Hunter Green (Part 15 - End)
Dec. 9th, 2008 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Hunter Green (Part 15 - End)
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Same as before
Prowl fidgeted, puzzled. It was unlike him to do so, but the whole day he’d felt… on edge. Ever since Skyfire had come back to the Ark with that datachip, something had tugged at his processors, and tried to pull him away from his work and on wandering rambles about the Ark, strangely lapping the corridors outside the shuttle’s lab most often. He’d put it down to Hunter’s memories and habits, the youngling had been close to the researcher, after all, but this… impulse was far stronger than mere habit would account for.
Suddenly, he stood and left the room, walking faster, before breaking into a run. He entered Skyfire’s lab just in time to see the shuttle, reaching for an upright green frame, and Perceptor, faceplates completely shocked and dismayed, lunging for the switch to cut the power. But as the small frame collapsed, so did Prowl.
It hurt, and he could not hold back the cry. It was like something inside was trying to get out, and not caring if it had to tear him apart to do so. Skyfire had broken free of his daze and the tactician was hefted onto the shuttle’s lap with ease, the larger mech frantically calling his name and getting only a pained groan in reply. His sensors vaguely registered Ratchet hurrying in, summoned by Perceptor no doubt.
“What happened?”
“I have no idea, he just dropped. Could it be something the Decepticons did to him?”
“Can’t be. Red Alert checked him as well, neither of us found anything.”
Right at that moment, Prowl’s chestplates parted, halting their discussion. Then, so did the casing of his spark. As the soft light of Prowl’s spark was revealed to their incredulous optics, Perceptor blinked in surprise, and whispered to the medic.
“Ratchet, do you see…”
“… Yes.”
“What? And how?”
“… I don’t know how. And I’m not sure what either.”
They stared at Prowl’s spark. More specifically, at the tiny fragment that was somehow separating from it. Skyfire’s mouth worked soundlessly, before he managed to get out his observation. “… I think… I think that’s Hunter.”
The other two looked up at the shuttle, seeing the growing hope in his optics. Gently, Ratchet tried to keep the mech from getting his hopes too high. “We don’t know that, Skyfire.”
“It’s him. It has to be.”
“Skyfire…”
“Take it.” At the low, forced out words, Ratchet turned back to Prowl, who was gritting his denta against the pain.
“This is your spark we’re talking about. A split doesn’t just occur for no apparent reason! I should let it re-merge with yours.”
“It was Hunter’s spark as well. You have to try. I owe him that much.” Catching the determined look in the SIC’s optics, the CMO nodded.
“Very well. Skyfire, bring Prowl over to the other chassis. Perceptor, can you power up the frame?”
“Ratchet, is that a good idea?”
At the microscope’s apprehensive look, the medic sighed. “I don’t know, but that fragment will go out once it’s fully separated if we don’t get it into a casing quickly. It’s too small to withstand being on its own for long.”
Perceptor nodded, then did as asked. The frame shifted once energy flowed into its systems, stirring and glancing about the lab. Ratchet felt his fuel tanks churn, understanding why Perceptor had been apprehensive. As he approached with a datajack, the chassis flinched away, and he froze in place.
“Hunter. Please let Ratchet link to you. He only wants to help. You are safe here.” The frame turned its head towards Skyfire’s voice, then lay still. The medic set to work, opening the frame’s plating and spark chamber, then beckoned Skyfire, still carrying Prowl, closer. The spark fragment moved in the direction of the other chassis, as if seeking it, and (Ratchet could scarcely believe it was possible) the green frame went even stiller, lying docilely on the workbench, dull optics never leaving the tactician.
Carefully, the medic cradled the tiny, flickering shred and pulled it away from Prowl’s spark. The mech groaned again, fingers tightening on Skyfire’s plating as the fragment separated from him. Moving quickly, Ratchet brought the already weakening glimmer to the casing lying open in the green frame, and watched as the spark fragment darted into the chamber all on its own. The casing sealed and plating rearranged itself, and the green mech shuddered, optics flaring into full brilliance, before they dimmed and the small frame lay still again.
“Ratchet?” Pit, the shakiness in Skyfire’s tone was painful to hear.
“He’s just in recharge. The chassis wasn’t fully powered, ever, and it needs to recoup the energy. Being connected to the power grid will help, but he should get some energon as soon as possible.”
The medic turned back to Prowl, only to find the SIC’s plating back where it should be, and the mech offline as well. He sighed. “Well. Let’s get them both to the med bay.”
========================================
He came online with a CPU feeling like it was split open, and actually felt about his helm cursorily to check. As his digits passed over the metal surface, he frowned. The feel of it was different.
Then he noticed something else.
Everything was, for lack of a better description, bigger.
He looked down at himself. Green plating met his optics. Familiar green plating. Something twitched behind him, and he twisted back slightly to spy sensor panels, much like the doorwings of his previous frame. Ah, so they’d finally managed to install them. Flexing them experimentally, he took note of the data they fed him, comparing it to what his previous frame had sensed and using the info to figure out how to use them.
Then the thought hit him.
How was he even alive to do this?
Casting about he noticed he was alone, and going over his memory data he frowned at the jumbled mix the most recent memories seemed to be in and the sheer number of empty gaps that he knew should have held something. But, there was something else. Something hovered at the edge of his consciousness, and curious, he went after it.
========================================
In the main med bay, Prowl turned to look in the direction of the ward they’d put Hunter’s chassis in. Jazz, who’d been quietly talking to him, fell silent as well, following his gaze.
“He’s awake.” The soft comment had Skyfire heading for the door, only to be stopped by Ratchet.
“Let me check on him first.” Unspoken was the desire to spare the larger mech from more hurt, just in case. The shuttle stood aside reluctantly, and the medic entered the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Ratchet?” The green mech on the berth looked up at him, sensor panels perking in curiosity.
“Yes. Do you know where you are?”
“Medical Bay of the Ark. Second floor, sector delta.” The smaller mech answered, smiling as he almost parroted the response he’d given when first asked this question. “Unless you’ve moved it somehow in the last few weeks or so.”
Ratchet huffed, unable to conceal his own slowly growing smile as he ran a few scans and checks over the other mech. “Designation?”
“Hunter.” There was no hesitation in the answer.
“Very good. Now, I believe there’s someone who needs to talk to you.” With this, he slid open the door and let Skyfire in. The shuttle stared at Hunter for a good minute, before the youngling quietly spoke to him.
“‘Fire?”
He swept the smaller mech into a hug, pulling him close. “If you ever, ever do that again, you will be grounded until you fall apart, understand?”
Sensor panels fluttering contentedly, Hunter only nodded, burrowing into the larger mech’s embrace. Explanations could come later.
========================================
“Prowler, why’re you smiling?”
His first reaction was to tell Jazz not to call him that, and from the look on the saboteur’s faceplates, that was exactly what the mech had been expecting. Sighing, he gave up.
“Bluestreak’s just come in from patrol and gotten to the med bay. Hunter’s joy seems to be affecting me.”
Try as he might though (not that he tried very hard), the tactician couldn’t muster the will to stop smiling. As Jazz grinned and tugged him out of the rec. room, he overheard Sideswipe conferring with his twin.
“Right. First thing we do when we get the kid alone; we teach him how to put up a block. Prowl should not be smiling like that. Weirds the slag out of me.”
And that, if anything, just made his smile grow even larger.
================ EndFic ===============
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Same as before
Prowl fidgeted, puzzled. It was unlike him to do so, but the whole day he’d felt… on edge. Ever since Skyfire had come back to the Ark with that datachip, something had tugged at his processors, and tried to pull him away from his work and on wandering rambles about the Ark, strangely lapping the corridors outside the shuttle’s lab most often. He’d put it down to Hunter’s memories and habits, the youngling had been close to the researcher, after all, but this… impulse was far stronger than mere habit would account for.
Suddenly, he stood and left the room, walking faster, before breaking into a run. He entered Skyfire’s lab just in time to see the shuttle, reaching for an upright green frame, and Perceptor, faceplates completely shocked and dismayed, lunging for the switch to cut the power. But as the small frame collapsed, so did Prowl.
It hurt, and he could not hold back the cry. It was like something inside was trying to get out, and not caring if it had to tear him apart to do so. Skyfire had broken free of his daze and the tactician was hefted onto the shuttle’s lap with ease, the larger mech frantically calling his name and getting only a pained groan in reply. His sensors vaguely registered Ratchet hurrying in, summoned by Perceptor no doubt.
“What happened?”
“I have no idea, he just dropped. Could it be something the Decepticons did to him?”
“Can’t be. Red Alert checked him as well, neither of us found anything.”
Right at that moment, Prowl’s chestplates parted, halting their discussion. Then, so did the casing of his spark. As the soft light of Prowl’s spark was revealed to their incredulous optics, Perceptor blinked in surprise, and whispered to the medic.
“Ratchet, do you see…”
“… Yes.”
“What? And how?”
“… I don’t know how. And I’m not sure what either.”
They stared at Prowl’s spark. More specifically, at the tiny fragment that was somehow separating from it. Skyfire’s mouth worked soundlessly, before he managed to get out his observation. “… I think… I think that’s Hunter.”
The other two looked up at the shuttle, seeing the growing hope in his optics. Gently, Ratchet tried to keep the mech from getting his hopes too high. “We don’t know that, Skyfire.”
“It’s him. It has to be.”
“Skyfire…”
“Take it.” At the low, forced out words, Ratchet turned back to Prowl, who was gritting his denta against the pain.
“This is your spark we’re talking about. A split doesn’t just occur for no apparent reason! I should let it re-merge with yours.”
“It was Hunter’s spark as well. You have to try. I owe him that much.” Catching the determined look in the SIC’s optics, the CMO nodded.
“Very well. Skyfire, bring Prowl over to the other chassis. Perceptor, can you power up the frame?”
“Ratchet, is that a good idea?”
At the microscope’s apprehensive look, the medic sighed. “I don’t know, but that fragment will go out once it’s fully separated if we don’t get it into a casing quickly. It’s too small to withstand being on its own for long.”
Perceptor nodded, then did as asked. The frame shifted once energy flowed into its systems, stirring and glancing about the lab. Ratchet felt his fuel tanks churn, understanding why Perceptor had been apprehensive. As he approached with a datajack, the chassis flinched away, and he froze in place.
“Hunter. Please let Ratchet link to you. He only wants to help. You are safe here.” The frame turned its head towards Skyfire’s voice, then lay still. The medic set to work, opening the frame’s plating and spark chamber, then beckoned Skyfire, still carrying Prowl, closer. The spark fragment moved in the direction of the other chassis, as if seeking it, and (Ratchet could scarcely believe it was possible) the green frame went even stiller, lying docilely on the workbench, dull optics never leaving the tactician.
Carefully, the medic cradled the tiny, flickering shred and pulled it away from Prowl’s spark. The mech groaned again, fingers tightening on Skyfire’s plating as the fragment separated from him. Moving quickly, Ratchet brought the already weakening glimmer to the casing lying open in the green frame, and watched as the spark fragment darted into the chamber all on its own. The casing sealed and plating rearranged itself, and the green mech shuddered, optics flaring into full brilliance, before they dimmed and the small frame lay still again.
“Ratchet?” Pit, the shakiness in Skyfire’s tone was painful to hear.
“He’s just in recharge. The chassis wasn’t fully powered, ever, and it needs to recoup the energy. Being connected to the power grid will help, but he should get some energon as soon as possible.”
The medic turned back to Prowl, only to find the SIC’s plating back where it should be, and the mech offline as well. He sighed. “Well. Let’s get them both to the med bay.”
He came online with a CPU feeling like it was split open, and actually felt about his helm cursorily to check. As his digits passed over the metal surface, he frowned. The feel of it was different.
Then he noticed something else.
Everything was, for lack of a better description, bigger.
He looked down at himself. Green plating met his optics. Familiar green plating. Something twitched behind him, and he twisted back slightly to spy sensor panels, much like the doorwings of his previous frame. Ah, so they’d finally managed to install them. Flexing them experimentally, he took note of the data they fed him, comparing it to what his previous frame had sensed and using the info to figure out how to use them.
Then the thought hit him.
How was he even alive to do this?
Casting about he noticed he was alone, and going over his memory data he frowned at the jumbled mix the most recent memories seemed to be in and the sheer number of empty gaps that he knew should have held something. But, there was something else. Something hovered at the edge of his consciousness, and curious, he went after it.
In the main med bay, Prowl turned to look in the direction of the ward they’d put Hunter’s chassis in. Jazz, who’d been quietly talking to him, fell silent as well, following his gaze.
“He’s awake.” The soft comment had Skyfire heading for the door, only to be stopped by Ratchet.
“Let me check on him first.” Unspoken was the desire to spare the larger mech from more hurt, just in case. The shuttle stood aside reluctantly, and the medic entered the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Ratchet?” The green mech on the berth looked up at him, sensor panels perking in curiosity.
“Yes. Do you know where you are?”
“Medical Bay of the Ark. Second floor, sector delta.” The smaller mech answered, smiling as he almost parroted the response he’d given when first asked this question. “Unless you’ve moved it somehow in the last few weeks or so.”
Ratchet huffed, unable to conceal his own slowly growing smile as he ran a few scans and checks over the other mech. “Designation?”
“Hunter.” There was no hesitation in the answer.
“Very good. Now, I believe there’s someone who needs to talk to you.” With this, he slid open the door and let Skyfire in. The shuttle stared at Hunter for a good minute, before the youngling quietly spoke to him.
“‘Fire?”
He swept the smaller mech into a hug, pulling him close. “If you ever, ever do that again, you will be grounded until you fall apart, understand?”
Sensor panels fluttering contentedly, Hunter only nodded, burrowing into the larger mech’s embrace. Explanations could come later.
“Prowler, why’re you smiling?”
His first reaction was to tell Jazz not to call him that, and from the look on the saboteur’s faceplates, that was exactly what the mech had been expecting. Sighing, he gave up.
“Bluestreak’s just come in from patrol and gotten to the med bay. Hunter’s joy seems to be affecting me.”
Try as he might though (not that he tried very hard), the tactician couldn’t muster the will to stop smiling. As Jazz grinned and tugged him out of the rec. room, he overheard Sideswipe conferring with his twin.
“Right. First thing we do when we get the kid alone; we teach him how to put up a block. Prowl should not be smiling like that. Weirds the slag out of me.”
And that, if anything, just made his smile grow even larger.
