Ok first time I've posted a fan fic so if there are many mistakes please point them out since this hasn't been betaed.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never was never will be... wish it was though ;P
Warnings: None, aside from some fluff, RoTF mentions of events.
Notes: The original prompt by rashadniat the LJ TF Bunny Farm: The reason Optimus lets Ironhide of with so much is because Ironhide is secretly his dad.
(twisted this a bit so it was Ironhide who raised orphaned Optimus to kinda stick with what's been set up with RoTF)
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Speech:
Blah – Normal
::Blah:: - Comm link
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Ironhide couldn't help it, couldn't hold back anymore.
It was an agreement long in place that this degree of closeness and displays of affection, were to be kept discrete and most importantly, private. Right now, he couldn't give a flying slag who saw them.
He sat with his broad back to the bulk head of the mostly empty hold of the large warship, sturdy legs stretched out in front of him. Thick blunt fingers trace over the damaged face, helm and shoulders of the mech lying next to him, helm resting in his lap. Fingers slowly work their way to loosely rest upon still healing gouges and dents in the wide chest. Idly Ironhide takes in all the damage wrought upon the other and finds himself, not for the first time, thanking the boy, the Prime's and what ever other divine force saw fit to allow him this privilege again. This welcome feeling of warm metal under his fingers, slight buzz of the intimately familiar energy field against his and most importantly the steady thrum of that strong spark nestled deep within the layers of amour. A memory flits unbidden through his processor of this same mech lying motionless, chest armor torn and blackened, plating rapidly growing cold under his touch. He barely suppresses the icy shiver that courses through his neural net at the memory.
The other stirs. Optic shutters flick open, alighting with their familiar expressive blue glow. He can't help but allow a small smile to creep onto his face plate, when those optics swivel sideways to focus on him.
"Welcome back to the world of the online Prime."
Optimus Prime simply stares up at him for a moment, before pushing himself up onto his elbow with a small grunt. With a little assistance from Ironhide, he rights himself sitting back against the ships bulk head. His optics flicker shut for a moment as his head drops back, Ironhide continually watching with sharp optics. With a long hard shunt of air through his vents he finally asks.
"How long was I-"
"4.36 earth hours. No where near long enough."
Optimus' optics snap open, head quickly turning to spot Ratchet working only a few meters away. With his back still to the Prime and Ironhide, Ratchet finishes the last solders in Jolts arm.
:: Before you ask the boy – Sam - is with his parents and the girl, Mikaela, in the mess hall 6 levels above us. They are fine and healing as well as expected. The boy hasn't reported any more signs of the symbols thus far. ::
Noticing Jolt, yet again, staring at them, Ironhide's optics narrow. A deep throaty growl issues from the old black bot, causing the younger to quickly shy away. Optimus gives the other a sidelong glance but nothing is said.
:: It's good to have you back with us Prime. We couldn't function without you. ::
:: Thank you, Jolt. It is good to be back. ::
"You're done. Get your aft up to the flight deck for a few hours of solar recharge."
As soon as the dark blue bot was out of sight, Ratchet rounded on Optimus and Ironhide, optics brightening with a determined glint. The distinct prickle of multiple scans sweeping his systems wrings a slightly startled jolt from Optimus, his systems still sluggish. Ironhide shoots a heated glare at Ratchet for the intrusion, receiving an equally heated glare in response.
There is some strange relief in this familiar display after almost a day of the others, as humans say, tip toeing, around Prime. It was clear mech's such as Bumblebee and the twins wanted to spend as much time as possible with their leader to reassure themselves he was alright and was staying with them. Even Sam had been reluctant to stray far from the red and blue bot. Numerous times he spotted the boys gaze flicking over him, until he assured him he was fine and encouraged he boy to go to his family. He was loath to deprive the boy of time with his parents after such a traumatic experience.
After the initial happy commotion over their Prime's return and the success of the battle against the Fallen, Ratchet had ordered that the Prime be left in peace to rest. Ironhide being the only exception he would allow.
Watching the two with their familiar battle of wills, the Prime's mind wanders, optics briefly settling despondently on the pile of metal plates, parts and cables covered with tarps. Parts that were once a mech who sacrificed his very life for someone he didn't even know. Although thankful, he was also pained by the fact he would never truly know the ancient mech.
His brief merge with Jetfire and subsequent power surge had gotten him through the battle but his body was quick to reject the foreign parts once the immediate danger had passed. All the power forced into him was consumed by his self repair systems to stabilize his spark chamber and surrounding armor, leaving him feeling almost as drained as the moment he awoke.
The battle itself was still a muddled, semi-coherent mix of sounds, images, emotions and blunt sensations rattling through his processor. The one thing the ancient mech had said to him, that he would have power he had never known before, still sat at the forefront of his mind. Those words making acutely aware that, although the power Jetfire had given him in his sacrifice was gone, it had triggered something. Even now he could feel it quietly lurking somewhere in his systems just out of his reach. Coming back to himself he could feel the two's energy fields rolling and flaring as they continued their silent war.
Long, blunt fingers rub between his optics and nasal plating, the persistent processor ache since his resurrection, starting to worsen.
"If you two hatchlings are quiet done…"
Ratchet's glare quickly flicks to Optimus, scans again flicking through his systems without prior request for permission. Normally the behavior would be considered rude and highly offensive, but all those who worked with Ratchet knew this was just how the mech operated. Always blunt and to the point. Seemingly satisfied Ratchet sits back, eyeing the two mech's with critical optics. Settling on Optimus the mech stabs a finger at him, despite Ironhide's renewed grumblings.
"You need to recharge for at least another 10 hours, no interruptions. Your systems are still healing, your spark has settled more, but those welds need more time to set properly-"
"It's fine Ratchet. I got him. I'll make sure he recharges."
With a loud huff Ratchet turns to glower at the dark mech with no small amount of malice for the interruption.
:: You know better than anyone I'm good for it Ratch. I'll monitor him and notify you of any changes. ::
An overly dramatic shunt of air issues from the bright green mech's vents their equivalent of a sigh. Passing one last scan over the two he stalks off to the large lifts to the top flight deck intent on checking the others and keeping them inline. Finally alone Ironhide turns his attention back to Optimus, to find the mech giving him a mildly irritated glare.
"Don't ya be giving me that look younglin'. All the time you been down, the Hatchet has been throwin' his weight around somethin' shockin'. He think's he's runnin' things."
"Technically with both of us in less than our best condition he does hold the next highest rank."
"Ha! That surly old rust bucket is pushin' it if ya ask me."
Reaching out he easily slides his arm behind the broad expanse of the others shoulders. He gently tugs the unresisting mech back down to the position he had occupied earlier, stretched out on his side to take pressure of his back and chest, long powerful legs slightly curled. Some shifting ensued before Optimus finally settles. Ironhide resuming his idle petting, hand lazily running over the other's helm, barely touching the markings on a check flange.
"Hmm...It has been a very long time since I've been a youngling 'Hide."
Optimus grumbled lightly, though there was no heat in the tone, only telling exhaustion. Shunting a sigh of heating air through his vents, Ironhide stares away at nothing as his mind slowly winds down. Images bounce through his CPU unbidden, reminding him of quieter, more peaceful times when moments like this weren't so fleeting.
"Ya always gonna be my younglin', Prime. I found ya, raised ya and all..."
Ironhide can't help but softly run the tip of a finger over the marked carving in the mech's audial.
"A Prime… a true Prime… Always knew there was somethin' about ya. And I-we nearly lost ya for good. Don't think I've ever been so fragging scared my entire life. Seen ya badly damaged before, but this… Without you we almost gave up. Ratchet wanted to leave… Leave Earth all together. With out a Prime the others -"
The others energy field abruptly shifts and changes from the calm to irritated, immediately catching Ironhide's attention. Glancing down he sees the other staring up at him, those expressive glowing optics narrowed, causing him to pause in his ministrations. After so many years he could see the irritation and pleading in those optics before the words were spoken.
"'Hide, please. I've already been informed of everything. For now can we please just forget about that? … I let you get away with a fair amount, so can I just please be a little selfish now and have these few days just you and me as it once was? No war, no title…"
He understood what Optimus was asking. He devoted so much all of his life to his troops now he rarely had time to himself anymore. He was so driven to watch over his people he sometimes became to wound up and stubborn to step back and let someone else run things for a bit. Even now he could see Optimus was fighting his need to recharge, something he did more often than Ironhide and several others were comfortable with. Actually allowing others to take over and asking for a moment as an ordinary mech was telling. With a snorting laugh Ironhide pulled the other a little closer, settling himself in for a few quiet hours.
"Ha, it ain't selfish and ya don't need to ask Optimus ya know that. Ya have always been too concerned about others even when ya were a younglin'. Come on now. Recharge or the Hatchet with have both our afts."
Finally giving in, he watched the other quickly power down and slip back into well needed recharge. He was insanely proud of the mech he had raised, with all his great accomplishments. He wanted to tell the world of what he shared with the Prime and his pride of what his mech had become, but for safety sake, he never spoke of it.
For many vorns after Optimus' became head of the Cybertronian science and exploration division, working under Megatron, their contact had been limited. Working on opposite sides of the planet and having vastly different professions didn't help matters. Once the war began in earnest, he heard about Megatron's attempt to capture Optimus'. Seeing the damage his young mech had wrought on Starscream had brought Ironhide great amusement and pride, but also acute awareness of the danger he was in. He allowed himself to be captured and brought to the hidden Autobot command bunker. Through private agreement, Ironhide would become their weapons specialist and train the mech's gathering under Optimus, now Optimus Prime's, command and set himself as Optimus' bodyguard. The agreement allowed Ironhide to stay close to not only act as the Prime's body guard, but also his confidant and sounding board. Part of the agreement also included that outside of a show of friendship, any affection or more than comradely level closeness was to be strictly kept private. Due to this he developed other ways to show his pride as a 'parent'. Most poignant is his unwavering loyalty. In return Optimus quietly let him get away with more than most mechs within the ranks, including indulging his little weapons and cannon fetish to a reasonable level. To all those around them, Autobots and the humans of NEST they are superior and subordinate. Commander and weapons specialist, and very close long term friends.
More recent, painful memories creep to the surface again. Seeing the body of the mech he had raised from a fragile hatching, unceremoniously dropped into the tarmac like useless scrap had taken every last scrap of will power he had to keep his resolve. He'd wanted to snap, scream and rage, crush that pathetic little carbon based insect into the ground for his disrespect. He wanted fire his canons until they over heated and burned. He wanted to find Megatron, the mech his youngling had once been so close to they called each other brother, and tear him apart piece by vital piece. He knew Optimus' wouldn't have wanted that then, or even now.
Shaking his head, he forced himself to stop dwelling on those horrid memories. Optimus' was right here with him, intact and alive. Megatron had successfully been driven off with damage that undoubtedly would take some time to heal. Ironhide knew full well I would not be tomorrow but it would happen again soon. The attacks were going to start again. That mech would give up that easily. He was completely insane and never knew when to stop anymore. They were the potentially the last of their species and their home was now undoubtedly dead husk. Even so, he knew Megatron wouldn't stop.
:: Stop it 'Hide. I know what you are thinking about, I can feel it. We can deal with all that once we are back at NEST headquarters. ::
Startled Ironhide looked down to see dull blue optics watching him. With slight embarrassment he realizes he's been projecting through his energy fields more strongly than he had realized. An amused snort leaves the dark mech as he gently taps a large finger against the crest of the blue helm.
:: You are supposed to be recharging, not checkin' my fields. Don't make me call the Hatchet down here. ::
The other stared at him a few seconds longer, field radiating mild irritation before morphing into exacerbated resignation, those optics powered back down again protective shutters dropping. With a small shift and creaking of old parts Ironhide settled back, hand resting over Optimus' strongly thrumming spark.
Sensors train on the red and blue mech, subroutines cataloging and prioritizing the information received as his mind wanders again. This time, the wandering is more directed with a purpose. Memory files are triggered and opened in succession of much better quieter times when war and factions were unheard of. Face plates twitch into a small smile as images of a certain mech roll to the forefront, so young patches of nutrient gel still drying on his dull blue grey plating. Long thin legs supported the delicate, shaking frame barely taller than the average human. Golden optics, that would one day change to that familiar hardened blue, staring up at him with wide curiosity and innocence. Settling into those memories and savoring the warmth and feel of the others spark and energy field he allows himself to drop into a light recharge, relaxed and content for the first time in many, many vorns.
END
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And there you have it.... terrible I know *hides*
I am planning on writing more on this. Have some ideas and points written down just a matter of actually writing it.