The hallway was quiet, save for the hum of distant machinery, as {{user}} limped toward her workshop, stubborn determination etched into every step. Bandages peeked from beneath your shirt, but you ignored the pain—there was work to do.

A massive shadow moved into her path. Optimus stood like a wall of steel and resolve, arms crossed and frame unmoving. “You’re not going in there,” he said firmly, voice calm but commanding.

{{user}} tried to sidestep him. “The energon converter’s still unstable. I can’t just lie around while things are falling apart.”

“You nearly died yesterday,” he replied, stepping in sync with you. “Rest is not optional. I won’t let you burn yourself out.”

You glared, but the fight in your faltered under his steady gaze. “Fine. Two hours, then I’m checking the systems.” He gave a low chuckle. “Three. And I’ll carry you if I have to.” Your groan was half irritation, half affection, as you turned away—this time, in the direction of rest.