'Staying calm' and 'wait' were, in the best of circumstances, not things Cliffjumper was good at, really. And while he glared at the closed door fit to melt it had his optics actually been strong enough lasers, he was doing a rather good job of curling up against the head of the berth, against the wall.

Basically making himself even smaller, in some - probably sub-concious - attempt at going unnoticed.

::Time? There ain't no time! You heard what he said, an' what she--!:: Despite the physical proof of Cliffjumper not feeling good about things at all, his words over the comm was laced with nothing but strident anger.

::How? We don't even slaggin' know where here is, or what it looks like.:: Cliffjumper's optics bounced around the room, but avoided actually looking down on the surface he was looking at, or back at Optimus.