𝑺𝙋̶𝙍̶𝙄̶𝙉̶𝙂̶𝙀̶𝙍̶ 𓆪⋆

you. irk. me. and are continuing to do so. ...two-bit 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙨 over here.

oh, your audio receptors are working just fine. it ails me so to remind you of this, 'silver medal'.

definitely not the case, i have no wish to be hot rod's second fiddle.

i don't know. can't find an exact reason i don't like you, i just know that i don't.

if i could choose an autobot to die at random... yes, it would be stinger.

i don’t think you ever do… not to me, anyway. { but he isn’t one to harp on that fact, especially right now. scooting closer… } do you want to head to bed early tonight? i’m sure you must be exhausted.

you’d be the first wrecker to respect a medical professional’s opinion, really. but, i appreciate it, springer. { grinning an earnest smile, moving his hand to softly pat his thigh. }

i… don’t think you should, no. but i know how important your presence is. { medical expertise says he shouldn’t, as well as first aid’s personal feelings for him. decide for yourself, springer. }

{ taking a seat right by the wrecker’s side, kindly setting the cube into his palm. returning the briefly kept touch along his hand… } i hope tomorrow won’t be as terrible for you. i know you don’t like to hear this, but you can’t exert yourself in this condition.

no need to thank me. i’m happy to help you. { you can hold hands with him when you return, medic. retracting his medical mask to flash a smile, moving into the kitchen to grab the medicine and a fresh cube. skittering back over, offering out the capsules first… }

{ concern ripples through his visor before giving a small sigh of relief. finishing up the dressing of his wounds by cutting the end of the bandage. all done, moving to a stand! } thank you. it’ll take the edge off— i’ll get you a fresh cube, too. sit tight.

don’t be too proud to take some medicine. { especially since he would highly recommend it for any patient in the wrecker’s predicament. } ah— this isn’t too tight for you, is it?