Attacked. Was he? Yes, Rinzler supposes, but... not in the way the beta means. He'd hidden his disk. He'd disobeyed, he'd fought Clu, and fingers twitch, frame curling against a burst of nausea as he recalls a baton-rezzed blade twisting to stab back. Clu was fine. Clu had to be fine, but that shouldn't have happened. Rinzler shouldn't be able to do that.

He shakes his head, but Asriel's already moved ahead, and the small motion sharpens, quick and desperate as Rinzler catches up. No. Not the medbay. The medbay was static, the medbay was trapped, and there was nothing the users could do for him regardless. He doesn't want to be forced into stasis. He doesn't want to be locked up in the hold again for fighting. No guarantee whether they would; all previous metrics had related to harm dealt out to users only. But Rinzler didn't want to chance it. As much as he knows his own failure in this, he knows he can't (can't) (won't) be locked up in this state again.

He remembers.

The other suggestion draws a lagged, uncertain stare. He needs to rest. He needs his disk (but he won't find it), needs power urgently. But he needs distance too, and the beta's room is a clear line of sight from Clu's. He'll be seen. He'll be seen, and he'll be found, and Clu will come to visit, not just him but every error that kept his enforcer from his grasp.

Noise is rising, the scraping whir choked thick with static. He shakes his head again.