Chapter Text
Jack always blamed himself for Mac getting injured. It was a thought that was lodged so deep in his head that there was no way of it ever leaving. If he was there when the injury took place it was his fault, because he was there and he should’ve been able to stop it from happening. When he wasn’t there it was his fault, because it wouldn’t have happened if he had been present.
Mac never blamed him for anything, even though there were things that were explicitly his fault, because in Jack’s head, everything was his fault.
There were instances where Mac had forgotten the injury because there was nothing to prove it happened; no scars, lingering pain, evidence of visits to med. Jack remembered nearly all of them; the time Mac got stabbed, time he got poisoned—
Then there were the instances where there were scars. The scar from the gunshot that just missed his heart. In Como. That was the day Jack was certain he was pulling Mac’s lifeless body out of the water. There was just so much blood, coming out too fast.
That was definitely Jack’s fault. He was there, hadn’t paid close enough attention to their surrounds and got knocked from behind, only waking up who knows how long later, to see Mac lying on the side of the bank unmoving.
And then was the time where his hands were useless to him after literally pulling Jack out of a fire. Mac’s hands were everything to him, and having him purposefully put them out of commission for Jack’s sake only made the guilt set in harder. His hands healed yes, but there were patches of smooth, almost callused skin where the burns had been so bad that it was unavoidable.
Jack saw those scars every day. He knew they’d get easier to look at with time, and the memories wouldn’t bring as much guilt as they currently did, but they would always serve as constant reminders. Two distinct failures that caused Mac pain. And Jack would never forgive himself for those.
Now there was a new scar.
Jack knew the situation was bad from the start, but didn’t expect it to go in that direction. He knew Mac would need surgery, but not that he would be called from the waiting room and asked to make a decision.
“His radius was completely shattered, and it was a miracle the ulna wasn’t. Right now, the best plan of action would be to remove the shattered radius and replace it with a titanium one. It’s not a risky surgery, but you’re Agent Macgyver’s POA, so you have the final say in the matter.”
It wasn’t that Jack hated those conversations, but it reminded him that Mac’s life, or his well being, was literally his to control. And it terrified him. All the doubts and questions that arose, all the ways he’d need to apologize to Mac if he made the wrong decision, what would happen if he made the wrong call.
“Since Agent Macgyver is a healthy man, we shouldn’t need to worry about any complications during or after the surgery. He might get a case of PHS but it’s a normal side effect that a lot of patients show. The only real danger that might arise would be blood clots while his arm is still healing, but being put on blood thinners will lessen the likeliness.”
He didn’t care to listen as the doctor listed off any other option of how to handle Mac’s injury.
“Like I said, this isn’t without its own risks, every surgery will have risks, but it is the best option in my opinion. In the coming months, as long as he follows instructions and doesn’t push himself at PT, he should regain all motor functions in his hand and arm with no complications.”
So Jack agreed. He gave the doctor the go ahead to give Mac the transplant.
And while he was sitting in the waiting room, he couldn’t help the doubt that was creeping up on him. What if Mac didn’t want the surgery? What if he wanted a different option? What if he made the wrong decision?
What if what if what if.
Matty had come by at some point to see how he was doing.
“Still in surgery. Haven’t asked for an update.”
“He’s in good hands Jack. Phoenix med is home to some of the best doctors money could buy. He’ll be okay. And I know you’ll be okay once he is.”
Jack snorted.
“We both know how he’ll be when he wakes up, and I’m going to tell you this right now, don’t let him push himself. This is a big thing that happened and he’ll need help going down his road to recovery.”
“I know. I’ll be right there with him.”
“I know you will. And as for what I said earlier, since these next few months are going to be hell for both of you, you’re not grounded.”
It wasn’t until hours later when a nurse informed him that Mac was currently being set up in recovery. When she led him to his room, he had to take a moment to breathe. It wasn’t like it was the first time Mac had been in a hospital, or that he’d even had surgery, but seeing him there would always make Jack’s heart skip.
“It was a complete success. We’ve got him on some heavy pain killers at the moment and will see about adjusting the dosage when he wakes up. I don’t think I should need to tell you he’ll be more than a bit sore during the whole recovery. I’ll make sure to give you a copy of everything we send him home with, along with two different types of slings. We did a thorough look over his whole right side and while there was no major injury to the elbow or shoulder, they might be more than a bit sore and sensitive to move.”
Jack sat by Mac’s bedside for what felt like hours until Mac finally started to wake up. Jack watched as he slowly came to consciousness, watched as he started moving his fingers, testing his arm. And when he finally opened his eyes is when he made his presence known.
And then Mac spoke.
“I’d rather hear it from you than the doctors Jack.”
It still amazed Jack with how much trust Mac had in him. It was a different type of trust than it was while they were in the army; more than it was when they were in the army, a better type of trust. Mac could’ve chosen anyone else to be his power of attorney, but he gave it to Jack.
It was honoring, but also damning. Most of the time, Jack forgot, because he always did his best to keep Mac out of trouble, but on those blue moon days, it always slammed down on him like a mountain.
He told Mac what had happened, the surgery he underwent and briefly went over the aftercare. He watched him, watched his features go through emotions like a butterfly flapping it’s wings. The fear and anger that came out as he responded was something that needed to happen, either right then or somewhere in the near future. Mac lashing out was something Jack knew would happen, and since he was the one that put Mac in that position, he felt it was only right that the anger be directed at him.
Him instead of Mac internalizing and compartmentalizing and being the soul bearer of when things went haywire.
But when Jack said he would change places if he could, Mac said no, that he wouldn’t want it. Somehow Jack knew that would be his answer, because Mac was such a selfless person, that he wouldn’t want to inflict harm on anyone and would rather deal with everything himself, no matter how much it hurt.
Mac would always make himself the target if it meant no one else would get hurt.
So Jack had made a promise, to himself and to Mac, that he would always stay by Mac’s side, make it so that if Mac made himself a target, Jack would get to the enemies before they got to Mac.
“Be here when I wake up?”
Even if the enemy was Mac himself.
“Course I will.”
Jack would lay down his life if it meant keeping Mac safe.
“No place I’d rather be.”
And it was a promise he intended to keep.