Chapter Text
MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE
LA
Mac didn’t come back out moments later with his dad in tow, and a couple of extra beers.
In fact, he didn’t come back out at all.
Bozer, in a way that would have been comical in another situation, stopped regaling Riley with his plans to immortalize Charlie as the hero of his next movie and poked his head around the doorframe, very, very briefly, and caught a glance of Mac sitting on the couch, his back to them, head in his hands.
He withdrew his head, turned back to the women, his face as down and flat as Bozer ever was, full of concern, and gave a shake of his head.
Riley closed her eyes briefly, swallowing, and patted Bozer on the arm in comfort, even as she looked just as worried herself.
Matty and Desi exchanged a look, the Vietnamese-American woman not liking what she saw in their boss’s eyes.
She knew that Matty had more than some idea of what words must have been exchanged between the MacGyvers.
Heck, they all did.
They’d all heard Mason’s words.
They all knew Mac.
And they all knew Jim.
(Or, more accurately in his case, Oversight.)
THREE DAYS AFTER
COLOMBIA
Desi took out one of the drug lord’s guards with a well-placed kick, before whirling around to check on her partner, who was working on disabling the nasty surprise he’d left.
He should have been done by now, but Mac was off his game.
She’d told Matty that herself (not that she should have needed to, because it was damn obvious to all of them), told their boss that he needed to be benched.
Matty had looked her in the eye and told her that benching Mac when he was in this state was impossible (locking him in the Phoenix’s saferoom, even if it were undamaged, wouldn’t work), and even more dangerous, both to him and the innocents they strove to save.
(Even a Mac off his game was one of the best, after all.)
(And, implicit in the way Matty had looked at her, Desi was one of the best too, and single-minded when it came to her job.)
Desi wasn’t yet convinced.
Another of the drug lord’s guards rushed him with a knife, and Mac reacted a half-second too late.
Desi didn’t.
The man had a bullet between his eyes before he could do more than nick the blonde.
Mac turned his head to look at her.
‘Thanks.’
She gave one nod of acknowledgement, then turned away to deal with any more potential threats.
When both of them were at their best, they could afford a little distraction, a little brevity and lightness and fun.
With Mac decidedly far from his best, and her at risk of getting distracted because of that, she couldn’t afford to be anything other than Agent Nguyen.
Or they’d both get killed, not to mention the families of the clean local policemen that the drug lord had kidnapped.
Honestly, to avoid that, Mac probably also needed a kick up the backside, and Desi wasn’t going to die wondering if that would help.
‘It’s my job. And you need to get your head back in the game, MacGyver. Stat.’
Later, on the jet on the way home, Desi glanced at Bozer and Riley as the pair of them gave up on trying to get Mac to do something, anything other than destroy paperclips and stare into the distance, lost in his own head.
Truth or dare, tic tac toe, chess, three separate stupid stories, Bozer waxing lyrical about a new cake recipe he wanted to try, Riley asking if he had any upgrade ideas for her PlayStation controllers, five kinds of snacks…none of it got anything more than a perfunctory nod or uh, huh or no, thanks.
As Bozer visibly wilted, running out of ideas, Riley glanced at the other woman in the jet.
Of course, the hacker had picked up on the undercurrent of tension between the still-new-ish partners.
She’d kind-of been expecting it.
Desi thought Mac had to be benched because he was emotionally compromised. Because her primary goal was always to protect him, and because she was Desi, she’d have told him, point blank, that he needed to snap out of it. She’d have been cold and composed and nothing but professional because she needed to focus and pick up the slack she perceived from Mac being off his game.
And that, Riley knew, would have hurt Mac, because he considered Desi a friend, and because of that now rather obvious crush.
Sometimes, Riley wondered how emotionally aware Desi was.
(She was well aware that Mac could be a little oblivious sometimes – she wasn’t sure if Mac had realized that Desi was also attracted to him – but had expected better of Desi.)
(It was a little weird – more than a little weird, actually – to see Desi – badass, professional, intense, like a boss and about as warm as a stepmother’s kiss, according to Jack – act like a teenage girl with a massive crush around Mac, sometimes.)
(Maybe it came from being really emotionally repressed?)
Riley turned to look out the window.
‘Maybe, in our line of work, we just don’t get to have that.’
Mac’s words from that charity gala, all those months ago, echoed in her mind.
Firmly, she pushed away any and all images of Billy her mind tried to conjure up.
With Bozer distracted trying to distract Mac, and Riley staring out the window, Desi discreetly pulled out her phone and sent off a text.
Call your boy again, ASAP. He needs you.
FIVE DAYS AFTER
A CEMETARY
LA
After the service, after the rest of the crowd had cleared, Bozer and Riley stood a respectful distance away, both holding umbrellas, as Mac crouched by Charlie’s new grave, forehead resting against the top of the gravestone, speaking words they could not hear. He was soaked through, and his nice black suit was probably ruined, but he didn’t seem to even notice.
Matty stood between them, under the shelter of their umbrellas, and when they glanced at each other, then down, they saw the same look (grief and sadness and worry and fear and anger and guilt and heartbreak and love) in her eyes as their own.
Patrolling the perimeter, just in case Elliot Mason decided that this was a good time for another psychological blow, Desi caught a glimpse of movement.
A moment later, Jim MacGyver came into her view, but remained out of sight of the others.
She didn’t blink, or glance back at Matty, Mac, Bozer and Riley.
(Desi was far from an amateur.)
She stared at her boss for a long moment, before giving a single, tiny nod, and continuing her patrol, letting him melt back into the trees at the edge of the graveyard.
Desi might not agree with Jim’s decision that fateful day, whenever it really was, but she understood bad and worse better than Mac and Bozer and Riley did.
SIX DAYS AFTER
MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE
‘…and then, there’s a bang, and Cousin George says to me, we gotta run, Jack, the Terminator’s coming! And trust me, he was coming, and he wasn’t Arnie, and I was thinking, man, we’re-‘
Mac, Bozer and Riley were sitting on the couch, video-calling Jack on Mac’s phone, looking very sceptical and disbelieving as he relayed another one of his ridiculous, long-winded, pointless and plot-hole-heavy stories.
(Riley and Bozer had noted with lighter hearts that Mac really was smiling and laughing along with them, in a way that reached his eyes and didn’t seem forced, for the first time since the whole truth about Elliot Mason and his motivation for vengeance had come out.)
(Jack could always do that. Bozer swore up and down that it was perfect bromance magic.)
Then, suddenly, the call cut out.
Mac’s brow furrowed in concern, and he couldn’t help the fear coiling in his belly, as he tried to call Jack again, to reconnect.
(Jack was at HQ – wherever his current HQ was; they didn’t know more than somewhere in Eastern Europe – but sometimes, the connections could be a bit shoddy.)
(Still, it’d never cut out like this before.)
The call didn’t go through.
The gnawing fear and worry in his belly grew stronger, and he exchanged a glance with Bozer and Riley, seeing the same feelings reflected on their faces.
They were probably being paranoid, but could you blame them, after recent events?
Wordlessly, Riley held her hand out for Mac’s phone, grabbing her rig with her other hand.
She wasn’t supposed to trace Jack’s location, and it was protected with the best tech their government had, but she knew she could do it.
(After that, it’d just be a simple matter of getting eyes on it via a satellite – and she’d hack the Chinese if she had to to get the right positioning.)
Meanwhile, Bozer headed into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate to drink while they all laughed about being paranoid in ten minutes or so with Jack, once they got the connection back.
(At least, that’s what he told himself.)
And Mac, with all his strength, all his will, told that voice in his head that kept repeating I have a bad feeling about this…no, no, no, I can’t do this, I can’t do this, not again, not more, not Jack…to shut up.
Nine minutes later, Riley made a horrified noise as a live feed of Jack’s HQ appeared on her laptop screen. A second later, tears began to pool in her eyes.
Bozer dropped his wooden spoon, not caring that it fell into the hot chocolate, and didn’t even remember to turn off the stove before running over. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the image on the screen, the one that Riley was watching through tears, the one that his best friend’s eyes were absolutely glued to.
The building had clearly been attacked. There were still, unmoving figures outside. Bodies.
And as they watched, a rocket was fired, and the building exploded.
The rubble left behind was worse than at the courthouse, worse than at the bottom of that elevator shaft.
Operating entirely on instinct, trying to tamp down his own tears and panic and fear and worry, Bozer reached down over the back of the couch, wrapped his right arm around Riley, who turned her head to bury her face into his shoulder, sobbing properly now, the left around Mac, who was completely and utterly frozen for a long, long moment.
After that moment, Bozer felt his left sleeve grow damp, and as best as he could, he squeezed his best friend’s shoulders in what little comfort he could offer.
‘He’s…he’s Jack Dalton, he’s more badass than two John McClanes, he’ll…he’ll be okay, he’s gotta be, I mean…’
Bozer, unfortunately, didn’t sound convincing to his own ears.
A minute later, Mac’s phone rang.
All three of them glanced at the caller ID.
Matty Webber.
Riley’s tears fell a little faster. This wasn’t a nightmare, or a mistake…
Bozer squeezed her shoulders tighter.
With shaky hands, Mac reached out to answer it.