AWAKE AND ALIVE × TRANSFORMERS IRONHIDE ×

~Prologue~

Explosions.

Fire.

Rust.

Pain.

Pain!

Ironhide held up his metallic servo with what remained of his quickly fading strength, rusted and covered in blue Energon.

His internal display was showing him as his vitals as they faded downwards worryingly.

He was dying.

"..What have you done?!" A cry of shock and betrayal escaped his mouth, a little running Energon escaping with it.

Ironhide shrieked out in pain once more as he stumbled, falling flat on his stomach as more spilled Energon pooled around his form, as his bloody metal servo tried to help himself scramble to fight. Rapid footsteps were all around him, swirling. They were of the soldiers fleeing, none trying to save him but themselves.

More footsteps, heavier ones came up behind him. 'Hide desperately tried to find the strength to stand. To fight. To live.

Forcing himself to lift his helm, Ironhide was met with the sight of an enclosing gun nose and Sentinel's optics glowing dark with murderous intent.

"I hereby discharge you from duty." The traitorous Prime's bellowing voice spoke without remorse.

"NO!--" Was all Ironhide could scream over the final gunshot.

Further pain flooded his entire body violently, and more Energon pooled around him as he grunted in agony. His vitals declined even more rapidly.

This was the end for him.

He turned his gaze to the smokey sky, his metal servo now rusting away with the rest of him. He groaned and gives sounds of agony.

As Sentinel left, the old Weapons Specialist was left with the sounds of his own decay, and screams of agony and death. Distant, and his.

Strength seemed like a distant memory to him now, as he just felt tired. Fading. Fading fast...

Internal systems were failing and he couldn't control anything now. His vital statistics on screen were critically low.

Not by his own will, but by some kind of feeble final effort his doomed body was making, words appeared on the booting screen: "Holoform Program."

0%.

10%

'POWER RUNNING LOW. SEEK MEDICAL ADVICE.'

50%

'CRITICAL POWER FAILURE.'

80%...

He could barely keep his optics open how and he couldn't feel anything below his chassis.

95%

'POWER FAILED. INITIALISING SHUTDOWN.'

And that was the last thing that the high and mighty Ironhide, one of the most feared Autobots ever to live, saw before his body functioned it's last.

×××

Time passed. Much time. Enough for the battle to be over.

Chicago was destroyed. The traitor Sentinel Prime was dead. The remaining Autobots scattered to the winds.

Smoke and ash filled the air at the destroyed NEST site, rubble and debris everywhere. Months had passed at least now, as even though smoke still clung to the air the site was beginning to settle, moss and grass was starting to grow within the cracks. The whole area seemed abandoned. Forgotten just like the Autobot-Human alliance.

Until there was movement.

Beneath one of the heaps of rock and rubble movement became clear. Slow and groggy at first, but then more distinct and deliberate.

For another moment, all was quiet once more.

Then a sharp, breathless gasp of life is heard as a figure sharply moves under the rubble. Like the life was returning to him with that deep, needing inhale.

At that moment, Ironhide came back to consciousness for the first time in months.

But he wasn't how he once was.

He outstretched his hand weakly as the old soldier forced himself to move. He'd been so close to death, he couldn't stop now. Not if he wanted Sentinel to have succeeded.

Light hit his eyes from the cracks in the rubble, and he swore that his breath was ragged. Which was weird... Cybertronians don't breathe. And his body did feel quite strange now...

Then he saw it.

His bloody and bruised hand, stretching out slowly, fingers digging into the dust covered ground in an attempt to pull himself from the rubble. A human hand. His holoform's to be precise.

A pained and surprised yelp escaped his lips as he blinked his eyes a few times to clear his vision and recall what had just happened. And his predicament now. Stuck in holoform apparently, that was just great--

His memory came back slowly, images from the attack, he falling to the floor as everyone important to him fled without trying to help..

And his body...

'Hide slowly realized what kind of rubble he lay amongst.

He was lay within its remains.

Ironhide's breath hitched in his throat as he quickly forced himself to snap out of it. He seemed moderately distressed by the memory, eyebrows furrowed, but seemingly trying to hide his emotions. And to replace it with anger.

Body going rigid in agony his body seized up. He swore something cracked and shifted inside of his chest as he moved. And his chest felt wet...

His shirt was soaked in blood on both his chest and back. Not a good sign.

With an angered grunt, he forced himself to get on his knees, forcefully shifting the rubble around him. Shakily and obviously painfully he shoved himself into a standing position. He then carefully stepped from the pile of rubble and looked around the area to determine his next move.

Anyone that had been there was obviously long gone now. The condition of the site made that obvious, but there was still much he didn't know now. Where was Optimus? Where were his friends? Where could he go?.... Did they even know that he was alive?

The dark realization hit him. They had left without him. He'd seen Bumblebee shoot then flee with Sam and Lennox. The humans hadn't even bothered to try to save him, they'd just saved himself.

Pathetic species. He'd insisted that to Prime from the start.

He knew he had to carry on despite the pain he was in, and the unanswered questions he had. He wasn't safe here and it was only a matter of time before someone discovered that he survived. 

Ironhide slowly proceeded from his body, not looking back at his body. The site is fenced off but broken in places, allowing him escape. Pausing and gasping in pain, clutching a hand at his chest, when he pulled it away his holoform hand was red.

Finding shelter and patching himself up was priority.

Small blood drops fell behind him in his wake, leaving a crimson trail behind on the road behind him as he slowly trudged away from the base, his last known home. His droopy eyes scanned the ash roads ahead unsurely. Everything was different now.

Ironhide, one of the most feared Autobots to have ever lived, was completely alone.