Title: The Lonely
Author: Mademoiselle Juko Pax-Prime
Rating: PG
Summary: It has three days since Ironhide's death. So far, Chromia has handled the news with grace and dignity.
Content/Warnings: Robot angst.
Feedback: I would love lots of feedback! Because feedback=a happy, better writer.
Spoilers: A few for Dark of the Moon.
Disclaimer: I do not and never will own Transformers. This was made purely for fun. I do not own the song "The Lonely" or its artist, Christina Perri.
A/N: Thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Life Is A Highway66!
"To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven." –Karen Sunde
It has been three days since Ironhide's death. So far, Chromia has handled the news with grace and dignity. At first glance, it looks as if nothing ever happened and she is perfectly normal. But that is not true.
Chromia well remembers when she and Ironhide first met. It was at the Autobot base, just before the war began. She had just been recruited by Elita-One herself. She was nervous, but her tough personality helped hide the fact.
Ironhide was new as well, and they were seated across from each other at the long, boring "new recruit" meeting. All the recruits had been asked to introduce themselves, and Chromia found Ironhide's drawling speech both tough and charming.
She did her best to keep her optics on Optimus and Elita, but every so often, her gaze would stray to the other side of the table. Sometimes, he would be watching her as well, and Chromia would quickly avert her gaze.
Once the meeting finally ended, Ironhide introduced himself to Chromia again.
The two of them were fast friends, and soon earned fame as two of the toughest Autobots on the base.
Yes, to strangers, she seems unfazed. But to those who know her, she is not.
Two A.M
Where do I begin?
Moonracer misses the old Chromia. She misses the laughter, the fiery spirit, the courage, the strength, the passion for living. There is none of that now. Only an empty shell remains of the Chromia that Moonracer once knew.
Crying off my face again
This new Chromia is listless. She goes about her daily business, but with very little reaction to anything. She hardly speaks, even to Elita-One.
Before Ironhide's unjust death, Chromia had been Elita's right-hand femme; someone she could rely on and trust. Her comrade. Her sister. Her best friend. Not anymore. Now there was a drone that simply bore Chromia's appearance.
The silent sound of loneliness wants to follow me to bed
Another night. Chromia makes her way to their—no. Her bay. She raises her hand and puts it on the door, like she has so many times before, but she does not push it open.
Her processors register the door as just metal under her fingertips. But her spark tells her that it is so much more.
I'm a ghost of a girl that I want to be most
She slowly moves her hand upward until she feels a dent. She looks at the depression for a moment, remembering what put it there. She had slammed the door literally on Ironhide during a fight almost four years ago. She can not even recall what they were fighting about; only that she had refused to let him in and he had sat in the hall all night.
The corners of her mouth twitch upwards as she remembers how he apologized with a poem he wrote himself. Of course, writing was not the weapons specialist's strong point. But she thought the poem was beautiful nonetheless.
I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well
Dancing slowly in an empty room
The silence presses on her audio receptors almost painfully. Her hand drops to her side.
She knows what awaits her behind the door, and she dreads it… A data pad listing a million and one weapon repairs, but no specialist to tend to them. A recharge berth built for two, but only a sad blue femme to lay on it. A love without a lover.
Can the lonely take the place of you?
Chromia's hand clenches momentarily into a fist. She sits down, and the cold from the concrete floor seeps into her body. She looks at the door, slightly confused. It remains closed, but she wants it to open. She wants to walk through it and recharge, but something holds her back. What?
I sing myself a quiet lullaby
Let you go and let the lonely in
She feels her spark pulsing, giving her life. She feels the energon inside her, flowing through her veins. But there is something missing; something she desperately needs.
The arms of her bonded, wrapped around her comfortingly, keeping her warm. His voice, telling her how he loves her. She is missing him.
Too afraid to go inside
For the pain of one more loveless night
Chromia pulls her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them. Her optics remain fixed on the door.
It is silent on the base, and she assumes that she is the only one awake. Memories of her sparkmate swim painfully to the surface of her mind, and she tries to push them away.
But the loneliness will stay with me
And hold me till I fall asleep
She continues to "look" at the door for what feels like hours, though she cannot be sure. She is motionless, except for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes in and out. She is so absorbed in a world of nothing that she does not hear the footsteps coming her way.
A hand touches her shoulder, and Chromia looks up to see Elita-One. The pink femme's optics are worried.
"You're crying."
Broken pieces of
A barely breathing story
Chromia raises a hand to her face, and finds that Elita's words are true. She looks at the damp spots on her fingertips for a moment, and then buries her face in both hands.
Where there once was love
Elita sits down beside her friend, and wraps her in a hug. She feels Chromia's shoulders shaking. Her own optics mist over.
Now there's only me
And the lonely
The two femmes do not move for a long time. Finally, Chromia speaks. Her words are slightly muffled.
"I miss him," she whispers. "So much."
"I know," says Elita. There is the slightest tremor in her voice. "I know."
Dancing slowly in an empty room
"We all do."
Can the lonely take the place of you?
But no one can know the pain that Chromia endures.
I sing myself a quiet lullaby
Let you go and let the lonely in
To take my heart again
R.I.P Ironhide