Based post-TFTM. A very short little bit of fluffy reminiscing from crazy old war horse Kup. I tend to figure him and Ironhide could've been good friends once upon a time. So here's Kup, ranting on about Ironhide. Sort of sad, WAFFy ending. Poor oldtimer.
This is extremely short and pointless... so bear with me. I wrote it 'cause I like Kup.
-/"There is no friend like an old friend who has shared our morning days, no greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise." --Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr./-
-Within A Morning Star-
Rusty bucket of scrap.
That's what I used to call you, wasn't it? Back in the early days of this dagblasted war. Back when things were simpler.
Those were the days, weren't they? We were all gung-ho, you'n me, tryin' ta help Prime learn what there was t'learn about his new station. Training those damned kids.
Damn, I miss those days.
Chasin' stars, those kids were. We tempered 'em pretty well. I remember how nervous some'a those kids were when they showed up, civilians and merchants... and we thought we were doomed. Well, you did. I saw potential in those kids, and you called me crazy. Puh. Now who's the crazy one?
...Well, I guess it has t'be me, since I'm talkin' to stars and old memories. But you were nuts too, and you knew it, too.
I remember bein' guards back before the fighting started... exploring other worlds, fighting in wars that weren't even ours to fight. And humans thought they did some stupid things. Cybertronians were just as guilty of it.
Even back then, we were old. Codgers before our time, we were.
You know, you always told me that kid'd be trouble. Hot Rod. You remember 'im, right? Yeah, I'm sure you do.
Did he ever prove you wrong. That kid really rose above... beat the odds. I always new he had potential. You thought I had a gear loose, I know, but that don't make ya right.
It's getting late, but I don't really care right now. Celebratin' and all inside, but I don't feel like joinin' in, and I know I'm not the only one. There's just some things y'can't make right by celebration.
I kept my head high the whole time we were fightin' for our lives out there, but now that it comes right down to it...
Hell, I feel like refried slag, to be honest.
Nothin' in the world quite like sittin' and waiting and starin' and wonderin' and then findin' out your oldest friend bit it.
You damned idiot, Ironhide. I always told you to be more careful. You never did listen, even when we were young ourselves.
Last thing back on Cybertron, I told you you still owed me a thing'a oil. A drink at the local pub for all the trouble you caused me.
Kinda wish I coulda just done the smart thing and told you g'bye, I'd be seeing you... somethin' a real friend woulda done. No, shoulda done. But the past is built on would haves and could haves, and Spike just tells me "hindsight is 20/20"... whatever that means.
So for right now, I'm just sittin' outside, talkin' to the stars and old memories, kinda wishin' you'd made it through so I'd have someone to chew the fat with. Well, not so much kinda. Really.
I haven't even touched the energon Arcee brought out for me... she's a good girl, that Arcee. I should tell Hot Rod that sometime. Or Rodimus. Gotta start showin' him some respect now, since he's a Prime elect.
They're all worried about me, sittin' out here, talkin' to nothing. Talkin' to someone who probably can't hear me anyway. And if you could hear me, you'd be yellin' at me for bein' such a sentimental idiot.
I kinda wonder, though, if you'd be doin' the same thing if it'd been me those bastards shot up in the shuttle. Eh... no use worryin' about it. I can't change the past, right?
Here's to you, Ironhide.
You may've been a damnable old fool with more loose screws than a toolbox... but you were the best soldier I ever knew.
...and the best friend I ever had.
-End-
