Sixshot decides to walk within reach, so First Aid reaches out and takes his cheeks between his hands, tugging him closer, and then bonks their masks together. He lets him go a moment later, then reaches for Rampage. Come here and get a proper hug.

He's so very glad to see them.

"A lot fewer than I'd like." The need to combine was something that still burned in his circuits. Tarn essentially accentuated the feeling of wrongness that was individualism. Still, First Aid was completely oblivious that he didn't make sense; a nice concoction of pain drugs and healing brain damage made his lucidness come and go. Ratchet was right to keep him away from work still.

"Where have you been hiding?"