Ultra Magnus often gazed at the destroyed part of his frame.

Ratchet had constructed a new, claw-like appendage to replace Ultra Magnus' lost servo. As a result, the commander was briefly detained from active duty, as Ratchet required that he undergo therapy before testing his new appendage in combat.

And it was frustrating.

No matter how hard he tried to keep his emotions detained and keep himself under control.

Magnus couldn't.

No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he was on the mend, that the replacement servo would be useful at some point, he couldn't. It was aggravating, infuriating, and he couldn't even take his frustrations out on it.

The tearing of mesh and plating on his arm strut left him useless and stuck in the Autobot Base. Ratchet was insistent that he rested and recovered, and so was Optimus. So he sat alone in his burthroom, leaning over his leg struts and flexing the clawed digits of the servo that wasn't his.

The red and blue mech let out an undignified sound, his good servo pinching at his nose ridge, his bright blue optics closing as he pushed himself to his pedes. There was no point in moping like a sparkling, he was a commander after all.

He could find a way to be of use.

The door to his burthroom slid open and he was about to step out when he glanced up and paused. Delightful.

Another huff escaped the Wrecker commander, and he crossed his arms over his chassis, a frown tugging at his lip plating, "Do you always display the same disregard for authority and the sanctity of a commander's quarters?"