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Another night without recharge. "Worries truly are the death of sleep." Ratchet muses. "The humans are at least correct in that regard." With that thought he rises from the berth and heads to the console to delve into the human internet, that fountain of enlightenment, bottomless well of misinformation, propaganda and, well, trash to put it simply. A quick scan reveals Autobots and human friends alike deep into their own recharge cycles. "Sleep deprivation seems like as good a subject to research at this hour as any." First stop Wikipedia then on to scientific journals. From there... a quote at the top of a page captures Ratchet's attention.
"Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
~William Shakespeare, Macbeth"
After a few careful retranslations and inquiries into the metaphors, Ratchet resets his optics and clears the static from his vocalizer and reads the quote aloud. Understanding strikes like a shot straight to the spark. This, this goes far beyond medically induced stasis or prescribed recharge cycles. "Chief nourisher in life's feast, indeed. All of those vorns and I don't think I truly understood." With a shake of his helm and a quiet chuckle he rises and heads back to the berth, to knit that raveled sleeve of care.
Tomorrow is time enough for worries, great and small.