The fighting had been fierce. Backfire could still hear the sound of blaster fire ringing in her auditory receptors. Energon was everywhere, along with the occasional bits of limbs and circuitry. Wait a minute... this was the medibay. She was in the medibay. 

Backfire frantically gazed around the room, hearing the moans of the injured and the dying and the sounds of various medical instruments. Welding. Drilling. Soldering. The sounds of circuits sparking and the occasional yelp or scream of pain. The medics were no doubt working overtime. 

Backfire felt around on the seat next to her, her servos twitching impatiently as they reached out and snatched up her holopad, and she clenched her jaw in anticipation. She was temporarily relieved by the cool blue glow that flooded its screen as she powered on the device and pulled open the list, scrolling through it as if scrolling for her life. Not her life. His life. She paused for a moment as dozens of names flickered before her optics, dozens of lives lost mere hours ago. Transistor. Datawave. Hackstream. Lackluster. Thunderhawk. Heatwave. Tinskip. Kettle. She scrolled through name after name after name, but the name she was looking for wasn't appearing anywhere. She continued to scroll, her spark racing and her systems running in a state of stress induced overdrive. 

"Come on... come on...come on..." she whispered to herself, checking, double checking, and triple checking her list. 

There was a gentle tap on her shoulder. 

"LONGSHOT!" she yowled in surprise, dropping her holopad on the floor and nearly firing several missiles in his direction as an involuntary reflex. 

"Didja miss me?" He asked, stepping around to the front of her and grinning widely. 

Backfire didn't answer. She didn't need to answer. Her answer was written in the anxious, worried look on her face plate that she had worn ever since she had woken up and began scrolling through her datapad, coupled by anger, confusion, and relief. Yes. Definitely relief. She was relieved that he was here and alive and...missing an arm?! 

"Primus! What happened to you?!" She yelped, jumping up from her seat and checking him over, noticing every single dent, scratch, and scuff on his frame. 

"Hey! Take it easy. It's no big deal. Just a run in with a rival decepticon sniper, but the doc says it's easily replaceable. The energon leakage is stopped up with a patch for now and when they finish with the more critical patients they'll move onto me, and you as well I'm guessing with the looks of your chassis." Longshot replied. 

She looked down and noticed the numerous scuff marks and dents on her frame and she shook her head. "Those are old wounds. The medics know by now not to fix anything that isn't fatal so long as I still function." 

Longshot narrowed his optics. "Are you sure you don't wanna get that fixed?" he asked. "I mean...not to be rude or anything but a lot of that looks like it must hurt." 

"The medics should save their supplies for the bots that actually deserve it. Plus, I prefer to keep my scars. They remind me of who I am, what I've been through, and why I'm still fighting. My scars make me who I am and remind me of my purpose. I don't want to erase them." Backfire responded. 

"Alright. Suit yourself." Longshot said with a skeptical shrug. 

Backfire nodded firmly. In truth, she was glad he didn't instantly start harassing her about her decision to keep her scars like most other bots did. Although she wasn't quite sure she liked the look on his face. 

"Y'know what?" Longshot said, stroking the tip of his chin in contemplation with his left servo. 

Backfire narrowed her optics. 

"I think I'll just go about the rest of my life with just the one arm. I've always wondered what it would be like to go about my life one handed." he continued, his face plate twisted in a mischievous grin. 

"What?!" Backfire snapped, glaring at him in shock and confusion. 

"I bet it'll be fun. I'll just walk around like this in public, scare the kids, y'know, all that sort of stuff. I bet my little brother will be thrilled when I come back home and show him how fun it is to have just one arm that I bet he'll remove one of his arms to be just like me. I don't care about the repercussions or the way it'll impair my functioning and make me very off balance and far more likely to get shot. I'll just prance around doing everything with one arm, and then maybe after the war I'll join a circus. Yeah! One armed Longshot. I think it has a nice ring to it, don't you?" the mech rambled on, his grin so wide it looked like it would fall off his face. 

"Uhm, no." Backfire said, glaring at him as if he had just sprouted another head. 

"Why not? It's my arm. Or lack thereof." he replied with a chuckle, lightly flicking her enstril with a digit. 

She grabbed his wrist and scowled. "Because that's completely ludicrous, rash, illogical, and not to mention the danger it would put you in. Do you have any common sense in that thick head of yours?!" 

"Nope." he said, smiling even wider. "And I know it's stupid." he added. "But it sounds like a good idea. And that way someone else can have the arm."

"Are you serious?" she asked him, quite befuddled by the whole prospect of his grand idea. 

"Do I look serious?" He asked, grinning like a clown. 

"..........." Backfire tilted her head, furrowing her brow. She didn't quite get what he was going at. 

Longshot chuckled. "Of course not! Buuuuut...." he said, making sure to add the emphasis to the 'but', "There is a point at what I'm getting at. A very blunt point, pun intended, but a point nonetheless."

Backfire blinked slowly, even more confused than before. 

"What I'm trying to say is that your ideology of keeping your scars is stupid." He said. "And now I'm going to go and ask the doc for when I can have my arm." 

"Stupid?! Stupid?! STUPID?! Excuse me! I'll have you know that I took several courses in..." Backfire started, outraged at his nerve. 

"Sssshhhhh." Longshot said, putting a digit to her lip plating and cutting her off mid sentence just as he was turning to leave. "I said your ideology is stupid. Not you. Your ideology. I mean, even looking at the word ideology, it's not that far off from idiocy when you think about it. And I don't think that any of those several courses are ever going to tell you what I'm about to tell you now."

"And that is?" She growled in annoyance as she pulled his hand away from her mouth, still holding it firmly around the wrist.

"Your function and intelligence do not define your value. And quite frankly, primus help me that I'm saying this, but Backfire I like you just the way you are. And nothing is going to change that. You're worthy of my attention and you're certainly worthy of a few patches on those scars. Now if you excuse me, I have an arm to get reattached. Are you going to let me go or are we just going to stand awkwardly holding hands during the surgery?" Longshot replied. 

Backfire vented heavily before she loosened her grip on his wrist and tersely nodded. It was almost as if even though she was upset at what he had said she didn't want to let him go. Her digits tightened for a second around his wrist before she released his hand completely and allowed it to fall to his side. 

"Thanks!" he said, smiling. Why did he have to smile? It was as if the mech believed that there actually was good in the universe and a chance at winning the war. He then turned and walked off towards a separate section of the med bay, leaving her standing there like a complete fool. 

Backfire shook her helm and then looked down at her dented chest plating and her scuffed up frame. He was right. She really did need to get herself fixed. But where to start, with all the various scrapes and scratches from previous battles? She was such a mess. He had said he thought she was valuable, but was she really worthy of repairs? Was she worth the replacement material and time and energy and medical attention it would require to get her looking at least presentable? She didn't really think she was, but she knew that if he cared, it was all she needed. If it was worth it to him to repair her scars, then maybe if she got herself fixed he would keep coming back.