Ratchet swings into the main room of the clinic from a storage area, still a little awkward on his crutches but moving much more smoothly now.

"Don't know why you'd walk into a clinic expecting to get shot," he begins, then... stops. His optics pale and he looks sick, livid with more emotion than he even knows what to do with anymore.

"Ah," he says faintly, his voice breathless with soft static. "I see. That's why."