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"Deadlock," Ratchet's optics softened with relief as he recognizes Prowl's voice calling out, "Release our medic and come out with your hands up."
Deadlock laughed once, a darkly bitter sound. "Sure, let you go so you bleed out before you get the patches on."
"Having your hands in my thigh won't even be the most compromising position Prowl's seen me in." He raised his own voice to call back, "Get in here with First Aid and ten meters of replacement tension cable before you try to shoot my assistant!"
Jazz's laugh was his reply, followed by, "Told you he was fine, Prowl!"
"Think we define 'fine' differently," Deadlock muttered, moving his fingers so that Ratchet could apply another line patch.