Friendly Fire
"I really hope those F16 have good aim."
"Why?"
"Because I told them to shoot at the orange smoke."
"… That orange smoke?!"
"It was not my best throw…"
…
"Run!"
Ironhide cursed vividly as he caught up with Lennox's words, and found himself in a rather risky position. When the humans bolted away from the ruin wall, it wasn't much of a decision to lurch after them.
What the Pit were they thinking?!
Then the explosion of the humans' aircraft attacks boomed behind him, and clouds of smoke and dust covered the surrounding area in seconds, including Ironhide. But he kept moving forward.
Suddenly a searing pain began flashing warnings to his CPU. At first Ironhide thought it was originating from directly on top of his spark chamber, which would be really slaggin' bad, but further examination of the scans confirmed close to the center of his chest. Close, too fraggin' close.
He couldn't see the wound as massive amounts of sand, dust and smoke was still blinding him, instead he kept going, holding a black hand near the offended area.
Ironhide staggered out of the smoke cloud as another rain of missiles exploded behind him. He was still receiving scans from the aching injury.
He covered behind a large half-crumbled wall, with his back against the stone, as he examined the scorched area. The metal was still slightly orange from the heat of the attack, and it didn't look like it was the work of a piece of shrapnel. So it could either be a Decepticon who had gotten a lucky shot, or it could've been friendly fire.
Friendly fire wasn't all that friendly…
It didn't look all too good, and it hurt like the Pit. Melted alloy and burnt supports, energon oozing lightly from the few cut cables.
Ironhide's medical opinion? His innards looked busted.
Of course, he was no medic and he wondered if he should call Ratchet, get a quick patch-up before going out destroying those pathetic Decepticons protoforms.
He dispatched the thought as quickly as he had gotten it, because Ratchet didn't have any slaggin' time. Just like Ironhide didn't have time to sit there and pounder. This was war!
Therefore, as he tried to stand, Ironhide was surprised to see the yellow medic run past not that far away from him, then skittering to a halt before changing direction towards Ironhide.
Huh, Primus wanted it different, apparently.
"Don't move," Ratchet ordered flatly as he reached Ironhide and pushed the black soldier down again. "Let me look at it, before you go blast yourself up again!"
"No credibility in my abilities," Ironhide growled mockingly, but he settled down.
Ratchet's optics narrowed dangerously, but he kept at his work, doing quick seals on leaking cables and a just as quick patch-up. Removing small pieces of crumbling armor Ratchet said, "You are going to dry this planet of replacement parts before the year is over."
Ironhide just gave an amused snort. Honestly, that was probably true. If the sun didn't get blown up first.
Ratchet finished the fastest patch-up he had done since arriving to Earth, and then tried to drag the black Autobot up. "Come on now, can't let Sideswipe and Jolt take the whole load."
The yellow medic and the black fighter stood just in time to hear Mikaela's anguished scream, "Sam!"
They turned in time to see Mikaela glide and fall to her knees beside the young boy's burnt and still body.