So a little bit of a filler chapter again, but I can assure you that we will get back to some action in the next one. Enjoy!
Ironhide suddenly found himself being attacked, though he did not know by who. Everything was so blindingly bright that he could not see anything.
And although he somehow felt that he had been through this a thousand times before, he could not help but feel as if this time he would not survive it.
Ironhide felt the sting of a blade slicing across his armor and he genuinely began to panic. He had nothing to defend himself, and although he had been managing to hold his own—albeit barely—up until this point, he did not know how much longer he could keep it up. He was tiring so fast.
Suddenly, his audios picked up the sound of a familiar voice calling his name in the distance.
"Ironhide, this way!"
Ironhide glanced to the side and saw the Autobot medic standing in the whiteness, the mech much closer than Ironhide would have expected.
Ratchet gestured for him to follow. "Come on!"
Then, as if some kind of fog had lifted, Ironhide was all of sudden aware of where they were—it appeared to be a desert, the pale-colored sand swirling around him.
The attacks seemed to have stopped as well, but Ironhide did not have time to think about that. Ratchet turned and began to run and Ironhide took off after him, fearing that the attacks would begin again or that he would be stopped.
But no one stopped him.
However, Ratchet was much faster. The medic's slender form was quickly shrinking and the distance between them grew larger, and although Ironhide was running as fast as he could, it felt as if he was barely moving.
Was it the sand that was slowing him down? But no, that did not make sense... Why did Ratchet seem to have no trouble with it?
Ironhide was venting hard as he finally managed to catch up to Ratchet, though it was only because the medic had slowed his pace as he approached the edge of a sheer cliff. Ironhide was not yet close enough to tell how far down it was, but he could see the canyon on the other side brightly illuminated by the setting sun. He slowed down too as he got close to Ratchet.
"Come on," the medic urged him again, turning toward the edge as if he was about to jump.
Ironhide faltered, unable to believe what he was seeing. "Ratchet..." he panted, "please, stop..."
He could not finish what he wanted to say, but the medic seemed to understand him.
"It's just an illusion," Ratchet said. "A visual cliff. It's not real."
Ironhide drew in a haggard vent of air and forced himself to take a step closer but then he hesitated, glancing at the dizzyingly deep gorge that his sensors and his optics told him was all too real.
The medic merely smiled at him, putting a hand on Ironhide's rigid shoulder. "Do you trust me?"
Ironhide glanced at the chartreuse mech, his light-colored optics radiating calm like a pale blue sea, and then glanced at the sky, which was growing dark with clouds, then at the gorge which could not be anything but real.
Ironhide was too afraid to look back the way he had came, certain that he would see whomever they had been running from not far behind.
"Don't look down. Just jump," Ratchet told him. Then, giving the weapons specialist no time to think, Ratchet leapt off the edge.
"Ratchet!" the veteran warrior scrambled to the edge of the cliff to try to save Ratchet, but the medic had disappeared into thin air.
Ironhide wanted to cry out. He was alone, and terrified, and he just knew that he was not going to be able to survive this on his own. He felt it so strongly in his spark...
Believing he had no other choice, and having nothing to lose, he jumped just as the medic had.
But rather than disappearing into some kind of safety, he found himself falling to the ground below. Seconds passed, but nothing changed.
Ironhide braced himself, mentally and physically, just before hitting the ground...
The weapons specialist awoke with a start, his spark racing in his chest as he quickly unshuttered his optics. He then realized that it was dark, and that he was still lying on the berth in the little solitary room where he had gone into recharge. His sensors detected no other beings.
Primus, had that all been a dream? Ironhide could still feel the terror surging through his thoughts, and although he knew for a fact that the room was empty, he was still too frightened to even lift his head up off the berth to take a look around.
He drew in a vent of air, hoping he could calm himself.
Several breems passed before Ironhide's spark rate settled down to something that resembled normal. He then carefully pushed himself up to a sitting position, noting that the room felt much colder than it had initially. Should he ask Ratchet for a thermal blanket?
No, he did not want to disturb the medic. With some effort he hauled himself to his feet, his balance not quiet as good as it had been earlier. He felt lightheaded as well, but it was not bad. If it got significantly worse, then he would tell him.
Ironhide knelt down and quietly opened one of the drawers of the nightstand, looking for a thermal blanket. He found one a few seconds later, and after struggling ever so slightly to push himself back up off the floor to sit on the berth, he contently covered himself with it. He also noticed the small cube of energon that Ratchet had left for him.
Ironhide had not touched it yet, having been too tired earlier to worry about such things, but now it looked so very inviting.
He picked it up, taking a small sip of the blue liquid before he settled down to go back to recharge.
/* * */
Ratchet was a bit disconcerted to find that Ironhide had purged his energon sometime in the middle of the night. He should have known that the weapons specialist needed to spend the night in the med bay, but at least the mech was there now.
And he was watching closely with his red optics as Ratchet wandered back and forth to gather this or that piece of diagnostic equipment, the medic in all actuality just putting off what he knew he really needed to do. Perhaps his thoughts from the night before were still getting to him.
Ratchet was at least glad that no one could see into his processor—he felt almost ashamed for having been thinking so much about Ironhide and how the mech had gotten sparked. It was completely irrelevant from a medical standpoint and certainly none of his concern in any other way, yet again and again he found himself wanting to know what Ironhide had been through. And not just with that, but before it as well.
Perhaps he had allowed himself to get entirely too close to this whole situation. Maybe he needed to take a step back and try to distance himself from it.
Ironhide and Ratchet both looked up as another mech entered the med bay. Ratchet was relieved to see that it was Ultra Magnus, as Optimus seemed to have an uncanny ability to not only show up when Ratchet already had too much on his mind but also to see right through any attempts the medic made to hide that fact.
Not that Ratchet ever did not want his leader and friend to be there for him, he just sometimes did not feel like trying to explain himself, nor did he want Optimus to think that he did not want to confide in him. Ratchet just found it difficult to talk about things when he himself was not even sure of what he was feeling.
Ratchet felt the weapons specialist tense up as Ultra Magnus approached, the medic having been moving some of the wires from the diagnostic equipment that ran along the back mech's frame. "Easy," he said gently. "Ultra Magnus is a friend."
Ironhide did relax slightly, though he kept a wary optic on the blue mech who had now stopped only a handful of steps away from them.
"Magnus," Ratchet greeted him. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
Ultra Magnus rested his hands on the edge of a nearby counter. "Harmony and Slidedrive are here to see you," he informed the medic. "They know they're early, but I told them I would let you know."
He could have let him know through a comm message, Ratchet thought, but he had a feeling he knew why Ultra Magnus had chosen to come here instead. The large blue mech had always seemed to hold Ironhide in high regard—more so than any other Decepticons, even those as equally high-ranking—and he had always taken at least some interest in what was going on with the mech. "All right," Ratchet replied to him. "I should be done here shortly."
Ultra Magnus nodded but did not make any attempt to leave, which was fine with Ratchet. Ironhide could use a distraction while the medic ran his tests, and even though he was no longer looking at the large Autobot, Ratchet knew that Ultra Magnus still held at least some of the black mech's attention.
"Ironhide," Ratchet addressed him, "I'm going to run a deeper scan this time. It might feel uncomfortable but it won't hurt."
Ironhide nodded once but did not say anything, which was not a surprise as lately he had been getting non-verbal in the presence of more than one mech. Or at least that was what it seemed like to Ratchet. He had not asked about it because Ironhide was likely already stressed from being put in a new situation and Ratchet simply did not want to give the mech anything else to think about. As long as the weapons specialist did not respond to any anxiety in a way that was inappropriate, Ratchet would leave him be.
"All right." Ratchet picked up his scanner, a more precise one this time than he had had out in the field. He proceeded to scan Ironhide from his helm to his feet, the weapons specialist already knowing to stay still.
The scanner beeped when it was done, and Ratchet took a moment to zoom in on the still image that was of the most concern to him. He analyzed it quickly but carefully, running calculations in his head, coming to a conclusion in just a handful of seconds.
It seemed that the sparkling was indeed older than Ratchet had originally suspected, although it was only by an orn or two. At least that did explain why the mech was having a hard time keeping any energon down—one or two orns along versus three or four would make a difference as far as that was concerned. Ironhide's systems would be quite imbalanced right now.
Ratchet turned to the only other Autobot nearby. "Ultra Magnus, could you wait outside for a moment?"
Ultra Magnus nodded before taking a step back, recognizing when Ratchet wanted to discuss something privately with his patient. "Of course."
Ratchet waited for him to leave before he turned to Ironhide, who was watching him curiously but patiently. Ratchet only held his gaze for a few seconds before he looked away, unsure of how much he should tell him and what he should say. But he knew he had to say something—it was not fair to keep Ironhide in the dark.
"Is it getting worse?" Ironhide asked suddenly.
The medic glanced at him then, unsure of exactly what the black mech was referring to. "Is what getting worse?"
"Whatever I have," Ironhide replied.
Ratchet paused for a moment. "No," he began, but then he corrected himself. "I mean, you don't 'have' anything. You've just been through a lot and sometimes it isn't easy getting past it."
Ironhide nodded and glanced away, seeming to accept that explanation. But Ratchet knew he owed Ironhide more than that.
"Here," he said, pulling the memory core that Ironhide had given him so long ago out of subspace and handing it to the black mech. "This is yours. You gave it to me a little while back in case anything like this happened to you."
[
Confusion written on his faceplates, Ironhide took it tentatively, turning it over in his hand. "I gave this to you?"
Ratchet nodded. "Yes. It contains almost all the information you are missing about your past."
Ironhide still looked confused, as if he did not understand anything Ratchet was telling him. "Were we friends?"
Ratchet pursed his lip plates, realizing that he should just answer honestly as Ironhide was not going to remember any of this anyway. Not once he reloaded his memory core, at least. "I would like to think so."
He could not bring himself to tell Ironhide anything more, about anything.