[Ratchet heaves himself up from his chair and jams the door mechanism with one blocky elbow before he steps back and tucks his hands close in against his chassis again, his face unreadable once Whirl steps inside and the door slides shut behind him. His optics flicker away from Whirl's briefly but settle back, his spinal strut straightening as the lines around his mouth deepen.]

I'm sorry. [His voice is still quiet, but it's very clear.] You were right. There's something wrong and I didn't want to admit it, so I was cruel to you instead. ...not just you, either. [He dims his optics, wishing he could rub a hand over his face, but he shakes his helm after a moment and forges on.] Either way, it was inexcusable, and I apologize.

But I do need your help. And your... expertise, I guess. If you're willing.