I Am A Soldier:

[12 hours after being placed in the stocks, they open, and an Autobot-turned-human drags himself to his feet.]

[He leaves a message, when he gets back to his room:]

Need a medic. Nothing serious. Just dislike leaking all over the place.

[Nothing else.]

[He closes the book.]

Headcount. Who all here remembers the Elegante? Speak up.

[There's a couple reasons for asking. The general headcount, and asking a few important questions that came up when he spoke to Zuko.]

Need to figure some things out.

Is this... the best punishment you can manage...? Hmn?

[Despite the obvious organic quality of his voice, which should be an indicator in and of itself, there's something else off about Ironhide's speech. He sounds hoarse - and, as if that weren't enough, he abruptly starts coughing into the comm. Several quick, harsh coughs, and an odd... high-pitched sound at the end.

Thanks, Captain.]

Something is wrong with the frame this time... intakes are... glitched. Internal heating... eugh.

Need more coverings... and recharge.

[There's static for a few moments, before the comm actually picks up the very subdued voice.]

Ratchet... I... need you. Please.

Help.

[All of the above fall under things he would never... ever... say over open comm lines like this. Thank you very much, Captain. There's a pause, but anyone with decent hearing can hear him muttering to something--or someone.]

It will be fine... going to be okay... quiet now.  I have you... Going to be fine... not going to hurt much longer... hush.


[Aren't auditory hallucinations fun? He has not left the hall the elevator dumped him into. And he likely won't on his own--thanks to being blind from Infected Passenger Spit, badly damaged, and with absolutely no sense of direction, the old boy's stuck on Deck 12.]