"I know." Drift's voice is a quiet sigh, a distant echo of future weariness on his face, but he looks oddly at peace. His hand doesn't leave Rodimus' shoulder, still clasping tight. He wants Rodimus to know he's here -- that that isn't about to change any time soon, even if he doesn't agree with Rodimus about his own exile. "Ratchet told me. I know. But that doesn't mean what I did wasn't necessary."