Chapter Text
The general repairs and maintenance were simple enough procedures that Ratchet could have, if he wanted to, have done it with his optics closed. The only real cause for concern was something out of the medics control, being Ironhide’s elevated spark rate.
“I’m meeting Orion and a couple of other friends. You be interested?” asked the medic casually as he finished with Ironhide’s knees.
Ironhide raised an optic ridge, “Do I know them?”
“Some. Bawn, Impactor, Hauler-”
“Who’s that?”
“… and some you don’t know. Thoughts?”
“I dunno how I feel like meeting a bunch of new mechs right now. Especially after Zeta’s little party.”
“Energon’s free,” said Ratchet before adding, “and it’ll be after your shifts.” He hoped it would be enough to coax the Prime’s guard into attending. For a long time now Ironhide struggled with socialising with mechs he wasn’t familiar with. Too weary and tired to figure out if there was any hidden agenda behind the friendly pleasantries. Ironically this went both ways as mechs outside the tower were weary of Ironhide by virtue of his association with the senate and the Prime. The double path of mistrust leaving Ratchet’s long-time friend rather isolated and dare he say it, lonely.
Eventually Ironhide relented after much consideration, “… When y’all meeting?”
Ratchet nodded, silently pleased but also surprised with Ironhide’s response. He didn’t think Ironhide would accept the invite with this new young mech in the picture, “In two solar-cycles. Not Maccadam’s this time. I’ll comm you the location later.” Ironhide hummed in response possibly regretting his decision but didn’t voice anything.
Ratchet cleared away his tools and gestured to his long-time friend he was done, “I’d let you stay longer but I did kick out another patient to see you. Do you mind waking him up?”
“Oh right, sure thing Doc-bot and thanks for seeing us when we turned up all outta the blue and all. And ughhh…. sorry about the fire and all that.”
“Don’t be sorry about the fire, you didn’t set the place ablaze.” Replied Ratchet dryly thinking of the highly strung receptionist. “Just make an actual appointment next time.” The medic turned to tend to his tools and notes leaving Ironhide to wake Prowl. Watching out of the corner of his optic as Ironhide, with all the grace his rough edges allowed him, gently shook the white and black awake.
Prowl it appeared, was not a morning mech, or a waking-up-kinda-of-mech at all for that matter. He sat up on the berth after Ironhide gently roused him like something from one of those zombie holo-flicks Ratchet had been convinced into watching some time ago. The white and black mumbled a groggy sentence of thanks towards to medic who reciprocated it with quiet amusement as Ironhide gently pushed Prowl out of the room.
“Two solar-cycles?” asked Ironhide as they exited the examination room.
Ratchet nodded, “I’ll comm you.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Ironhide inwardly cringed as they passed through the reception on their way out of the clinic. Flicker was unfortunately still there looking extraordinarily disgruntled and displeased to see Ironhide was he entered the waiting space which had been mostly cleared of the water with only various scorch marks here and there that gave away anything had happened. Thankfully Ironhdie was saved from having to speak to Flicker by the black and white visored mech who had been sitting on one of the waiting chairs idly scrolling through a datapad.
“You all done with the Doc-bot?” he asked rather amicably for a mech that had gotten his appointment swiped from him.
“Yeah, sorry about that but the way.” Replied Ironhide sheepishly.
“No worries mech, we’re cool.” was Jazz’s response as he stood from his seat. Encouraged by Jazz’s friendliness Ironhide turned to Flicker who scowled over her weird glasses. Ironhide wondered if she was trying to set him on fire with her glare.
“I’ll ughhh…. Make an appointment next time?” he offered.
“Ensure that you do.” Snapped Flicker dismissively and Ironhide fled the clinic with Prowl in tow.
“Where are we going?” asked the white and black once outside- still half-asleep.
Ironhide paused, he hadn’t really thought about where’d they’d go. Definitely not back to the Spires. Primus knew they needed a break from that place. “Someplace for a bit of quiet I think.” Ironhide decided.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Ratchet had barely a moments peace to collect his thoughts when he heard the door slide open.
“Ratchet are you dooooooonneee?” asked Jazz peeping into the room.
“I’m done when I say I’m done you little pest!” grumbled Ratchet finishing typing up his notes onto the terminal.
“Well, are you done now?” inquired the black and white innocently.
Ratchet stared at the little peering face from the door with a blank expression and sighed. The little scraplet somehow always managed to make him feel 100 stellar-cycles older without barely lifting a finger and he still had yet to figure out if it was on purpose or not.
“Fine, I’m done, even if I’m not.” The medic threw up his hands as Jazz gleefully entered the room shutting the door behind him. The younger mech smoothly glided up onto one of the wheeled chairs before sitting down with enough force to make the wheeled chair spin around on the spot. A stupid grin on his visored face and apparently determined to continue being a pestering pest, “Sooo who were they?”
“Nunya.” Sniffed Ratchet.
“Oh come on! Spill the gears Ratch. Who were they?” pouted Jazz putting his hands together in a mock begging motion. Ratchet relented. Jazz had become a constant in the medic’s life for the last 7 solar-cycles and Ratchet had begun to find it hard to deny Jazz’s requests. For, like Ironhide, Jazz was another rather lonely spark.
“Since you’re far too damn nosey for your own good the red one was Ironhide. You’ll be meeting him more formally at our get together so make sure you play nice.”
“Ironhide?” echoed Jazz, “You mean the one that works for the council?” the black and white notably tensed and shifted in his twirly chair as he stopped it from spinning. His visor notably darkening.
Ratchet rolled his optics, “We’ve been over this Jazz. He’s clear and he’s not working there by choice either besides, Orion’s quite fond of him so if you have anything to say about him maybe think twice. Or at least wait until after you meet him.”
Jazz pursed his lips thoughtfully, “What about the other one? The dented one with the doors?”
Ratchet allowed a weary sigh as he felt the line between patient-doctor confidentiality being tested, “Him I’ve not met before but he won’t be attending our little meeting. Ironhide seems fond of him if that’s worth anything-”
(It wasn’t)
“-and It also seems like he isn’t working in the Spires by choice either.”
Ratchet allowed Jazz a moment to process the information and sort his opinions. The black and white for all that it appeared, seemed content to accept Ratchet’s belief in his own words and the medic decided to move forward with the conversation else they’d be stuck on ‘Jazz’s suspicious mode’ all cycle.
“So?” asked the medic, “What’s wrong?”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
It had been a while since Ironhide had strolled about through Iacon city and now that he was there, suddenly finding a quiet spot felt like an impossible task. Eventually he remembered a quiet park that overlooked one of the various train stations that decorated Iacon. The park wasn’t so close that the sound of the train and station noise was intrusive and it was out of the direct line of thoroughfare which ment they wouldn’t have to worry about periodical waves of crowds rushing past them.
There were few others in the park. All quietly minding their own business as per the typical norm of cybertronians. A vendor selling the last few batches of energon goodies a little away. Ironhide grabbed a box before taking a seat at one of the benches. Prowl silently following along having long since fully woken up and running at his typical speed. His groggy quietness now replaces with a steely silence which Ironhide didn’t quite know what to make of.
He offered the box of the goodies to the white and black. Prowl didn’t take any. Awkwardly, Ironhide set the box between them as they watched the train in speed through the station. They hadn’t said anything, but it was clear enough to Ironhide that Prowl was upset about something. He could feel a cocktail of conflicting emotions emanating from the younger mech. Confusion, fear, anger and frustration with no direction where to aim it or what to do with it. An emotional cocktail that Ironhide was all too familiar with.
Just when the silence started to get uncomfortable the white and black spoke up.
“You knew what Zeta was like.” Prowl’s words cut the silence like a blade and it finally became clear to Ironhide what had been gnawing at the white and black.
“I’d hoped you’d never have to find out.” Admitted Ironhide. It was foolish really in hindsight to think that he could hide Zeta’s more violent tendencies. Even more so that Ironhide had even deluded himself into thinking he could stop Zeta if he tried.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” There was a stiffness in Prowl’s voice as he refused to look at Ironhide.
“I was trying to…” Ironhide couldn’t finish as guilt began to flood through his spark.
“Trying to what?” Prowl almost snapped causing Ironhide’s plating to bristle defensively as an uncomfiness settled inside his spark.
“I was trying to protect you!” snapped back the old guard.
Prowl flinched slightly at the yell and made a noise that Ironhide akinned to the sound a glitch-mouse makes when you accidently step on one. The white and black turned his head away from Ironhide. “How was keeping me in the dark going to do that?” he asked in a quieter choked voice. The old mech scolded himself for loosing his temper so quickly and collected himself with a deep vent.
“I should have told you about Zeta. I’m sorry I didn’t…” his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the words. He should be better at this- whatever this was.
“Prowl…” He tried again, “…I promise I won’t keep you in the dark.”
Prowl turned to look at Ironhide. He opened his mouth and frowned as if he was about to say something or at least try to. The white and black continued in his uncomfortable endeavour to communicate but in the end spoken words proved too difficult for Prowl. Instead, location ping alert sounded off on Ironhide’s HUD. The red mech blinked his optics in surprise.
Prowl glanced a look at the old guard and awkwardly took an Energon goodie from the box between them. He didn’t eat it. He just held it in its wrapper and pulled his legs up so that his knees were touching his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I…I’m sorry too.” He mumbled.
The red mech allowed a small wry smile before tentatively placing a hand around Prowl’s shoulder. He paused for a moment before pulling the white and black close in a side-hug as he returned the location ping.