Ratchet sucks in another long vent of cool air... before his shoulders relax slightly and he looks away, shuttering his optics and bringing a hand up to pinch hard at the bridge of his nose.

"He destroyed the leg with his bare hands before he cut it off. It's hard not to think about it," he says shortly, rubbing a rough hand over his face before he drops it back to the handle of his crutch and looks back at Shockwave, tired but no longer angry. "When I'm not busy, I mean. Makes breaks slightly less appealing. But I know my limits. And I don't want anybody forcing me out of here in some misguided attempt to make me lay around on a berth instead of being useful, because it won't actually help."