Intermission 1
How You Remind Me
"Never made it as a wise me, never made it as a poor man stealing, tired of living as a blind man, I'm sick of seeing without a sense of feeling, and this is how you remind me, this is how you remind me of what I really am"
Earth is an interesting place to be. It's ever changing and rich in everything and beautiful and dangerous and full of creatures that were so like them and so smart but so very, very naive. Blind to their own destruction. It was almost sad when you thought about it.
Ironhide tried not to think.
There were a lot of things that he never wanted to think of and many of them had nothing to do with the war. He was a soldier and programmed to withstand such horrors. No, the things he locked away were far more personal. Ironhide was old for a reason, tougher than anything the universe had managed to throw at him but that didn't stop the regrets or help burry the secrets.
He didn't like the new femme. She reminded him too much of (blue armor, carefree smile, infectious laugh, bright optics through which a brighter spark shown) someone he'd much rather forget. She grew on him like cosmic rust, wheedling her way into his life, even if she didn't know it.
That was another thing he didn't like; she reminded him too much of himself with her ornery personality and perpetual bad attitude and love of sharp and dangerous things. Honestly, she could be a (following that blue armor was the only reason he found himself in Master Roadthread's forgery and the mech decided on the spot that he would be a-) Weapons Master. He wasn't sure if he could truly train her, put her through the whole apprenticeship and Tests. So, he avoided her as much as possible. Everyone assumed he was suspicious, but they were wrong.
Ironhide had never been stupid. Overly cautious, sure, but never stupid. That meant that he was very well aware of Lightningstrike's potential usefulness. It also meant that he was well aware that he was scared and his fear was making him avoid her. He was running from some tiny blue (not just any shade of blue, but his shade) femme because he was scared. Running was intolerable. So he resolved to face his problem. Later. Preferably after he had had some time for thought, had found some drinkable high grade on this miserable mud ball of a planet and gotten very overcharged on it.
As Dropkick used to say, Ironhide's coping methods weren't the healthiest. He thought of the last time the mech had said that to him, leaning tiredly against the door to his housing unit, blue armor glinting dully in the low light (he must have been sick even then because he never looked dull, ever) and tiredly amused at his (emotionally, psychologically and miraculously not physically for once) damaged sometimes-lover. Too much to bear and too much hurt and too much of his life spent tamping down his emotions made him not want to examine the memory too closely. That would only dig up more buried feelings and memories that Ironhide didn't want. What he wanted was to forget.
Ironhide rarely got what he wanted.
He wandered across Bumblebee first, the yellow youngling using the narrow, wind-blasted trees that grew on the island for target practice. He wasn't a sharpshooter by any means, but he was a spy and he was very good at conserving his shots. "You did well. Looks like my teaching wasn't completely wasted, scraplet," he bellowed.
Bee fired off another shot and felled another tree before dialing up his radio's volume, "The nicest man I ever met was more malicious than malcontent, he taught me..."
"I am neither malicious or malcontent," he said, crossing his bulky arms and moving closer.
When Bee turned around, Ironhide got the distinct impression that the little mech was smirking. "Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time," sang his radio. Hide vaguely recognized the singer's voice.
"I think I would know whether or not I'm lying about my own state of mind."
"But he fakes it anyway, he may not have a clue and he may not have style but everything he lacks, well, he makes up for in denial," and Ironhide realized why he knew that voice. Pretty Fly for a White Guy was something his pseudo-son played pretty often around Sam (which was almost all the time) and the voice was imprinted in his processor. "When you walk away, nothing more to say, see the lightning in your eyes."
"What does Lightningstrike have to do with any of this?" Ironhide said and the second he did, he knew he'd made a mistake. He could feel that smirk again and knew he was screwed.
"How long will you hide your face, are you afraid?"
Scratch that. Hide was torqued. "I'm not afraid of some little femme that's half my height and mass." At least, that was what he told himself.
Bumblebee shook his helm slightly and there was wistfulness in his EM field like he was smiling slightly. "Maybe not physically," he said in his rusty, half-healed voice, "but you know that she could chew you up and spit you out and-" the mech broke off in a painful sounding cough before he shook his head. A song picked up his sentence, "that terrified you, you swore that you'd never loose your control."
"I don't- I'm not sure you're wrong, mechling. But I won't ever say you're right."
It was the closest to admitting defeat he would ever get. Dropkick had been an aft, but he was always right about Ironhide. He was offline now, blue armor long turned gray, but Hide could almost feel the fragger laughing at him from the Well, egging him on. That's my mech, he'd say, scared of his own spark. What am I going to do with you?
Simple, Ironhide always replied, nothing. This is my fight.
But then, his spark wasn't the enemy. He was.
0o0
Songs Used: Capital M.E. by Taking Back Sunday, Gonna Go Far Kid by the Offspring, Pretty Fly (For a White Guy) by the Offspring, Let it Burn by RED and Run for Your Life by the Fray
