Title: Not Yet Gone
Chapter: Part I - Hope
Author: SBX
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, Sunny and Sides, First Aid, Perceptor, Hound, Arcee, Springer
Pairings: ProwlxJazz
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU, angst and fluff
Disclaimer: No character used in this story belongs to me.
Summary: This is how things should have gone.
A/N: G1 fic. Done for the prowlxjazz Christmas challenge. Not quite a Christmas fic, but it fits all four prompts so it must count for something…Like the summary said this is how the '86 movie should have ended.
"Memory awakens hope. It is the beautiful task of Advent to awaken in all of us memories of goodness and thus to open doors of hope." - Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger.
First Aid looked over the six mechs laid out on tables in the makeshift morgue with sorrow. All of them were once comrades and beloved friends, now they were destined to be recycled for parts. Being created on Earth and therefore accustomed to the humans' methods of dealing with the dead, the very thought of taking apart the people he cared for and eventually putting whatever parts that were salvageable in other Autobots was disturbing. Especially Ratchet, who had been more than a friend; he had been the closest the young medic would ever have to a father.
However, by Cybertronian tradition it had to be done and as the newly appointed CMO it was First Aid's responsibility to carry out the distasteful act. Still, Perceptor was in the other room trying to salvage some of Wheeljack's more useful inventions. The proximity of the scientist was reassuring; a silent promise that he would be there to help if this task became too much.
Ratchet was at one end of the line of corpses while Prowl was at another. Not quite ready to dig around in his mentor's innards and take him apart permanently, First Aid decided to start with the former 2IC.
As he looked down at the deceased tactician he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the spark mate Prowl would leave behind. He didn't know if Jazz had been informed of his mate's death because he had yet to see him. It was likely that telling him was unnecessary, though. Due to the nature of the bond it was likely the saboteur had felt the exact moment of his mate's passing.
Sighing, First Aid decided that the time for procrastination was over and reached into his subspace for a laser cutter. It would be required to open the cover over Prowl's spark casing, which could only be opened conventionally by the will of the owner. Based on his research the medic had learned that the typical place to start was at the spark case. Once the spark was extinguished and if the casing was undamaged it could be used to replace the damaged casing of a terminally injured patient.
However it was unlikely the casing was still intact. The damage to Prowl's chest cavity was so extensive that First Aid hadn't even bothered to check to see if the spark was still active. All of the body's other functions were inactive; there was no possible way the spark was still alive.
As he removed the panel and saw what was behind it the young medic was suddenly reminded of something his mentor had once said to him.
"At least once in your career you'll encounter what I like to refer to as a 'medical miracle.' Someday you'll get a patient that is so badly injured that there is no way you can save them. But you'll try anyway because you're a medic and that's what a medic does. We just can't help ourselves. But somehow, someway they do survive. By your hand and skill they live, whether by the grace of Primus or your patient's stubborn will to live, I don't know. They do live, and you'll never be the same again."
First Aid stared down at the dimly glowing, flickering spark in dumb shock for a full minute before the implications finally set in. Prowl was alive. He could be saved. But the young medic couldn't do it himself.
"Perceptor!"
