Chapter Text
“You sure yer ready to get back out there? Ya know Tanner said you could have another few weeks, make sure everythin’s hundred percent okay.”
“Three weeks in the hospital, four weeks at base with extremely light work, and another two just so I could get everything I remember written and logged. I’ve been cleared over and over again by every doctor and medic I’ve seen. I’m ready to get back out in the field.”
“Okay, but when you start feelin like shit after we’ve been out for a few hours, don’t come cryin to me bout it.”
It was an odd thing; the relationship Mac and Jack had. Only three months ago, neither knew the other existed, and now the only way to separate them was by force.
“Mac. You can call me Mac.”
“I dunno brother, I think Carl’s Junior got a better ring to it.”
“I think you might’ve damaged your eardrums with all the shooting you do if you think that’s got a good ring to it.” Mac shifted so he was sitting straighter on the bed, hissing as pain jolted through his core.
“Think ya should stay layin down on account of the whole rib nearly puncturin a lung thing. Ain’t like ya got anywhere to be.”
“Don’t you?”
“Don’t I what?”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be other than my bedside? Being the army’s best sniper, I figured you’d be right back out in the sandbox after you got me.”
Jack rubbed his neck. “Yeah, I did have a few angry COs at first, but bein that I was the one that actually figured out what was really happenin, not to mention bein DELTA havin it’s perks, I got off easy. Besides, sittin here with you beats havin the sun beatin on my back for hours at a time. Course less you want me to leave.”
“No, you can stay. I enjoy the company.”
Seeing Mac back on base brought stares. All the older guys that were there had to do double takes before approaching to give him any sort of greeting. Patrick and Joe had nearly flattened him when they first saw him walking out of the CO’s tent. A lot of the newer guys didn’t understand what the fascination with him was. To them, he was just a transfer, or a complete new guy. It wasn’t long before he was the talk of the entire base.
Jack was a whole other story in itself. Mac being rescued by a DELTA squad was one thing, but having that DELTA sniper more or less demote himself to overwatch was something unheard of.
“I’ll be fine. I’m not even on pain meds anymore.”
“That’s why I’m sayin it. I’d feel better if ya were still on them. I mean what if you pull somethin?”
“I’m not going to pull any muscle while disarming IEDs Jack.”
Mac was usually alone.
Before he got captured, he never really got close with anyone on base. Patrick and Joe had made it their personal mission to socialize with him every chance they got, and actually became somewhat of good friends with him. But then shift changes happened, and they nearly never saw each other, never had time to sit and eat or just chat.
So Mac coming back not only alive, but with his own personal DELTA sniper at his back at every step— it had been a big change to say the least.
“Hey bud, how ya doin?”
“Hey Jack. I uh, I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“Why’s that?”
“Just figured you’d go back to your squad. Not that I don’t enjoy the company, but aren’t you needed elsewhere now?”
“Suppose I am, but I heard through the grapevine that you ain’t got an overwatch, so I volunteered to take up that position.”
“You what?”
“No one else come in to talk to ya bout it yet huh?” Mac shook his head. “Might get my ass handed to me, but the army ain’t lookin to discharge ya, even though I and my squad personally fought for ya to go home; think it’s bullshit they ain’t gonna let ya. I was actually fixin to up and leave in about two months when my tour was up, but knowin I get to leave when yer the one that went through a year of shit, it ain’t sit right in my gut. I agreed to stay signed up for another, on the condition I’m yer overwatch. Uncle Sam would be pretty dumb to say no to pairin the best tech and sniper together.”
Mac had a somewhat difficult time adjusting to it. The thought of someone staying in a literal war zone for him had piled a large amount of guilt on his plate. Even with Jack reminding him it was his own personal decision and how he would feel just outright wrong leaving him there, it slowly ate away at him every day. The thought of Jack getting injured or killed in Afghanistan when he should’ve gone home to the states made him nearly physically ill.
“Hope ya don’t mind but the squad guys wanted to see how you were doin. They’re waiting for the all clear outside.”
“Oh, no that’s fine. They can come in.”
The thought of having several people, several strangers, entering his hospital room just to check on him was perplexing. He should’ve been just another job to them.
“Shit, you look younger than your picture.”
“Clean up nice, ya know, without all the blood and dirt and shit.”
“There really was blond under all that. Who woulda thought.”
“All y’all shut up before I kick ya out. Mac, meet the guys; Worthy, Hern, and Munoz. Some of the finest guys the army was ever graced with.”
“Can it Wyatt, you’re making me blush.”
“Can’t get any finer DELTA squad if ya tried.”
“Yeah which honestly made us wonder who Dalton would give it up for. Gotta say though, you’d make one fine addition Macgyver. If it were anyone else, I think I might be a bit offended he’s leavin us, but I think I can make an exception for you.”
Knowing Jack’s unit was perfectly fine with him leaving them to stay with Mac didn’t make sense. Mac wasn’t ever chosen by anyone. No one wanted to be by his side.
His mind traveled to Bozer and his family, and even then it didn’t seem right to compare the two; Mac met Bozer when they were kids, they grew up together, learned about each other. Jack and his unit knew Mac through files, if even that. Mac and Bozer had known each other for years. Mac and Jack knew each other for maybe three days. It didn’t make sense that Jack would throw his plans for his future out the window just for Mac.
“Got everything? Pliers? Tape? Whatsitcallsit?”
“I have all my supplies Jack. I haven’t had anything to do besides organize my pack for the last month.”
“Got Doc Roe to sign off on all yer paperwork? Don’t think I can let ya outta base without a doctor’s note.”
The weeks in the hospital weren’t the worst, but they weren’t the best. Jack went to see him as often as he could, but apparently his CO didn’t particularly like the fact he was off base as often as he was. Mac had told him not to worry, that he was in good hands and he could spend a few days alone with his thoughts.
He lied through his teeth though.
Being alone with his thoughts was the last thing he wanted. He wasn’t really sleeping as much or well as he should’ve been. He was lucky if he didn’t immediately have a nightmare when he finally gave in to the pull. Every night he was startled awake at the slightest noise; a door shutting, something hitting a wall, a nurse checking his charts.
His doctor had noticed it, commented on it often, about how slowly his body was healing. Mac didn’t need to be told about the chemicals that only release in his sleep. He knew all about it, had studied it when he was younger when he’d broken his arm, and Loretta wouldn’t let him do anything until it was healed.
Falling asleep wasn’t even really the problem, it was staying asleep and actually getting rest. He had checked the clock he’d asked for whenever he felt drowsy, and the longest he was able to sleep for was just short of an hour.
He denied any additional medication that would make him sleep. With each restless night and pitiful hours of sleep came nightmares. He knew he’d fall victim to them eventually, but he wasn’t ready to fall back into that darkness he was in for a year.
“Talked to yer doc before I came in; said yer healin at half the rate ya should be cuz yer not sleepin.”
“And here I thought doctor patient confidentiality was a thing.”
“I’m serious man. Have ya talked to one of the shrinks yet? PTSD is a hell of a thing to have to carry around all by yerself.”
“The hospital offered their psychologist but… I dunno, I don’t really want to talk to them. I know it’s a really stupid thing to say because it’s literally there job, but I don’t want to talk to a stranger about if. I don’t— think I’ve actually had time to process it, that I’m out and healing.”
“You can talk to me bout it if you want. I know I’ve only known ya for like a week and a half, but believe me when I say I’ve been in yer situation. Not exact but pretty damn close to it. Talkin helps in the long haul even though startin it brings more hurt than comfort.”
The thought of talking to Jack sounded much better than talking to a complete stranger, as weird as it sounded. Mac and Jack were still practically strangers themselves, knowing nothing about each other other than their names.
But he did.
The next time Jack visited him, Mac spoke about what happened in the time he was captured. He spoke of being ambushed while out on patrol, when he had gotten out to check on a dune and their vehicle was surrounded in moments out of nowhere. About how he watched three bullets piece his partner’s chest and the guilt that dropped on him like a weight because it was his fault they stopped in the first place.
He told him about how he was tied, gagged, and blindfolded on the way to the insurgent base, then shoved into a holding cell with nothing but the clothes on his back, that how at that moment he wished they’d killed him because he knew what they did to American soldiers, and knew that they disliked EOD techs the most.
Nothing had happened the first three days he was with them, left alone in the cell with nothing but a dirty metal mug for water. After that time was when men started going in to question him, to beat him if they didn’t get the answer they wanted. Sometimes questioning lasted minutes, sometimes hours, but the time didn’t matter so much, because Mac kept his mouth shut with every question.
Having him purposefully tap out Morse Code on camera was something he hated, something he literally couldn’t escape from because of how he was bound.
The forth month of it was when Mac nearly broke. Not to his captors, no, but to himself. They never did anything that could wind up fatal, because if they lost Mac, they lost any sort of leverage they had in bargaining. They beat him with rotten wooden planks, or old bits of metal, or just their fists if they wanted to, and in the forth month, Mac’s mind seemed to snap.
There was a different man who was questioning him, and instead of simply ordering a lackey to hit him with something, they were ordered to waterboard him.
Mac hated himself, for not fighting back at all when he went under, for actually welcoming the water that was trying to make its way into his lungs.
Apparently the original man in charge of questioning didn’t authorize such a thing, and didn’t like how his captive was willing to embrace death. Mac never did see that second man again.
“Oh, wait, hang on a sec. Forgot somethin.”
“Okay now I think you’re delaying the whole thing on purpose. You don’t want to know what happens if I get cabin fever.”
“No for real, gimme one sec. I’ll be right back.”
Jack sat next to Mac’s hospital bed, quietly listening to everything Mac said about his time in enemy hands, nodding every so often so Mac would know he was still paying attention.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask any questions, didn’t ask for clarification on things. He didn’t tell Mac to calm down when his voice was raised, or speak up when his words barely made a sound. There was no judgement on his face or behind his eyes when he explained how much pain he was in. He payed no attention to the quiet tears that started down Mac’s face, or when the day turned into night.
Jack just sat there offering his quiet support to someone that was in desperate need of it, even if he didn’t know it. Because there was something about him, about the way he talked and acted that Jack had seen on a few other people in his life. He hated seeing Mac subconsciously show signs of it, even though they really didn’t know anything about each other at all.
Jack only knew that Mac needed someone with him, and he was happy to fill that role.
Mac only stopped when a nurse had come in to check on him.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to take up your whole day. Sorry, you’re probably going to get yelled at because of it.”
“Ain’t nothin more important than you gettin better. Anyone think they can yell at me for it then they gotta kiss my ass.”
“I’m not important enough to have you get in trouble over.”
“Mac, the army don’t send out DELTA units for someone who’s not important enough, specially not the best DELTA unit there is. Besides, yer worth in the army ain’t equal yer worth to everyone round ya. Don’t matter if yer the best tech the army got or the worst. I’d still be sittin here with ya.”
There was something about the fact that Jack was staying with him. He didn’t exactly know what it was though; a man who only knew him for maybe two weeks was acting as his lifeline, voluntarily staying with him not only in the hospital, but a literal war zone.
Mac said he wasn’t worth the trouble. Jack said he would beat those thoughts from Mac’s head once he was better.
He stayed in the hospital for three full weeks before the doctors okayed him to leave. The worst of his injuries all, or mostly all healed. His ankles and wrists healing well enough from his constricting bindings that there wouldn’t be any scars. He was mainly one big stiff bruise.
The day before he was discharged, Jack’s full unit had infiltrated his hospital room, sneaking in food and alcohol as a sort of celebration of his leaving. It was that day that everyone learned that Mac wasn’t even old enough to drink. Not that it stopped anyone from giving him drinks.
It made the whole experience so much worse in Jack’s eyes though. He was right when he thought Mac was a kid, but going through everything he went through before the age of twenty-one was unthinkable.
“What’s that?”
“Just a little somethin I called in a favor for.”
“Jack…”
“It isn’t nothin bad, just— figured you’d like it since the other’s gone.”
Jack was with Mac when he was escorted from the hospital back to his base. It was a short helicopter ride, then two hours in a Humvee before they arrived. The few people that saw him gave him nods as Mac led the way to the med tent to more or less let the lead medic give him a once over to see the extent of his injuries.
Doc Roe seemed like a nice guy, giving Mac a genuine smile upon seeing him in the tent. Jack had sat quiet on an unoccupied cot, watching everything Roe did, piping in only to answer a few questions about what Mac was given while in the hospital, seeing as he hadn’t got paperwork for it at that moment.
When that was done with, the two of them headed over to the Officer’s Quarters. It was there that the two of them were separated. The officer in charge of the whole thing wanted Mac’s first hand report of the whole thing without any outsider influence. Jack didn’t understand why they needed it from him personally. On a few days when he’d gone to visit Mac in the hospital, he was writing up his report. Some of those days Mac would actually talk about what happened, some he would sit in silence, appreciating Jack just being there with him.
After Mac had been pulled out, the base had been fully raided. Every inch of it had been searched over and over again for every piece of information that was there. Of course there were things only Mac knew, but he let Jack read the report, and all the information seemed to be there. Needing to have Mac physically tell them all the things he went through and any information he might’ve had wasn’t going to do any good for him.
But Jack waited.
“Please don’t tell me you’ve been out here the whole time.”
“Okay, I won’t tell ya.”
“I was in there for like three hours. You didn’t need to wait here. You could’ve— I don’t know, explored the base a bit, or met some of the guys since you’re a new face.”
“Lemme tell ya hoss, I’ve been in much worse places for longer. Waitin for you to be done was nothin. I know how shitty it can be to come outta a shitty report with the big man and not see a friendly face. Sides, I’m yer watch. I’m supposed to keep an eye on ya.”
That day had become a bit of a routine. Every day, or every other day Mac would be called to the CO tent to go over what happened during his capture, and Jack would be standing outside the whole time. Patrick and Joe had joined him on occasion, making conversation about Mac before he was captured, and it made Jack’s heart sink a bit more upon learning Mac’s experience in the army was pretty horrible even before he was captured.
They told him how Mac was ridiculed, how he spent nearly all his free time by himself. There was the normal hazing that all new guys got, but a small handful of guys just seemed to have it out for him for some reason. It wasn’t anything bad, mostly hiding clothes or messing up his bunk, but they did it enough that it got on Mac’s nerves, so he got them back. Neither man knew the full extend of details, but the teasing stopped, and Mac was given the cold shoulder from then on.
That was where Patrick and Joe truly stepped up in trying to get to know him. Having someone watch his back in the field was one thing, but not having anyone while at base was something different. So a friendship was formed, partly at least. Having the shift changes and him being captured threw any plan out the window. But seeing Mac returned, alive and with someone at his back, was something that put smiles to their faces.
There had been a day where Jack had been called for a report, which was a bit confusing. Jack wasn’t the one that had been in enemy care for a year, he had no vital information that could be lodged in his subconscious. But still, he went, explicitly telling Mac not to wait for him outside the tent like he himself had been doing. He was still recovering and waiting outside for who knew how long wouldn’t aid him in the least.
It wasn’t too surprising, seeing both his and Mac’s assumed higher ups there. They spoke of the DELTA performance, of Jack second guessing the original tapes, asking how he knew they were a trap. But he could rightfully give them an answer, because he didn’t actually know. He had taken a stab in the dark, going off random twitches. He could’ve been completely wrong with it.
Then they asked why he was leaving his DELTA unit, not to go home like originally planned, but to stay and be an overwatch. The answer for that wasn’t much different than what he originally told them when Mac was in the hospital; he didn’t feel right being able to leave when Mac was literally tortured for a year and was required to stay.
He left out the part of just wanting to be there for him. Hearing what the two other guys had to say, they made it sound like Mac was alone his entire time there. Jack knew what that kind of isolation did to people, and Mac as just such a good kid that he didn’t want to see anything happen to him.
Jack was told to report back in a day so they could finalize the transfer.
Mac not being outside the tent when Jack emerged was probably the only time Jack wanted him out of his sight. He had hoped that Mac was getting some rest or something to eat, but knew from his general understanding of how his head worked that he was most likely somewhere that kept his focused on a task. Jack didn’t blame him, only being out of enemy hands for about a month and a half wasn’t enough time for his head to just sweep any trauma under the rug.
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I figured ya might need it. Read lotta yer reports and that thing seemed to come up more often than not. You havin that is like me and my side piece.”
“Seriously, thank you.”
Jack had made his way through the base, guys he passed giving his stares, some nods, a few even greeted him in passing, until he reached their bunk. It was a smaller tent than the others, a private one that was used for other upper officers when visiting. It was their temporary lodging until everything was settled.
So it was a bit alarming upon hearing several voices that weren’t Mac coming from the inside. The fact they were asking some pretty heavy handed questions didn’t help either.
“Shit I thought you died for sure.”
“What’d they do to you?”
“I heard they got like a dozen different ways to make someone talk. What did you get?”
“Can’t believe everything was superficial. You didn’t try to make a run for it at all?”
A quiet rage filled Jack’s being. He had hoped that maybe the guys were exaggerating in telling how Mac’s previous tour was. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stepped inside the tent to see four guys hovering over Mac, who was sitting on his cot staring at the ground.
“All y’all get out.” They all turned to look at him, surprise present on their faces. “Y’all deaf? I said fuck off.”
They quickly filed out. Jack had taken a seat on the cot across from Mac, and was surprised when he spoke.
“Sorry.”
“What do ya gotta be sorry for?” Mac shrugged, answer either lost or inexistent. “Hoss, ya ain’t got nothin to be sorry for. You don’t owe anyone answers for anythin that happened, and ya certainly don’t gotta apologize for their shitty behaviors. If anythin, I should be apologizin to you because I wasn’t here to tell them to fuck off sooner.”
“It’s not your fault they were here.”
“But it was. I’m yer overwatch, it’s literally my job to protect ya. I’m supposed to keep ya safe from any sorta danger no matter where it is.”
“I wasn’t in danger with them.”
“Not physically.” Mac flinched slightly. “Just cuz yer back doesn’t mean you’ll forget everythin that happened. Ya might, but it’ll take a while, and ain’t no one got a right to be askin anythin that might remind ya of what happened while you were in enemy hands. So if anyone asks ya somethin you ain’t comfortable answerin, and they won’t let up, ya let me handle it.”
Mac smirked slightly. “Even if it’s one of our COs?”
“Hell, especially one of them. You don’t know how long I’ve been wantin to introduce my fist to their jaw.”
The days after that had been difficult.
Mac had ended up being cleared for light duty, mainly landing him with inventory counts and storage cleaning. Jack had been with him every day, helping with things that were still considered too heavy for him to handle, but otherwise he had been sitting out of the way, per Mac’s request, telling him stories from his childhood.
Every now and again though, Mac would stop. His words and actions would come to a halt and he would just stand. It was a pattern Jack noticed; tents that were slightly larger with not many things in them, and the hours where day turned into night.
Those were the days Jack had seen on many others. The days where men’s minds wandered to a place from their past that haunted them, a place that took time to get away from. Not everyone dealt with it in the same way, and Jack didn’t have a complete handle on how to bring Mac out of it. So every time it happened, Jack would speak softly, telling Mac every detail of his family farm, about his sisters pranking him, his mom’s meals, and his dad teaching him about farm equipment.
Some nights had been just as bad, with Mac trapped in a nightmare and Jack nearly getting socked in the face when attempting to wake him as gently as he could.
It was after a particularly bad one that left Mac shaking and nearly in tears that had Jack barging into the CO tent, demanding they send Mac home. He was a literal prisoner of war. Being sent home was the last he deserved after the hell he went through.
“You think we don’t want to send him home? Fuck Dalton, if it were just up to us, he would’ve been stateside the second he was released from the hospital. We proposed it to our COs, and them to theirs, but some asinine fuck at the top of everyone doesn’t want to let him go. Don’t think we haven’t submitted more than one request for it. Hell, they wanted Macgyver back in the field a week ago. We kept saying his psyche was more likely to get himself blown up than be any use to anybody, and seeing that you’re here right now, looks like we were right.”
If Jack could climb the figurative ladder to whoever was at the top of the top and and kick him down to the bottom, he would.
It was that same night that Jack returned after having it out with their COs, learning that nearly everyone felt the same about wanting to send Mac home, that Jack found Mac sitting outside of their tent, staring into the night sky. He didn’t say anything, about how exhausted Mac actually looked, because he knew from experience that there was no more sleep to be gotten after a night like that.
So he just sat with him, offering quiet companionship in hopes of somehow easing whatever was going through his head.
It wasn’t the only night like that either. It had become a regular thing for the two of them to sit outside of their tent in silence, just looking at the night sky. Mac apologized the first time, keeping Jack up when he should’ve been sleeping, but Jack just shook his head, telling Mac it wasn’t his fault and he had nothing to apologize for. He knew how bad it was to have to go through that alone and he would do his best to make sure Mac wouldn’t have to.
After two weeks, Mac was actually able to sleep a whole night through and well into the day.
And then the weeks following that, Mac had opened up more; told Jack more detailed accounts of what happened, and that lead to him remembering some key information that could give their side the advantage it was looking for.
“You didn’t like— do anything for this right?”
“I mean I pulled a few strings but nothin that matters. I still got all my favors. Want anythin else?”
“No, no this is perfect.”
“I tried to get the same model as yer other one; think this one’s got a few more doohickies though.”
“That’s fine. More doohickies mean more ways for me to take care of things if needs be.”
It wasn’t as though things were back to normal, whatever normal was for Jack or Mac didn’t qualify for their situation, but it got better. Mac had been able to sleep full nights through, his zoning happened on a lesser scale, he didn’t jump at shadows or people yelling, and he had started talking to the actual army appointed psychologist who walked him through different techniques of what he could do if everything was becoming too much for him to handle.
He and Jack had started being around base more, meaning Mac actually outside of their tent for most of the day instead of heading right back after his light work. They had gone and sat in the canteen to eat. It brought stares of course, but neither let it bother them. And being there actually led to Patrick and Joe sitting with them and talking well through the afternoon.
It was the days like that that brought others to their table, from Jack saying something obnoxiously loud to gain their attention enough to warrant a question shouted at him, only to have said person jaunt over to sit and listen to what Jack had to say. Through that, Jack deflected questions to Mac, getting both him and the person asking somewhat acquainted enough that Jack no longer had to act like a mediator.
Pretty soon, every day they were in the canteen, they were greeted and usher over to a table to sit and chat with the guys there.
And after that, after nearly two and a half months, Mac had said he was ready to get back out in the field.
“I mean as long as those doohickies stop ya from going kablamo, I dunno, maybe you should have more.”
“I already said I have all my equipment. You even watched as Patrick checked and double checked on your asking.”
“I know, just can’t help but worry ya know?”
“Yeah, I know. This is a change for you, and a big step for me. But like you said while I was in the hospital, it’s only right for the best to be paired with the best, right?”
“Ah hush up. Yer makin me blush.”
“What was that other thing you said? The thing about were somehow metaphorically tied together and it’s like a domino effect?”
Jack raised a brow at Mac’s slight smirk and outward fist, before smiling and fist bumping him.
“You go kaboom, I go kaboom.”