Red Alert fic
A little fic for those who like Red Alert, again inspired by the Generator.. enjoy!
Title: Darkness
Prompt: Prowl / Red Alert / touch
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Implied Red Alert / Inferno and Prowl / Jazz
Summary: It's not Inferno hands, and it's not his touch, but Red Alert manages to relax anyway.
It’s never good to come out of stasis and be greeted by darkness. In fact, it’s downright scary, and for a while, you can only wonder if you’re really awake or if you’re still dreaming.
And when you realize you’re really awake, you begin to feel afraid.
“Red Alert? Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine.”
Prowl’s voice. An island of calm in a sea of chaos. And his hands on his arm, an anchor which holds him to the present, to reality.
It’s not Inferno hands, and it’s not his touch, but Red Alert manages to relax anyway. Prowl has this effect on him; he knows he can let him approach, he knows he’s not an enemy, he knows he’s not going to hurt him, ever.
Still, the darkness is scary, and he whimpers softly.
“Where... I am?”
His voice sounds strange and he has trouble pronouncing some words. Has his vocalizer suffered in some way?
“The Medbay. You were injured in the last battle. Do you remember?”
Yes. Now that Prowl is talking, he remembers. He remembers the way the Seekers took them apart (scattered them), shooting at them with everything they had. He remembers taking a shot in the face, and he’s surprised to still be alive, until he realizes it must have been a null ray from Starscream.
He remembers the shock and the pain.
And for a terrifying moment, he remembers Inferno going down, hit on the waist by a well placed shot from one of the Decepticons.
It’s only the hands of Prowl on his shoulders, which stop him from sitting up and looking around in panic, even if he can’t use his optics.
His touch does wonders, but no miracles.
“In...Inferno...”
“Still offline. Don’t worry”, Prowl adds, “he’s going to make it. Nothing vital was damaged, but he had to undergo surgery. Ratchet said he would probably come online in a few joors.”
Red Alert lets out a sigh of relief. For a second, he had thought...
“Why...why can’t I see?”
“Starscream’s last shot damaged your optics and messed with a good half of your sensors,” answers the tactician with a hint of sympathy. “Ratchet and Wheeljack are still working on new ones.”
“Should I be... worried or relieved?” He manages to say, wincing a little at hearing the static produced by his damaged vocalizer.
He hears Prowl chuckle. It’s a nice sound and he wishes he could hear it more often, but he knows it’s not likely to happen around him. Around Jazz, perhaps, especially if they are alone, and before they end up in one room together.
He doesn’t know if they do it anyway or if they just talk and go to recharge in each other's arms, like he and Inferno often do. He never allows the cameras to watch when they are alone together. Unlike what some mechs think, he values the privacy of couples.
Speaking of the cameras... How is he going to do his duties? As Security Officer, he just can't stop working. And if the ‘Cons attack again?
“My...my cameras...”
“I will take your shift until further notice. Try to stay calm and don’t make Ratchet strap you down on the berth this time, would you?”
“Why... would he?”
“Well, there are rumors, you see,” begins the other officer.
“He...doesn’t do... that every time I... come here, for... Primus’ sake! Who...started this... rumor? Sideswipe?”
He could practically hear him smiling. Prowl isn’t the most friendly mech one sees everyday, and, neither is Red Alert. But it doesn’t mean they don’t care for everyone on board. They’re officers; it’s their role to keep the crew safe from any attack.
Even if that mean they have to keep their distance from everyone or be hated for their enforcement of protocols and regulations.
Not that everyone think they are sparkless or that they both have a stick up their afts. Inferno doesn’t think so. Jazz doesn’t think so. Optimus Prime knows why they behave as they do.
It’s enough for them.
Prowl’s voice pulls him from his musings.
“I must go now. Take care of yourself, Red Alert.”
“Yeah...”
He feels Prowl pat him on the shoulder before letting go of his hand, which he kept in his own until then. He hears the shift of the doors, and then the silence.
Suddenly, perhaps because nobody is touching him, things don’t feel right anymore.
What if Prowl had lied to him? What if Inferno...?
He just hopes Ratchet and Wheeljack are going to be fast; he doesn’t think he will be able to stay in the dark for much longer.
Not until he could feel Prowl or Inferno’s hand against him once again.
Title: Darkness
Prompt: Prowl / Red Alert / touch
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Implied Red Alert / Inferno and Prowl / Jazz
Summary: It's not Inferno hands, and it's not his touch, but Red Alert manages to relax anyway.
It’s never good to come out of stasis and be greeted by darkness. In fact, it’s downright scary, and for a while, you can only wonder if you’re really awake or if you’re still dreaming.
And when you realize you’re really awake, you begin to feel afraid.
“Red Alert? Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine.”
Prowl’s voice. An island of calm in a sea of chaos. And his hands on his arm, an anchor which holds him to the present, to reality.
It’s not Inferno hands, and it’s not his touch, but Red Alert manages to relax anyway. Prowl has this effect on him; he knows he can let him approach, he knows he’s not an enemy, he knows he’s not going to hurt him, ever.
Still, the darkness is scary, and he whimpers softly.
“Where... I am?”
His voice sounds strange and he has trouble pronouncing some words. Has his vocalizer suffered in some way?
“The Medbay. You were injured in the last battle. Do you remember?”
Yes. Now that Prowl is talking, he remembers. He remembers the way the Seekers took them apart (scattered them), shooting at them with everything they had. He remembers taking a shot in the face, and he’s surprised to still be alive, until he realizes it must have been a null ray from Starscream.
He remembers the shock and the pain.
And for a terrifying moment, he remembers Inferno going down, hit on the waist by a well placed shot from one of the Decepticons.
It’s only the hands of Prowl on his shoulders, which stop him from sitting up and looking around in panic, even if he can’t use his optics.
His touch does wonders, but no miracles.
“In...Inferno...”
“Still offline. Don’t worry”, Prowl adds, “he’s going to make it. Nothing vital was damaged, but he had to undergo surgery. Ratchet said he would probably come online in a few joors.”
Red Alert lets out a sigh of relief. For a second, he had thought...
“Why...why can’t I see?”
“Starscream’s last shot damaged your optics and messed with a good half of your sensors,” answers the tactician with a hint of sympathy. “Ratchet and Wheeljack are still working on new ones.”
“Should I be... worried or relieved?” He manages to say, wincing a little at hearing the static produced by his damaged vocalizer.
He hears Prowl chuckle. It’s a nice sound and he wishes he could hear it more often, but he knows it’s not likely to happen around him. Around Jazz, perhaps, especially if they are alone, and before they end up in one room together.
He doesn’t know if they do it anyway or if they just talk and go to recharge in each other's arms, like he and Inferno often do. He never allows the cameras to watch when they are alone together. Unlike what some mechs think, he values the privacy of couples.
Speaking of the cameras... How is he going to do his duties? As Security Officer, he just can't stop working. And if the ‘Cons attack again?
“My...my cameras...”
“I will take your shift until further notice. Try to stay calm and don’t make Ratchet strap you down on the berth this time, would you?”
“Why... would he?”
“Well, there are rumors, you see,” begins the other officer.
“He...doesn’t do... that every time I... come here, for... Primus’ sake! Who...started this... rumor? Sideswipe?”
He could practically hear him smiling. Prowl isn’t the most friendly mech one sees everyday, and, neither is Red Alert. But it doesn’t mean they don’t care for everyone on board. They’re officers; it’s their role to keep the crew safe from any attack.
Even if that mean they have to keep their distance from everyone or be hated for their enforcement of protocols and regulations.
Not that everyone think they are sparkless or that they both have a stick up their afts. Inferno doesn’t think so. Jazz doesn’t think so. Optimus Prime knows why they behave as they do.
It’s enough for them.
Prowl’s voice pulls him from his musings.
“I must go now. Take care of yourself, Red Alert.”
“Yeah...”
He feels Prowl pat him on the shoulder before letting go of his hand, which he kept in his own until then. He hears the shift of the doors, and then the silence.
Suddenly, perhaps because nobody is touching him, things don’t feel right anymore.
What if Prowl had lied to him? What if Inferno...?
He just hopes Ratchet and Wheeljack are going to be fast; he doesn’t think he will be able to stay in the dark for much longer.
Not until he could feel Prowl or Inferno’s hand against him once again.