IV.
Ironhide was proving to be a little less tedious, but just as predictable. Good thing he'd warmed up running a friendly-up on the cyclebot. This one was going to require a bit more handling.
Starting with physical. He'd had the repair bots disconnect voluntary motor control of the Autobot's limbs. Not permanently. Barricade wanted to have something to offer as a reward. But right now, if Ironhide had the use of his limbs, he'd be tearing the place apart. As it was, he'd already managed to flip himself out of the repair cradle and crush one of the spindly little bots. Barricade had retreated to the corner, folding his arms over his chest. "Done yet?" he asked, as the Autobot flopped on the floor, trying to damage anything he could with his bodyweight.
"Get over here and I'll let you know," Ironhide snarled.
Barricade laughed, a good pride/ego down. "And why should I do that?"
"So I can shove that smirk so far down your throat it'll block your exhaust."
"Hmmm. Sounds tempting, really. Think I'll pass, though." Barricade squatted down so he was closer to Ironhide's level. "I take it," he said, dripping with fake sympathy, "you're unhappy."
"Unhappy!" The Autobot flailed on the ground, his limp limbs bouncing wildly off the floor. He looked ready to bite Barricade's shinplates if he could get to them. This, Barricade thought, might be easier than I expected. This one's halfway over the edge already.
"Too strong a word?" Being deliberately obtuse. If the Autobot wanted to be angry, Barricade would gladly help.
Ironhide sputtered in rage. Barricade filed this as useful information. Ironhide did not deal well with frustration. Time to switch tactics. If he was going to hard break Ironhide, it would have to be spectacular. And now wasn't spectacular enough. Sure, there might be some cachet in breaking Ironhide fast, but Barricade took pride in his technique. Speed often compromised thoroughness. If, when he broke the Autobot, he intended him to stay broken.
"I hear you put up a hell of a fight." Little pride up this time.
"You heard wrong," the Autobot sneered. Barricade frowned. Maybe he shouldn't have blown off Blackout and Starscream's offer. "One of your morons clobbered me from behind. Like a slaggin' coward."
Switch to ego down. "That must be embarrassing for a warrior like you. To be taken like that."
Ironhide glared at him, but didn't disagree. This one was easy to figure—liked his reputation as a badass.
"You weren't the only capture, you know." Calculated risk to play this hand this early. But Barricade had a hunch, and they'd always paid off in the past.
"Who? Who else did you bastards get?"
Time for a good thick lie. "I don't know the name. The bot has yet to regain consciousness."
Ironhide's chin gouged the floor as he tried to look around the repair bay. No such luck: Barricade had separated the two upon arrival. "Where? What's it look like? Is it purple?" The neutral pronoun didn't fool Barricade: Ironhide suspected the other one was the female bot Flareup, but he didn't want to give away that they'd gotten a girl. Curious.
"I don't know. I have not yet seen him." Barricade played dumb. "All I have are the repair reports. The bots are sometimes not as detailed in their reports as we might wish." A beat. "However, if you wish me to, I'd be happy to find out more detail."
Ironhide snarled. "Don't do me any favors." Ah, Barricade thought, be begging for me to do you favors soon. Just you watch.
Barricade smiled. "I'll let you know anyway, how's that?"
Ironhide ground his facial plates together in frustration. All the answer Barricade was going to get.
"You know," Barricade continued, "You might, and this is just a suggestion, mind you, be a little more comfortable in the repair cradle."
"Easy for your little parasites to get at me that way."
"They are repair bots. They repair things. Most impartial little creatures in the universe. Actually hurts what little feelings they have not to be allowed to fix you." Ironhide grunted. Simple-minded little Autobots. Always count on them, even this one, to worry about feelings. "Harming you is counter to their programming." Best leave out for the moment that Barricade, of course, had the override codes for that little directive. "Now, really. Let the repair bots get you back in the cradle. I bet you'd like to feel your legs."
Ironhide glared up at Barricade.
"Like you'd let them do that."
"I would. If only," and he let the least bit of contempt into his voice, as he stepped forward so that his toe plates were inches from Ironhide's face, "to be able to look you in the eye."
