Hidden Stars in a Polluted Sky

By Any Unborn Child

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Hmph," Ironhide muttered.

Jazz looked over to the other Autobot. The two had been chilling and playing music for most of the day – to be fair, he had been playing music; Ironhide had been slumped over, sulking away. This had never happened back on Earth or on Cybertron for that matter. Ever since Ironhide arrived at the afterlife earlier that day, he had been very, well, not himself. There was an energy that was just gone, disappeared to the stars. Ironhide's grumble had been the first thing Jazz had heard from him other than the bittersweet hellos they had greeted each other with, and of how he got there.

"You still thinking about everyone else back on Earth?" Jazz asked as his metallic eyebrows rose upwards, a glint of curiosity in his optics.

"What do you think?" Ironhide replied, an edge to his vocal processor now present.

Jazz had to chuckle heartily at that. Now this was the Ironhide that he remembered - he said what he meant, and he meant what he said. So he hadn't changed.

"I wouldn't worry too much about 'em, Ironhide. They'll be fine." Jazz remarked, aware of the other Autobot's moody disposition. He could tell by the way Ironhide was slumped over, his optics narrowed and shining with frustration, that there was a lot going on in his mind. Jazz knew that there was not much, if anything, they could do for their friends back on Earth. They had been through a lot. They had fought many battles, with the bastards called Decepticons, and internal battles as well.

And then suddenly – gone.

The actual death hurt much less than Jazz had thought it would. The pain was pretty damn awful; there was no going around that. Worse yet, being killed by Megatron, and being snapped in two, was just terrible.

Despite that, as quickly as it happened, the pain had disappeared. It had floated away, like it had only been a mesh wound. Jazz was then whisked off into the great beyond for Cybertronian beings. Somehow, he ended up there, amongst the great Cybertronian warriors from so long ago, amongst those who had risked their sparks to defend their home from the evil and corruptive forces lurking. This afterlife that Ironhide and Jazz had been transported into was a peaceful one, free from the constant strain of Energon depletion and the tiring affects of war. There were none others they had recognized here, at least, not yet.

There was not much either of them could do now.

"You really think they'll be all right, Jazz?" Ironhide asked the musically-inclined Autobot.

Jazz turned to him, surprised at the response. He switched off the radio as he listened to Ironhide.

The weapons specialist continued. "I don't know about you, but I feel useless here. We're safe up here. The others – Optimus, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Mirage, Sideswipe – they're still fighting down there, back on that rock, and I can't do shit up here. We can't do shit." Ironhide huffed, gritting his dentals. "And they're up against that bastard Sentinel, and Megatron! …I should be doing more, but I'm not. Fucking sucks."

Jazz thought for a moment, trying to think of the right words. Then, as quick as a flash, they hit him.

"Ironhide - let me tell you something. I didn't expect to die so suddenly. And seeing you here almost killed me all over again."

Surprised, Ironhide raised his head at this. Jazz continued, now looking directly into Ironhide's optics with a fierce determination, for himself and for his friend. "But there is something we can do up here, something you can do, dawg. We can have hope for them. We've got to. You gotta keep that in your mind, and in your spark. You got that?"

Ironhide, frustrated, furrowed his eyebrows once more, turned away, and said nothing.

Almost immediately, Jazz went back to his music, turning up the volume slightly as he tried to let the repetitive beats and pulses drown out his thoughts, and hopefully Ironhide's too.

Once again they sat in silence. It was thick with tension and unspoken words, as well as the weight of the spoken ones, and populated the air above the two Autobots.

Then, after a long while of this, Ironhide said over the music, "Yeah…I got it."

Hearing this, Jazz smiled slightly. "Cool."

They just might make it here after all.

Now all they had to do was to wait.

Now all they had to do was to have hope in their friends.

Cheesy as the notion was, they just had to.