to the colony worlds," he agreed. "Can't live here if they didn't try to die here."

June made an attempt to brush by them, not at all surprised when her frame caught their attention. Her size - which was particularly unusual for a femme - and build was a dead giveaway that she was not a typical Cybertronian. Even after a few weeks it did not take long for her to notice the subtle differences of a mech and femme, "Cybertronian" and someone from a colony world such as Velocitron. She stood out because she was none of those things; walking like a human in a frame from eons past. It was subtle, and hardly anyone gave her a second glance.

"Hey!"

She stopped right as a glob of engex landed in front of her pedes, pausing and glancing at the mechs that called for her attention. Blue optics hued with green spun and clicked as they focused, her expression not amused. Something told her they were not catcalling, but still asking for plenty of trouble.

"Think you can come around here and act like you helped build this?" The first mech gestured around with his engex, moving off of the wall. "I see you, neutral. Walking like you have any business earning a hero's welcome."

He spat again, his dialect slurred. June could understand him perfectly, having downloaded all common forms of Cybertronian before daring to venture out onto this planet. Scanning him up and down, she decided he was not a threat.

"If you're done, I'd like to keep going," she replied, her odd inflection instantly betraying the foreigness of the language on her glossa. It only made the mech dislike her more, glowering.

"Not yet," he snarled. "I've had it up to here with your kind, swaggering through the streets of my city as if you deserve any part of this new world! I had comrades die on the battlefield, sparks that I will never see again! And yet you have the audacity to act as if it was for nothing. You neutrals are nothing but useles fodder, and it's about time we put you in your place!"

The punch was predictable, and June had plenty of experience with drunk or otherwise tanked patients to know exactly what to expect. Though the mech was shorter by about a foot he was a bit bulkier, probably weighing about the same. He clearly had more muscle, but June had the strength of a literal dragon within her.

She caught the fist effortlessly, shoving him back and watching him stumble into the wall. Her frame flushed as the commotion caused a noticeable silence on the street, energon rushing to her digits and cheeks in embarrassment.

"You know, it is rather rude to hit a femme in some cultures," a voice drawled.

Surprised, June turned to see Knock Out casually striding over. If Cybertronian's had pockets his servos would have been in them, slinking over like a lazy cat.

"Is he bothering you? Blackout can be such a brute," the Decepticon medic waved a servo. "It would be best if you left her alone."

"I thought you of all mechs would have something against the neutrals," Blackout stood himself up, snapping, "considering you and your conjunx endura fought in the war together, instead of slipping off-world to be a safe happy family. I noticed you came home without him - another casualty of war?"

"Him?" June raised an optic ridge, looking toward Knock Out.

The medic's face had slipped from its usual smirk to a cold, hard glare. "I would chose your next words very carefully," he warned, switching to the Decepticon dialect effortlessly, the extra growls and flares of static causing chills to creep across June's frame, "because despite my reputation, I am very much capable of performing surgery in even the dirtiest of places; such as this street, for instance."

Blackout laughed, the sound violent and harsh. "Come on, let's see if you're good at anything other than being slow."

"Knock Out!" June lunged just as he did, grabbing the snarling Decepticon and hauling him back before he could give Blackout an excuse to send him to the ground. "He isn't worth it, and he's drunk. Just walk away."

"Let me go!" He clawed at her arms. "Drunk or not, he is mine!"

June tried to keep him under control while Blackout roared with laughter in the background, the Predacon femme growling and becoming even more embarassed as he made a scene. A small part of her whispered to just let him go and get the beating he was surely going to get, but something quickly changed her mind.

"Look at that, the neutral doing what she does best: walking away," Blackout mocked. "Not gonna fight me, and not gonna let anyone else fight. Peace-keeping deserter."

Something finally snapped. June was not sure what it was; if it was the final words, the fact that she realized Knock Out was fighting a broken spark, or if was the smell of the engex that made her tanks roll and anger shoot up her energon lines. The nurse had always considered herself a calm and collected individual; the closest she had come to lashing out was when Jack had - unsuccessfully - tried out for the football team, only to get smacked and pushed around by Vince. He had gone into the field beaming, excited to make his mother proud, only to come out with tears in his eyes and cuts on his arms and legs. He had adamantly stated that he hated football, but June always saw when he would pretend to play in their backyard, clutching a ball and commentating to himself. She had wanted to teach Vince and his bullies a lesson.

It happened so fast she did not realize what had happened until it was finished. Shoving Knock Out aside she whirled with amazing speed, her fist colliding with Blackout's faceplates and sending him flying into his jeering companion. With a horrendous clap of metal-on-metal the pair toppled to the ground, June gritting her denta.

"Let's go," she snapped to Knock Out, angry at them and herself, gripping the medic and dragging him away.

"If you were gonna do that, you should have let me at them!" He whined, stumbling to keep up with her long strides. "And watch your grip! This paint isn't exactly cheap!"

Letting him go the femme took a long ex-vent. "Sorry," it was hardly genuine, "I just reacted without thinking. Next time I'll let you scuff your paintjob over a pair of drunks."

Knock Out brushed imaginary dust off of his arm plating, huffing. "As if you would understand," he muttered, matching her long strides with ease, having had plenty of practice due to being on the smaller end of the Cybertronian spectrum.

His conjunx endura, June had read about those when learning a bit more about the customs and relationships of the Cybertronian race. Family units were very similar to that of human's, though unsurprisingly with different names. And fairly gender-neutral, much to her surprise. Team Prime had never mentioned the fact that any of the Decepticons had a significant other, or family, but she supposed the topic never came up.

"You would be surprised," she looked down at him, noticing the usually chirpy or suave Decepticon was glaring at the space in front of him, his plating bristled and EM field pulsing irregularly. "I had to raise Jack by myself after . . . his father - sire - was . . . gone."

"But did he die?" Knock Out snapped.

"Yes," she said flatly, not bothering to mask the deep wave of sorrow in her EM field, noticing Knock Out's fluctuate in surprise. "He did. And I think about that every day."

The pair walked the street in silence for a long time, weaving through Cybertronians and allowing the city life to wash over them. June did not really absorb anything, lost in her own thoughts.

"Was he killed? Or was it natural?" The medic prompted.

"I would consider it both," June answered, her tone indicating this was a subject they were only allowed to spend a limited time on. "Cancer killed him. It's a human disease." Her optics fluttered over to him, warning him that the question was coming before she vocalized it. "Who was your conjunx? How did sh - he die?"

Knock Out allowed a mask of indifference to settle over his frame. "You never did meet him, but I am fairly certain at least one of you humans encountered him during your little jaunts. His designation was Breakdown - my medical assistant." He waved a servo. "He never was good at speed, in fact he was hardly considered a Velocitronian for most of his beginning years. Too slow. But did he have an optic for detail. I hired him as a part of my cosmetic clinic when I saw what he could do. The brute eventually grew on me - and we had been inseparable ever since. Key word being had. I do miss the way he made my finish shine."

The praise and awe in his voice was obvious, June smiling just a little in sadness. He tried to be indifferent, as something like romance was most certainly frowned upon by the Decepticons - but she could see it, plain as day.

"I guess we both have something in common," she suggested, "aside from medical expertise, that is."

"Who would have thought," the medic's ego returned, his faceplates upturned in a snarky grin. "A fleshling and a Velocitronian, having correspondance."

June chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in her chest. Indeed. Who could have known?