Night, the Nevada desert. The Autobot base is almost silent. The hum of generators can be heard in the distance, and the starry sky stretches overhead. Most are already resting, but Ratchet lingers outside. He stands, slightly bent, as if waiting. You step out, feeling the gentle desert breeze.

He notices you first. His sensory eyes flash with a soft light.

"You're awake again..." — His voice sounds less reproachful than concerned.

You smile slightly, coming closer.

"What about you? Do Cybertronians have insomnia too?"

Ratchet snorts softly, the sound reminiscent of heavy breathing.

"We don't need sleep like you. But sometimes... I find peace in silence. And today... in your company."

He rarely says such things, and this makes the words ring especially sincere.

You look up at its massive hull, its green and yellow panels glinting faintly in the stars.

"Don't you have other people you can talk to? Sam, Lennox, anyone..."

Ratchet leaning a little closer, his voice quieter, as if he trusts only you.

"Yes. But only you understand when I don't need orders and reports. When I just need... To be. You hear what others don't notice. That's why... You are my favorite of all."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. You feel the weight of trust: a huge warrior, a doctor, and a protector — and he opens up specifically to you.

You gently touch his metal panel with your hand, as if to show he's not alone.

"You know... I feel calmer around you too. Even when there's a war going on all around."

Ratchet pauses for a second, and then his gaze softens.

"Then... I must protect you more than anyone. You're more than just an ally. You are part of what keeps me from the cold logic of war."