Virus
Optimus was confused and a little worried. And he wasn't the only one. He was in a meeting and everyone but Prowl was there. And that was saying something, Prowl was always at the meetings.
He cancelled the meeting and went to find out where his tactician was. His sensors showed that the tactician was in his office.
Optimus palmed the door and stood in shock at what he saw. Prowl was slumped on the wall next to the desk, his head on his knees. Half processed energon covered the floor in front of him and he seemed to be trembling violently.
"Prowl!" He rushed forward and knelt in front of him. He reached out a hand and placed it on the mech's arm. He was warmer than normal and he only seemed half-conscious.
"Come on Prowl; let's get you to the med-bay." He picked the tactician up gently and walked quickly to the med-bay, quickly ordering the twins to clean up Prowl's office as punishment for their latest prank.
A few mechs stopped and stared in worry when they saw the state of Prowl. When they were nearly at the med-bay, Prowl started having a coughing fit, then suddenly purged on Optimus' chest plates. The leader was so concerned about the younger mech that he didn't even care.
To say that Ratchet was shocked when they entered the med-bay was an understatement. The medic immediately had Prowl lying on a berth and started scanning him.
"Well, as you can see, he's come down with some sort of virus. Bad thing is, I don't know which one, and all I know is that it's bad." Prowl was murmuring things in his barely online state, but they couldn't make it out. Then the tactician jerked to the side and purged again.
Ratchet rubbed a hand over the mech's doorwings in a comforting manner. He often told the mechs about how uncomfortable purging was; it was like being burned from the inside. Energon was just simply not meant to come back up once it was eaten. Prowl lay down again and lay there on the berth trembling.
"He needs rest Prime, and someone to take care of him. I can't before you say anything, I may be a medic but I have others to care for. Can you take care of him until he gets a bit better?"
"I'll try my best. Anything I need to do?"
"Make sure he stays on the berth, try to keep his temperature as normal as possible and if he purges try to make him drink some of this." He handed over a blue energon cube. "It'll help with the burning purging makes." Optimus subspaced the energon and picked Prowl up again, wincing at the groan of pain from the normally collected tactician.
He walked out of the door and was instantly mobbed by questions from the other mechs outside the med-bay. Jazz broke through the crowd.
"Prime, what's wrong with him?"
"He's caught some kind of virus. Ratchet didn't know what it is, only that it's bad."
"Is he gunna be okay?" Prowl shuddered at the noise and moaned quietly.
"He just needs rest. Now excuse me."
He weaved through the crowd to his office and transferred Prowl to one arm to palm the door open. He walked in and placed the doorwinged mech gently on the berth as the door shut behind him. Prowl started to mumble in his recharge again, he moaned before purging over the side of the berth again. His weak azure optics opened and stared up at the Prime.
"S-Sorry...I-I can't stop p-purging."
"It's okay Prowl, you're sick, don't worry about it just rest." Prowl lay back down on the berth, panting slightly.
"Ratchet gave me something that's supposed to help with the burning purging makes. Do you need it?"
Prowl waved his arm dismissively as a 'no' answer. The arm flopped back down to the berth lifelessly straight after. The SIC curled up in a light recharge, holding his middle in a hope to somehow lessen the pain of the virus.
The Prime sighed, walked over to the other berth and lay down, falling into recharge with a hope that the tactician would feel better soon.
