It's a mutual feeling, buddy. Normally looking at Tarn didn't make him wet, but here he was, shivering from a feeling that wasn't intense, blind rage and the urge to purge down the mech's chest for once. Well, he was still angry, but it was muddled confusion and frustration, his concentration hazy from the charge.

First Aid clenches his hands by his sides to keep him from striking the mech, if just because he can't trust himself to touch him at the moment.

"You're dying. You feel it, right? You'll start melting from the inside out soon."

At least he can get his jollies from telling Tarn false medication information. Nobody ever said he wasn't petty.