It had felt good to do something, to save someone. He understood, a little bit, maybe, what Wing might have felt.

Maybe. It still hadn't felt like enough, not when he'd seen Vandal's condition. It felt selfish, but he'd lost Rodimus. He was on the verge of losing Wing. He just wanted this to be...good.

He steps into the room, as quietly as he can, settling down next to the berth, trying to find some hope in the click and beep of the machines.