TG 'verse. Panacea's CR lab. Life after death.
"Here, look at these," said Ratchet as he brought Ironhide to the empty CR lab to show him two occupied tanks.
"Nice." Ironhide inspected them curiously. "But why ain't the folks in here pacin'?"
"Their creators don't know they exist yet."
Ironhide frowned at him. "I don't git it."
Ratchet shook his head with a smirk. "Look at them closer, lugnut."
Ironhide's frown deepened, but he turned back to look at the little red male and golden female who occupied the tanks. "Hey... this lil' gal looks a lot like...." He paused and looked at the male sparkling again, his optics widening. "What the...!"
"Yes," said Ratchet soberly. "Those are your creations. Chromia's started showing the strain of your being gone, so Pansy decided to try and give her someone to care for."
Ironhide blinked tears. "I would'a ben there if I could."
"I know," said Ratchet gently.
"Feels like a dirty trick, leavin' 'er ta take care 'a two younguns alone," the red spark frowned through his tears.
"She's strong. And because of them she'll be stronger."
Ironhide rested a hand on his son's tank. "The boss know their names?"
Ratchet nodded. "That's Starforge. The femme is Nova."
Ironhide looked toward his daughter. "Like the explosion."
Ratchet smiled slightly. "Yeah. It'll fit her."
"So she'll moren jes' look like 'er mama...." The expression on Ironhide's faceplate showed many things: regret, longing, love, but above all peace. He knew that if Primus and the Greater Creator allowed this then it was for the best. But it still didn't seem fair.
Ratchet just stood back in silence and let Ironhide look at the children he probably wouldn't meet for millions of years. The former CMO was thinking of other Ironhides and Chromias that he'd heard of in the Nexus, and wondering why it was that Ironhide seemed to never get to be a father to his creations. -Slagging war.-
Ironhide was silent for a few more moments, quietly memorizing those small faces, but then turned his head toward a commotion in the other room. "What'n tarnation's Wrek-gar doin' here?"
"Hmmm?" Ratchet looked up, then chuckled. "The same thing you are, only his is out of the tank."
Ironhide stared. "No.... That joker?"
"Yup."
"Guess that explains the tool dents in the walls." Ironhide turned back to Starforge.
Ratchet looked at said dents and sighed, feeling his usual bemusement at his daughter's temper.
* * *
The night shift passed in silence broken only by happy TV sounds from the next room, and then Ratchet gently put a hand on his brother's shoulder.
Ironhide stirred reluctantly. "Time ta go?"
"Yes," said Ratchet gently.
Ironhide nodded and bowed his head, then stepped back as both free sparks faded away.
"Nice." Ironhide inspected them curiously. "But why ain't the folks in here pacin'?"
"Their creators don't know they exist yet."
Ironhide frowned at him. "I don't git it."
Ratchet shook his head with a smirk. "Look at them closer, lugnut."
Ironhide's frown deepened, but he turned back to look at the little red male and golden female who occupied the tanks. "Hey... this lil' gal looks a lot like...." He paused and looked at the male sparkling again, his optics widening. "What the...!"
"Yes," said Ratchet soberly. "Those are your creations. Chromia's started showing the strain of your being gone, so Pansy decided to try and give her someone to care for."
Ironhide blinked tears. "I would'a ben there if I could."
"I know," said Ratchet gently.
"Feels like a dirty trick, leavin' 'er ta take care 'a two younguns alone," the red spark frowned through his tears.
"She's strong. And because of them she'll be stronger."
Ironhide rested a hand on his son's tank. "The boss know their names?"
Ratchet nodded. "That's Starforge. The femme is Nova."
Ironhide looked toward his daughter. "Like the explosion."
Ratchet smiled slightly. "Yeah. It'll fit her."
"So she'll moren jes' look like 'er mama...." The expression on Ironhide's faceplate showed many things: regret, longing, love, but above all peace. He knew that if Primus and the Greater Creator allowed this then it was for the best. But it still didn't seem fair.
Ratchet just stood back in silence and let Ironhide look at the children he probably wouldn't meet for millions of years. The former CMO was thinking of other Ironhides and Chromias that he'd heard of in the Nexus, and wondering why it was that Ironhide seemed to never get to be a father to his creations. -Slagging war.-
Ironhide was silent for a few more moments, quietly memorizing those small faces, but then turned his head toward a commotion in the other room. "What'n tarnation's Wrek-gar doin' here?"
"Hmmm?" Ratchet looked up, then chuckled. "The same thing you are, only his is out of the tank."
Ironhide stared. "No.... That joker?"
"Yup."
"Guess that explains the tool dents in the walls." Ironhide turned back to Starforge.
Ratchet looked at said dents and sighed, feeling his usual bemusement at his daughter's temper.
* * *
The night shift passed in silence broken only by happy TV sounds from the next room, and then Ratchet gently put a hand on his brother's shoulder.
Ironhide stirred reluctantly. "Time ta go?"
"Yes," said Ratchet gently.
Ironhide nodded and bowed his head, then stepped back as both free sparks faded away.