"Ironhide!"

He heard Bluestreak shouting his name but it sounded so far off, as if they were miles apart instead of several meters. Somehow he felt strangely detached from the whole scenario that was playing out around him, pain surging throughout his entire body. Once again, his fellow Autobots were engaged in yet another ferocious battle with the Decepticons – he knew as much. In front of him stood Starscream, the Decepticon second pointing one of his infamous null rays at him. Ironhide knew he needed to react, to do something before the Decepticon jet could do any more damage to him, but he could not move. He felt paralyzed, trapped, and it terrified Ironhide for he had not felt such emotions in many millennia.

The Seeker smirked at him, and his malicious grin triggered something within Ironhide, a memory that been buried many, many vorns ago. It was as if he sensed a victory over Ironhide. Then he blasted Ironhide again and again until all the old Mech remained aware of was a strange sense of falling and a looming darkness . . .

888888888

"Hey, Ironhide! Whatcha doin'?"

Ironhide smiled faintly as he walked by Nightstream, a good friend of his. He was not having a good day, and he really was not in the mood to deal with others, not with his short temper. However, Nightstream had this enthusiasm to him that always seemed to cheer people.

"Heading to the docks, Nightstream," he replied. "What else do you think I'd be doing?"

"Oh . . ." Nightstream looked crestfallen for exactly one astro second then he brightened right up again. "Your shift isn't going to be very long, is it?"

"Shouldn't be. Why?" he inquired.

"Just curious, mainly . . . I was wondering if you'd like to catch one of the gladiator shows with me later on."

Something about this suggestion somehow seemed wrong to Ironhide, but he could not identify what it was. He dismissed the notion almost immediately. After all, Nightstream was a friend, and it was not unusual for friends to do things together. Ironhide really was not in the mood for general carousing, and he had made a promise to his older brother to stay in for the evening.

"Not today, Nightstream," he replied, shaking his head. "I promised Stealth I'd help him with his project for the Academy."

"Maybe some other time then?"

"Some other time," Ironhide promised.

"Great!" The other Mech grinned. "I'll see you later then!"

"See you later, Nightstream."

As he walked away, Ironhide noted Nightstream's hopeful expression. Like his suggestion, something about the other Mech's features seemed wrong. Ironhide could not figure out why. He just knew that something negative screamed out about Nightstream, but, as with the suggestion, Ironhide dismissed his misgivings. He considered Nightstream to be a friend and nothing more.

When he arrived at the docks, the first 'bot Ironhide saw was Pyro talking to a group of Mechs. Instantly he scowled. Pyro was the last Mech Ironhide wanted to see at that moment. He still had not forgiven Pyro for their argument a few cycles before, even though it had been a stupid fight to say the least.

Pyro was a tall Mech, ashen grey in colour with a dark green trim, and he also had the most intense blue optics of anyone Ironhide had ever met. He had a quiet personality, but he also had a fiery temper when needed dictated. When he became passionate about something and started to talk, everyone listened. Like Ironhide, he did not have much patience for those who used a lot of fancy terms when talking. In Ironhide's opinion, talk was simply just that. Talk. Actions spoke louder than words anyway.

Ironhide and Pyro, however, were constantly arguing with each other because of their similar attitudes. After a few heated words and insults, punches would be thrown, and it would take several Mechs to tear them off of each other. More barbs would be traded and the two would leave each other alone until they had cooled off and apologized for their bad behaviours. The same situation had happened a few cycles before, but Ironhide was determined to not apologize right away to his friend. He felt he had done so more often than his friend had, and it was time Pyro made the first move.

With a stiff and cool attitude, Ironhide walked over to his station and prepared himself for another exciting day of absolutely nothing. There had been talk of energy thieves lately, but no one had attacked the docking unit where Ironhide worked. It was as if the culprits knew about the place's systems and were too afraid to attack. As a security Mech and a lack of activity, there was not a lot for him to do.

"Ironhide . . ."

"What is it, Pyro?"

It took everything he had to not snap at his friend. Slowly, he turned to face the other Mech, his optics cold. If Pyro seemed hurt by this reaction, he didn't let it show. The lack of emotion only served to further irritate Ironhide.

Pyro started to say something but, as if he thought the better of it, shook his head. He let out a soft sigh.

"Nothing. It's nothing important. Don't worry about it."

For a nano-second, Ironhide thought Pyro had come to apologize to him, but the idea did not last long. From years of associating with the other Mech, he had learned all of Pyro's facial expressions, and his friend did not wear the apologetic one. He let out a growl.

"Say it. Whatever the slag it is, just say it and get it over with, Pyro."

"When you're not quite so angry, Ironhide," Pyro retorted. "I should have known better than to approach you when you're in a rotten mood."

"So why did you then?" he cajoled. He hated it when Pyro did this. It was like a huge mind game for the Mech.

"I don't know," Pyro stated quietly. "I really don't. Just do me a favour, though, and watch your back, Ironhide. Some 'bots are not always what they seem."

"Is that a threat?"

"No." Pyro was surprised. "It's a warning. You're my friend, Ironhide, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Hurt?" he echoed. "Pyro, what the slag are you babbling about? Why are you being so evasive?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Pyro! Ironhide! Get to work!" their supervisor shouted. "That energon isn't going to protect itself, you know!"

"I'll talk to you later, Ironhide. Remember what I said. Okay?"

Pyro walked away, leaving Ironhide to wonder what was going on. He then shook his head and turned back to the security monitors. He would think about it later, if he wanted. He had a job to do in the meantime, and he was not about to waste his time pondering cryptic words from someone who did not even have the decency to explain himself. It only angered Ironhide further.

Several cycles passed, and the feud between him and Pyro had only worsened. During that time, Stealth swore up and down he was staying out of the whole affair and that he did. The first chance he got, Stealth hightailed to Iacon, leaving Ironhide on his own. With Stealth gone, it only left Nightstream as Ironhide's confidante, and even that made Ironhide uneasy.

One night, after a very severe argument and fistfight with Pyro, Ironhide had gone to Nightstream's apartment. The other Mech listened as Ironhide vented about what he felt to be idiocy on his best friend's part. However, Ironhide was not so upset that he failed to notice the way Nightstream watched him, and there was something in his friend's optics that once again made him uncomfortable. He still ignored the sensation. Nightstream was his friend and he was listening, which was more than what Ironhide felt he could say about Pyro.

Finally, Ironhide was exhausted. He had ranted and ranted until the anger had left him, and his hands were sore from punching the walls every now and then. With a long and heavy sigh, he sat down in one of the chairs.

"You know what you need, Ironhide?" Nightstream asked once he had calmed down. Ironhide shook his head.

"No. What?"

"A little fun and relaxation," the other Mech stated cheerfully. "Come with me to the gladiator arenas. It'll be fun!"

Ironhide hesitated. He had delayed in going with his friend to the arenas for quite some time. The whole idea always seemed wrong and it still did. He just felt very uncomfortable in going anywhere with Nightstream. This time, however, he could not think of any reason as to why he could not go. Nightstream already knew Stealth was at Iacon and about the day's fight with Pyro. The other Mech would keep on asking until Ironhide finally relented. With a shrug, he did just that.

"Sure. Why not?" He smiled.

"Great! There's a match taking place in about ten breems. If we leave now, we can still get some good seats."

Nightstream got up and hurried out the door. Ironhide followed him, albeit with some reluctance. He had heard about the gladiator fights, and they sounded like they were exciting to watch. Of course, his source of information was Nightstream, and Ironhide knew the definitions of "fun" and "exciting" depended entirely on a 'bot's interest.

When he stepped outside, he saw that Nightstream had already flagged down a more personal-sized transport vehicle, and he was waiting inside. Squashing all of his self-doubts and irrational discomfiture, Ironhide climbed into the transport. The events that followed were ones Ironhide would never forget, no matter how hard he tried.

They had arrived at Polyhex for the next gladiator match with plenty of time to spare. While Ironhide found them some seats, Nightstream went after drinks. The first match had a newcomer to the scene of gladiator fighting, one silver Mech by the name of Megatron, and it turned out to be a spectacular round. However, after a couple of energon drinks, Ironhide started to feel light-headed and dizzy. He could barely keep himself sitting upright, as if he had over-energized or something.

"Is something wrong, Ironhide?" Nightstream asked.

"N-no," he stammered, the words barely forming in his mind. "I'm fine."

Nightstream looked at him, an unusual gleam in his optics.

"Your injuries," he began.

"Are nothing," Ironhide quickly stated, stumbling a little over the words. "I'm fine. Really."

"Ironhide, I think we should get you out of here. You're tired, and you've already been in one fight today. You need some rest."

Before he could protest any further, Ironhide found himself on his feet and being led out of the stadium by Nightstream. Standing upright and moving caused him to become even more light-headed and dizzy. He just wanted to stop and rest, but Nightstream continued on, as if he weren't paying any attention to his weariness.

The other Mech also walked at a crazy pace. Ironhide stumbled more and more as he struggled to keep up with Nightstream. He was even having difficulty in keeping his air intakes working properly. It was as if someone had started to choke him though he knew he was not being strangled. Finally, he blacked out, not even noticing as Nightstream took him back to his apartment and carried him inside.

When he opened his optics some time later, Ironhide was aware of an ache in his head and in his hands. His air intakes still were not functioning properly, and he something was wrong, terribly wrong. A few drinks did not have such an effect on a 'bot. As much as he despised the thought, Ironhide knew he needed a medic and fast.

"Glad to see you're finally awake," a voice purred, kissing him lightly on the cheek. Confused, Ironhide lifted his head to see Nightstream stretched out beside him. The other Mech had a feral and hungry-looking expression.

"Nightstream? What . . . what's going on?" Ironhide gasped out. Despite the fact he had just come to, it was still difficult for him to keep his optics open. Of course, he was not sure if he wanted to keep them open. His vision blurred and the room spun. His instincts were screaming he was in danger, but he felt too . . . heavy to do anything about it. Ironhide tried to raise a hand to rub at his optics . . . only to find himself restrained. Alarmed, he struggled to sit up, to fight.

"What's going on, my dear friend, is the chance for us to finally be ourselves with each other," Nightstream murmured. "It's about time it was just the two of us. I hope you don't mind the restraints, but I'm feeling in the mood for something different."

Nightstream said something else as well, but Ironhide did not catch it. His air intakes had practically stopped working, and Nightstream's weight settling on top him smothered him even more. Blind panic overtook him, and he fought to dislodge the other Mech as he started to understand what was happening. Pain then lanced through every portion of his body, and his warning systems screamed at him for the amount of his stress he was enduring. Ironhide tried to say something to Nightstream about his predicament. All that came out of him, however, was some kind of a choking noise, and he blacked out for a final time . . .

"Ironhide? Ironhide, open your optics, slaggit. Open them!"

"Primus, he's a mess! What the hell happened to him?"

"I think I know, but I'll explain in a moment. Slaggit, Ironhide, open your optics! Come on! You can't do this!"

Ironhide heard Pyro's voice and the urgency in it, but he could not quite bring himself to open his optics. Pan still danced throughout him, and he was not even sure it was Pyro he heard. For all he knew, Nightstream had disguised his voice and was trying to lure him into consciousness for another round.

"Ironhide, you've got to open your optics. Now! Please!"

Whimpering softly (and disgusted with himself for doing so) as the pain continued to assault him, Ironhide opened his optics to a blinding glare of lights and to a very concerned Pyro and Stealth standing over him. Relief washed over their facial expressions as soon as they saw him open his optics.

"Thank Primus!" Stealth exclaimed. "We thought we'd lost you! You were barely alive when we got in here."

"W-what happened?" Ironhide grimaced as spoke. Even talking hurt.

Stealth glanced at Pyro, also looking for an explanation. The ash-grey Mech did not speak right away, but Ironhide could tell something was wrong. He knew from the way Pyro's optics glittered a bright and burning sapphire.

"I think Nightstream gave you something in your energon," he answered, "and it almost killed you. A couple of the 'bots from the docks are looking for him now. He isn't going to get away with what he's done to you, Ironhide. I can promise you that."

"And how did you know to find me?" Ironhide asked. He still ached and he wanted nothing more than to rest.

"I was at the gladiator fights when you were. I tried to tell myself that I didn't care, and I almost didn't stop by." Pyro's tone was soft. "But I had to make sure you were all right. You're my friend, and I'll always be your friend, no matter what. I'll make Nightstream pay. I promise."

Ironhide nodded and smiled a little at Pyro's words, but he knew things were no longer going to be the same. Not after what Nightstream had done to him. Nightstream had stolen something from him, something very precious, and it was something he would never be able to regain.

"Not if I get to him first," Ironhide murmured. He closed his optics and fought back the despair and sadness that threatened to overwhelm him . . .

888888888

Ironhide groaned as consciousness returned to him. He really did not want to wake up just yet.

"Ooh, what the slag hit me?"

"One Decepticon Seeker named Starscream and one Decepticon leader named Megatron. I swear, Ironhide, you're going to be the death of me yet," Ratchet replied, his tone tired yet glib at the same time. "And you're to take it easy for a while. You, Jazz, and Prowl are going to be keeping each other company for a while as the three of you are now out of commission for at least two weeks. Thank you oh so much for the job security." The medic paused. "And that does mean I am not done with your repairs, Ironhide. No sneaking off. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Ironhide replied. He opened his optics and was greeted by the orange walls and soft lights of Repair Bay. The memory of the battle lingered along the edges of his mind, along with his memories of Nightstream and Pyro.

Pyro had been true to his word as he'd been able. He personally fought Nightstream, catching up with the other Mech before Ironhide could, and Pyro fought with the purpose of extracting vengeance for Ironhide. Unfortunately for Pyro, the battle had nearly cost him his life. In order to save Pyro, Stealth had built him a new body, but things had never been the same for either of them. Ironhide no longer trusted those he did not know well, and his temper had evened out a little. He and Pyro also no longer fought as they used to do, though that was for the better. They had remained as confidantes and very close friends, even now, and there was one friend Ironhide needed to check on. As quietly as he could, he swung his legs over the side of the medical berth.

'It's true what they say,' he thought as he snuck out of Repair Bay. Ratchet was busy checking on Prowl and Jazz so it was easier for Ironhide to slip out relatively unnoticed. 'You can never go back to the way things used to be.'

As quickly and as carefully as he could, Ironhide made his way to Optimus Prime's office. He had to know how things had turned out and whether or not his leader and best friend were okay. He would endure Ratchet's wrath later.

Once he was inside Prime's office, Ironhide saw that his leader was recharging, his head on the desk. By the looks of it, though, Prime was not resting peacefully. His body jerked every now and then, and he grunted softly every so often.

'I better wake him up . . .'

"Prime . . ."

He began to shake Optimus gently, but, for some reason, the Autobot leader refused to stir. Ironhide frowned and shook his head. It was very reminiscent of when Optimus first became Prime and took little "cat naps" back on Cybertron. He had been hard to wake then, too. Grasping his leader's shoulder firmly, Ironhide shook him again, this time rougher. This time, he got a reaction.

"Prime, are ya okay?"

Slowly, Optimus opened his optics and lifted his head up. He seemed a little disoriented to Ironhide.

"Ironhide? What . . ."

"Shhh," he whispered. "Ratchet'd kill me if he knew I snuck out of Repair Bay. He's not quite finished with his repairs , but they're ones that can wait for the moment."

"Ironhide, sit down."

"Prime, I'm fine," he protested, which was not exactly the truth, but Ironhide was not concerned about himself. That was how he had been ever since Pyro nearly died.

"Fine or not, I want you to sit down. That's an order," Prime said. "If you think Ratchet would kill you for sneaking out, he'd definitely have my head if I let you collapse."

Optimus had a point so Ironhide complied with order rather grudgingly. Now that he saw Optimus was okay, Ironhide wanted to tell him about Nightstream, which his friend knew nothing about, but something held Ironhide back. Optimus seemed preoccupied by something, and Ironhide was not willing to drop a shocking revelation such as that on his best friend. Instead, he watched his leader and noticed the subtle way in which Optimus glanced over his desk.

"So what happened during the battle?" Prime asked. Ironhide thought it to be a rather odd question, but he figured Prime wanted to know how Starscream and Megatron got the drop on him. He shrugged.

"Not entirely sure, Prime," he answered tiredly. "Something hit me. That much I do recall and then I felt warm. But that's about all I remember."

He fell silent and watched Optimus, just as Optimus watched him. Of course, Ironhide recalled many things throughout his long life. Many of those events had various impacts on him, but none had been greater than when his greatest friend had been transformed from a fiery personality ready to take on what life sent his way to a logical one, and he had lost his naiveté.

'Amazing how one Mech can change so many,' he thought. Then he noticed Prime was smiling to himself. He could not see the smile through the faceplate, but it was there, in his optics.

'Something's up.'

"Prime, are you all right?"

"Just fine, Ironhide," Optimus replied. "Never better. I better get you back to Repair Bay, though, before Ratchet tears the base apart looking for you.

Knowing it was pointless, Ironhide still protested as Optimus guided him back to Repair Bay, but he took comfort in knowing he had true friends in Prime, Jazz, and Prowl. There were some things no one could ever take away.