... Hmn.

[Granted, he was smaller, but, then again so was Ratchet... so...]

Hold still.

[And that's the only warning before he bends, and awkwardly lifts the medic. Water sloshes around in places, and his joints are protesting - he'd really like to just curl up and get warm and dry and be miserable for a while. But, in true stubborn old aft fashion, he starts marching back the way they'd come.]