Hammer It Out

[Ultra Magnus]

OOC: Month 2 Week 1 Day 2. Semi-private.

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Ultra Magnus specifically blocked out this part of his schedule. Completely unavailable for anything, even a watch, unless an emergency crops up. And he has Botanica's… perhaps "blessing" isn't the correct word. She certainly made it stronger than a suggestion that he vent the anger he can't manage himself or with the aid of Perceptor's coding patches.

So he has his medically-sanctioned free time in the simulation room; there's a simple password lock on the door for privacy's sake, but odds are anyone who knows him even halfway well might be able to guess it, and if he's needed in case of an emergency, his radio remains open. But in the solitude of his simulation – a recreation of a grim, joyless room from some nondescript place on Cybertron – he can at least briefly tune out the ship and everyone on it, focus on his opponent.

His battered holographic opponent, some generic blue and white truck robot, broad-chested with large tires in its shoulders and protective bars across its headlamps, retreats a step or two, on the defensive. Around them, scattered across the floor, some parts piled in heaps along the walls and in the corners, lay the broken and beaten corpses of his other opponents, all fallen. All crushed and torn with his bare hands. They suffered as much as holograms can suffer. Some part of him hopes it hurt badly before they "died". That twisted part of him hopes he made them hurt as much as he aches right now, trembling, cycling air in deep draughts. This anger isn't him; this much violence isn't him. It's something else, someone else, some monster in his head buried so snugly it threatens to make him physically ill.

Infuriated and frustrated, Magnus roars his outrage and charges his opponent; the doomed generic staggers back, startled. It's his last mistake.

The crash can be heard in the corridor even with the safety protocols running.

[Mirage]

Magnus's passcodes really are simple. Mirage was prepared to bypass them, however, that proves unnecessary. In short order, he unlocks the door- but he pauses before actually opening the door and entering.

He leans his head against the wall. This may be a mistake. Mirage has been thinking lately, though, a lot, especially since Perceptor told Mirage about Magnus's problem.

Finally, the spy enters the room-after making sure the room will be locked with a much better security key when the door closes- and steps quickly to one side of the door. Thanks to the sparseness of the sim, the puts Mirage against the far wall and (hopefully) out of danger. For now.

After taking in Ultra Magnus's opponent, Mirage wonders again if this wasn't a Very Bad Idea^TM.

"Hello Magnus," Mirage says, just loud enough to be heard. His tone is very non-confrontational as he continues, "We need to discuss some things, so I hope you'll not throw me out immediately."

"I would like to apologize."

[Ultra Magnus]

Magnus is just winding up to beat the generic's head in with its own arm when that voice intrudes on his fugue. He pauses mid-swing and turns, slowly, revealing the splash of energon bisecting his face with a ragged pink line and the spatters of fuel and other fluids staining his armour up and down the front. For a split second, there's still murder in his wide-eyed stare. When it fades, confusion sifts in to feel the gap.

"…Wh… at?" he asks, voice gravel-rough.

[Mirage]

Mirage shifts his position a bit against the wall so that he is leaning against, legs crossed and slightly outstretched, arms crossed over his chest. He is looking more down that directly at Ultra Magnus, because with the City Commander in this state, Mirage fears direct optic contact might be considered a challenge.

"I said," he repeats, "That I wish to apologize."

"During our last... more private discussion, neither of us were at our best. We both said things- and misread thing said- that were beyond the pale."

"You were right. I was in no shape, physically or mentally. I should have recognized that fact and walked away, instead of being a stubborn aft."

"So I am sorry."

Hopefully, Magnus won't take offense at the fact that those last words seem not to roll of Mirage's tongue so easy as others. The spy does not often apologize to anyone, after all.

[Ultra Magnus]

Magnus is still caught up in a haze of bloodthirst and hatred. He scowls at Mirage, not quite comprehending, but lowers his weapon. The generic, still just on the conscious side of functional, looks frantically from his now off-guard attacker to Mirage as if expecting Mirage to help him. There may even be something a touch familiar to the spy in those pleading yellow optics.

"You–" Magnus blinks. Sorry? Mirage is sorry? For the things he said? Magnus shakes his head once, ponderously, confusion giving way to anger. "You're sorry?" he hisses. "You think that makes it all right?" His head is a morass of pain, the urge to hurt and break screaming against his better sense, against the suppression codes. He shouldn't hurt Mirage no matter how much he wants it. It makes his entire body ache, and where he battles his own fists down to restrain himself, he has nothing left to stop the words. "You think," he snarls, "that saying you're sorry makes it better? Absolves you?" He points at Mirage with the limb in his hand. "You really think I'll just forgive you so readily?"

The generic, meanwhile, sees his chance with Magnus distracted. Unsteadily, he tries to creep away as best he can. The scraping sounds he makes, however, draw Magnus's attention back to him – and bring one massive foot down on his leg, crushing it. His cry of pain goes ignored, as do Magnus's own internal screams. He hurts; he's angry; Mirage makes it worse; Mirage is a fellow Autobot; Mirage should suffer. Magnus wants him to suffer for daring to come in here, for seeing him exposed like this.

But he can't do that. The code and his self-control slam hard into the need to make Mirage pay for his insolence in coming here and Magnus falters, grimacing.

[Mirage]

Mirage watches Magnus's painful display of emotion with his own optics still downcast. It physically pains Mirage to see Ultra Magnus in this state.

"I do not think those words absolve me of anything at all. Words are mere words." Yet they can do so much harm....

As Magnus crushes the leg of his generic opponent, Mirage finally looks directly at the former Wrecker leader. "If you forgive me at all, I will be surprised. To forgive another, one must first forgive themselves... and I'm not sure you will every do that." Mirage's words are spoken softly, in that same neutral tone of voice. "But I would prefer you as a friend, Ultra Magnus, than as an enemy. And so I must try...."

Mirage rubs at the bridge of his nose as his voice trails off, looks at the broken generic and asks, "Your opponent seems spent. Would you like another?"

They are in the sim room. If it will help Magnus for him to beat Mirage into twisted scrap, then here is the place to offer.

[Ultra Magnus]

Mirage's stare and Mirage's words are not a challenge. Magnus knows this. But all he sees is a challenge to his right, to his decision to wring every last bit of pain he can from his victim. He snarls and lifts the limb in his hand to sling it squarely at the dilettante's head. He hopes it snaps off at the neck with the blow.

The meaning of Mirage's offer seeps through the rage and pain just as he shifts his weight into the throw. And though he hasn't had time yet to collect himself, he can't let himself lose control like this. He will not become the monster Shockwave left in his head. He will not abuse Mirage to stave off the ache of his self-loathing. It physically hurts to turn aside his attack, but he pitches his weapon into the far left wall instead of at Mirage, then his own momentum carries him face-first into the wall directly behind him.

"No!" he screams, clutching his head in both hands and ramming the wall with his forehead crest once, twice, three times. Again and again, growling "I can't," in a broken chorus while his whole body shudders with the impacts. Mirage shouldn't have come here. He should have turned Mirage away. Waited until he'd had his cooldown. He shouldn't have given in to the need to beat down anything opposing him no matter how important Botanica deemed it. He should have better control than this.

He's failing all over again. And he slams his head against the wall with renewed force one more time before going still.

[Mirage]

Mirage braces himself to dodge the projectile he feels sure is coming his way. The spy even jumps reflexively to one side as the arm crashes against the far wall, despite it being flung nowhere near him. Once Magnus begins to have his mental break- and attempts to break his own head- Mirage finds himself staring for several moments in shock before he hurries over to the Wrecker's side.

"Magnus. Magnus, please stop this," Mirage says voice soft but urgent, "Sim room or not you will injure yourself." As Ultra Magnus stills, Mirage hesitantly wraps one arm around Magnus's waist and reaches up with the other to tug lightly at Magnus's arm. He's trying to persuade Magnus to kneel or sit- something other than stand there so stiff or start abusing himself again.

"Magnus, please," Mirage repeats, "This was not my aim in coming here at all. Please...." He trails off and leans his head against Ultra Magnus's back, trying as he often does to comfort through touch.

---

Touching Ultra Magnus with permission.

[Ultra Magnus]

"Don't," Magnus starts to say, choking on the warning. Don't touch. Don't come near. I don't know if I can stop myself. But the words don't come out the way they should; they're tangled up in low sobs and he stiffens against the contact, against his first impulse to lash out. He fights it so hard it sets him to shivering.

He can't lash out. He can't strike. Mirage is a comrade, for all the things he said – not a simulation. Not a safe target. Not an outlet for the destructive urges still holding court in Magnus's mind.

"Get – get away," he urges through a jaw clenched so tightly the hinges pop.

[Mirage]

Mirage is nothing if not stubborn, and so he continues to hold Ultra Magnus despite the other's warnings. The sound of Magnus's jaw popping is loud in the otherwise quiet room, prompting Mirage to shift slightly to the side so he can look up at Ultra Magnus's face.

"No," he says, "No, I will not. You are more than this, Ultra Magnus, and I'll not allow you to abuse yourself like this. Not to spare me, certainly."

Mirage stretches up and tries to turn Magnus's face towards him. "If you want me gone, you will have to throw me out bodily, and I... don't think you really want to do that."

[Ultra Magnus]

For all that Mirage means well, and for all that Magnus knows this, it's still a challenge and it makes his temper rise up sharp and hot again. He can see himself throwing Mirage out a broken, twisted pile of metal. The outrage in his expression is plain, the scorn in his optics clear. He peels one hand free from his head as if to seize the smaller Autobot. Who is Mirage to defy him, Ultra Magnus?

"No," Magnus grinds out hoarsely, shutting off his optics, shutting out the world. He can't let himself give in and Mirage won't leave without a fight; he's been outmanoeuvred by his own weaknesses.

Still, his first thought as his legs buckle and he slides to the floor, leaving scrapes of blue paint on the drab, grey wall, as the first of many deep, racking sobs shakes him, his first thought is that Optimus would never have given in this way. And he wishes he had that strength now when others are counting on him, relying on his stability to be there when they need it.

[Mirage]

It probably makes for an odd sight, as Ultra Magnus's large form crumples in Mirage's arms. It doesn't matter how it looks though, or how awkward it is. Mirage does his best to ease Magnus's slide down that wall, eventually winding up on his knees, still holding the City Commander.

He holds Ultra Magnus tightly, but not so tightly that Magnus should feel trapped. Mirage doesn't say anything of substance, not really. He just holds Magnus as Magnus sobs, murmuring reassurances and trying- however futility- to convince Magnus that he is neither a failure nor a monster.

[Ultra Magnus]

Some time passes in that way, with Magnus curled in on his shame and anger as though he might crush it if only he folds himself over tightly enough. He's dimly aware of Mirage's attempts to console him and they barely scratch the surface.

Nevertheless, slowly, with stillness and those undeserved murmured words of comfort, the spasms ease and the pain subsides to a dull ache, mild compared to the pounding, stinging sensation in his head. His diagnostics tell him he's injured, but he can't see the way he's smashed and cracked open his helmet. He makes no real effort to sit up, let alone to stand.

[Mirage]

Once the sobs quiet and Magnus stills in his arms, Mirage shifts a bit so that he is positioned more to one side of the Wrecker. He reaches up, almost-touching Magnus's cracked helmet.

"Ultra Magnus... please, you have to be hurting. Dismiss the simulation and at least ease the physical pain."

Mirage would do it himself, but he has a feeling that wouldn't go over so well.

[Ultra Magnus]

"No," Magnus croaks, shaking his head. "I've had worse." And it distracts him, gives him a focus that isn't his anger or his loathing. So long as he doesn't think about why he's injured. Blinking sluggishly, he wipes away the fluid splashed across his face with one unsteady hand, adding softly, "…I'm sorry. You came to talk."