*Over the past few weeks, he had remained in his quarters, dealing with several things. Here and there, he's left, gotten energon, ran into a few mechs in passing. But not much else than that. Every time someone might have seen him, they might have gotten as much as a dark grumble from him. He was in no mood to play games, or even so much as talk.
So when he found a small sliver of brown-red along one arm, it just put him in a worse mood. He had read about the infection going around on the journals, and figured that one of the times he was out he must have bumped against someone who had been infected and neither knew it.
Currently, he found himself staring at the Auxillary Medbay doors, growling. He knew several mechs were in there, but at this point, he didn't care. He pressed open the door and walked in, not taking note of -who- was in there at all, and just went over to one wall, mostly deserted, and sat down on the floor, one leg out, the other bent up, with an arm resting against the knee. He rested his other hand losely against the ground, and offlined his optics, growling to himself at the predicament. He was NOT thrilled, and would sooner just stay in his room. But, medical orders were medical orders, and if Prime and Megatron can't even ignore them, then neither could he...*