Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mac was sitting inside Jack’s car, watching the agent talk to their contact, just outside the building they needed to get in.

Jack said to leave that to him, that he would talk things out with their man… Mac agreed, despite having some doubts.

He and Jack met up only two months before, after going separate ways once their service in Afghanistan was over. They were surprised about having to work together again after so many years, but also happy to see a familiar face– or so Mac thought.

Mac’s cellphone started ringing, and he checked the screen: it was Thornton. Sighing, he answered, “I thought we had one hour?”

“Just checking on you guys. Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yes, Jack is…” Mac looked at the two still talking outside, “He’s taking care of it.”

“Is he?”

Mac frowned. “Is there a problem…?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure he was following the plan.”

“Why shouldn’t he? We talked about it during the briefing.”

“Yes...” A brief pause, then the Director added, “Keep an eye on him. Let’s not mess this up, ok?”

“Yes ma’am.” The call ended, leaving Mac a bit confused– and slightly annoyed because he knew what the problem was: Jack had been working for the CIA after returning from Afghanistan, and Thornton made it clear that she didn’t trust ex-CIA agents… It wasn’t a job people could just leave behind, as she used to say.

Mac knew she was probably talking from experience, but still…

Jack never mentioned why he left the CIA, and Mac didn’t ask, but it was clear something happened…

The Jack Dalton Mac remembered was a tough guy who wanted things done right and fast, but could also be incredibly selfless… The man he was watching now was cold, quieter, still lethal with a gun, but– distant. As if the people around him were strictly part of the mission.

Mac sighed, wondering if considering Jack a friend was a mistake. At the moment, they were colleagues more than anything…

Looking outside the car, Mac's eyes widened as he saw Jack being punched in the stomach, dropping on one knee while their contact ran inside the building, locking the door behind him.

“Jack!” Mac quickly got out of the car and crossed the road, helping him up.

“I almost got him…” he coughed.

“Yeah, I saw.” Mac sighed, studying the door. “Maybe I can…” he was mostly talking to himself, turning to Jack to take the sunglasses off his face: his hands moved almost on their own, his brain already planning what to do next, so when Jack grabbed his arms and turned him around, pushing him against the wall, all in one, quick motion, his thoughts came to a sudden, confused stop.

“‘The hell are you doing?” Jack asked him, his voice cold, so different from just a moment before.

“That’s my line– what are you doing?!” Mac said, trying to get free without scratching his face against the wall, but, to his surprise, he couldn’t move. Jack was serious.

“You– with your hands on my face. What was that?”

“I just needed your sunglasses.”

“Why?”

“To open that door!” Mac wondered if he crossed a line. He didn’t realize something like that could be a problem… “Jack, we’re gonna lose him!”

A moment later he was free and, turning around, saw Jack taking his sunglasses off and handing them to him.

“You can just ask,” Jack said, a nervous expression on his face.

Mac took them without a word, running to the door.

Maybe those few years apart really changed their friendship… Or maybe there wasn’t a friendship to begin with.

“We’re gonna lose him– Mac, we’re gonna lose him!”

“No, we’re not!” Mac jumped on the other side of the wall and, landing in a garden, saw a door ahead just about to close. He sprinted forward, running as fast as possible, just to slam both hands on the metal as the door shut a second before.

Trying to catch his breath, Mac moved his soaked hair back with a hand: it had been pouring non-stop for hours, and the storm only seemed to get more intense.

Jack arrived from the side entrance, panting and completely soaked as much as he was. “You got him?”

Mac shook his head, hands on his knees while trying to slow down his breathing.

Jack sighed, checking the door, “Can I shoot at it to get it open?”

“It’s at least two layers of steel. A bullet isn’t going to do anything.” Mac straightened his back and looked around. “I don’t think he’s planning on staying in here. There must be another way out…”

“It would be faster to get inside and follow him. This building is huge.” Jack walked past him and kneeled to check a small window on ground level. “Maybe through here?”

Mac lowered next to him, “Maybe…”

“If he stopped here to get help, it'd be nice know,” Jack commented, shaking his head as raindrops were falling from his short hair.

Mac thought for a moment. “We should ask Thornton for a better view. Maybe they can see if he left the building already.” Looking down, he saw Jack’s cellphone halfway hidden in the back pocket of his jeans and moved to grab it: he barely touched it, and a second later he was slammed on the wet grass, rain pouring on his surprised face.

“What are you doing?” Jack angrily asked, grasping Mac’s shirt with one hand, pushing on his chest to keep him down.

“Your phone–” Mac could barely keep his eyes open because of the rain, “I told you, we need to call Thornton!”

Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, “It’s so hard to ask when you need something?!”

“Sorry! Can you give me your phone now?” Mac asked, exasperated.

Jack took another nervous deep breath and let him go, taking his phone and slamming it on Mac’s chest. “You better never go for my gun like that,” he said before standing up.

“That won’t be a problem,” Mac commented, sitting up while the other kept checking the area, “I don’t like guns…”

After a few more months of working together, Mac should have understood that Jack didn’t like people suddenly touching him or taking something from him without asking.

He knew, and tried to keep it in mind, but how could he remember that during a chase? Or while trying to deactivate an explosive?

His mind was completely focused on the task in front of him, and his hands would go for what he needed without thinking– it wasn’t something he ever considered a problem because, most of the time, the reason for it was that he was trying to save or capture someone.

One thing he was sure of, though, was that Jack never considered that a problem either… Or maybe it was because it didn’t happen that often during the military? It wasn’t just the two of them, back then, so maybe that was why it didn't bother Jack that much…?

Still, despite knowing all that, and trying his best not to send Jack into defense mode, Mac couldn't stop repeating the same mistake.

He didn’t want to suddenly go for the pen hanging from Jack’s front pocket, right over his chest, but he needed the spring inside of it, and his brain was already halfway through the process of what he needed to do with it later.

As Jack moved closer and asked him if he needed help, Mac first said no, then glanced at him and saw the pen and his hand went for it– and Jack instantly grabbed his wrist, squeezing tightly. Mac felt it bending a little, but it was only for a second, and his fear of hearing it cracking dissolved as soon as he met Jack’s calm expression.

“Pen?” Jack asked letting him go and handing it over.

Mac nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Asking is never an option with you, isn’t it?” Jack sighed, walking away.

Mac watched him for a while, then took a deep, relieved breath and turned around to focus on the job.

When Mac came back to his senses, he wasn’t surprised to see metal bars around him. Sitting up, he watched the cell he was in, in the middle of the abandoned camp, and then turned around hearing something smash against it.

“Damn it!” Standing on the other side of the locked door, Jack stepped back, massaging his shoulders, and then noticed him waking up. “Hey, you ok?”

“Yeah…” Mac stood up slowly, passing a hand over his head. “What happened?”

“They found you, that’s what happened,” Jack nervously said. “I saw it from the tower and came back as fast as I could but they already left.”

“They probably thought you left too…” Mac said, holding onto the bars and checking the lock.

“Yeah, clearly they have no problem letting people die under the sun, here,” Jack said, gesturing at the human bones lying around inside the cell.

“I think I can–” Mac felt dizzy and Jack promptly moved an arm through the bars to grab his shirt and help him keep his balance.

“You should sit down,” Jack told him, studying him carefully.

“We don’t have time…” Mac said, holding onto the bars until he was able to focus, and Jack slowly let him go. “I can open this. I just need…” He looked around, and then at Jack, raising his hands to take the sunglasses off his face.

“You can open it with those?” Jack asked.

“Yes…” Mac stopped for a second, staring at the sunglasses and then at Jack: he didn’t react this time.

“What?” Jack frowned, worry now more visible on his face as he grabbed his shirt again, “Are you going to faint again? Because I’ll need those glasses to try and get you out. I still haven’t found my gun so that’s not an option.”

“No… No, I’m fine. Thanks.” Mac nodded.

“Don’t scare me like that, then,” Jack scoffed. “You get this door open, I’ll watch your back.” That said, he turned around to keep an eye on the camp.

Mac stared at him, the smallest smile appearing on his lips. He then focused on the lock, taking the sunglasses apart. He saw Jack turning to send a tired look at him. “I’ll fix them, I promise.”

“You better.” Jack sighed and continued keeping guard.