Transformers © Hasbro
Atlantic © Thrice – Not mine, though it was the inspiration for this story!
A/N – For the premise of the story, let's all imagine that when Ironhide died, that his body stayed intact. That's pretty much the only way this will make sense. Now that I'm done wasting your time – on with the story!
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But things can't be as they seem, I'm so far from home.
This must be another dream, but my eyes are open, and
Everything still moves in slow motion. Breathless and blue,
And behind your eyes; the sea, oceans of light envelop me
Ratchet steeled himself as he gently lifted the sheet off of Ironhide's body. No matter how matter how many times he's had to prepare a body for burial, it never got easy. And this time, it was his closest friend he was getting ready to bury. He studied the wounds, and with a sad sigh, turned to get the tools necessary for repairing them and began working.
"You know, even when you're gone, you're still a pain in my aft." He muttered as he welded, soldiered, and sealed the various wounds. He set the tools down and shuttered his optics. "Primus, 'Hide, we miss you. All of us are taking it hard – it's not just me. Optimus, Bee, Sideswipe, all of us. Major Lennox has been here as well. He's barely left your side." Ratchet gave Ironhide a sad smile before lifting his tools again. He carried on the one-sided conversation.
"I'm sure you know, but Qeue joined you in the Well of Allsparks not long after you left." Ratchet can't bring himself to say 'died'. Not yet. "Major Lennox is planning to have a memorial service. Nothing fancy, but something for the humans to commemorate your passing."
Once Ratchet was done, he stood back and studied his work. "I only wish I could heal my spark the way I'm able to heal everyone else." He said softly. "I hurt, Ironhide, and I don't know how to fix it. I can put on a brave faceplate, and be there for the others, but I need someone to lean on as well. You were the one I could lean on, and you're gone." As he spoke, coolant tears coursed down his face, unnoticed.
Despite how many times Ratchet wished Ironhide's optics would turn on, and focus on him, they stayed dark, the spark of life that used to be so vibrant gone. His tears popped against Ironhide's hand, and slid down the cool metal. He glanced up and found Sideswipe standing in the doorway, optics dark.
"Sideswipe?"
Sideswipe nodded once, and swiped at the tears running down his own faceplates. "I know I'm not 'Hide, but if you need someone to talk to, you can come to me." He said quietly. With that, he turned and left the medbay, giving the medic space and time to grieve.
Ratchet gave a small smile to the form laid out on the berth. "Will wonders never cease." He said softly. He ran his hand over the still faceplates and gently shuttered Ironhide's optics. He was grateful that the horror of his passing didn't show on his faceplates. He then lifted the sheet, and carefully smoothed it over Ironhide's body, before going to the door and flicking the lights off. He glanced back one last time.
"Rest well, old friend. Until all are one."
And my eyes are open, and everything still moves in slow motion,
Breathless and blue, and behind your eyes; the sea,
Oceans of light envelop me.