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Verity shivered as the adrenaline pulsed through her veins and images of the killed comrades flown through her mind. The sudden death of Rotorstorm, and the discovery of the horrifying remains of Fortress Maximus, left to rust in a cell, raged in her thoughts. Plus the fact that killer-'cons were ready to break down the door and kill them wasn't too pleasing to think about either. It was all too much to handle. She removed her helmet with a groan; her ragged, shaky breath making it impossible to see through the glass anymore. In the corner of her eye, she noticed Ironfist slide down the wall and rest on the floor at the far edge of the room. Verity quickly decided to walk over to him and hoped for a distraction.
"Talk to me Ironfist," She pleaded. "Take my mind off of all this."
"About what?" He quirked a questioning brow and eyed her as she stood by his sitting frame.
"I dunno, anything." She breathed, her gaze soon falling to the floor.
His silence in response made the tinge of anxiety strengthen in her chest. She exhaled, blowing a strand of dark hair away from her face and scuffed her boot at the floor. She blinked as she saw that Ironfist brought his hand down for her to step onto. She hesitatingly reached out for his thumb and pulled herself up onto his palm, not daring to look away from his optics. His eyes were dulled down to a pale white, and Verity's heart sank as she noticed almost all signs of blue drained from them. Ironfist brought her towards his chassis and Verity fell on her backside from the sudden movement. She hugged her legs close to her chest, closed her eyes and rested her chin on her knees with a huff. With his freehand, he rested his elbow on his bent knee and sighed as the thrums of his spark chamber rang in the human's ears, almost like the ticking of a slow clock.
...Like a ticking clock. That thought brought back something that she hoped to keep buried in the back of her mind. She learned from eavesdropping on Prowl that Ironfist had a lab accident in the past, hence the fracture in his helm. Her brows knit together as she pondered on why he'd never brought it up to the others, even after he had several black-out spells that would make most worrisome.
"Since we're probably all going to die," Her voice broke through the silence. "I want to ask you about something."
She tilted her head upward and peeked an eye open, glancing up to his face, waiting for his response. She prepped to continue after she realized he was still staring down at her, his optics flashing with eagerness. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that he wouldn't get angry at her.
"Why haven't you told us about the accident?" Ironfist stiffened and his optics grew wide.
"You know?" He shouted in a hushed tone.
Ironfist was surprised when Prowl announced his knowledge of his past, and he was even more shocked to find the human found out too. He simply pieced together that she must have been snooping around or sifting through his files. He sighed and dropped his head back into his palm, losing interest in hiding the truth anymore. He felt humiliation wash over him as she perked up to stare at the fracture in his head-plate. Verity exchanged glances between his optics and the wound in his head, and eventually she could sense his discomfort. She assumed that Ironfist knew that the injury was irreversible, but she believed there could be something done.
"Please don't give up," She sat strait as her voice nearly cracked. "We can still help you..."
"I wont give up..." Ironfist spoke barely above a whisper, and Verity's face brighted with a hopeful smile. "I won't give up the fact that I was already dead the moment it happened."
Verity's smile quickly died. She gaped at him, her mind wandering on what he meant. She was aware that the accident left him badly damaged, but he healed up after all this time she assumed. He was still walking, talking, and it was all okay. It has to be okay.
"You look pretty alive to me." Verity muttered, hoping the word alive would remain a word to describe Ironfist. She felt tears threaten to pour and she hid her face away with her hands. She bit her lip and struggled to hold back a sob, peeking out of her fingers to softly croak out, "...And let's keep it that way."
In the silence that envoloped the room, the two didn't realize that the group gathered at the datapad of aequita were leering at their emotional discussion ever since it started. Perceptors busy fingers tapping on the keys was all that was heard in the silence, other than muffled sniffles escaping from Verity. Pyro was standing by Perceptor, stuck between watching the two speaking to one another and Topspin writhing in pain on the floor. With Ironfist's and Verity's obliviousness to the open audios in the room, Perceptor glanced worriedly over to Pyro as a pang of angst built up in his spark. Was Verity the only one who hasn't figured it out already?
Ironfist was lost in thoughts rumbling around inside his head. He knew his days were numbered. He's been aware ever since the day of the accident. What hurt the most was that Verity didn't know, and he knew he didn't have it in him to tell her. Even if he did survive this breach of Garrus-9, he wouldn't live for long that much after. He couldn't stand the thought. Verity struggled to rub away the tears on her cheeks, hoping they went unnoticed. Her sniffles were interrupted when a plash was heard landing on the floor. She gaped up to Ironfist's face to see liquid leaking from his pale optics. She never thought it was possible for a cybertronian to cry, and she never thought it would be so heart breaking to witness. Another tear fell from his face and onto the floor, leaving Verity's eyes begging to let their own tears fall as well.
"May Primus be with us."
---
After Overlord's destruction and the overall end of the reign of decepticons in Garrus-9, the survivors returned to Earth with the bodies of the fallen and the critically damaged. Verity was sure Ironfist was going to stay by her side for many a year, until he had another black-out. But this time, it was different. It seemed that once the war ceased, so did his burning spark. He didn't wake again. Verity kneeled by his limp helm, staring into his offlined optics and praying to see them light up again. It felt like an eternity before Ratchet announced he was officially dead. A mechanical anuerism, he said.
"This is a story of sacrifice and betrayal. And of good people dying in stupid, pointless ways... But the moral of the story is that life persists."