Well, what can I say? Just a little one-shot inspired by a single line of dialogue from the new 'Transformers: The Last Knight' movie. It does tie in to 'The Catalyst' universe very strongly and will probably make very little sense if you are not at least somewhat familiar with that story. And hopefully it isn't too spoilerish... Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

It was not very often that one had the opportunity to watch Ironhide in action without the fear of being shot at out on a battlefield, so now that Ratchet stood idle waiting to help the Autobot weapons specialist with a training exercise that taught new recruits some basic fighting skills, he took a moment to truly appreciate where he was at that moment.

The war was still going on, yes, and life as usual as a field medic would resume as soon as this orn was over, but for right now he could simply enjoy the temporary escape.

Ironhide had taken a short break before sparring again, and Ratchet merely waited a short distance away from the group of young Autobots he would be training next. Ratchet did not usually have to do much, just assist Ironhide in showing anything that might require a second mech, but for the most part he could just sit back and watch. Which suited the chartreuse medic just fine, as even after all the decavorns he had been with Ironhide, the skilled fighter was still extremely impressive to watch in action.

And when nothing was going on, like now, Ratchet usually just allowed himself to become lost in his own thoughts. It was one of the few moments where he had time to reflect privately on whatever was on his mind.

But then, a sage-green mech amongst the small group of recruits suddenly caught Ratchet's attention.

Ratchet had seen countless young warriors come to training sessions like this, and although the seasoned medic was very much internally—and secretly—ashamed of the fact that he did not make more of an effort to learn who they were or to remember them once the training was over, he knew that this mech was one he would not forget. In fact, he had recognized him because he had been checking up on the youngling ever since the mech had first came into the world. Not very often, but every now and then. Just so he could know how he was doing.

It was Ironhide's sparkling, Hound.

Ratchet did not watch him for too long as he did not want to draw attention, but the bulky mech certainly did have the air of Ironhide, the veteran's strength and eagerness, but in an unrefined, almost raw kind of way. Ratchet found himself wondering if his own partner, Hound's biological carrier, the black weapons specialist himself, had been that way when he was younger, or if those traits had come from... well, Hound's sire.

"When are we starting?" one of the trainees asked the other members of his group. "My father is calling me again to see how things are going."

"You can have a few breems," Ratchet spoke up, answering the question for him. "We'll begin shortly."

Ironhide walked up to the medic just as the young mech thanked him and stepped away from the group.

"I told him we'll start in a few breems," Ratchet explained to the weapons specialist.

Ironhide merely nodded. This would be the weapons specialist's third training session that orn, and Ratchet knew that the mech would be in no hurry to get started.

"My father never called me," Hound interjected, speaking to his teammates. "Funny that he complains about it."

"Hound, dude, you were adopted by a femme couple," one of the other young mechs, a reddish warrior, pointed out. "You didn't have a father."

Ratchet shot a quick glance at Ironhide, the black mech certainly having caught the designation. That was all Ironhide knew of his sparkling, as he had for some reason vehemently denied being given any other information about him. Why he had done that, Ratchet did not know.

But Ironhide's gaze was focused on the green mech now, and Ratchet knew it would be his first time seeing his offspring.

"Yeah, I know that," Hound retorted humorously. "I meant my real father. He never once tried contacting me."

At that statement Ratchet felt a pang of guilt, even though it was probably more out of empathy for Ironhide than anything else. He glanced at the weapons specialist again, trying to gauge what the black mech might be feeling, but his face was stone cold and unreadable.

And although the training session proceeded just fine, Ratchet knew that something was bothering Ironhide.

/* * */

Ironhide had seemed disengaged for the remainder of the orn, and although Ratchet had done his usual of giving the mech some time and space to gather his thoughts and waiting for him to open up on his own, this time the mech had not. And when it was time to retire to their quarters for the night, Ratchet knew that he would have to bring it up. Ironhide had had issues like this before

He found the weapons specialist leaning with one hand against the wall, and the other partially covering his face. He did not even look up as Ratchet entered the room.

Ratchet walked over to him, speaking gently. "'Hide, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," was the clipped response, Ironhide still not even turning to look at him.

Ratchet put a hand on his shoulder. "Ironhide, he didn't mean it like that. They were just kidding around. I'm sure you could tell."

But Ironhide shied away from the medic, apparently the physical contact not being something he wanted right then. "He was right, I never even tried."

Suddenly Ironhide swung around and punched the wall, though it did not do much damage. "I never even wanted to try."

Ratchet could practically hear the pain in Ironhide's usually stoic voice, and he resolved to try reassure the larger mech even though it was probably to no avail. Ironhide always let things eat away at him more than he would let on, and Ratchet knew that the weapons specialist had felt extremely guilty about the situation with Hound since before the mech had even been born.

"Easy, 'Hide," Ratchet tried again to lightly put his hand on Ironhide's shoulder. "It's all right. You did the best you could. You really did."

"Did I?" Ironhide shot back, though he did not pull away from Ratchet's hand this time. And the fact that he had barely damaged the wall meant that he was still showing some restraint.

"Yes, you did. You protected him. You are still protecting him."

Ironhide did turn to face Ratchet then, and Ratchet could see the tears streaming down his scarred face. Ironhide was not one to cry, or at the very least not in the presence of others—even his own partner, if he could help it—but it must have been too much for him this time. He turned away again after a few moments.

Ratchet was not sure what else he could say to the pained mech, so he simply said the first thing that came to his processor. "Ironhide, I won't lie to you. I can't even imagine what you are going through or what you have gone through, but I can say that Hound had the best upbringing he could, and although he doesn't know you for who are you are to him, you still did bring him into this world and he certainly does have the best traits of you. You have not failed in any way, and I will always be here to support you, in anything you wish to do."

Ironhide was silent for a long moment but then he let out a sigh, a sign that Ratchet had learned meant he was calming down at least slightly. "Ratchet, I don't deserve you. Really, I don't."

Ratchet smiled gently. "The fact that you don't think you do is exactly why you do," he responded, guiding his partner away from the wall. "Come on. Let's get some rest."