1982

[not_toothfairy]

It's a long slagging way to Earth from where Cybertron used to be. Most of the trip is in the past by now. When you're an organism that measures its lifespan in numbers that require scientific notation by human standards, a couple of decades left hardly mean anything at all.

Or they shouldn't mean anything at all, anyway. Nobody ever makes it to the end of the trip as placid as they were in the middle- and Ironhide's got another reason to look forward to Earth now. One that he figures deserves a crack at coming out of stasis lock once in a while.

"Hey, you," are the first words Bob hears when Ironhide reactivates his particular unit of storage. "Wake up. It's been ten years."

Comments

[mendanddefend_archive]

"I need sleep, yeah. You'll like me a lot less if I don't get any, trust me."

[not-toothfairy.livejournal.com]

Ironhide grunts, which on this data connection level manifests as a minor positive pulse. "All right. I'll be around when you wake up."

He has no intention of going into stasis lock while his passenger is active.

[mendanddefend_archive]

"Thank you."

The floor isn't the most comfortable space in the world, but Bob's slept in worse places. The Guardian curls up on the floor and closes his eyes.

Within nanos, he's off to sleep.