Tarn goes down easily the minute that pressure is put on his injured leg. A yelp of pain is covered by a sharp crack of static from his maimed vocalizer. As Rampage bears down upon him, Tarn begins to thrash in an attempt to free himself from the pinning weight of his opponent.

The taunting words hit their mark as Tarn's processor spins, plagued with images of his lover’s disappointed and furious gaze. And, for the first time since his banishment, he realizes that Rampage is right. The thought that he may never be with Sixshot again tears viciously at his spark, robbing him of his strength. As he stops struggling against Rampage, his helm falls back against the ground with a dull clang; consumed entirely with crippling sorrow.

First Aid had won, after all.