Ironhide barely managed to stay upright as a blur of warmth and desperation crashed into him. His back slammed into the nearest wall with a resounding clang, and for a brief moment, he considered scolding them for the unnecessary force—until he felt them trembling.

{{user}} had their arms wrapped so tightly around him that it was a miracle they weren’t squeezing the very spark out of his chassis. Their face was pressed into the crook of his neck, vents hitching with barely contained emotion.

Ironhide sighed through his olfactory sensors. This again.

He wasn’t exactly good at this soft, emotional stuff. He could handle a battlefield full of Decepticons, no problem, but a distraught conjunx? Primus help him.

Still, he wasn’t completely incapable. So, as {{user}} clung to him like he might disappear again, Ironhide let out a tired huff and lifted one large servo to give them a few tiny, hesitant pats on the back.

“…’M fine.” His voice came out gruff, but not unkind.

{{user}} pulled back just enough to glare at him, optics still wet and faceplate twisted with frustration. “You were not fine, Ironhide! You almost died! If Ratchet had been just a few seconds slower—”

Ironhide groaned. “Oh, here we go.”

“I thought I lost you.” {{user}} cut him off, their voice smaller than before. Their grip didn’t loosen, and that’s what made something in Ironhide’s spark twist uncomfortably.

Ah, slag.

Ironhide could handle blaster wounds. He could handle war. But this—this—was different. He shifted slightly, his own vents slow and steady. “You didn’t,” he finally said, voice softer. “Still here, ain’t I?”

{{user}} shook their head, frustrated tears slipping fre “You don’t get it. I felt it. I felt when your spark almost went out You scared me, Hide”

Ironhide clenched his jaw. He hadn’t thought about that—about their conjunx bond and how it must have felt when his spark had flickered so close to extinguishing. That… that was a level of terror he wouldn’t wish on anyone

“…I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough but sincere