TF: The End
Rating: PG-13
Series: G1
Pairings: Prowl/Ironhide
Summary: The last voyage.
Warnings: Character death (TF:TM)
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten…
Authors Notes: For the tf_rare_pairing June Challenge prompt - End of It All.
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
He’d been itching for something to do. After so long fighting, sitting and watching didn’t suit him. So when Optimus said he was to take a shuttle to Earth, he jumped at the chance.
When he reached the shuttle, Prowl was already waiting for him.
“Ya heard then?” He asked.
“Of course.” Prowl gave him a slight smile. “Never were happy just sitting around, were you?”
“Never. Not unless you were with me.”
“Well, I’m with you now.” Prowl turned and boarded the shuttle.
“Yer coming with me?”
“Yes, as are Ratchet and Brawn. Ratchet needs to get some more supplies from Earth and Brawn…” Prowl trailed off. Windcharger was still stationed on Earth, and it was no secret that the pair of them had been lovers for years.
“Brawn wants ta go have some fun.” Ironhide laughed. “I don’t blame him. Think we can get some fun in too?”
“It’s a long trip…” Was all Prowl would say as he made his way to the front console and began running pre-flight checks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The shuttle shuddered, as though hit by some unseen force. Ironhide glanced at Prowl, only to receive a shrug. Then warnings blared out as the hull was breached.
“Megatron!” Brawn was up and out of his seat before the others realised what was happening.
Prowl’s first shot startled the Decepticons. Whether they hadn’t expected anyone to shoot back, he didn’t bother to analyse. All he knew was that the Decepticons were on the ship, and they were outnumbered.
Scavenger’s shot was a lucky shot, ripping right through his armor and damaging his spark casing. Without the protection its casing afforded, his spark guttered, and he fell to the floor, chassis smoking.
Ironhide stayed seated, horror rushing through his spark. Prowl was dead. His spark mourned the loss of its other half. With a growl, he stood and fired. Ratchet was already firing. It was a blur of weapons fire and the noise was deafening. His systems didn’t register the first shot, nor the second or third. The blast from Megatron toppled him to the floor, and he lay still, systems reeling. Megatron walked past, crowing over his plan to infiltrate Autobot City and Ironhide roused himself; he had to stop them. Grabbing hold of Megatron’s leg, he tried to haul himself up.
“Such heroic nonsense.” Ironhide’s last memories were of Megatron’s fusion canon going off at point blank range. And then nothing. The end of it all.