𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙴

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

It was very rare that Ironhide dreamed of anything. Usually, during recharge, his state of mind remained a black void that carried on throughout the night and into the daylight. He was grateful for the lack of vivid images to haunt his memory.

But one night, Ironhide dreamt. It was not a soothing dream filled with the soothing songs from their time on Gnao 6YDO, nor was it an action-packed memory of him beating down on a slaggin' Decepticon. Instead, his dream brought him dread in the form of Eleanor.

She had been lying on the ground, and it was pouring rain, the icy daggers drenching her in its cold anger. It felt just as she described it to him. Cold, brittle. Aching. Hopeless. There was cement underneath his feet, and he was smaller than Starscream, who loomed in front of him. Tch. His holoform.

Trying, he reached out to her, only for the roar of thunder to beat against his voice, shutting it out as he called her name. Eleanor continued to lay there, her body destroyed, her resolve slowly dissipating the longer she remained motionless. Her cries were the only thing piercing through the air, piercing through the fight in front of her.

In the distance, there was another body -- her brother. Theodore.

Primus. Ironhide believed the accident to be bad as Eleanor herself was riddled with scars that she did not fancy speaking about, but gazing at her injured brother, he now understood the extremities of it.

The boy looked like a shell of who he had been, or so Ironhide assumed. It was as though he had been carved open, his insides pulled out to leave nothing but air inside. Blood pooled around the fleshy body, coating the human in grime so thick that it looked as black as the asphalt he was laid upon. In the middle of his chest, he was pierced with a part of the truck that was wrecked no five-hundred feet to the west of him. He was screaming for his sibling.

The dream continued on in a hazy sort of playback, Ironhide still perplexed as to his being here. Eleanor did relay the information to him, but she had not gone into such detail that he could picture it so perfectly. She had just told him hours prior and had hiccuped throughout the entire process.

Rain poured and sleet hounded, but it did not touch Ironhide. His holoform remained dry as he trekked through the wreckage of glass and metal. The usual clank of steel rang in his ears as he neared the skirmish, a gun blowing through the thunder like Optimus's sword through a Decepticon.

As he neared it, he found Bumblebee, the Scout who Ironhide had not seen in months due to the 'bot's decision to stay with Sam Witwicky to protect him; Bumblebee was fighting against Starscream. The 'bot's faceplate was down, shielding him from the rain and the sharp blades that the Seeker had produced. He was swiftly dodging each move, parrying it with one of his own.

Moments felt like vorns until Starscream approached Eleanor with the intent of killing her. By this time, the girl had given all hope to the world instead of containing it within herself. Her eyes were hollow, and Theodore laid near her, dead. She had accepted that she was going to die, so much that she did not even shriek when she went soaring through the sky at Starscream's disposal.

Ironhide, frozen in his spot and knowing that there was nothing that he could do, watched in horror as her limp body circled around until it seemed as though it was going to fall into the rapids below them.

But by some miracle, a hand caught her, and it was an intense yellow-Bumblebee.

Ironhide choked on his own surprise, then woke with a start.

Back online, he breathed in a deep breath of disgusting Earth air, placing a servo upon his chassis. Too vivid, it almost felt as though Eleanor gave him the dream to sift through himself.

And Bumblebee-the younger Autobot had been present. Eleanor had failed to mention that to Ironhide. She had not confessed whom she was saved by, only divulged the tormentor's description.

But. . . Bumblebee was a factor in the situation. Ironhide was not daft. He understood that his imagination could not have produced such an illuminating reverie. This was Eleanor's memory. How he received it is beyond his understanding, but the intent was clear. It was everything she knew.

Everything that she believed.

Ironhide went to Colonel Cambridge first. Since the man was not on base, he called him.

"Ironhide, good morning," Colonel Cambridge greeted. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Eleanor," Ironhide bit out without a greeting in response. "She deserves to know. Everything."

Silence settled on the other side of the line. Many times, Ironhide and Colonel Cambridge have discussed this topic, and many times, it has resulted in a dispute. Ironhide was certain this would not be any different.

"Ironhide," the man warned. "We've talked about this. Eleanor is not ready for that--"

"Bull scrap, Owen!" Ironhide grunted through his comm. "You are treating her like she is still grieving when it is apparent that she has healed a great deal! No longer does she need you to coddle her. What she requires is for you to step up and be her father and inform her of the dangers she is living with!"

Owen snorted, but it was not one of humor. "You are not going to sit there and grill me about parenting my own child, Ironhide! I can comprehend what she needs quite clearly, and that is not for us to tell her about the Decepticons or Autobots! She is just now getting over Theodore's death; I'm not going to ruin that for her."

Ironhide withheld his annoyance. If only he could tell Owen what Eleanor spoke to him about. If only he could show Owen the dream that he had just been a victim to. If only he knew just what Eleanor went through--just how much she, herself, knew. Before any of them had come to Earth, even. Before Sam Witwitcky and the glasses, and Mission City.

But that would be a breach of her trust, and Ironhide wished not to break that, no matter how much the picture of her in his arms, terrified of the entire universe around her, pushed him to tell Owen.

"You would simply be treating her as an equal. What is the harm in that?"

"Ironhide. . ." Owen trailed, sounding defeated as though he's repeated this many a time. "Listen, I know you're close with Ellie, and I know you care about her, okay? But, she's my kid. I know what I'm doing. Do not tell Eleanor. Are we clear?"

What a waste of time. Ironhide hung up the phone and searched for Optimus Prime.

"Prime," he said when he found the 'bot in the medical bay with Ratchet. "We need to talk."

"Very well," Optimus replied, not sounding very surprised. "Let us walk and talk, old friend."

The two of them walk on the hard cement outside of the airplane hangar, walking past other 'bots and humans and into the greenery of the forest. Ironhide remained silent until he was certain they were away from prying ears.

"I believe we should inform Eleanor Cambridge about our existence."

Optimus hummed, as though expecting this also. Ironhide believed nothing could phase the Prime, but he held his stance, awaiting an answer.

"Why do you believe this, Ironhide?"

"She has had direct contact with them before. Back when her brother died, she was almost a casualty to the battle of Starscream and our very own Bumblebee."

Optimus turned his optics to Ironhide. "Really? Bumblebee. How are you so certain?"

"It appeared to me in my mind as I was recharging." Ironhide gazed out into the forest. "I do not understand how it happened, but apparently, I had slipped into a memory of Eleanor's and, there, I saw Bumblebee sparring with the Seeker. He was the one that saved Eleanor. He is the reason she remained alive."

"Ah, I see." Optimus took a step forward, contemplating. He did not ask about the strange anomaly that had occurred, and for that, Ironhide felt immense gratitude. "And what did Owen say about this?"

Ironhide scoffed. "He informed me to say nothing to her, but his judgement is wrong! The one thing that she desires is to know about us! About the Decepticons!"

"Very well," Optimus said. He swiveled around to gaze down at Ironhide. "Now, forgive my brashness, Ironhide, but is this about Eleanor or is it about you?"

Halting in shock, Ironhide asked, "What do you mean, Prime?"

A sigh parted his boss's mouth. "I mean, Ironhide, do you wish to tell her, so she is aware of our presence? So, she can prepare herself for the dangers of what should come should she involves herself with us? Or do you wish to tell her in a means to see how she reacts to knowing you are one of the monsters she is so very scared of?"

There was nothing that Ironhide could say to that, not for a cycle at least. Many times, his mind wandered to the reaction Eleanor would have should he inform her of his true identity. Many times, he thought of the repercussions, and he saw her, vicious and vengeful as she screamed how much she hated them. Hated him.

The very thought made him feel as though he ate too much flux, his processors warm, almost as though they're about to malfunction.

"I-" Ironhide has been rendered speechless. "I suppose it could be both."

He thought of Chromia's words of optimism, spoken so long ago it felt like centuries.

"You are not wrong for how you feel," she'd said before walking away.

Ironhide mulled that over in his mind. Part of him knew how deep his feelings of protectiveness for Eleanor ran. The other half of him wished to never acknowledge them as it would be too overwhelming, too much. If he allowed himself to believe he was fond for the human, he feared he may lose himself to how much of liability she could become if he pursued it.

He did not respond to Optimus, but he did blatantly lie to Eleanor's face when he returned to her side that night.

The expression of heartbreak etched on her face was worse than someone ripping Ironhide's spark out. When she did not speak to him, it felt as though someone stomped on it, right before his very eyes.

Frag, frag, frag.


You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net