Ratchet follows York's gaze and bites down very firmly on a grin.

"Tenacious, that one," he says, then nods. "Yeah. I'm--" He stops after a second, faltering. He's not at all sure if any of his skills as a Cybertronian will translate into his human frame, and he's been trying so hard not to think about not being able to do surgery it didn't occur to him that it might also apply to defending himself. "Hell. I think I am, anyway. Like I said, this place messed with me. But last time I checked I was a crack shot, and I'm a lot more dangerous with a knife or a scalpel in my hand, but I can hold my own."