Tarn won't find his answers in the look on Megatron's face as he glares back at him. His expression is only stern and frustrated, that same bone-deep, weary frustration that seems to be his default now.

He curses under his breath, and stoops to haul Tarn's arm over his shoulders so he can pull him up. For a moment he looks as if he's about to say something else, but instead as he straightens up he looks back in the direction he came from, scanning the wreckage for a glimpse of obnoxious orange flame decals.

"Rodimus," he barks. That idiot had better not have gotten caught in the god damn crossfire.