Actions

Work Header

Of Triggers, Talks, and Truth

Summary:

Here, have some super angsty, emotional Jack and Bozer missing scenes to some early Season Two episodes. An old headcanon of mine that's been circling in my brain for literal years that finally turned itself into a fic.

All because Bozer's "A man came into my house with a gun!" hits a whole lot harder once you know about his brother's accident.

Notes:

While there is nothing in this fic that is, in my opinion, overly graphic or traumatic, check out the tags and if there is a chance that reading this could be upsetting to you, please take care of yourself and skip this one.

That being said, it's more emotional than anything-the show goes into way more detail about the accident than this fic does-so if what was discussed in canon wasn't too much for you, this shouldn't be either.

It always felt wrong to me that Jack never heard about that part of Bozer's past and there were some clear moments in season 2 that I always felt like would have been the perfect opportunity for the writers to work it in, but they didn't. So I did it for them.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There was no way Jack was going home. No matter how many times Mac assured him he was fine, no matter what his discharge papers from not just one, but two Phoenix Med visits in a single day said, Jack had no intention of letting the kid out of his sight for the foreseeable future. Maybe not ever.

 

Mac's hunt for his long lost, presumably dead-beat father-which, admittedly, had been spearheaded by Jack himself-had begun to bother Jack a little more than he had expected. It wasn't that he was worried that if Mac found him he would forget about Jack and the role he had played in his life for nearly a decade. Not entirely. He just didn't like how lost Mac was getting in his own head over the whole thing. He didn't know why he had expected anything less, it was a classic Mac coping mechanism, but he wasn't okay with it. Didn't like how James-Abandon Your Kid On His Damn Birthday-MacGyver was able to mess with Mac's head even when he wasn't anywhere near him. And the closer they got, and they were getting closer, they both could feel it, the more Jack was starting to think it was a bad idea.

 

But he had let his own insecurities and worries that he should have kept to himself get in the way and they had bled through in the form of anger, even though he knew that was the quickest way to hurt Mac. To get him to throw up the walls of defense Jack had spent so long tearing down. And instead of starting to fix things as soon as he had broken them like he should have, he walked away. The one thing he had promised the kid time and time again he would never do, that he would never, could never hurt him the way his father had, and he did it. It was part of the reason he kept ignoring Mac's calls, pretending like he wasn't listening to every voice mail as soon as the notification popped up on the screen in his hand. It wasn't some petty, childish game-well, not completely-he was upset at the situation and upset at the way he chose to handle it and he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to face those demons of his own just yet.

 

Mac wasn't the only one who excelled at pushing away his problems and pretending like they didn't exist.

 

Murdoc coming into the picture, at the most inopportune of inopportune times, though, that wasn't something he had factored in. Wasn't something he was prepared for. Neither was the guilt and crippling worry that came with the realization that he had maybe gone and screwed things up beyond repair. That he might not get a chance to ever accept that apology he knew Mac was waiting to give him or to brush it off and replace it with the ones he owed instead. If his kid got hurt because of his own childish insecurities, if he let that be the thing that took one of the last good things the world had going for it out of play, the universe might as well have taken him out too.

 

But it wasn't their time to go, and after the most stressful day Jack had been through in a very, very long time, he finally had his kid back where he belonged. Safe and, mostly, sound. He was rattled, but they all were. Bruised up from the roll-over, still fighting off one hell of a headache as the last of the drugs worked their way out of his system, but he was going to be just fine.

 

Jack had thought they were in the clear. He had spent so long, used up so much energy worrying about Mac, that he had apparently let the rest of his kids slip through the cracks because he didn't even notice that Bozer was struggling until it was too late. He had gone to bed as soon as they limped their way through the door- a clue Jack would berate himself later for not catching- barely taking the time to turn down the offer to join Mac and Jack on the deck before closing the door to his room.

 

Ironically, the deck was where Bozer made his way to in the early hours of the morning, long after Mac and Jack had gone to sleep. Well, Mac had gone to sleep. Jack was laying on the couch watching the minutes tick by on his watch, waiting for another two hours to have passed which would mean it was fair game for him to get up and go check on Mac. Again. He had thought it was Mac getting up at first but the quiet footfalls didn't have his partner's familiar cadence. Bozer then, doing exactly what Jack had been doing all night, finding himself unable to rest without knowing that his friend was safe after the terrifying events of the day before. He came closer though, towards Jack instead of towards Mac's room at the end of the hall, and eventually hurried straight past where Jack was sprawled out on the couch, onto the deck, seemingly without even noticing that he had walked past someone.

 

Jack swore he heard a choked sob before the door between the cool night air and the safety of the house fell closed but before he could get up to check, another set of footsteps came from the hallway, undoubtedly Mac's.

 

"Hey, buddy," Jack's eyes flitted between the darkened deck to Mac, illuminated by the kitchen window. "You alright? What happened?"

 

"I'm fine," Mac assured, running a hand through his hair and flipping on a lamp light before dropping to the couch beside Jack. "Was actually asleep. Heard Boze. He go outside?"

 

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "What's up with that? Should we go... Is he okay?"

 

"Not really," Mac sighed. "But he will be. You might as well go back to sleep if you can, he won't come back in until the sun starts to come up."

 

"You say that like this has happened before."

 

Mac's shrug was the only answer Jack got, so he kept on, pressing for more information. "I know I don't know him as well as you do, but I've been around for a few years now. And this is new to me. The Bozer I know? He ain't that good at hidin' stuff. You wanna start talkin'? Tell me what's really going on?"

 

"The Bozer you know has some secrets he doesn't talk about. Not to you," Mac said softly, staring through the living room wall as if he could see through it to the deck outside. "Not even to me."

 

"But you know what's wrong?" Jack clarified. "What's got him upset?"

 

A cautious nod. "I do. But not really. I mean, I don't know what triggered this one. There isn't always something, though. A certain date, a bad dream, you know as well as anyone how trauma can creep back in."

 

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "I get that. But if you think that was an actual answer, hoss? You're wrong. That just raises more questions. What trauma are you talkin' about?"

 

"I can't tell you."

 

"C'mon, man. You're seriously not going to tell me what this is all about?" Jack's worried frown deepened. It was one thing to learn that Bozer-who he had always thought of as the most open of all his kids-was hiding things from him, but knowing that Mac was keeping the secret as well was an entirely different level of hurt. "I can't fix it if I don't even know what's broken."

 

"This isn't something even you can fix, Jack. And I'm sorry," Mac shook his head, actually looking as if he meant it. "But I can't. It's not my story to tell."

 

"So I gotta go ask him?"

 

"I mean," Mac shrugged. "You can try. Won't work, but, sure, go for it."

 

"Seriously?" Jack sighed. Nothing frustrated him more than not being able to help one of his kids when they needed him, and he had never seen Bozer need someone as much as he did at that moment. "You think he'll shut me down if I go out there and try to talk to him?"

 

"Faster than that blonde in the bar did last week," Mac replied with a teasing grin that disappeared almost as quickly as it formed. "But... Something's got him upset. Brought some memories to the surface. And if there's anyone who could help him work through it, it's going to be you. Final call's up to you, don't take it personally if he won't talk about it, but I guess I don't see how offering could make things any worse."

 

"I gotta at least give it a shot," Jack decided, determined to help. "You really ain't gonna give me anything to go on? Not even a place to start?"

 

"Just... don't push him, okay? I wasn't exaggerating when I said he doesn't talk about it. Don't try to make him or you'll only make things worse."

 

"I won't," Jack promised, dropping a hand to Mac's shoulder before heading out onto the deck. "The last thing I wanna do is make it worse. Not that I even know what it is, but, you know what I'm sayin'."

 

Bozer was leaning against the edge of the deck, shoulders tense, silhouetted against the moonlight and city glow. Jack made sure to keep a few feet between them as he stepped forward and braced his forearms against the wooden railing. He didn’t want to crowd the younger man and push him away before he had even tried to help. He could barely keep track of the thoughts racing through his mind, potential jokes that fell flat before he ever spoke them aloud, and platitudes that seemed unauthentic. It was a rare occurrence, finding himself unsure of what to say. And to Bozer, of all people. Usually, it was a battle to get one of them to be quiet long enough for the other to get a word in, and the unfamiliar silence was deafening.

 

But he had to start somewhere.

 

"Long day, huh?" He asked softly, inwardly cringing at the cliche, but hoping it was vague enough to at least warrant a response.

 

The slow, uneasy nod he got wasn't much, but it was better than nothing so Jack counted it as progress and moved on. "You know he's okay, right?" That got more of a reaction, Bozer turning to face him, eyes wide, challenging and incredulous, as if Jack had just rocked the very foundations of everything he had ever believed with that simple question. "Mac?" He continued, hoping how much the unbridled fear in Bozer's eyes unsettled him wasn't obvious. "He's fine. Safe and sound there in that living room. A little worried about you, but he's good, Boze."

 

"Oh," Bozer deflated, shoulders sagging in what, if Jack had to give a name to the sudden change in emotion, appeared to be relief. "Mac. Yeah, yeah, I know."

 

"Don't get me wrong," Jack kept going, unwilling to let up once he had a foot in the door. "It was a close call. Too close. It was a long day for all of us, you got every reason for it to leave you a little rattled. But you can't go shuttin' out the people who love you, dude. Cause trust me, I tried that yesterday morning. Shutting Mac out to prove a point? And it only makes things worse."

 

"I'm not..." Bozer sighed, frustrated eyes flitting across the deck before landing on the fire pit and walking over, putting even more space between him and Jack. "That isn't the problem. I'm fine, Jack. I'm not trying to shut you out. Or Mac, for that matter. Yesterday sucked, but I know he's alright."

 

"Okay," Jack nodded slowly, turning around and leaning his back against the deck railing, keeping Bozer clearly in his sight without encroaching on his space just yet. The past moments replayed through his mind on a loop. Something wasn't adding up, there was a piece he was missing. "Then do you, uh, wanna tell me what is going on?"

 

"Nope," Bozer shook his head, eyes locked on the empty fire pit as he traced patterns in the ash along the bottom with a charred piece of wood that hadn't completely burned the last time they had lit a fire. "You're the one worried about Mac, man. Couldn't even sleep at your own place, didn't want him out of your sight. Go back inside."

 

"I'm worried," Jack corrected, bare feet padding silently across the wooden planks of the deck as he dropped to sit on the opposite side of the fire pit from Bozer. "About whichever of my kids is hurting. And unless my instincts are way off right now, I'm pretty sure that's you, Boze."

 

The gentle admission was enough to get Bozer looking up at him in surprise. "People don't usually have the guts to call me out on it like that."

 

"What can I say?" Jack smiled. "There's a fine line between brave and stupid. Seriously though, you know I'm always gonna be straight with you, dude. And I thought, up until about..." A quick glance down at his watch, more for show than anything. "Oh, ten minutes ago, that I could say the same about you."

 

Bozer smirked. "How many years did you and Mac hide the whole secret agent, super-spy thing from me?"

 

"Fair point," Jack admitted with a wince. Nearly a full year had passed since their first run-in with Murdoc, a year of Bozer finally knowing the truth, but it was still a touchy subject. "But I thought we were past that."

 

"We are," Bozer quickly assured, because the last thing he wanted to do, ever, was upset anyone. "I am. It's just, you gotta realize, Jack, that you're not the only one who..."

 

"Goes around keepin' secrets?" Jack supplied when he saw Bozer struggling for the right words. "Cause that don't sit well with me, kid, if that's what you were about to say. I can't do my job, can't keep you safe if I don't know the whole story. And don't jump in here with some bull about how it's my job to keep Mac safe and how my contract with Phoenix don't say anythin' about you." He argued when he saw Bozer open his mouth, about to interject. "We might not have the kind of history that I got with Riley, and I'll be the first to admit there's a certain bond that only comes from servin' in a combat zone with someone, but that don't mean I love you any less. You're not a part of my life only because of Mac. It wasn't some two-for-one, Buy One Millennial, Get the Second One Free special. Trust me, if I don’t want you in my life? You won't be here. I'm the greatest there is at shuttin' people out, Boze. That don't mean that you get to do that to me though. Of all the things I've taught you over the years, don't let that be the one thing that sticks."

 

"I'm not shutting you out," Bozer sighed. "Well, okay, I guess I am. But no more than I am everyone else, alright?"

 

Jack scoffed. "No, no that ain't alright."

 

"Then, sorry, I guess," He shrugged. "I appreciate you trying, and I know you're here if I need you. But there's nothing you can say that hasn't already been said. Talking about it doesn't help, it just brings things to the surface that I try really hard to keep buried."

 

Jack didn't know what to say to that. For as long as he had known him-and even longer, back when he was just the kid who sent Mac, and later both of them, care packages every month like clockwork- Bozer had been the one kid without secrets. Without past traumas that Jack had to worry about creeping through to the present day. He'd met the kid's family and listened to countless dramatic stories of his and Mac's adventures in Mission City. He knew Bozer. Or had thought he did. And the knowledge that he really didn't, was almost as unsettling as being unable to fix whatever was wrong.

 

"Whatever it is," Jack said slowly, choosing his words carefully, worried about saying the wrong one and undoing any progress that had been made. "Somethin' happened that's got you upset. And I ain't gonna make you, but I really think that maybe talkin' it out will do you some good. If you don't wanna, that's fine. We'll hang out here till that sun comes up and then we can go on with our day like nothin' happened if that's what you need. But I'm not lettin' you deal with it alone. Cause I've been there and tried it and that ain't the answer."

 

Jack wasn't expecting a response. He had almost expected Bozer to put up a fight, at least a verbal one. To stand up and storm back into the house, maybe even to hop into his car and drive off, pushed too far. That’s what Jack would have done. But Bozer stayed, and when he started talking, long after they had both succumbed to the companionable, if tense, silence, it nearly startled Jack. "I thought I lost him."

 

"Me too," Jack admitted with a shameful nod. There were a lot of things in Jack's past that he didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive himself for, but that would have been the worst. It wasn't something Jack was going to dwell on, though. Not until he knew good and well that Bozer was taken care of. "Scared me weak."

 

"I can't," Bozer looked up at him then, determination and fire shining brightly in his warm eyes, instead of the sadness Jack had expected to find there. "I can't lose him too."

 

It was the last word that Jack latched on to, that drew his focus more than the rest, but he moved that thought aside to pay attention as Bozer kept talking.

 

"And I know there's a really, really good chance of it happening one day," Tears filled the young man’s eyes and he didn't even try to keep them from spilling over. "It's why I was so mad when he enlisted. You know while he was over there? I didn't get a single solid night's sleep until he told me about you. Because then I knew he had someone, the best of the best, keeping him safe. Making sure he came home to me."

 

There was a pause, and Jack knew he was expected to say something, but he was walking in a minefield and one wrong step and it would all be over. "I think it was probably even harder on you than I realized," He said carefully, "When you found out the truth. About what me and Mac had been doin' since we made it back stateside. And I'm sorry for that, Boze. Hurting you was... that was never something I wanted to happen. And certainly the last thing Mac wanted. I couldn't begin to tell you how many talks the two of us had about it, middle of the night kinda like this.  How many times he almost walked away from DXS, hung up his boots for good because keeping it from you was so hard on him."

 

"I know that looking back," Bozer agreed. "I don't like it, it's something that I worry about every day. But asking him to stop? That's..."

 

"Like tellin' a bird not to fly," Jack finished for him. "I know. Trust me, I know. It's why I took this gig. Hell, it's why I re-upped, with the guarantee that I'd only have him, no other bomb nerd to look out for. I was one plane ride away from retirement, Boze. And now look at me."

 

"Do you ever regret it?"

 

"Not for one second," Jack promised, and there must have been enough conviction in his words that Bozer believed them because he nodded and continued.

 

"I can deal with it. Most days."

 

He knew he was treading dangerous waters, but Jack had to ask. "What made today different?"

 

"I thought I lost him," Bozer said, repeating the words from earlier, but there was an openness in his voice that wasn't there the first time. "And then we went to that parking garage and found th- the bodies."

 

Jack's mind began reeling, back to that stressful, whirlwind that didn't feel as if it had only ended mere hours ago. It hadn't been a pleasant site, sure, crime scenes never were, but it had been far from the most disturbing and traumatic part of the day. And it wasn't like that was the first time Bozer had seen a dead body. He hoped, as he could only assume all parents did, that it wouldn't be something any of his kids ever became exactly comfortable with, but it was part of their job. And a part of life. "You're loosin' me, buddy," Jack admitted. "Not sure how that was worse than all the stress of that creep takin' Mac."

 

"It wasn't that they were dead," Bozer wouldn't meet Jack's eyes as he spoke. "It was how."

 

"What, bein' shot?"

 

Bozer flinched at that, and Jack could have kicked himself for taking the quick moment in the middle of all the crazy to add in the little lesson he had while they were there, even though he hadn't known it would be as traumatic as it clearly had been.

 

"It was just like it always is in my dreams," Bozer continued, staring down at the cold fire pit, voice void of emotion because if he let any slip through he would break down again. "All I could see was Mac laying there, even when I knew it wasn't really him. But he wasn't there for me to make sure. I didn't know he was okay, couldn't be sure. And it was like I had just lost him all over again."

 

"You didn't lose him though," Jack reminded him again. "He's right there in the living room, worried about you, remember?"

 

"Not Mac," Bozer shook his head, frustration evident. Jack didn't understand. But that wasn't his fault, he didn't know. Nobody knew. Except for Mac, and it was impossible to keep it from him. Mission City was a small town, after all, and word of the accident spread, quick as wildfire. It was no wonder, really, that he and Mac had become friends after that, both broken and scarred by traumas of the past. The boy who lost his brother befriending the boy who had lost his mom. And they dealt with their grief in such different ways, Bozer slapping on a smile and doing everything he could to make the people around him laugh while Mac shut everything out and retreated in on himself. Neither process was exactly healthy, but together, the two of them had almost made one whole, functioning person.

 

Jack didn't know. Their time on the deck had made that abundantly clear. Bozer had thought that Mac might have told Jack, even though it wasn't his secret to tell. Mac told Jack everything, or so he had thought. It wasn't Jack's fault that he didn't know what had happened. Bozer didn't talk about it. Ever. But if there was going to be someone who understood, it would be Jack. Someone who had seen more than his fair share of trauma, but chose to keep going. Someone who had lived and served and fought with brothers in arms and not all of them had made it home. If there was ever going to be someone who got it, it would be Jack.

 

So Bozer told him.

 

Everything, start to finish, of what happened that day and Jack-for all the jokes told at his expense about him not being able to be quiet-let him get the whole story out without interrupting him once. It was only after Bozer had stopped talking, tears staining both of their faces, that Jack spoke. A choked "Can I give you a hug?" that Bozer barely had time to nod in response to before he was wrapped in the strong safety of Jack's arms, one hand cradling the back of his head, holding him to his chest while Jack let him cry more, years of pent up grief and the weight of dealing with it all on his own finally abating as he allowed someone else to help him carry the burden.

 

Things, surprisingly, didn't change after that.

 

Bozer expected they would, though he should have known better. Once the sky began to lighten, the first hint of morning breaking through the darkness, they went back inside. Faintly, Jack could hear the sound of the shower running in Mac's bathroom, though he had a sneaking suspicion he had only just got there after spending the rest of the night in the living room, waiting, ready to jump in and protect one best friend from the other if he needed to. Bozer headed straight to the kitchen to begin breakfast and Jack followed, plugging in the rarely-used coffee pot and measuring out grounds, setting three mugs out of the cabinet, knowing they would all appreciate a caffeine boost to get through the day.

 

Work went on as usual, picking up the search for Murdoc and Fletcher and that day faded into the next-though Jack did pretend to have one too many beers that night in order to crash on Mac and Bozer's sofa again, just in case one of them needed him, but they didn't and things slowly went back to normal.

 

Well, as normal as their lives would allow.

 

The haunted island was a new extreme, even for them, let alone the hunt-or-be-hunted game of cat and mouse their villain of the week Harper Hayes stuck them in the middle of. Jack hadn't known her long but she was quickly working her way up the ranks of Jack’s least favorite people.

 

Convincing Riley to take the gun he offered when they had to split up took a little more work than he would have liked. A moment of gentle reassurance in the middle of a crazy day that promised to only get worse as it went on. But he meant it when he said she was ready, and that he would feel better knowing she was carrying. Having Bozer pipe up and ask if he got one too, however, was the absolute last thing he expected.

 

Eager, willing and ready, though now that Jack knew, there was the faintest glimmer of trepidation in his eyes as he waited expectantly, bouncing on the balls of his feet in a move that came off more excited than it did nervous.

 

Jack didn't want to know how many years he had spent perfecting that act.

 

That was Bozer though, and now Jack was able to see through the facade and realize he was staring at a scared kid. A kid who had, admittedly, aced his Phoenix-required training classes, despite how upsetting and, no pun intended, triggering, the weapons courses must have been for him, but Jack wasn't about to hand him a firearm. Not if he could help it. As far as he was concerned, Bozer wouldn't ever have to as much as look at another gun for the rest of his life, let alone handle one. But he couldn't make a big deal out of it and cause a scene. Bozer had trusted him enough to tell him the truth and part of that trust was in the implication that Jack wouldn't tell anyone else.

 

In a move Jack hoped wouldn't appear odd enough to draw questions from the rest of their team, Jack unhooked the tac light from his vest and handed it over to Bozer with a decisive nod. To anyone else, it would, hopefully, look like a typical Jack Dalton joke and they wouldn't think anything of it. Worst case scenario, it would seem like he didn't trust Bozer enough to hand a gun over to him. Either way, he was giving the kid an out without him having to raise suspicion and ask for one.

 

The flash of relief in Bozer's eyes as his hand closed around the flashlight handed to him was all the confirmation Jack needed that he had made the right choice.

 

He couldn't protect his kids from their pasts. It was a fact that he hated, something he had struggled with since meeting Diane and Riley and the baggage named Elwood that came with them. It had only gotten worse when Mac came into his life. Tearing down his walls had taken Jack years and there were still days that he didn't think they were completely gone. He had assumed, wrongfully, that Bozer had come to him without that sort of tragedy haunting him. If Riley and Mac were good at hiding their problems, Bozer was an expert. But he had trusted Jack enough to let him in, and Jack didn't take that trust lightly. He couldn't go back in time and change things, as much as he wished he could. There was no way to undo the damage that had been done, not just to Bozer, but to all of his kids.

 

But Jack took his role as overwatch very seriously. There might not have been anything he could do about what had happened then, but he would be damned if he wasn't going to do everything within his power to protect his kids from anything that came at them while they were under his watch.

 

Jack was fairly certain that the island was haunted before ghosts from their past came knocking, but it didn't matter. They didn't stand a chance. Nothing did when it tried to come between Jack and his kids. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Notes:

I was a little hesitant to write this because A) it's a sensitive subject all around and B) this fic has more Bozer in it than probably all of my other fics combined, but if you made it to the end here, thanks for reading! I don't have a fic for tomorrow, but we're back to our regularly scheduled whump for Thursday and Friday's prompts!