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Being part of a team again was a double edged sword sometimes. It was good to have company again- both in battle and outside it. Having Bulkhead back was a dream come true, and though Wheeljack would have preferred to have the rest of the Wreckers back, he couldn’t lie that Team Prime had grown on him. Arcee was a hell of a fighter, Bumblebee had an earnestness to him that Wheeljack hadn’t seen for a long time, Smokescreen had potential if he actually focused on refining it, Ratchet was just great fun and Prime had proved himself as an acceptable commander.
And then there was Ultra Magnus.
Wheeljack didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. When they’d first been reunited, Wheeljack had hated Magnus passionately. But then they’d been forced together, and they’d had to mellow to each other. Then Magnus lost his servo and knocked Wheeljack’s perceptions of him out of the water all over again.
And there was the downside of teams.
No privacy to mull over his thoughts.
He was trying to find some deserted corner to just get a moment to himself. Normally he would’ve just gone to his ship, but the human military were hosting some sort of… something outside, meaning the bots were effectively on house arrest.
There was a sheltered storage area that would serve Wheeljack’s purposes perfectly well though. It was that area he was headed to. The base was nearly empty; the children at school, Ratchet tinkering with one of his projects and Prime around somewhere brooding or whatever he did in his spare time.
And of course, Ultra Magnus.
Wheeljack vented heavily- then grunted in surprise when his pede caught on something. He stumbled, just barely keeping himself upright. He looked down and his spark sank. There on the floor, sat none other than Ultra Magnus. One long leg was stretched out before him, taking up most of the corridor. The other was curled to chassis. His wrist stump was cradled between his knee joint and chassis. He didn’t lift his helm.
“Uh… what are you doing down there?”
No response.
“Sir?”
“Leave me be.”
The commander’s tone was more dejected than Wheeljack had ever heard. Gone was the sharp military bark, replaced by a tight, tense misery.
“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that, sir. You look like the pits.”
Magnus may have relaxed on his rules and regulations, but he still should’ve responded to a direct insult. Instead, he merely shrugged his overly padded shoulders. A grimace flickered across his faceplate for just a moment before Magnus schooled his features again.
Wheeljack frowned. Slowly, cautiously, he sat himself down on the floor beside Magnus. The commander’s helm twitched in his direction, but Magnus didn’t face him properly.
“Do you want me to get Ratchet?” Wheeljack asked.
Magnus shook his helm sharply. “No. I’ve taken enough of the doctor’s time as it is.”
“Magnus, Ratch is a medic. He’s not gonna mind you coming to him when you need something.”
Magnus pressed his lip-plates tightly together. “There isn’t anything he can do.”
“You won’t know until you ask.”
“I did.” Magnus rumbled, a hint of his commanding tone creeping back into his voice.
“Oh…” Wheeljack floundered. He was never the emotionally supportive one and he didn’t know what was wrong and he certainly didn’t know what to do about it.
Magnus’s frame shuddered. He curled in on himself, his denta audibly grinding together.
Wheeljack reached out, servos hovering just above Magnus’s plating.
“Sir? Magnus?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” Magnus wheezed.
“Yeah, not sure I believe that.” Wheeljack said, gently resting his servos on Magnus’s shoulders. He gently eased Magnus to lean against his shoulder before he fell.
Magnus tensed- or Wheeljack thought he tensed, but it was hard to tell through the shaking of his frame.
“Talk to me, Magnus. What’s wrong?”
A lone whine escaped Magnus’s voice box. He frame shuddered pitifully and he pressed himself against Wheeljack’s chassis. The sudden display of affection or need startled the Wrecker, but he dutifully pressed his servo to Magnus’s backstruts.
“Hey, let me help.”
“It hurts.” Magnus gritted out, the shaking of his frame increasing with his words.
Wheeljack vented heavily, pressing his servo tighter to Magnus’s plating.
“Yeah. I hear phantom pains can be pretty nasty.”
“How can something that isn’t there anymore hurt some much?” Magnus groaned.
“Think Ratchet’s the better mech to ask about that.”
“I already did, but I don’t remember his answer much.”
Wheeljack hummed in consideration. “Fair enough. Does it hurt like this all the time?”
Magnus shook his head. “The pain is dull most of the time, but these waves come and go frequently.”
“That sucks. There anything you do for it?”
“Wait it out.”
“Ratch can’t give you anything?”
Magnus shook his head again. The action was so feeble it pulled at Wheeljack’s spark.
“There’s nothing to give. Medical supplies are non-existent.”
“Aw, scrap, Magnus.”
Magnus shrugged aimlessly.
Wheeljack frowned thoughtfully. “Can I try something?”
Magnus nodded desperately.
“I need your arm.”
Slowly, Magnus pulled away from Wheeljack’s frame to hold his mangled wrist out. The whole limb was shaking erratically and Wheeljack was awestruck by the amount of trust Magnus was giving him.
Wheeljack took his wrist in his servos with the utmost care. He moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to aggravate the aching wound, and giving Magnus ample opportunity to pull away if he wanted to.
When he didn’t, Wheeljack shifted to rub his digits over each sensitive weld. Magnus stiffened and gritted his denta, but still didn’t pull away. Wheeljack carried on with his ministrations. The plating was rough and uneven under his servos, where Ratchet had had to weld the wound shut. Magnus let out a few pained grunts, but slowly, little by little, his frame relaxed, and the shaking stopped.
“That feeling any better?” Wheeljack asked.
“Yes.” Magnus replied in a voice weak with relief.
“Good.” Wheeljack smiled.
Magnus vented and leaned back against Wheeljack’s side. Wheeljack didn’t even bother to be surprised and just wrapped his arm around Magnus.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Magnus asked.
“Well, the Wreckers lost their fair share of limbs. We all had to learn to help each other out.”
Magnus nodded. He gave a sad vent and shuttered his optics.
Wheeljack frowned. “Anything else bothering you?”
Magnus snorted incredulously; sounding for just a moment like a normal mech.
“Dumb question, I know. But humour me, especially if you’re not going to talk to anyone else.”
Magnus vented heavily several times before speaking. “I- I lost a part of me. Not just my servo. Something else, something I can’t name, but I can feel it’s absence. And I try to tell myself that it was a small price to pay for stopping Shockwave’s cloning process but…”
“But it wasn’t. It was a slagging steep one.” Wheeljack said.
Magnus nodded.
Wheeljack gently drew him closer again, tucking Magnus’s helm under his chin.
“I know it’s rough now, and maybe it always will be. But it will get better. And you’re not alone. You got family now, sir.”
“Thank you, Wheeljack.” Magnus mumbled as he drifted into recharge, his helm lolling against Wheeljack’s chassis.
Wheeljack smiled.