Ratchet stares down at First Aid for a moment before he shifts on his crutches and leans in to lay his head against the half-repaired expanse of First Aid's chest armor. The plating is warm and his dims his optics for a moment, cycling his vents, his face turned away from First Aid's.

"You frightened me," he says quietly, no accusation in his tone, just a simple statement of fact. "We nearly lost you."