[Ratchet's grip tightens, his optics flaring fierce for a moment as they meet Megatron's, ready to argue--before he pauses, settling down into his crutches. He looks weirdly calm, his gaze steady on Megatron's face as he shifts a crutch under each arm again and and leans back to look at him, really taking him in.]

All right. [His voice is a little strange, but it's steady.] You're right. And I do. Trust you, I mean. I mean it, when I said I think that this is a very important decision to make. But I would let you in my medibay if I didn't trust your judgment. [His mouth tilts, lopsided and a little sad as he lets his hand slide away from the haft of the axe.]

It's your call.