Title: Uncertain Thoughts
Pairings/Characters: Prowl
Prompt Word: Ambiguous
Words: 1032
Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers.
Enjoy!
The flames crept closer and closer to the propane tanks, crackling like a live creature and casting demented shadows over the gray concrete walls as it continued to trek along the diluted oil spreading in webbed lines of the groove-ridden floor. It would, fortunate or unfortunate was up for debate really, reach the propane tanks before it could reach him. The rubble strewn room made for a rather ghastly sight without the red and orange licking fire but as it was, Prowl felt more than a little frightened of the visual.
It was like an ironic joke that the universe decided to play, Prowl imagined as he tiredly watched the opalescent liquid crawl across the floor. After a lifetime of seeking and searching for a variety of things and also rescuing and helping people on this, in his opinion perfectly sized, small planet, he was trapped in a underground bunker with a gaping hole in his side. There was already a puddle of plasma pooled under him from where vital energon lines had been speared open.
Prowl wearily laid his helm against a broken metal strut that was propped slanted in the floor and vented softly. He would have been a bit more eager to stay online and keep tabs on the fire's path if he knew someone was going to rescue him.
It had been a foolish mistake.
Makeshift had been right; he was too rash, overeager. He had safely evacuated the soldiers from the bomb bunker as his mission entailed. They had been trapped within the bunker after the doors had been lodged too deeply in the ground by tremors in the earth for a human, or a entire group of strong humans, to lift free. After escorting the unconscious soldiers halfway down a road that lead to a military camp and setting out a SOS beacon for them, he had returned to secure the bunker before heading back to the Autobot base.
Prowl had thought he heard screaming from inside and he had eagerly ran inside of the bunker to seek out the human and get them to safety. He had scolded himself once on the way in for actually leaving one of the humans behind then a second time when he found the broken pipe that was issuing the high-pitched sound. That was when another of the tremors from a deep earthquake shook the fragile supports of the bunker once more. Prowl had been standing in the middle of the room when the ceiling fell to pieces from the stress of so many tremors.
After throwing himself out of the way of a piece of equipment falling over, one of the chunks of concrete from the ceiling had fallen across his legs and snapped a few neural wires causing him to loose all sensor readings from his legs. A beam that came loose from the rupturing ceiling grazed him just enough to tear a hole in his side. He had been able to lower his sensor net's pain receptors over that area of his torso but unlike a medic, he could not turn them off so the ache kept him subdued beneath the rubble.
Makeshift would have had him patched up in astro-seconds but Prowl only knew some first aid and none of it was enough to cover holes in one's frame. Besides his medic teammate was back at the Autobot base taking care of the Sea Team that had ironically contracted a Rust Infection; they were supposed to have some sort of immunity in their armor toward that, weren't they?
Prowl was supposed to be there. He was supposed to be helping Spiral and Iceberg organize a few new supplies that came from the kids earlier that deca-cycle. Instead he had snuck out; the why escaped him but it hadn't taken him long to discover the frantic radio signals from a military camp about some missing troops. His instinctive programming and concern for the humans had driven him to scout out their patrol route. Thus he was here.
Firebot would probably be mad at him, Prowl thought suddenly. It was a well known rule that all mini-cons and Autobots were to avoid human notice, except for Rad, Carlos, and Alexis. Firebot had been enforcing that rule to him ever since they were told it. Prowl just couldn't help it sometimes. He liked humans! Now, though, Firebot would probably be angry at him because he and Makeshift had been and were already angry with him. That thought hurt.
Given another few breems the flames would hit the propane tanks scattered in the corner. As a rescue mini-con... Prowl knew it was likely he would not survive the blast. At best, his armor and plating would melt from the heat and make him an unrecognizable mess of metal with low chances of survival if he did not receive help in at least one or two joors afterward. His spark chamber might even shatter from the intense heat which lead to the worst case scenario; deactivation. He would most likely die even if he survived the initial blast.
His thoughts of his own deactivation brought unwanted tears to his optics, misting the glass lenses. He wanted Firebot! He wanted Makeshift! Prowl attempted to curl in his upper body as close together as he could, wrapping his arms over his mangled torso with small whimpers as his arm brushed against the exposed wires. He drew on the rare moments when Makeshift felt indulgent and Firebot managed to sit still long enough that they joined him on the couch in their quarters and, dare he say or think it, cuddle up with him while he watched the delightful human creation called a TV and the funny animated things on the TV called cartoons.
He immersed himself with that memory and imagined that his own arms were the ones of his teammates and managed a wobbly smile just as an explosion filled the entire room with a red-hot wave of fire and shrapnel.
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