Lets play Doctor

Transformers Prime
Ratchet and Knockout vs Databyte
...I think they lost...

Data belongs to a flashlight made of wood.

Written by
++++++++++++++++++++++
Ratchet groaned as he came back online. His processor was pounding, and his gyros were spinning at more angles than he would ever care to count.
"Wh-what," he started to say, "what happened . . . ?"
"Quiet, Autobot," another mech husked at his back.
Realizing he knew that voice, Ratchet's optics flickered on but rather than seeing whatever room he was locked in, he saw only the darkness behind a blindfold. Annoyance and fear registered together in his processor, and as he tried to pull away he met resistance and a hiss of pain from the Decepticon behind him.
"Stop moving," Knockout hissed and smacked the back of his head into Ratchet's shoulder plate, dissuading the medibot from moving any farther. "We're bound, you slagging scrapheap!"
Normally he would have chewed out the Decepticon for the unnecessary language, but given the situation he decided it best to let it slide.
"What happened?" Ratchet asked again, quieter this time and fully aware. "Why are we tied like this? And why in Primus' name am I blindfolded?"
Knockout rolled his optics behind the cover of his blindfold, about to honor the fragger with an actual answer when a sudden click split through the silence like a bullet. The laugh that followed filled the room with an icy chill which froze the energon in his veins. A quake of panic trembled through every circuit in his frame, and the fact he could not see his attacker only worsened the anxiety and apprehension flaring in his spark.
Slaggit!
Knockout tried scooting away, but the slagging Autobot wouldn't budge!
Ratchet pivoted his head to the source of the new noise, understandably fearful but nowhere near as familiar with his assailant as Knockout was. "Who is that? Who's there?" he demanded, completely unnerved by the surge of dread pulsing through his spark.
What neither could see was the wide spread of a chilling, fanged smile, the menacing gleam in violet eyes, and the eager flex of clawed servos. "Who wants to play doctor?"