Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 02
Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 2 - Working together?
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: ”Ready to melt? Piece by robotic junk piece?” a voice drawled; drawing near. - The team has to work together, facing two human foes... Will they be able to pull it off? Set in TFA (Season 1); Connected to 01
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Sari, Ratchet, Bulkhead plus the foes (you can guess, right?)
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s): none I can think of...
Author's Note: Forgot to mention in Part 1 - in my AU of TFA, Prowl has mastered the art of Circuit-Su and is significantly older than in the show, on par with Ratchet, at least.
Working together?
Bulkhead crashed helm first into the Sumdac tower; clouds of dust exploded in all directions. Glass and rubble buried his frame, raining down on his thick green plating with sharp clanks.
Optimus ducked, only able to spare him a quick glance, - Bulkhead was forced into stasis lock; the stench of liquefied alloys hung heavily in the air.
Optimus swerved to the right, spotting movement behind him. He staggered dangerously for a moment, his damaged leg unable to support his full weight; but he managed.
A spray of dark green hit the concrete were he had stood a mere moment ago, dissolving the ground into a sizzling pool of gray foam. Dashing for temporary cover, luring their foe farther away, Optimus opened a comm link: ”Ratchet, what’s your status?”
Nothing but static answered him for an astrosecond; his spark clenched in anticipation; then: ”Working on it. Energy level 80 % and rising; program restored. Sari can almost use her key. Just hang in there a bit longer, Prime!”
Optimus replay was lost in his agonized scream. - Boiling hot acid had slammed right through the wall he had hidden behind, melting his armor plates. Streams of his own red paintjob ran down to his pedes, biting into the open wiring of the wound; turning it black. It felt like lines of fire, electrons almost overloading his processor with pain; his screen flooded with warnings and corrupted code sequences.
The buzz of the laser fading, his ax clattered deactivated to the ground, as his servos released their desperate clutch around the handle involuntarily. His frame followed it down, crumbling to the ground; lying on his side, vulnerable to any attack.
”Ready to melt? Piece by robotic junk piece?” a voice drawled; drawing near.
A shadow loomed over Optimus. Quickly adjusting his optics, the only component responding readily, he could discern a shape. Through the red haze, it turned into a body.
His containment suit almost overflowing with deathly acid in his glee, Meltdown leered, looking down on him; his smirk flowing and rearranging constantly.
Optimus tried to get back up, to use his grappling hooks, to do something - but his frame only twitched feebly; the movement eliciting a groan as everything burned.
Meltdown raised both arms, waterfalls of Cybertronian enzymes, and time seemed to slow down, as did Optimus' processing capability.
Everything was reduced to the distant sounds of fighting - Bumblebee and Prowl, trying to take down Colossus - , and Sari, screaming at her key to finally work, damn it! And a blue, bright sky, the sun shining - beautiful, but Optimus realized belatedly that he was cast in a long-stretched shadow.
The hissing sound of acid was overly loud in the sudden, accepting calm of his spark. The finger-like shapes aimed straight for its chamber, - the impact would instantly deactivate him, extinguishing his life force...
But it never came.
Instead, out of nowhere, Prowl appeared, right behind Meltdown’s back. In a movement blurred by speed, his servos struck, connecting in a series of blows; aimed with deathly accuracy. Acid splattered around, bursting into the air as a fine spray, with each hit.
Meltdown’s inhuman visage formed an almost comical impression of surprise as he slipped down to his knees, all strength drained away; uttering: ”Oh.” He lost consciousness, threatening to disperse into a green pool of bubbling goo; melting straight through the street.
Just then, a blue light shimmered into existence around the empty suit, separating the acid, trapping it in a transparent sphere; lifting into the air. Sari and Ratchet had finally managed to activate the force field. - And she was already leaving the tower, running over to use her key on Bulkhead.
Good. Optimus shuttered his optics in relief, one which had nothing to do with the pain wrecking his immobile frame. - His team would be safe.
”Prime!” Ratchet was beside him in an instant, running scans and cursing under the hiss of his frantically working vents. Emergency spark support was hooked up by deft digits, to keep his systems from crashing until Sari arrived.
Still dazed, Optimus tried to see the status of the rest of his team, failing that from his perspective, he asked with a staticy voice: ”Colossus?”
”No worries, big ‘bot. Your resident star player took him down.” Bumblebee’s helm entered Optimus field of view. The young mech made the victory sign, grinning, - until Ratchet shoved him away with enough force that he yelped.
Sari skidded to a halt besides them, looking, for once, unamused. ”You played bait, Bee. Bulkhead and Prowl did the hard work, - although your stingers were quite useful,” she corrected; adding the last part as a teasing afterthought.
Optimus could feel her crawling over his plating and then watched as Ratchet lifted her to his open spark chamber, to prevent her from touching the remaining acid. Her key connected with his systems.
”It was teamwork, right, little buddy?” chimed Bulkhead in for the sake of peace; he was already up and moving around.
”Sure was!”
A surge of pure power flowed straight into every circuit of Optimus frame as Sari turned the Allspark key to ignite his systems, purging the pain from them and repairing the sustained damage. He sighed quietly in relief, letting the tingling scan from Ratchet wash over him before he dared to move even a digit. The verdict was positive, so the CMO let him get up, back on his pedes, with Bulkhead lending a steadying servo.
”You alright, boss ‘bot?”
Optimus nodded, eliciting cheers form Bumblebee and Sari. - But, wait...!
”Where is - Prowl! Ratchet, his servos!”
Startled, and a bit guilt-ridden, everyone turned eyes and optics to the silent ninjabot, standing in the shadow of a wall. - Only to see that, although his digits were charred and thin tendrils of smoke rose from them, they were largely unharmed.
Visor narrowing slightly, being in the spotlight of undivided attention, Prowl said in his typical monotone: ”I am fine. Do not concern yourself.”
Bumblebee was kneeling beside him in a yellow flash, intently studying his loosely held servos, completely disregarding the concept of private space; which was never a good idea.
”Wow, Prowl - how did you pull that stunt off without a scratch?”
Prowls faceplate went totally blank. Sidestepping the smaller ‘bot, he put some distance between them, before responding: ”... Circuit-Su is, among other things, the art of manipulating ones own spark energy for varying purposes.”
”... Huh?”
The gold-black ‘bot sighed, clearly disgusted by such ignorance and for once not trying to hide it. Ratchet came closer and he allowed the medic to take a scan, the blue light tracing his resignedly held out servos; knowing better by now than to try and avoid it.
Prowl then focussed on Bumblebee’s clueless faceplate. Seeing the expression mirrored by all but the old war veteran by his side, he reluctantly elaborated: ”In laymen’s terms, I created a small ‘force field’ of my own, to protect my servos from serious damage.”
Frowning at his readings, Ratchet growled: ”As if ‘light’ damage’s not enough. - I want all your sorry afts in my med-bay for a check up, as soon as we get back to base.” Seeing their expressions, he held up a warning digit: ”No, don’t even try to argue.”
”You all heard Ratchet. And Prowl-”
”Really?” Bumblebee interrupted, having Prowls words mulled over; sounding a bit sullen. ”Man, if you had such a neat trick up your plating, then why didn’t you use it sooner? Like, five breems ago, when that crazy dude almost melted my aft?”
”Bee!” Sari gave the yellow ‘bot a smack in warning, which barely registered with her friend.
Prowls visor narrowed to slits: ”Because it is not... advisable to use it too often in this manner.” He transformed before the last word had left his vocalizer and drove away; the bike weaving through the littering rubble.
From the highway, sirens were drawing closer.
”Well - what are we waiting for? Let’s move, young ‘bots. Med-bay it is. Let Captain Fanzone handle the rest from here.”
Optimus, processor still lingering on both Prowls words and his rigid stance, indicating his unwillingness to speak about the matter, startled a bit at Ratchet’s impatient grumbling.
”Right. Let’s head back to base. Autobots, transform and roll out!”
Which they did, - but even Bumblebee did not put up too much speed, trying to procrastinate as much as possible, not keen on the awaiting ‘prodding torture’.
BREAK
Later that evening, finally released from Ratchet’s well meaning clutches, Optimus found Prowl outside the manufacturing plant, near the only patch of grass to be found in the vicinity.
The ninjabot seemed to study something between the gently swaying blades. Coming closer, Optimus could see an anthill, crawling with hundreds of black insects. - For such tiny organic creatures, he noted absently, they were able to haul tremendous weights, as illustrated by the dead grasshopper they dragged into their hole.
Optimus decided to skip right to the point - better to say his piece now, phrased as carefully neutral as possible, than for Prowl to up and leave, like last time.
”Prowl. Thank you. You saved my life today - and you were a great help in this battle.”
The ninjabot didn’t turn around to face him, visor still trained down. ”... Unnecessary. Our victory was a combined effort.”
Which is beside the point, as true as that assessment may be, thought Optimus wryly. But he held his glossa, weary and unwilling to risk starting an argument, when all he wanted was to express his gratitude. Maybe he should notch it up as improvement in their interaction, that he had been able to actually say the words this time.
”Yes, a combined effort. - Prowl, you’re part of the team now.”
Although Optimus knew better, he failed to completely suppress the hint of teasing in the pitch of his vocalizer, thinking back to their last conversation about the topic.
The ninjabot turned to him, - and seemed to vanish, right in front of Optimus widening, startled optics. - Were those faint scars on his servos? How had he managed to conceal them from Ratchet?! The acid - Prowl, what do you think you’re doing?!
A sense of, what a human might have called ‘déjà vu’, crept into Optimus processor, as, from the shadows behind him, a voice spoke: ”I am, when I am needed. - But I will never change my ways.”
Not turning around, he answered: ”I think you already are. And it’s not a bad thing, Prowl.”
Nothing but silence reigned over the empty yard. But this was start. And a promising one, at that. - Maybe.
End
Chapter: One Shot 2 - Working together?
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: ”Ready to melt? Piece by robotic junk piece?” a voice drawled; drawing near. - The team has to work together, facing two human foes... Will they be able to pull it off? Set in TFA (Season 1); Connected to 01
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Sari, Ratchet, Bulkhead plus the foes (you can guess, right?)
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s): none I can think of...
Author's Note: Forgot to mention in Part 1 - in my AU of TFA, Prowl has mastered the art of Circuit-Su and is significantly older than in the show, on par with Ratchet, at least.
Working together?
Bulkhead crashed helm first into the Sumdac tower; clouds of dust exploded in all directions. Glass and rubble buried his frame, raining down on his thick green plating with sharp clanks.
Optimus ducked, only able to spare him a quick glance, - Bulkhead was forced into stasis lock; the stench of liquefied alloys hung heavily in the air.
Optimus swerved to the right, spotting movement behind him. He staggered dangerously for a moment, his damaged leg unable to support his full weight; but he managed.
A spray of dark green hit the concrete were he had stood a mere moment ago, dissolving the ground into a sizzling pool of gray foam. Dashing for temporary cover, luring their foe farther away, Optimus opened a comm link: ”Ratchet, what’s your status?”
Nothing but static answered him for an astrosecond; his spark clenched in anticipation; then: ”Working on it. Energy level 80 % and rising; program restored. Sari can almost use her key. Just hang in there a bit longer, Prime!”
Optimus replay was lost in his agonized scream. - Boiling hot acid had slammed right through the wall he had hidden behind, melting his armor plates. Streams of his own red paintjob ran down to his pedes, biting into the open wiring of the wound; turning it black. It felt like lines of fire, electrons almost overloading his processor with pain; his screen flooded with warnings and corrupted code sequences.
The buzz of the laser fading, his ax clattered deactivated to the ground, as his servos released their desperate clutch around the handle involuntarily. His frame followed it down, crumbling to the ground; lying on his side, vulnerable to any attack.
”Ready to melt? Piece by robotic junk piece?” a voice drawled; drawing near.
A shadow loomed over Optimus. Quickly adjusting his optics, the only component responding readily, he could discern a shape. Through the red haze, it turned into a body.
His containment suit almost overflowing with deathly acid in his glee, Meltdown leered, looking down on him; his smirk flowing and rearranging constantly.
Optimus tried to get back up, to use his grappling hooks, to do something - but his frame only twitched feebly; the movement eliciting a groan as everything burned.
Meltdown raised both arms, waterfalls of Cybertronian enzymes, and time seemed to slow down, as did Optimus' processing capability.
Everything was reduced to the distant sounds of fighting - Bumblebee and Prowl, trying to take down Colossus - , and Sari, screaming at her key to finally work, damn it! And a blue, bright sky, the sun shining - beautiful, but Optimus realized belatedly that he was cast in a long-stretched shadow.
The hissing sound of acid was overly loud in the sudden, accepting calm of his spark. The finger-like shapes aimed straight for its chamber, - the impact would instantly deactivate him, extinguishing his life force...
But it never came.
Instead, out of nowhere, Prowl appeared, right behind Meltdown’s back. In a movement blurred by speed, his servos struck, connecting in a series of blows; aimed with deathly accuracy. Acid splattered around, bursting into the air as a fine spray, with each hit.
Meltdown’s inhuman visage formed an almost comical impression of surprise as he slipped down to his knees, all strength drained away; uttering: ”Oh.” He lost consciousness, threatening to disperse into a green pool of bubbling goo; melting straight through the street.
Just then, a blue light shimmered into existence around the empty suit, separating the acid, trapping it in a transparent sphere; lifting into the air. Sari and Ratchet had finally managed to activate the force field. - And she was already leaving the tower, running over to use her key on Bulkhead.
Good. Optimus shuttered his optics in relief, one which had nothing to do with the pain wrecking his immobile frame. - His team would be safe.
”Prime!” Ratchet was beside him in an instant, running scans and cursing under the hiss of his frantically working vents. Emergency spark support was hooked up by deft digits, to keep his systems from crashing until Sari arrived.
Still dazed, Optimus tried to see the status of the rest of his team, failing that from his perspective, he asked with a staticy voice: ”Colossus?”
”No worries, big ‘bot. Your resident star player took him down.” Bumblebee’s helm entered Optimus field of view. The young mech made the victory sign, grinning, - until Ratchet shoved him away with enough force that he yelped.
Sari skidded to a halt besides them, looking, for once, unamused. ”You played bait, Bee. Bulkhead and Prowl did the hard work, - although your stingers were quite useful,” she corrected; adding the last part as a teasing afterthought.
Optimus could feel her crawling over his plating and then watched as Ratchet lifted her to his open spark chamber, to prevent her from touching the remaining acid. Her key connected with his systems.
”It was teamwork, right, little buddy?” chimed Bulkhead in for the sake of peace; he was already up and moving around.
”Sure was!”
A surge of pure power flowed straight into every circuit of Optimus frame as Sari turned the Allspark key to ignite his systems, purging the pain from them and repairing the sustained damage. He sighed quietly in relief, letting the tingling scan from Ratchet wash over him before he dared to move even a digit. The verdict was positive, so the CMO let him get up, back on his pedes, with Bulkhead lending a steadying servo.
”You alright, boss ‘bot?”
Optimus nodded, eliciting cheers form Bumblebee and Sari. - But, wait...!
”Where is - Prowl! Ratchet, his servos!”
Startled, and a bit guilt-ridden, everyone turned eyes and optics to the silent ninjabot, standing in the shadow of a wall. - Only to see that, although his digits were charred and thin tendrils of smoke rose from them, they were largely unharmed.
Visor narrowing slightly, being in the spotlight of undivided attention, Prowl said in his typical monotone: ”I am fine. Do not concern yourself.”
Bumblebee was kneeling beside him in a yellow flash, intently studying his loosely held servos, completely disregarding the concept of private space; which was never a good idea.
”Wow, Prowl - how did you pull that stunt off without a scratch?”
Prowls faceplate went totally blank. Sidestepping the smaller ‘bot, he put some distance between them, before responding: ”... Circuit-Su is, among other things, the art of manipulating ones own spark energy for varying purposes.”
”... Huh?”
The gold-black ‘bot sighed, clearly disgusted by such ignorance and for once not trying to hide it. Ratchet came closer and he allowed the medic to take a scan, the blue light tracing his resignedly held out servos; knowing better by now than to try and avoid it.
Prowl then focussed on Bumblebee’s clueless faceplate. Seeing the expression mirrored by all but the old war veteran by his side, he reluctantly elaborated: ”In laymen’s terms, I created a small ‘force field’ of my own, to protect my servos from serious damage.”
Frowning at his readings, Ratchet growled: ”As if ‘light’ damage’s not enough. - I want all your sorry afts in my med-bay for a check up, as soon as we get back to base.” Seeing their expressions, he held up a warning digit: ”No, don’t even try to argue.”
”You all heard Ratchet. And Prowl-”
”Really?” Bumblebee interrupted, having Prowls words mulled over; sounding a bit sullen. ”Man, if you had such a neat trick up your plating, then why didn’t you use it sooner? Like, five breems ago, when that crazy dude almost melted my aft?”
”Bee!” Sari gave the yellow ‘bot a smack in warning, which barely registered with her friend.
Prowls visor narrowed to slits: ”Because it is not... advisable to use it too often in this manner.” He transformed before the last word had left his vocalizer and drove away; the bike weaving through the littering rubble.
From the highway, sirens were drawing closer.
”Well - what are we waiting for? Let’s move, young ‘bots. Med-bay it is. Let Captain Fanzone handle the rest from here.”
Optimus, processor still lingering on both Prowls words and his rigid stance, indicating his unwillingness to speak about the matter, startled a bit at Ratchet’s impatient grumbling.
”Right. Let’s head back to base. Autobots, transform and roll out!”
Which they did, - but even Bumblebee did not put up too much speed, trying to procrastinate as much as possible, not keen on the awaiting ‘prodding torture’.
BREAK
Later that evening, finally released from Ratchet’s well meaning clutches, Optimus found Prowl outside the manufacturing plant, near the only patch of grass to be found in the vicinity.
The ninjabot seemed to study something between the gently swaying blades. Coming closer, Optimus could see an anthill, crawling with hundreds of black insects. - For such tiny organic creatures, he noted absently, they were able to haul tremendous weights, as illustrated by the dead grasshopper they dragged into their hole.
Optimus decided to skip right to the point - better to say his piece now, phrased as carefully neutral as possible, than for Prowl to up and leave, like last time.
”Prowl. Thank you. You saved my life today - and you were a great help in this battle.”
The ninjabot didn’t turn around to face him, visor still trained down. ”... Unnecessary. Our victory was a combined effort.”
Which is beside the point, as true as that assessment may be, thought Optimus wryly. But he held his glossa, weary and unwilling to risk starting an argument, when all he wanted was to express his gratitude. Maybe he should notch it up as improvement in their interaction, that he had been able to actually say the words this time.
”Yes, a combined effort. - Prowl, you’re part of the team now.”
Although Optimus knew better, he failed to completely suppress the hint of teasing in the pitch of his vocalizer, thinking back to their last conversation about the topic.
The ninjabot turned to him, - and seemed to vanish, right in front of Optimus widening, startled optics. - Were those faint scars on his servos? How had he managed to conceal them from Ratchet?! The acid - Prowl, what do you think you’re doing?!
A sense of, what a human might have called ‘déjà vu’, crept into Optimus processor, as, from the shadows behind him, a voice spoke: ”I am, when I am needed. - But I will never change my ways.”
Not turning around, he answered: ”I think you already are. And it’s not a bad thing, Prowl.”
Nothing but silence reigned over the empty yard. But this was start. And a promising one, at that. - Maybe.
End