It's too bad Rampage didn't arrive sooner, since to the untrained eye the mech in Tarn's grip was likely dead. First Aid had stopped moving sometime halfway into the excruciating slow process of severing his leg from his hip, no longer having the energy to struggle or form many conscious thoughts. His Autobot badge -- the only part of his body that glows besides his visor -- was now completely dark, and the pulse of energon from the wounds had slowed to a trickle.

He's still alive though. His spark was shrinking, his lifespan slowly ticking away, but alive for now.

First Aid feels very warm, almost flushed, even if his frame itself was cold as his energon leaves him. He thinks about his friends; movie nights in Rewind's room, staying late and talking Wreckers with Ratchet, Ambulon's awkward cluelessness, curling in Sixshot's paws, Rampage's horrible attempts at comfort.

He'd pay 10,000 shanix just to see Rampage beat the slag out of Tarn. Too bad he wasn't going to see it.