Ratchet stills, surprise and a tiny hint of guilt flickering across his face before he looks away again, huffing air sharply out of his vents.

"I didn't think you'd be irresponsible enough to go somewhere for sub-par medical care because I'd hurt your delicate feelings," he says, but there's not nearly as much heat in his voice as usual. He pauses, his face setting. "...and I put enough work into keep you from falling apart as it is. It wouldn't kill you to actually take care of yourself every once in a while. In between me patching you up, I mean."