Archive of Our Own

“This ain’t exactly a new concept. I’m just wonderin why they’re doin it now. I don’t even remember bein apart of one.”

“I remember watching something like this just outta basic, but not so— extravagant. I mean I understand why we’re out here, base being too small for everyone and all, but this seems like something that should be done in a more controlled area.”

Jack smiled. “But look at them, like kids in a candy shop. Mac’s got that gleam in his eye.”

Parker snorted. “You know him and Charlie are going to be at each other’s throats the whole time.”

“Yeah, throwin insults and makin each other second guess everythin. Hey, how many guys ya think’ll assume Mac’s a newbie with how young he looks?”

“Hell, is it cheating if I say all of the new guys and half the old ones? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s only here because of connections, what with his baby face and everything.”

Jack had to agree with him. Out of the dozen groups there, Mac still took the cake for looking the youngest.

The whole thing came rather suddenly, not that it really surprised anyone much, seeing as sudden was a thing that happened almost on the daily.

“Okay boys. You haven’t had war games since basic and someone way the fuck up the ladder thinks it’s a good idea to have some fun in the middle of a goddamn war zone. We’ve occupied an abandoned town and set up a course for EODs from across our sector to compete purely for bragging rights on who’s the best. It’s also being used as a learning exercise for brand new EODs who’ve yet to be in the field. Names for participants will be given out tomorrow and you’ll be set to leave two days after that.”

No one was surprised when Mac’s name had been called.

He thought it was a little unfair, that only a select amount of guys would participate, but they couldn’t put off the job for everyone. All in all, there had only been four other names that had been called. It made sense, seeing as it wasn’t just their base that was going to be doing it. If it was going to be the same with every base in their sector, there would be a minimum of two dozen EODs. Someone had asked if the overwatches were to go with them, and it was surprising when it was said they had the option of going or staying. There was no doubt that most, if not all, of the overwatches were definitely going to accompany their techs.

When the day finally rolled around, their group of ten was split into trucks and hauled off towards whatever abandoned town they’d occupied. And despite being told they were supposed to take it moderately seriously, no one really had any gear besides the bare minimum.

“Man I feel naked without my kit.”

“I feel overdressed with my armor.”

“Least we got our guns, case anything happens.”

There had been a full perimeter set up around the town; motion sensors and cameras to monitor if anyone that wasn’t US army had gotten close enough to make trouble, and a roaming patrol that would active the entire time the whole thing was taking place. And if worse came to worst, there were literally heavily trained snipers that could easily keep any trouble at bay until everyone had time to evacuate.

“Okay, outta all the nerds here, who do ya think has the greatest chance of winnin?”

“I feel it would be biased to say Charlie, and I don’t wanna say Hollywood, but I don’t know most of the other guys here too well, so those might be my only options.”

Jack snorted. “I’d say Mac, but given the circumstances, I think he’d have more fun just dismantlin everythin he sets his eyes on, braggin rights be damned. He’d find a weird piece of somethin and spend hours tryin to figure out what it does.”

“I dunno, lotta new weird things for him to poke at.” Parker shrugged. “Might kick him into overdrive and try to look at everything before the day is up; kinda like my sister when we used to go to the zoo before I shipped out. She needed to look at every animal in the whole goddamn place over a five hour period.”

“That does kinda sound like somethin he’d do, I’ll give ya that. Even if he knows what the thing is, he’ll spend a while tryin to figure out why it was used.”

“Alright everyone listen up.” A second lieutenant Jack didn’t recognize called out. Everyone in the surrounding area gathered around him. “This will not be your typical war game. If it took you this long to figure it out, I don’t know how you made it this far in the first place. The so called IEDs all the techs will be handling do in fact have the capability of exploding, but instead of a horrid, blinding pain coursing through your body, you’ll merely be splattered with whatever color paint it’s been put together with. Each IED has been configured by our most senior EODs and instructors. With every one you disable, you’ll be offered a card. Whoever has the most at the end will have earned the bragging rights everyone so desperately wants.

“If an IED is triggered and you die, you may continue to participate if you desire, but your points following will be null and void, or you can choose to be distractions for your fellow techs, attempting to get themselves killed. That being said, you can also choose to do that while you’re still alive.

“I’m going to be honest boys, I don’t know who the fuck thought this up, or who even thought to give it to you of all groups; being out here and dealing with the real shit should be enough and this should’ve been held stateside in training. We put up a perimeter and have sentries posted, so we’ll know if any unfriendlies come waltzing into our neighborhood, but we also got some of the best goddamn snipers there are, so we’ll make sure you’re all safe. We have medics on standby in case of injury, along with a limited amount of food and water.

“With all that being said, your time limit is now until, either all the IEDs are found and dealt with, or an hour until sunset. Whichever comes first. Begin.”

All of the overwatches watched as their techs scrambled to try to find any IED, letting out laughs as the techs called out numbers of how many they’d disarm, or yelling swears at each other.

Jack watched as Mac’s blonde head disappeared in the crowd. He felt wrong in letting him out of his sight, even in a game where nothing bad could actually happen, and while being surrounded by all their own guys. If it was just people from their own base, it wouldn’t have mattered too much, because those were guys Jack knew, guys he’d lived with and formed bonds with. The guys that were there doing the game, Jack didn’t recognize anyone other than Charlie and Parker, and he couldn’t help the want to follow Mac around and make sure nothing would happen.

“They’ll be okay.” Parker said, earning a look from Jack. “You got that worried look. Charlie gets it sometimes when there’s rumors going through the mill about Hollywood. Nothing will happen, and if it does, we got some of the meanest sonsabitches there is.”

Jack huffed. “Just can’t seem to turn off that part of my brain.”

“I getcha. Come on, let’s go see who the guys are betting on. Might as well have a bit of fun while we’re here.”

***

Mac was antsy.

When the whole thing was first announced, he agreed that it was a dumb idea to have games in the middle of a war zone because of the very real threat of anything happening. Most of the guys around him were smiling though, which was fine. If they were going to have fun in the situation, he wasn’t going to stop or deter them.

Then there was the whole of how he was dressed; boots, pants, belt, and ACU undershirt. He was with the others in saying he felt naked and underdressed. No armor, no helmet, no ACU shirt. That was how just about half the other guys were as well, and all the watches were pretty much split with those who brought their body armor and those who didn’t. To say things that that wasn’t exactly needed was a weird concept in a war zone, but they’d been given instructions on what they could bring and wear.

Mac could tell the newer techs from the older from what they brought; most of the newer guys brought everything they would normally bring on an outing, where the others had the bare minimum of what they needed. Mac had sided with the latter on that; he had a smaller kit he put together himself, with about half the supplies that were normally used, his scrambler, and his SAK.

Jack had teased him as he put the kit together. “You even gonna use that thing? Pretty sure it only makes an appearance like— once in a blue moon. Ya think you’ll need it now?”

Jack was in his right to say it with how Mac always defused IEDs with more common items. Given the strange circumstances though, he figured it was smart to have his kit.

“What’d ya say? First to twenty wins?” Charlie smirked at him. “Or do you think I’m lowballing it too much and we should do thirty?”

Mac snorted. “Competition inside of a competition? You looking for super bragging rights?”

“Hell yeah man. I go back to base as the winner and the guy that beat Hollywood? I’ll be riding that high for weeks.”

“There’s a lot of guys that have better stats than me.” A laugh. “I think you should just go for the regular bragging rights.”

“Buddy I don’t think you know your own reputation. It’s not every day someone gets a record of a hundred plus IEDs in one day.” He shrugged. “But if you think you’re gonna be lagging behind, we can have it at ten.”

“We don’t even know how many IEDs are out here.”  Mac rolled his eyes. “Twenty-five seems like a good number.”

Charlie held out his hand. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

They went their separate ways, Mac to the left and Charlie to the right. Mac had half a mind to roll his eyes as he wandered through the town. There were a lot of IEDs sitting in plain sight, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the shear amount that was there was a bit ridiculous. He recognized some guys on them; quick and easy points, most likely hoping to get most of them before having to go looking for hidden ones. Mac honestly didn’t care one way or the other, he was more interested in seeing what the instructors had put together.

The first IED he settled on looked like any other real one he’d dealt with, and it was a bit unnerving not having any of his protective gear, having to remind himself that he’d only be splattered with paint if he failed. He couldn’t wait to see the end factor, though hoped that everyone would be paint free seeing as it meant they would’ve gotten blown up in actuality.

He got to work on it, removed the cover and determined what kind it was. He wondered if the same seniors or instructors would’ve stuck to making the same IEDs, like the cells did. It would make it easy to point them out and disarm a lot in a short amount of time, but that would make it predictable and too easy.

He wished Jack was near him, to jabber in his ear about some story from his ranch. He couldn’t point out when he realized Jack’s constant stream of words helped keep him calm and focused. It hasn’t been like that with his other watches, they’d basically be radio silent, only speaking when there was an enemy or they wanted him to hurry. Until Jack, it was silence every time, which Mac didn’t mind, but now it felt so wrong not to hear a long Texan drawl speak about how a goat drove a tractor.

When he had finished with the IED, thoroughly believing he’d disarmed it, a compartment underneath it popped open, and it housed a business card, blank of everything except for a hand written name. A. Nicholas. The best way to keep track of how many IEDs one person put together. Mac slid the card into his pocket and went on to find another.

It had been a few hours before a horn was blown, calling everyone back to the starting point to have a break. Mac had just finished with another IED before heading there, taking in paint splattered across the ground as he went, trying to keep a straight face as he passed a few guys with their ACUs dyed a few colors.

“What’d I tell ya? Not a spec on him.” Jack said, holding out a water bottle.

“Can’t say the same for you.” Mac raised a brow and gestured. “Did you try your hand at disarming or…?”

“Collateral.” Parker said with a laugh. “We were taking a look around and got too close. Those things have got range though.”

“Probably a shrapnel bomb imitation. Those ones seem to be done by—” He pulled all the cards out of his pocket and shuffled through them. “B. Lopez. I disarmed three of them.”

“Yer keepin track of them?”

“No, that’s just the only one I’ve had multiple of that were all relatively the same. All the others have been different with different people named on them.”

“Half way point.” Charlie said, joining them. “Wanna count them now or wait until it’s over so its more suspenseful?”

“I’m just over twenty-five if that’s what you’re asking. Really impossible to tell who got to it first though. I haven’t really been keeping track, just counted them on the way over.”

“At the end then, see who gets bragging rights on top of bragging rights.”

Jack slung his arm around Mac’s shoulders. “Knowin him, he don’t even want them; just wants to poke around and see what he can find.”

“There shouldn’t even be a competition. Rushing to get things done is how mistakes are made, and mistakes out here could very well mean death.”

“So ya won’t admit to how much fun yer actually havin?”

Mac rolled his eyes.

It was another few minutes until Mac and Charlie headed back into the field, going the same direction that time.

“You think any IEDs in the outskirts are work more?”

“You really want those bragging rights don’t you?”

“It’d be fun to mess with the others, yeah.”

Mac snorted. “I didn’t think they’d be worth more than just one, if that’s how it’s being calculated.”

“Think about it.” Charlie said. “One’s out in the open with nothing but a trigger switch, one point. Mercury switches and timers? Two points, and so on. Taking a look out here, you don’t see any unless you’re honed in.”

“Like that pile of baskets right there?”

“Finding them has to be like a point at least, and disarming them, depending on what kind they are, will add more.”

“You’re saying this like you have insider information about it.”

Charlie laughed. “I’m just saying, it seems like something they’d do to make it a bit more interesting. Having EODs just do their regular job but without the fear of getting blown up? Sounds kinda boring.”

“Okay man, if that’s what you think.” He gestured to the pile of baskets. “You want that one and I’ll get another?”

“Since you offered.”

Charlie went to the pile while Mac continued down the small street. He’d been scanning the area, checking things that looked like they could be housing IEDs, but they’d all been set up as decoys, holding nothing but the remnants of the town. He could hear yelling from the inner most of it, most likely from guys that’d tapped out and were trying to distract their friends. Despite that, it was nearly silent where he was; him and Charlie being the only ones out that far.

Mac walked into the next house. It was odd, but he was genuinely having fun with the whole thing. He didn’t care about winning or bragging rights, he was enjoying the fact he got to get his hands on weird machines that weren’t in any danger of actually exploding. He was just the smallest bit disappointed that he’d been chosen to disarm instead of create, but figured it was for the better because he’d most likely make an IED no one would be able to disarm. Having the instructors and most senior specialists make them was probably best for everyone.

There was another person in the building, hunched over an assumed IED. At least he and Charlie weren’t the only ones to venture out. Since there wasn’t any exact rules on how to win, if he wanted to he could muscle his way in and take over. But the unwritten rule that every EOD abided by, and that was, unless there was extenuating circumstances or some sort of injury, everyone was to finish the IED they started. There was already a risk in doing the job, and trying to pick up where someone else left off just made it that much more difficult.

But that didn’t mean help couldn’t be offered.

“You doing good, man?”

He didn’t reply and Mac didn’t blame him. There were a handful of guys that were taking the whole thing extremely seriously, mainly the newer techs. Which was fine, being in an active war zone and all.

Something about the guy threw Mac off though; first and foremost, he was fully kneeling. It might’ve been from Mac’s own experience, but kneeling to work on an IED, even a fake one, tended to be the most uncomfortable way to work; up at a weird angle and having to bend more than needed. Most guys Mac talked to were always sitting crisscross or laying down all together. Maybe that was just the way the guy was comfortable, so it didn’t set off too much of alarm.

What really did it was the tread on his shoes. Everyone had the same kind, all joking about them being the same size, so Mac knew what boot treads looked like. And whatever boots those were, they weren’t the regulation ones.

In theory, the next course of action was a bad one, but that never stopped Mac from doing it.

“You need any help?” Mac placed his hand on the guy’s shoulder and got an immediate response.

He turned, swung with a knife that managed to catch Mac’s forearm. Mac backed away, fully taking in what was happening in front of him.

That guy wasn’t an EOD tech, and he wasn’t dismantling an IED.

He swung again, standing up while doing so, lunging at Mac with every step.

There went his good mood.

Mac dodged all attempted strikes, and managed to knock the knife out of his hand. He was able to get in a few punches of his own, but the man got a hit on the gash he made, and it sent a spike of pain through his person, momentarily stopping him in his tracks. In a quick moment, his fist went to Mac’s throat. If he had to compare it to something, the pain was as though he’d been stabbed, and the immediate shock was if he was choking.

He stumbled back a few steps in attempt to take a breath, but the man followed closely, and kicked Mac in the chest, causing him to fall through the open door and out into the street. That was good at least, others would be able to see what was happening.

He wanted to shout, to get anyone that was nearby to help him deal with the whole thing, but he couldn’t take a breath. Between the punch and kick, Mac thought himself lucky to even be clearheaded, but it wasn’t enough to put any distance between himself and his attacker, who had straddled his torso and clasped his hands around his neck.

Mac’s hands went to his attacker’s wrists in an attempt to free himself, but it was all for naught. He barely had any breath before he was on the ground, and there was currently someone compressing all the remaining out of his lungs and giving him no way to take in more.

He could hear shouting from a few guys, whether they were about him or not he really couldn’t tell. A dull muffled noise from him clenching his jaw was sounding in his ears and black spots danced in his vision. He could see the irony in the situation; an EOD tech that disarmed a hundred plus IEDs in one day, being taken out by a terrorist that infiltrated their war games, while surrounded by some of the best fighters out there. And not even by an IED or gun.

If he survived, Jack was definitely going to make him start hand-to-hand over from the beginning.

His struggles became weaker as the man pushed his thumbs into Mac’s throat. He tried to buck and kick him off, but he didn’t have the strength. Only when his hands lost their grip on his wrists and slowly fell did the pressure release, but not because he thought Mac was dead.

The sudden lack of pressure anywhere startled him. His eyes opened and his mouth was agape but he still couldn’t draw in a breath. He rolled to his side in an attempt of maybe having a new position would help but it didn’t. Ragged coughing took over any breathing attempt.

He could feel hands on him, pulling him into a sitting position and his back being braced against something. It took a minute for him to realize someone was holding him, even longer for his ears to clear out to hear someone speaking to him.

“…out. Come on, I know you feel it.”

They were telling him to breathe, letting him feel the over exaggerated intake of air from their chest. Mac wanted to follow, wanted to take a breath just like he was being told, but the pain from the kick to his chest and punch to his throat made even the smallest breaths painful. It felt like there was something caught in it, but no matter how much he coughed, it wouldn’t dislodge it.

“I know it hurts. Just keep breathin, even if ya can’t match mine.”

Mac shut his eyes, black spots in the sun making him dizzy. He gritted his teeth in am attempt to take a deeper breath, trying and failing to ignore the pain that had its hold over him.

“That’s it Hoss. Little bit at a time. Take what ya can.”

He could feel Jack’s voice through his back more than actually hear it, despite Mac having his head resting between Jack’s neck and shoulder. It was soothing, a much needed thing to let Mac know he was safe and could do what he needed.

“Try for a big one. In… and out.”

He tried, and based on Jack’s reaction, he did.

“Just like that man, yer doin great. One more time.”

Mac didn’t know how long it went on like that, but when he finally opened his eyes again, the black spots were gone, and he could see a few silhouettes in his peripheral. His coughing tapered off with his attempted breathing, settling into a disconcerting wheezing.

“Doc right here’s just gonna wrap yer arm, okay? You just keep breathin. Yer gonna be fine.”

His eyes lazily went to the side, a medic he didn’t recognize getting what he assumed was sterile wipes and gauze. He’d forgot about the gash on his arm, the pain of it being overshadowed by his lungs doing their damnedest to keep working. He hissed a breath when the wipes barely went over the wound itself.

“It’s okay. I know it stings but it’s okay.”

“Jack.” His voice was horrible, like he’d taken to swallowing rocks and sandpaper. Though still having a voice after that was seen as a plus.

“You just keep quiet. I know it’s not yer strong suit but it’s for yer own good.”

The more he was able to breathe with relative ease, the more came back to him in what had just happened. “Bomb.”

Jack merely shushed him, but could feel his head move, looking back towards the building he had been in. Then there were footsteps, and a moment later, Jack shifted. “Let’s go get you taken care of somewhere proper, huh?”

Mac nodded and tried to push himself up, but Jack held him back, talking to someone off to the side before another set of hands carefully latched onto his good arm and torso, lifting him from Jack’s lap and keeping him steady before Jack was on his side and able to guide him through the town.

He could still hear the commotion of the guys that were still in the inner most of the town, watches cheering on their techs, and techs shouting obscenities at each other. He had been having a good enough time himself; he and Charlie shouting numbers and IED types at each other, but at that moment, he knew he was probably going to be benched for a few days at least.

“Let’s sit down, nice and easy. There ya go.”

The movement from standing to sitting hurt way more than it should have. Mac didn’t think his ribs had been injured too bad, if at all, but maybe walking shifted them somehow. His arm stung and his neck felt like something had been wrapped around it, and he knew his wheezing was more than a call for concern.

“Anyone tell me what happened?” The medic asked to everyone in the vicinity as he shined a penlight in Mac’s eyes. He moved to listen to him breathe with his stethoscope, frowning when he placed it on Mac’s back.

“Straddle and strangle, at the very least.” Mac couldn’t place the voice that was talking.

“Explains why his lungs sound like that, despite the wheezing.” The medic changed position so he was sitting on a stool in front. He tilted Mac’s head up with one hand while the other went to feel around his trachea.

At first touch, Mac’s eyes went wide and nearly fell back off the cot as he tried to retreat. The only reason he didn’t was because Jack had taken that position, and had stopped him before he got there.

“Hey hey. Just the doc needin to make sure there’s no permanent damage.” It took a moment but Mac settled back, the comfort of Jack’s hands on his shoulders doing more than he would admit. “Be a bit gentler doc.”

Mac still flinched as the medic touched his neck, feeling the front and back with slight pressure from his thumbs. “Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken. He speak at all?”

“Voice sounds like he chugged a thing of gravel, told him to stay quiet.”

“Vocal cord and larynx are main causes for concern then. We can get more of a diagnosis at a main base, but yeah, he should refrain from speaking until then. The scratches and bruising I can try to take care of now, though I don’t think it’d be a good idea, given how he just reacted when I tried to examine them. Slight concern for his ribs, but he’s probably bruised if nothing else.”

“Probably best to let him ride out the emotions right now then.” The pressure on Mac’s shoulders were gone, but Jack had take a seat next to him on the cot. “Is it safe for him to drink anythin?”

“It should be fine. Iffy on eating though, until we know what happened. If you can find that out, I’ll give your base a call to give them a head’s up.”

Jack nodded.

Mac could feel the pressure around him change; the guys that had followed him to med dissipated and the medic backed off a bit. Mac didn’t realized how suffocated he felt until only he and Jack were left in the immediate area, but felt breathing coming easier after they all left. There was still the wheezing and cough, but breathing overall had improved just the slightest.

“Doin great Mac. Just in and out.” A hand rested on his back. “Whatcha say we blow this shindig and get somewhere you can get all nice and comfy?”

***

A safe exercise.

Jack was a fool to believe anything in that goddamned desert was safe. He’d gotten too use to it, too accustomed with how day to day life was, so that anything that was indeed a danger to him and those around him, it didn’t register. It had to be something different, something catastrophic to even make him break a sweat.

War games in the middle of a fucking war? That should’ve sent up all the red flags.

Seeing Mac having a good time with all the other nerds of course made Jack happy, especially him being with Charlie since he was apparently the only guy that had nearly the same relationship and respect with Mac from the beginning.

He’d gone with Parker where all the other watches had congregated, all making friendly bets on who would win, how many IEDs the techs would get, who’d unfortunately die due to some stupid mistake. Everyone was having a good time. Most of the few that did unfortunately have an IED go off went around to others, speaking in ghostly tones to try to get their fellow techs to make any sort of mistake.

And it was all in good fun. Everyone had been having a good time.

Jack had headed towards the direction Mac and Charlie had headed, just for his own peace of mind. He had to do a double take when he went past a street, because there was no way he saw Mac on the ground with someone on top of him. And there was no way that they could’ve been an enemy with how secure the training grounds should’ve been.

But in the few seconds it took Jack’s head to catch up with his eyes, he watched as Charlie pulled the guy off Mac, wrestle him to his stomach and pin his arms to his back, and watched how Mac made no attempt to move after the fact.

“I need help over here!” Jack barely remembered calling to some other guys near him before running to assess the situation. He had knelt by Mac, momentarily looking to Charlie.

“I got this sonofabitch.”

Jack always liked Charlie. He was genuinely a good guy, and one of the better EODs there was. It seemed like he was nearly as protective over Mac as Jack was, so it was unsurprising that Jack didn’t even need to ask the question.

The first thing Jack’s eyes went to was the bloody gash on his arm. It didn’t look like it would need stitches but was still bleeding more than it should’ve. The coughing was what made Jack realize the seriousness of the situation.

Mac was in the recovery position.

He couldn’t breathe.

Jack sat next to him, and gathered him up so his back was against his chest. He made sure Mac’s head was resting between his neck and shoulder, and that’s when he saw scarcely bleeding scratches on Mac’s neck amongst how very red it was.

Jack had never been strangled before. Mac just seemed to keep adding new, horrible experiences to his list.

“Feel me breathin hoss.” He didn’t even know if Mac was in his right mind to comprehend what was going on at the moment. “I know ya think ya can’t but ya can. Just need to focus on it. In and out. Come on, I know you feel it.”

It seemed like forever until Mac had taken a proper breath, too long before the tinge from his lips went away. He was aware of a few guys that were around them; a couple helping Charlie with Mac’s attacker, and the others just kind of watching. That wasn’t something they needed to see. It should’ve been a private moment, where Mac didn’t have to keep up the brave face Jack knew he kept, even subconsciously. He should’ve been allowed to break down and freak out, and Jack knew, or assumed at least, that none of the guys there would judge him for whatever he was feeling at the moment.

But he knew Mac better than that.

He let Mac keep up his shield while in the town, while in transport back to base, even when Doc Roe had patiently treated and wrapped his neck, and through the night into the next morning just after everyone had left the bunks. It was when they’d been alone that Jack knew he needed to push the matter and get Mac to break.

“Okay Mac, I know how much ya love keepin to yerself, but Doc said ya should speak a little every day so we can keep track of yer healin.” Jack leaned on the side of their bunk. “Ya wanna tell me what happened?”

“I almost died.” Mac’s voice was so rough, almost like several layers of static piled on to each other. Jack thought it was a miracle Mac could speak full sentences. “Can we leave it at that?”

“‘Fraid not, hoss.”

“You’ve told me you’ve been on death’s doorstep several times before. You know what it’s like.”

“Bein shot at is a hellva lot different than someone tryin to kill ya with their hands, bud. I know what it’s like to be shot, thinkin I’m bout to bleed out, but being up close and personal? That’s on a different level, emotionally and psychologically. I didn’t get any info from anyone, cuz the only people that were there were you and Charlie, and he’s in a whole other outfit that I can’t see on the daily.” He took a breath. “I know ya don’t wanna—”

“No, I don’t.”

“— but besides healin yer throat and neck, ya need to heal yer mind as well. Yer gonna have to debrief and write a report anyways. Might as well talk to someone who actually gives a shit bout what happened.”

“What do you want me to say Jack? That he caught me off guard and easily overpowered me? Or that the first punch to my throat had me wheezing and the kick made me hyperventilate? Or do you want to hear how I couldn’t breathe when he sat on me and got his hands around my neck and that I was sure I was going to die yesterday?”

The last few words sent a spike through Jack’s heart, mainly because Mac’s voice broke off into a sob. Jack hated it, but it was what needed to happen.

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like Mac.”

“You can.” Mac’s voice hitched as he tried to take a breath. “You been closer to death more often than most guys here.”

“Not like that though. Bein shot from across the way, hell, even a few feet, it ain’t the same as someone puttin their hands on you. That’s personal. Someone didn’t put their faith into their weapon, but made themselves the weapon instead. That’s a whole other type of trauma.”

Mac shook his head.

“Hey. Ain’t no one here’s gonna blame ya for anythin yer feelin. You went through an extremely traumatic experience. It’s better if ya talk about it now, rather than store it in that head of yers, and have it explode in a different circumstance.” Jack sat beside him. “You can compartmentalize better than any of the guys here, and I’ve seen guys snap from things that aren’t even comparable. Point bein, yer allowed to feel. Yer allowed to be angry and upset with what happened. Yer allowed to be jumpy round people. Yer allowed to be scared. It’s human nature to have emotions, so ya don’t need to feel ashamed or guilty because of it.”

It didn’t seem right, what Jack was saying.

Mac’s whole life had been composed of people telling him emotions made him weak. When his mom died, his dad always told him he didn’t have time to be sad, that he needed to learn that death was just a thing that happened and there was no undoing it. There was no use in being sad over someone who’d died. His grandfather was more accepting, but made a point of saying things like boys shouldn’t cry.

Joining the army had more or less cemented the idea into his head, because people in the army were tough. People in the army were emotionless, killing machines.

Then Mac met Jack, a man who had years of army experience; a trained Delta sniper and ex CIA agent, and he was one of the most emotionally open guys Mac knew. He never hesitated to show what he was feeling, normally when they were in the safety of the base. The one that seemed to normally be used in the field was concern, and it was solely reserved for Mac.

Mac slumped over, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. He felt like a mess. “I’m tired, Jack.”

A hand rested on his back. “I’d be surprised if ya weren’t. Let’s get ya to bed, huh? I’ll tell everyone to shove off if they come close; ‘specially any CO demandin debrief.”

***

“I’ve been thinking of asking my wife to send me some good luck charms. Like official ones from like Japan or whatever. Hollywood, you get to pick out the first one because, fuck dude, you can’t ever catch a break on anything.”

It had been three days since the initial incident. Mac had been called in to discuss what happened; how he’d come up on the guy offering help before discovering it was an enemy.

“You let him get the upper hand on you when techs are the ones that are more likely to have to engage in close combat.”

“With all due respect sir, we were told the area had been secure hours prior to our arrival. I had no reason to doubt there wouldn’t be any enemy involvement.”

Mac had been told that he’d disrupted the man attempting to, not only set up a live IED, but wire it to any nearby duds so that once they’d been worked with, the live one would detonate. Luckily Mac had gotten there before anything could be connected, and the live hadn’t even been completely set up. He’d also been told someone had taken care of it, and the man had been taken for questioning.

The days after had Mac jumping whenever someone had come up from behind and touched him. Friendly greetings had him turning immediately and ready to fend off an oncoming attack, only for whoever had done it to back off and give an apology, to which Mac offered the same. The only one who had been immune to such a reaction, of course, was Jack, who always announced and over announced his presence in some way before placing a hand on Mac’s shoulder.

“Ah, don’t go there. He’ll go off bout how there’s no such thing as luck and how everything is just some cosmic coincidence.”

“They’re actually called omamori, and they’re more like amulets.” Mac’s voice had still been strained, though talking and eating had become less painful as the days went on.

“Bro how the fuck do you even— you know what? I don’t care. I’m just gonna assume you know everything.”

There’d been an announcement about the winner of the war game the day after Mac had debriefed.

“You still have your cards from the town, son?”

“Uh, yes sir.”

Apparently everyone had been wrong about how the ranking and points system worked. In actuality, Mac had technically won, only because he put a full stop on anyone else trying to win.

“Big game of monopoly; get a full set of each maker and the more sets you have, the higher chance of winning. Macgyver was the only one to have a full set of three, and he had one name of every other maker that participated, making it impossible for anyone else to complete a set.”

It had been funny, and interesting.

“How’s it you’ve been in this squad and ya don’t know this man knows everythin?” Jack’s voice echoed through the tent before a hand landed gently on Mac’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me ya didn’t know he attended full nerd school before coming here. MIT is— what, top five in hardest schools to get into?”

“It’s the third; 5.7% acceptance rate.” Mac said nonchalantly.

“Excuse me a sec I need to go reevaluate my life. I didn’t know Einstein was sitting at our table.”

That got a laugh from everyone.

Jack had motioned for Mac to follow him. With a quick goodbye to the others, both of them left and headed outside.

“Be honest, how’s the arm?”

“Still a little stiff; doesn’t hurt to move it around in full circles anymore, but I keep rolling onto it whenever I’m sleeping and it reminds me that it’s there.”

“How bout the throat?”

“Hurts to swallow solid foods a bit and the coughing isn’t as bad.”

Jack looked at his neck. “Bruisin looks a bit better, and the scratches ain’t too bad. I’d say give it another week and ya should mostly be back to normal.”

“Not like a need to be out of rotation for this. I can still disarm IEDs; my neck was injured, not my hands.”

“Ya know the rules. Until Doc gives ya the okay, yer still on the sidelines, and I agree with him.”

“You agree with everyone that says I need to be benched.”

“When yer healin, yeah, ya do.” Jack snorted. “But, I did go have a visit with the good doctor before I came to find ya and got him to okay ya on a few things.”

Mac raised a brow. “What kind of things?”

“Yer gonna come lead hand-to-hand with me.”

He called it.

Mac couldn’t help but smirk.

“Yeah, okay.”