Tarn grins as fear floods the Autobot's field. He watches silently as First Aid jerks and flounders to right himself, trying to flee back to the safety of the Medibay.

That won't do.

Tarn stomps a heavy foot on First Aid's smaller ankle joint, shattering it.

"Are you frightened, First Aid?"

He kneels over the prone, quivering form, admiring the various dents and shining sliver scrapes that litter his paint.
Reaching down he tenderly cradles his helm in his hands, stroking thumbs gently, almost affectionately, over heated cheeks.

"Who's the pathetic one now?"

Tarn plunges his thumbs through the glass of his visor, piercing optical feeds. Energon rushes from the holes, and broken glass clinks to the blood smeared dirt below. Blindly he reaches behind him, gathering the severed fingers into his fist. One by one he begins to shove them into the gaping holes , pushing as far as they go; prodding at his barely protected brain module. That would come later, however. After there is no doubt in his mind that First Aid has learned a valuable lesson.

Distantly he thinks of Megatron's disapproval. His mind struggling through fury and bloodlust to think of consequences.

No...

Megatron won't know; he'll make sure the body is never found. People disappear all the time on this twisted parody of Cybertron.