"I, ah. I'm not sure. I sort of--hmm. Forgot, at the time. That people do that here occasionally." Ratchet shifts, looking painfully awkward again before he shakes his helm, shrugging it off. "I didn't remember until Magnus reminded me, after I woke up. And, I'm fine, for the most part. Have a few extra scratches on my spark casing, but no lasting damage.

"Anyway, regardless, of course I did. You're my patient. Bad professional practice, to just let you short out on my floor." Ratchet doesn't look at Krok, too tired and raw to keep defending himself against questions of why. Krok isn't the first one to ask, and he won't be the last, and Ratchet doesn't know how to explain why he gives a damn, like it's something he could turn on and off at a whim.