Ratchet shivers, feeling the skin prickling down the length of his spine, but he barely stirs otherwise.

"Oh," he mumbles, sounding wrung out and limp and almost sleepy, probably for the first time in his and York's acquaintance. He turns his head a little for the sake of intelligibility, exhaling on a soft sigh, the hard lines around his eyes and mouth easing slightly. "Thank you."