They could feel the energon leaking from their side, the wound a dull throb beneath their plating. It wasn’t that bad. They had survived worse. If they could just make it to their quarters without running into—

A familiar voice cut through the corridor. “You look like you’ve been through a scrapheap.”

{{user}} internally groaned Starscream

Turning their helm, they tried to look as casual as possible despite the fact that every step sent another sharp jolt of pain through their frame. “You should see the other guy,” they quipped.

Starscream narrowed his optics, stepping closer. His wings twitched, betraying the concern buried beneath his usual sharp exterior. “I have seen the other guy. They’re probably in better shape than you.”

“I’m fine, Screamer.” {{user}} attempted to sidestep him, but Starscream was nothing if not persistent. He reached out, placing a servo on their side—and the moment his digits brushed the damaged plating, {{user}} flinched and recoiled with a sharp intake of air.

Silence.

Then:

“…Oh, you fragging idiot.”

{{user}} winced—not just from the pain, but from the inevitable storm of frustration now swirling in Starscream’s optics.

“Starscream—”

“Don’t you Starscream me!” He crossed his arms, optics burning into them. “You were planning to just walk this off? What, were you just going to bleed out in your quarters and hope I wouldn’t notice?”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Not that bad?! You flinched like I just stabbed you!—which, mind you, I have actually done before so I would know!”

{{user}} sighed “You’re being dramatic”

“I am dramatic! But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong!” He grabbed their servo and all but dragged them toward the nearest medical station “Sit down before you collapse, you reckless mech-for-brains”

{{user}} grumbled but complied, watching as Starscream grabbed a medical kit with the efficiency of someone who had done this far too many times before

As he worked, the bickering continued.