As part of the clinic staff Megatron could assure him that his presence was not a nuisance. Tarn had nothing to lose now - and he'd already busted into the Medibay once to finish the job as he originally suspected. Having a Decepticon he could trust to watch over them, even for a little while, was a thing he was quietly appreciative of.

Sixshot would find him returning to the base as he left, looking a little mentally weary himself. Against his conscience, he was starting to consult a few about possibly having some sort of weapon upgrade. It felt every bit as wrong as he thought it would, but he had to consider the situation pragmatically. Tarn was far from the most dangerous rebel element in the Decepticons. Tarn at least had an unflinching, if misguided loyalty. The others? Not so much. He needed to be ready.

He looks up as Sixshot comes into view, very much noticing the extra care he's put into his frame. He thoughtlessly rubs his fingers over his own forearm, where something might be installed there eventually. It was uncomfortable to think about.

"Special occasion?" he asks good-naturedly,"You look good."