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“I don't care if I have to strap you down.”
Breakdown almost shouted.
Earlier that day, Bee had fallen and received an injury to his helm that gave him a concussion. Despite that, the scout kept insisting that he was fine.
“I'm fine Breaks…”
Bee tiredly said, barely able to stand.
“No you're not. You're staying here until that scientist fixes your helm.”
“That scientist also has a name. And keep him conscious. I'm not finished with the diagnostics yet.”
Wheeljack almost demanded.
“Got it.”
Breakdown said, as Bee was trying to get out of his grip. Keep Bee conscious, got it. Breakdown grabbed the side of Bee’s face.
“Bee, what is 3:36?”
“That's my thing…right?”
Bee tilted his helm in confusion.
“What is the thing?”
Breakdown asked him, trying to keep Bee's mind awake.
“A racing thing…I think. Can I go home now…?”
“No you may not, sit down.”
Breakdown pointed to the table.
“No.”
“Bee, I'll make you sit down.”
Breakdown threatened.
“Then make me.”
Bee crossed his arms.
Breakdown then grabbed Bee and forced him to sit back down on the medical table. He held Bee down as the scout struggled to get out of the Stunticons grasp.
“Come ooon! Let me gooo!”
“No, your helm is damaged and it's impairing your thinking. You're not safe on your own right now.”
Breakdown tried reasoning with him.
“Nothing is wrong with me!”
Bee whined.
Wheeljack walked over.
“I can take it from here.”
Breakdown almost started to walk away before Bee grabbed his arm.
“No wait! Please don't leave me! Can you stay?”
He turned back to face Bee, grabbing both of his shoulders.
“Bee…it's okay. I'll be right outside.”
He leaned forward to give Bee a soft kiss on the forehelm.
“Promise?”
“Of course.”