It would only take one, Knock Out thinks. And while she might get something innocuous -- a snippet of daily life aboard the Nemesis, some random space world on a routine mission, a drive-in movie that he'd particularly liked -- she could just as easily see something heinous. The experimentations in Shockwave's labs. The grisly aftermath of a pink alchemy attempt. Silas, in his medbay, cut apart and screaming.

Knock Out can live with those memories. He views them through a particular sort of indifferent lens that only comes from existing with them for so long, and an inherent selfishness that protects his own interests at the expense of others. For the most part, he never gives them a second thought. It's not like he's ashamed of them.

But the idea of Rogue knowing, and the possibility of seeing that unconditional trust in she looks at him with turn to fear or revulsion, sets his spark clenching nonetheless. Not shame, but dread. What if she wanted nothing to do with him once she knew what he was really like? It's not like he'd blame her for it.

"You can't know that."