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[Even though the prognosis had been very good, Bumblebee hadn't wanted to leave. He'd pleaded, given Ratchet his best "look at how pathetic I am take pity on me" sounds and even clung to the medic's leg, but hadn't been permitted to see Ironhide before Ratchet declared him well enough for visitors.

Sam had to leave the base; he had to go back home. Just about everybody was shocked when Bumblebee gently urged him to go ahead. "I'll catch up later," he'd texted directly into Sam's phone in response to the hurt look his charge gave him. Just this once, he couldn't babysit Sam.

Optimus was doing better than Ironhide, which was surprising when one considered just who had been clinically deceased for days just a week before, but Ironhide always did like to steal the spotlight when it came to falling over half-dead. That stubborn old goat.

Bumblebee sat forlornly outside of the hangar where Ironhide was resting until Ratchet emerged. Scrambling to his feet, Bumblebee chirped a question, and upon receiving a nod he hurries inside.]

Rrrrnhhhhhde?

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[Optics flick upward slightly to take in Ironhide's face before flicking back down to stare at the table. This was all wrong. He's the upbeat one, who keeps everyone in good spirits and visits people to share his cheer. Depression really wasn't his thing. Never had been, even when he'd had a good excuse for it.

But as he stares at the table all he can see is black metal peeling away from an energon-encrusted Spark case and Ratchet cursing to himself in Cybertronian, hands buried inside Ironhide's chest cavity up to the wrist. Not two days ago, the surface upon which Ironhide now lay was covered in energon, and Bumblebee had escorted the twins outside before they really and truly began to freak out. Then he'd folded up into his alt form and drove in circles around the complex, over and over and over again.

Yeah. Bumblebee could admit it to himself. He'd been very, very scared.

Bumblebee lifts a finger in a minute gesture, toward Ironhide's chest before tapping it on the table.]

Wass jss-sst wrrrriieeed.

Edited 2011-05-01 07:53 (UTC)

[The voice is painful to hear. It always has been. And he wishes there were some way to really fix it -- the brief words he'd heard in Bumblebee's real voice were a good memory, one the old warrior liked to hold onto. He watches Bumblebee in silence, his good optic flicking over the yellow 'bot's face.]

[He had no illusions that he'd been in bad shape. But he hadn't really thought that it would affect the others. He'd thought they were used to seeing him like this. As much as they were used to seeing Optimus at the head of the procession, or Ratchet taking soil samples.]

[He'd been wrong, apparently, if Bumblebee's reaction was anything to go off of.]

Not going anywhere. No reason to be worried.

[He lets his hand drop onto one of 'Bee's shoulders, absently patting yellow armor in awkward comfort.]

[Bumblebee nods; he knows Ironhide probably just wants him to cheer up already, he never was very good at the emotional aspect of being on a team. Never had been, not as long as Bumblebee had known him (which, admittedly, wasn't nearly as long as most of the others).

So after a moment he straightens, makes a few reproachful clicking noises (more for himself than Ironhide) and heads over to a nearby supply table to fish out one of their few cubes of specially-filtered energon and bringing it back over to Ironhide. He sets it on the table and stands back, hands on his hips.

Need some help with that?]

[Yes, he wants Bumblebee to cheer up. If only because this somber side of him is... so strange. And it worries Ironhide to see. He doesn't know how to react, honestly. So he brushes it all aside, and tries to keep things normal.]

[He watches 'Bee pull back, one of his optic ridges raising curiously. Only when the cube is set down does he shake his head, snorting. He should be surprised. But he isn't.]

I got it.

[Rolling over onto his side is painful, and he does his best to throttle it down, moving stiffly to pick the cube up.]

[If Bumblebee were Ratchet (or suicidal) he'd move forward to help him anyway, but he has a feeling it would be better to let Ironhide handle that himself.

Meanwhile, he'll play a clip Ironhide will probably be happy to hear. It's Lennox's voice, a recorded message he'd asked 'Bee to deliver.]

"Are you recording? Yeah?

...Ironhide, by the time you get this I'll be getting debriefed for the tenth time stateside. I wanted to be there when you woke up, but. I'll be back in a while anyway. Maybe shoulda saved this for then.

..."

[The pauses are filled with white noise; scrapes and voices and jets taking off and landing.]

"...You're a damn fine soldier. Dunno how much that's worth coming from a guy only a fraction your age, but you are.

Make sure you're still here when I get back, would you?

-that's good. I'm done."

[Bumblebee cuts the recording and folds his arms on the table again.]

[He's in the process of downing the cube -- his systems were craving it fiercely, more than he'd anticipated -- when 'Bee plays the clip. He goes still, staring into the cube. One more thing that shouldn't have surprised him. The humans had lost a good many soldiers that day... and their commander was checking in with him.]

... He was all right, when you saw him?

[Not that he thinks otherwise, but he has to check in, all the same. Hearing Lennox's voice... it does his old spark good.]

[He holds the mostly-empty cube out to Bumblebee.]

Need any?

['Bee nods in response to the query about Lennox; scraped up and somber, but alive and well. Walking on his own, eager to see his family and get the paperwork over and done with, probably just as eager as the rest of the Autobots were to get things back to normal. What counted for normal now, anyway.

At the offer, though, he clicks once and shakes his head. He's done nothing to require a refuel and besides that, Ratchet would have his head on a platter if he found out that Bumblebee was sipping from the energon concentrate reserved for critical patients.]

Optimmmss's wwwalkinnng arrrunnd. [Which is good. He'd been so exhausted after the fight that once Ratchet had performed the most vital of repairs Optimus had collapsed into his alt form and slipped into recovery stasis for almost forty hours. If there was one person harder to convince to rest than Ratchet, it was Optimus.]

Good. Good to hear it.

[His air vents huff out in a low sigh. That's one less thing to worry about. Lennox was a good man -- a good soldier. Always treated the Autobots like comrades, friends, rather than with the suspicion so many other humans did. And Lennox's men followed his example. He'd have been a good Autobot, had things been different.]

[He finishes the cube, and lets the empty container rest on the table. It helped -- you never really realized how badly your systems needed a refuel until you had it. And now that it's in him, he feels a good deal better than before.]

... He is? Where is he?

[And, try as he might, he couldn't get the urgency out of his voice. Or the concern. He wasn't going to pretend he understood everything that had happened on the battlefield, but, frankly, he didn't care. Optimus was alive. He'd come back to them. That was all that mattered.]

[Bumblebee shrugs lamely and gestures back and forth with his hand before taking the empty cube container and setting it outside the cubicle for the waste team to dispose of.]

Arrroouund. [Back and forth between different stations, checking in on his Autobots. He'd probably be along to see Ironhide pretty soon, actually.]

Good.

[There's so much relief in that word, it's hard to fully describe. It's written all over Ironhide's face, too. For a moment, he just lays there, his optics shuttered.]

[Then he reaches over, and grasps Bumblebee's hand. Tightly.]

Thanks.

[Bumblebee's antennae lift, he chirrups softly and squeezes Ironhide's hand in return.

Then he initiates an uplink, just for a second.]

[And out he goes.]

Edited 2011-05-02 06:15 (UTC)

[Optimus wasn't quite sure how Bumblebee had managed to find him so quickly, but he had his suspicions and he wasn't about to voice them.

Ironhide was awake. Ratchet had reported as such, but if the medic was permitting him to have visitors such as Bumblebee, it was a good sign. A very good sign.

The younger 'bot hadn't needed to spend much time convincing Optimus to make a trip to the medical hangar, and paused outside to wave him ahead. The cubicle was too small; Optimus with is considerable height was visible over the top edges, so Ironhide would see him even before he entered and vice-versa.

...his weapons specialist has looked worse. He's looked better, yes, but he's also definitely looked worse. For that, Optimus is grateful.]

Ironhide.

[His name is just as much a greeting as it is a relief to say. Optimus nods to him, quietly sealing the cubicle 'door' behind himself and stooping slightly to give them a semblance of privacy.]

Optimus.

[That's all he can say for a minute. Everything else gets tangled up in his processor before it even starts to be words. Seeing Optimus... seeing him up and alive again. It makes something clench up in his chest.]

[Sure, he saw Prime fight. Saw him save the day. But there hadn't been time to feel anything in the heat of battle. There hadn't been a chance to do anything but urge their leader onward, and keep going.]

[Now... now he can look up at Optimus and feel the surge of gratitude, of relief. If he were human, the old 'bot probably would have teared up.]

Took your time showing up.

[Optimus knew Ironhide long before Megatron's descent into insanity; Ironhide had been one of Megatron's best soldiers, after all, and though Optimus had been firmly entrenched in his own work he made it a point to familiarize himself with his brother's colleagues. He may not know him perfectly, but Optimus could make several extremely well-educated guesses about how Ironhide felt concerning the battle and his own death and resurrection.

He could also make a few educated guesses about how much Ironhide would not want those feelings pointed out.]

You have my apologies.

[Pistons hiss and vents exhale as he straightens up again, taking in the damage with a more critical eye. Ironhide had been very close; six inches to the left and the shell that had pierced his armor would have shattered his spark chamber.]

Ratchet tells me you're expected to make a full recovery. [As full as Ironhide could get. He wasn't as young and robust as he used to be a few million years ago.]

[Ironhide watches him, quietly. It's almost too much -- to see Optimus, to hear him. If he were a 'bot who was more capable of showing his feelings, he'd have been some kind of mess. Instead, he can just look. And feel the odd, warm feeling Prime's presence brings.]

[He gave up everything to follow Optimus. He turned his back on friends, on soldiers he'd known his whole life. And every time he looks at Optimus, he knows it was the right thing to do.]

Good enough.

[He holds still, well aware he's under scrutiny. There's no denying he was badly injured. And he knows Optimus can tell.]

Yeah. So long as he can keep me strapped down here. I give it another day.

I would prefer you take at least two.

[Optimus half-turns to watch over the partition as a handful of soldiers wrestle a full barrel the size of his hand onto a dolly to be disposed of safely elsewhere.

They can spare the time to rest, now. Any remaining Decepticons wouldn't dare to challenge them with their own forces so weak and wounded; their morale would also be pitifully low, with the death of the Fallen and Megatron's retreat fresh in mind. An attack was never out of the question, but Optimus was confident that his -their- remaining forces would be able to handle any problems that should arise. Bumblebee, Jolt and Sideswipe were ready to be deployed; if push came to shove, Optimus was battle-ready in the case of an emergency. They would be enough to protect the base while Ironhide and Arcee recovered.]

[He's going to protest... but it dies in his vocal processor. Argue though he might with Ratchet, this is Optimus. He can't argue with him. Well. He could. But not right now.]

... Yes, Prime.

[Ironhide falls silent again. He just watches their leader, half-wondering what's going through Prime's head. And half-figuring he already knows. Which is why he speaks up again, to reassure Prime, and promise himself he won't be stuck lying down if he doesn't have to be.]

If you need me, I will fight. You know that.

[Optimus nods, observing the soldiers with satisfaction as they assist with the clean up. Despite the flaws of the few, Optimus believes that they've made diligent and powerful allies in the humans.]

You and Arcee are to remain here to recover unless I specifically request your assistance. I understand that this is a difficult order for you to follow.

[But he trusted that Ironhide would. The old 'bot wasn't the type to appreciate or be content with sitting idly by knowing his comrades were in danger. Or, really, if there were Decepticons committing injustices elsewhere at all. Ironhide always hated to be left behind a battle, placed on guard duty. Anything that wasn't a position at the front lines was nearly torture.

But Ironhide would obey him. It was an honor Optimus did not -would not- take lightly.]

[Ironhide huffs, a scowl on his face. No, he doesn't like that. He hates it. He should be at the front of their forces, taking on what others couldn't. He should be the one to take the hard hits, and keep on going.]

[Which... is probably why he's lying here. But that's a logic he doesn't want to acknowledge.]

Yeah. It is. Hate it when you run off, leave me laying around like scrap.

[But he will. He'd give his life for Optimus, if asked. Or unasked. Because Optimus would never ask him to. That just wasn't Prime's way. But, such was the depth of his loyalty to this Autobot.]

It is only precaution.

[Optimus clasps his hands behind his back, a tinge of amusement tracing through his processors at the huff. For all his cantankerous posturing, Ironhide tended to be a particularly easy read if one merely paid attention.]

I do not believe the Decepticons will launch another assault so soon after such a crushing defeat. They have been cowed by the combined efforts of both Autobot and human alike; to test those powers again would be folly, and Megatron is no fool.

[Insane with power, twisted by dark ideals, yes. Not foolish. Ironhide would know that very, very well.

If Optimus had to guess, Megatron would most likely try to find a way to turn the humans against the Autobots. Separate them. It was a possibility of which he would need to remain aware.

Still...he wanted to offer Ironhide some form of comfort. He knew about which of the Autobots Ironhide worried the most.]

However, should something arise, I will not send Ratchet or Bumblebee unless absolutely necessary.

I know.

[He knows, but he doesn't like it. Everything Optimus says is true, as much as he'd like to believe Megatron was nothing more than a power-hungry pile of scrap metal... he knew what the Decepticon leader was capable of. They all did.]

[It's clear what Optimus is doing. And he appreciates it. So... in return, he offers up his own advice.]

Keep Sideswipe with Jolt, unless you have to separate them. Work well as a team... keep each other stable.

[He pauses, and, in a rare gesture, slides a hand across an empty portion of table, nearer their leader. Normally he'd have just clasped Prime on the arm, but this is about as much as he can manage.]

Appreciate it, Prime.

[Optimus turns back to Ironhide to nod again, both to recognize his gratitude and to acknowledge his suggestion. It was good, sound advice.

Optimus reaches over to rest a hand on Ironhide's forearm, just for a moment, before withdrawing and peering over the side of the cubicle at the ground below. There's a moment of silence until a quiet, embarrassed clicking noise sounds and Optimus hums.]

Yes, you may online your audio sensors now. However, perhaps it would be more prudent of you to simply remove yourself from the area to eliminate the temptation to eavesdrop, Bumblebee.

[Optimus turns back to Ironhide.]

Bumblebee has requested the honor of guarding you. [The tone in Optimus's voice is clear; he's mostly humoring Bumblebee, and asking Ironhide's permission. He knew the veteran appreciated his time alone and would order Bumblebee to give him space if Ironhide so desired it.]

[That brief contact is more than enough. Especially for Ironhide. He nods. Only to look completely confused when Optimus -- ah. Well. That explains it.]

[He just snorts -- more amused than anything. Had it been someone else listening in, he probably would have gotten up to crack them one over the head. Bumblebee gets the special privilege of grudging amusement, instead of cranky old anger. And he can't blame him for being concerned.]

Huh. Guess he earned it. Since he has all his parts together...

[Oh yes, he can hear that tone. No sense in not playing along, sounding as if he were considering turning down the offer. This is, of course, a sure sign he's feeling a lot more like himself.]

[There's a loud buzz from just over the wall that's half-indignant and half-grateful.

HE KNOWS WHAT YOU'RE DOING, IRONHIDE. AND HE STILL LOVES YOU.]

Very well.

[Optimus opens the hatch in the partition, pausing to turn back to Ironhide.]

I will return to debrief you once you have rested a bit longer. [And to catch Ironhide up on things and talk strategy with him. Just because his body wasn't ready for battle didn't mean his mind was incapable of it as well.]

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