The hands on his cheeks earn First Aid a low rumble of happiness and Sixshot lets his optics flicker off as their masks touch. When he is let go, he shifts his weight and moves to sit with his back against one of the medical berths.

First Aid wasn't making any sense at the moment, but he doesn't try ask just yet what was going on. The sudden information drop about his apparent past as a combiner was something Sixshot suspects he's not supposed to know about yet anyways.

"He's been underground."