Ratchet reaches up to press a hand over the the one sliding along the scar tissue at his wrist, squeezing brief censure before he draws back again, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't appear perturbed by the hand on his thigh in the slightest.

"Yeah, well," he says, his voice bone dry. "While regular concussions are certainly a novel treatment for altered brain function, they're not necessarily one I'd recommend, so it's just as well. I don't mind."