Ratchet feels the shivering, involuntary movements rippling through York's body and doesn't ease his grip until he feels York's head fall back against his shoulder, though he still doesn't let go. He just breathes slowly and carefully for another few moments, feeling his own pulse beat uncomfortably fast in his chest and his throat and the turns of his wrists as he swallows against it, shifting York against him a little.

"Nice work," Ratchet says, his voice low and even, drained of sarcasm or judgment or even relief, leaving a sort of easy confidence, like there wasn't a doubt in his mind York could calm himself down and he'd just been patiently waiting for York to realize it on his own. "Stay with me, all right? Describe what's going on, help me understand." His shoulders shake in a soft, huffed laugh. "We've got until the guards decide this might just be the stupidest escape attempt in recorded history and go on and kick the door in, but I'm not in a rush."