Work Text:
‘Teddy bear,’ yeah okay, Joey thought, eyeing the man who was apparently not the muscle as he walked into the pod. Joey called it his “suite,” as some kind of joke, considering it was basically just a larger, just as bleak and sterile version of the first room. It’s for everyone’s safety, he reminded himself. The other man, Agent Mackenzie, was holding a couple magazines in his hands, along with a white paper bag.
“Heard you like motorcycles,” he said, dropping the magazines on the 'coffee table.' (Joey doubted anyone would be joining him for coffee anytime soon.) Agent Mackenzie lifted the bag up. “Donuts,” he said, placing the bag on the table. Joey eyed it warily.
The other man sighed, and Joey could see him trying to restrain an eye roll. “They’re not poisoned,” he said, crossing his arms.
Joey frowned. “I didn’t think they were,” he said, taking another look at the bag. “But now that you say that…” Agent Mackenzie was stony faced. “...Thank you.” Joey said slowly, reaching into the bag.
“You’re welcome,” he said, turning to walk away. Joey took out a donut and examined it.
“My ex-boyfriend was a health nut,” he threw out there, and saw the agent pause. This whole 'containment' thing obviously wasn’t an ideal situation --seriously what is my life right now?--but he didn’t want to seem ungrateful for what genuinely felt like a nice gesture. He wondered briefly if Agent Johnson--Daisy-- put him up to it. “I can’t remember the last time I had one of these.”
“We’re not big on health food these days,” Agent Mackenzie told him. Joey was surprised, despite himself.
Not even a flinch.
“Yeah, you look like you eat a lot of junk,” Joey said jokingly before a bite out of the donut. “Ugh,” he groaned. He’d forgotten how good grease and flour and butter tasted. It was even better than the blessedly non-gluten-free beer Daisy had brought him the day before.
Agent Mackenzie looked amused for about a tenth of a second before turning away again to leave. “Hey,” Joey asked, and he stopped. “Thank you, for--” he gestured to the food and the magazines. “And I’m sorry about--”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Agent Mackenzie said, turning around. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “You were going through a shock, your body was making you do things you never thought you were capable of.” He shrugged. “Daisy and I can handle ourselves.”
He looked at Agent Mackenzie. He was big. Tall, with these ridiculous muscles that were, okay, not ridiculous at all, but did this guy seriously not eat healthy? How was that possible.
“Something else I can help you with?” The man asked, and Joey realized he’d been staring.
“Sorry, nothing,” he said, but shook his head. “You said you and Daisy could handle yourselves, are you--” Like me?
“No,” he said, “nothing Inhuman about me,” he said.
You sure about that?
“I just thought since you and Daisy work together, and you seem to know a lot about how it feels…” He trailed off.
“My body was taken over by an alien consciousness that made me hurt my friends and almost killed me.”
Joey stared at him.
“Oh. Shit.”
Agent Mackenzie chuckled then, just briefly. But it was deep and warm and friendly, the same voice he’d heard over the intercom when he first got “picked up.”
“Holler if you need anything,” Agent Mackenzie said, and Joey watched him leave.
‘Teddy bear,’ he thought to himself, grabbing one of the magazines.
***
“Hey,” Joey said, standing up as Mack entered his room at the Cocoon. “Is everything okay? Something weird went on with Dr. Garner and I haven’t heard anything.”
A look settled over Agent Mackenzie’s face, and it made Joey uneasy.
“Is Dr. Garner okay?” He asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. Agent Mackenzie shook his head slightly, rubbing a hand over his brow.
“Yeah, well, he will be,” he said, and Joey realized how tired the man sounded.
“What happened to him?” Joey pressed, walking over. Something was really not right, he just knew it.
“He’s sick,” the agent told him, but Joey shook his head.
“Come on, man, don’t do that.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “My whole life has basically gone to hell, and every time I feel like something is going okay, you guys pull this kind of stuff.”
“Just relax,” Agent Mackenzie told him, which of course had the opposite effect.
“Don’t tell me to--” He began, but could feel it before he could see it. Agent Mackenzie hissed, knocking his SHIELD badge off of where it had been attached to his pants pocket. The clip, probably the only metal thing in the room, had started to heat up rapidly.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Joey said quickly, burying both of his hands in his hair. He started to pace, trying to remember the breathing exercises Daisy had taught him. He could control this.
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” Agent Mackenzie said, brushing a hand over the spot on his pants where he had gotten burned. There was a tiny little scorch mark. “And I understand where you’re coming from, I do.”
Joey raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. He sat on the bed, feeling defeated. Things were going so well, then whatever happened with Dr. Garner…
What aren’t they telling me?
He trusted Daisy, he wanted to trust everyone else, but it was hard when he was so deeply out of the loop. Dr. Garner had been his sole connection to the outside world.
Feeling the bed dip slightly next to him, Joey looked up at Agent Mackenzie. The other man gave him a sardonic look, before glancing around his bunk.
“Yeah, sorry, you gotta request some more furniture in here.” He said and Joey sighed.
“I guess I didn’t realize that was an option,” he replied, looking around the sparsely furnished room. Bed, bookshelf and a small table, all made out of some kind of plastic or wood. I guess I didn’t realize how long I’d be here.
“I know it may feel like it, but this isn’t a prison,” the SHIELD agent told him. “As soon as we can get you back out there…”
“Yeah, I know,” Joey said. Agent Mackenzie nodded, looking around the bunk again. His eyes landed on the table, where a familiar stack of magazines rested. His face didn’t reveal anything if he recognized them.
“Dr. Garner is like you now,” he said, and Joey’s eyes widened. “We didn’t realize...it’s not good,” he said, resting his forehead on one of his hands. He really did look tired, and it made Joey wonder what the hell was going on out there.
“Is he--” Joey cut himself off. Daisy hadn’t spoken much about the different types of Inhumans, but she mentioned that some went through drastic physical changes. He looked fine when I saw him.
“We’re doing what we can,” Agent Mackenzie said, a muscle twitch in his jaw giving away that it was not going well.
“I’m sorry,” Joey said, sincerely. Dr. Garner was part of their team, maybe their friend.
“Yeah, me too,” Agent Mackenzie sighed, patting Joey on the back briefly before standing up. His hands were big and warm, and Joey realized how much he had missed human contact. Logically he knew by now that his powers only melted metal. But his sleep was haunted sometimes by nightmarish images, people burning, their skin practically melting off at his touch. He leaned into the hand subconsciously, immediately hoping the agent hadn’t noticed. If he did, he didn’t say anything. Taking one last look while he stood in the door, Agent Mackenzie’s eyes landed on the magazines again.
“Any requests?”
***
“Dammit,” Joey heard Mack mutter from underneath one of the SHIELD SUVs.
“Everything okay?” He called out, and after a few beats Mack rolled out from under the car.
“Fine,” he said, although it clearly was not fine. He had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, and when he stood Joey could see he and his clothes were covered in sweat and dark oil stains.
Oh come on.
“Everything seems to have decided not to work today,” Mack told him, grabbing a rag and wiping his brow. Joey saw the muscles in his arms in motion and really, who was this guy? Did SHIELD only recruit crazy attractive people to join their ranks?
I need to start going back to the gym, he thought as Mack stuffed the rag in his back pocket and walked over to a table. It was covered in tiny metal parts and what looked like a really big gun.
Yup, that’s a really big gun.
“Going on safari?” Joey asked, and Mack raised an eyebrow but didn’t dignify that with a look, keeping his gaze on the weapon in his hands.
“Latest model of sniper rifle with a stronger sedative. I’ve been trying to put it together, but the parts we assembled it from aren’t exactly high quality. Our budget isn’t what it used to be,” he said wryly, and Joey wondered how SHIELD had the resources they did when they found him. It wasn’t as if they were starting from scratch now, but ever since the run-in with the ATCU (AKA the people who tried to kill him, the people he was right not to trust one bit,) things seemed tighter than before.
“I can’t get it to--” Mack pulled the trigger, and Joey nearly jumped out of his shoes. But it didn't go off, just made this grinding, clicking sound.
“Jesus,” Joey mumbled, trying to play it off like he hadn’t almost peed himself. When he ventured a look at Mack’s face, he could see a smirk forming. Until a small metal piece fell out of the gun, and then he was back to frustrated.
Mack began taking it apart piece by piece, gesturing for Joey to sit down. He pulled up a stool. He and Mack (‘Enough with the ‘Agent’ stuff,’ Mack had finally told him one night, after seeing Daisy and the Director’s amused looks at the formality,) had gotten along much better recently, not that they weren’t getting along before. It was just easier. After the ordeal with the ATCU and Hydra blew up in their face (pretty much literally,) everyone actually seemed more relaxed. Mack and Daisy’s sole focus these days was working with Inhumans, not only finding them, but helping them the way they’d help him.
They even sat Joey down in the beginning, asking if he had any suggestions for the process moving forward. He wasn’t really sure what to say, considering the alternative had been...what? Getting taken out? They were scary, those first few weeks, but he was grateful.
(He did recommend stepping away from the sterile white rooms, however.)
Joey had yet to go out on any field missions, so he tried to simply help out around the base, keep himself and his powers in check and learn as much as he could about SHIELD. A lot of that, it turned out, involved sitting around in the garage talking to Mack. Sometimes Bobbi. Occasionally Daisy, who was constantly either really tired or really amused for some reason.
You know why, a little voice in his head whispered, and he quieted it. Yes, okay, he was here basically for Mack. How were the rest of them not? Okay, he was pretty sure Daisy was big on the physical affection with the other agent, but the two of them were clearly close. Plus, Joey was pretty sure she was doing it for his benefit sometimes. There wasn’t hiding much from Daisy, especially about the intricacies of being Inhuman. Been there, done that, was basically her motto, and she was constantly trying to help Joey when she knew obstacles were coming up.
Like the touching.
He was in control of his powers at this point, in a way he never would have thought was possible. But sometimes, human contact still seemed out of reach. Not to mention the (mostly) professional environment of the Playground; it wasn’t as if everyone went around hugging each other.
(There were a couple exceptions to this rule, Joey had come to understand. No one talked about it.)
So Daisy would place a hand on Mack’s shoulder as she watched him work, a hand that could create earthquakes and throw cars and fling people through the air. When the two of them would play video games, she’d elbow him with the arm Joey had seen her take down multitudes with. Then she would send Joey a look.
See? It seemed to say. If I can do it…
But still he was hesitant. Plus, was his touch even welcome? He and Mack were friendly, but not as close as him and Daisy. And while that felt familial, Joey’s feelings were...not that. And he honestly had no idea where Mack was in terms of sexuality. An ‘ex’ had been mentioned a couple times in passing, no details, no gender, no name.
Hearing the sound of metal clattering on the table, Joey snapped out of it. Mack was examining a piece he’d taken from the gun carefully.
“Is that the problem?” Joey asked, watching Mack stare at the metal.
“One of them,” Mack said, “I’ll probably need to smooth this out, the edges are too rough, it keeps catching.”
Perking up a bit, Joey held out a hand. “Can I see?” He asked, and Mack shrugged, handing it over.
“Knock yourself out. If you want to put some of your handyman skills to work, be my guest,” he said, and Joey just knew from experience that it wasn’t a dig at his construction experience. That was just how Mack talked sometimes, it was like, a term of endearment, maybe.
(The man had enough nicknames for people. Daisy had at least five, that guy Fitz had one, and he could never tell if ‘Boss’ was sarcastic or not when it came to the director. Their relationship was weird.)
“Not exactly,” Joey said, looking the piece over. As Mack watched, he concentrated, rubbing the rough edge with his thumb. As if he was touching warmed wax, the edge smoothed out immediately as the pad of his thumb ran over it gently. Satisfied (and sure that it had cooled,) Joey handed the piece to Mack, who was looking at him with some unreadable expression.
After a beat, Mack tilted his head then handed him another piece. “Think you can do a few more?”
Joey nodded, grinning as he looked over the part. Returning his gaze to the rest of the disassembled weapon, Mack hummed in amusement. “Thanks, Smolder.”
He almost melted the whole damn thing.
***
The first thing Joey noticed was that he was warm. For some reason that seemed incongruous, and he was confused, before the pain set in. He started to remember.
It was a mission, his fifth or sixth, and something had exploded. He couldn’t remember what, he just remembered saying 'it wasn’t me,' over and over and over until he passed out. And it wasn’t.
He was pretty sure.
‘I know, I know,’ a voice had told him, while he was still floating on the edge of consciousness. And with that he had let himself relax into it. He hadn’t been the one to cause destruction that day. Laboring to open his eyes, Joey blinked the blurriness away. He recognized the space; he was in the medical wing of the Playground.
Hearing something shuffling off to the side, he looked over and widened his eyes in surprise. Mack was there, sitting up, probably in the most awake-looking sleeping position Joey had ever seen. His arms were crossed across his chest and he looked pretty grumpy for someone who was conked out.
Joey cast a concerned eye at the slightly bloody bandage on Mack's head, and the gauze wrapped around his upper arm. Apparently no one had gotten away unscathed.
“Everything okay?” Joey asked, and he saw Mack stir quickly into wakefulness. He breathed in deeply through his nose, moving into a sitting position.
“Hmm?” He asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Joey looked at him amused, half expecting him to deny that he was sleeping in the first place. “You awake?” Mack asked, his voice deep and rumbly with sleep.
Deep-er and more rumbly, he corrected. He really liked Mack's voice. It was like a warm and fuzzy blanket on a rainy day.
Not that he’d ever say that.
...Actually. Joey felt a wave of heat make its way up his neck. Something about those words felt familiar. Like he had said them, out loud, fairly recently. Possibly through a fog of pain medication.
‘I know, I know,’
“Yeah, I’m awake,” he said trying to gauge his own condition instead of looking at Mack. He reached up and lightly felt a bandage over the back of his neck, and it felt like he had a nasty bump on his head. His eyebrow stung, so he assumed there was some kind of gash there. As far as he could tell, nothing was broken, but he hadn’t exactly dealt with this level of injury since he crashed his bike a few years back. But one thing was for sure: his whole body felt like it had been hit by a truck. A small truck, but a truck nonetheless.
“Gave us a scare back there, you're going to need to not do that,” Mack said, and Joey thought he was ribbing him until he saw his face.
“Wait, you’re serious,” he said, wondering if maybe the meds weren’t making him a little more direct than usual.
‘Your voice is...I like it.’
Joey cringed. Yup, he was fairly sure those words had left his mouth, now that he thought about it.
“Course I am,” Mack said, sounding a bit offended. Joey watched him, curious. Mack wasn’t made of stone, the opposite really. His face could be crazy expressive when he allowed it. But this kind of openness was...new. “A while ago, someone I-- I lost someone,” he admitted, and Joey tried to sit up a bit. It was a bit painful, but this seemed like the kind of conversation he didn’t want to be reclining for. “So when these things happen, sometimes I get a little--” he waved his hand dismissively.
“Oh,” Joey replied, nodding a little. “About everyone?” He tried not to sound as curious as he did. But he was only human. Ish.
Mack looked up, suspicious, before it melted into something more like amusement. Maybe fondness, if you looked really hard.
“Not everyone,” he admitted, a small smile in his voice cutting through the worry.
“Oh,” Joey repeated. “About like, me in particular?”
Mack sighed, shaking his head. “Man,” he muttered, mildly annoyed, before leaning over and cupping Joey’s cheek in his hand. Watching him for any signs of displeasure, which Joey didn’t give because he was surprised but not stupid, Mack leaned in and pressed his lips to his. Joey leaned into it, probably a little too eager, but he didn’t care. God, he had missed this. This kind of connection. Not just physical (though that was a big plus,) but the way they just seemed to fit. Pulling away after a bit, Mack stood up.
“Answer your question?” He asked, and Joey nodded. “I’m going to get Dr. Simmons, let her know you’re awake. Any requests?” Joey shook his head. He was good.