Chapter Text
Jack had a near perfect record, strictly from his time being a sergeant and not Delta, and everyone knew it. People had called him the perfect overwatch because he got all his EODs home in one piece and relatively unharmed. There were things that couldn’t be avoided sometimes— generalized scrapes and bumps, and overall mentality going down while they were deployed. He likes to think he sent them home in the same condition he was given them.
And then there was Mac.
Mac was a different kind of EOD, a different kind of guy all together. One of the main differences being a good chunk of guys that Jack interacted with most certainly peaked in high school, and Mac looked like he should still be in high school. Looks aside, Mac was smart. That was something Jack would rightly admit. Mac was probably the smartest guy Jack had interacted with, but he didn’t flaunt it. He talked like a scientist and rattled off equations like it was nothing, but Jack knew it was subconscious, and Mac wasn’t outright showing off how better he thought he was. Matter of fact, Mac seemed highly reserved— keeping to himself and not really interacting with anyone unless they started a conversation with him first.
After a handful of times being out together, Jack was more then certain Mac had an actual death wish. Mac wasn’t the first guy that needed substitutions, far from it, but Mac hardly touched the tools in his pack, instead asking for arbitrary things like gum wrappers and batteries. Jack quickly found Mac’s go-to item was a paperclip. That and the fact that he didn’t carry a gun; something about how he didn’t like them and didn’t want to be responsible for taking a life, which at first, Jack thought was ridiculous. The fact he joined the army and refused to have a weapon to defend himself made Jack second guess how smart Mac actually was, but it seemed to grow on him— the innocence Mac still had. Other guys would’ve, and did, call him naïve and said he most likely didn’t pass weapons training, but Jack pointed out he wouldn’t even be there if that was the case.
Mac wasn’t naïve, nor did he have a death wish. His mind was just different from everyone else’s. He just wanted to do good in the world without causing anyone trouble.
Jack’s mother would say that’s a very rare, good, trait in someone; a trait that had been lost over time, and usually appeared in people that were troubled. She never elaborated on what sort of troubles.
Jack wanted to lessen Mac’s troubles, whatever they might’ve been, and when Mac needlessly put himself in danger to save Jack’s life in Kabul, he knew he had to stay to make sure Mac got home safe.
But, again, Mac was different.
They weren’t— friends, not in the traditional sense, more like coworkers who tolerated each other’s existence, plus literally trusted each other with their lives. It was a weird relationship, what with their meeting being less than stellar and literally being in a war zone, they didn’t exactly have time to hang out. They did spend nearly all their free time together, still learning about each other and what limits there were in conversation.
Jack didn’t think he had a limit, not on the things they were talking about. He would prattle on and on about his life on the family ranch, his prime years in school, his favorite this or that— he even talked about things he didn’t fully understand or had never heard of, making up the details as he went.
Mac had a limit. He would talk about school and odd jobs, but he rarely, if ever, actually talked about his family. He told Jack about Bozer, then about The Bozers, and for a moment, Jack thought Mac was a foster kid and had joined the army to get away from them, only to quickly change his tune when he learned that was Mac’s second family, and chose not to pry on why he wouldn’t talk about his first family.
Not all the days were like that; easy conversations and laughing with the other guys. There were some where it was like it was their first meeting all over again, and Jack couldn’t ever figure out why— days when Mac would ignore and avoid him if he could. Those days always threw Jack for a loop, because their relationship was getting better and they were actually starting to act like friends, and then a switch was hit and Mac wanted nothing to do with him. He would tolerate Jack if they had to go out but didn’t make an effort to socialize at all, and it always made Jack think he did or said something wrong, and spent time recounting the previous day and what happened, and he could never figure it out.
Initially he thought Mac was battling with bouts of depression, which wasn’t unlikely. They were in a war zone, and Jack knew from personal experience that seeing what they did could really mess with their head. So he told Mac that if he needed to talk, he was there. But seeing how he interacted with all the other guys, it was clear Mac had a problem with him, and it irked him. The following time Mac was in one of his moods, Jack didn’t say anything; didn’t point it out or offer anything in the way of helping. He just matched Mac’s energy with his own, and that seemed to make the whole thing worse to the point where other guys were chiming in on it.
“The fuck’s gotten into you guys?”
“One sec you’re buddy buddy and the next it’s like you wanna rip out each other’s throats.”
“He was just beginning to get out of his shell. What’d you do to him?”
And the fact that the other guys thought it was Jack’s fault irked him further.
“I ain’t done shit to him! I’ve been tryin to figure out what’s goin on in that fuckin head of his but he just shuts me out. If he wants to be left alone then I’ll leave him alone but ain’t no one’s allowed to give me sass and not expect me to give it back tenfold.”
Things mellowed out after that, and Jack was sure it was due to the guys interfering and probably informing Mac how he felt on the matter. After an awkward apology on Mac’s side, and Jack laughing and saying it was nothing and everyone had times when they weren’t feeling themselves, it all went back to normal, at least whatever was normal for them.
But as time when on, it happened again. Mac just seemed to push Jack away.
That time, Jack didn’t think Mac knew what he was doing. It started with a few off handed, not-exactly-mean comments that were all targeted towards him. When they got reactions from other guys that heard, Mac backtracked and tried to explain what he meant, visibly flustered that the words came out of his mouth. So Jack brushed it off, thinking Mac was just stressed with how much they had going on, and Jack was just an easy target with a sense of humor. Then Mac started avoiding him again, and saying those things behind his back. That was something Jack wouldn’t stand for.
“What the hell is yer problem? If you got somethin you wanna say to me, you say it to my face, not behind my back, or maybe you can’t cuz you don’t want me to be sayin things right back to you when you know you wouldn’t be able to handle them like I could. That what you want? Want me to start spreadin shitty rumors bout you?”
“They’d probably be true.”
It was from that sentence that Jack figured Mac wasn’t actually upset or had a problem with him, but actually had some sort of internal issue he was having trouble dealing with. They’d been partnered long enough for Jack to know Mac didn’t talk about any personal problems he had, so the lashing out was actually him trying to fix whatever was happening.
“Look, I dunno what’s goin on with you. Whatever yer goin through right now ain’t my business, but I’m gonna make it my business if you keep slanderin me. If it’s easier for you to take it out on me, then do it but not behind my back. You know I can take a hit, and I know how hard you can punch. Come on, we’re gonna be partnered together for another ten months before we get to go home. I don’t wanna have to wonder if yer switch is gonna flip and I have to figure out if I actually did somethin. I mean if it’s some sorta mental illness that ya can’t help—”
“It’s not anything like that. I’m just— I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I know it can be… a lot.”
Jack didn’t condone how Mac was handling whatever he was going through, but he didn’t condemn him either. Mac was fighting something internally and wouldn’t accept any help Jack was subtly offering.
As time when on, all the avoidance and talking behind his back stopped, seemingly substituted for running. There were bouts when they had free days that Mac would just run laps around the base, skipping lunch and nearly skipping dinner whenever Jack hadn’t gone to find him, and after four days of nonlinear meals, Jack started running with him. He kept pace, even when Mac started sprinting out of nowhere, and always forced him to stop when it was time for a meal. And when there were days when it seemed all Mac wanted to do was sprint, Jack overtook him nearly every time, which forced him back to a jog, and at some points, stop completely.
That seemed to be the easiest way to help Mac with whatever he was going through, because more often than not, after a small handful of days running together, everything seemed to actually stop. The lines they were traveling on finally seemed to even back out and stayed parallel to each other for the unforeseeable future. They started poking fun at each other again, eating together, overall hanging out again like they had before. There was an occasional day where Mac would go run, but he would ask Jack if he wanted to join, or tell him of what was bugging him and he needed to run to help organize his thoughts.
There was one day that seemed to change everything though, when they were four months out from being able to go home.
It had started off normal enough; waking up at the crack of dawn to get their gear and head out for the day. Nothing about anything seemed off, until they were on their way to the third report of where an IED was supposedly at.
“Do you ever regret signing up for the army?”
Jack glanced at Mac. The question itself was innocent enough; a lot of guys regretted joining up, but the tone in which Mac spoke— the melancholy and guilt that was housed in each word let Jack know it was more than just a simple question.
“Overall, no.” Eyes on the road, glancing anywhere that anyone could pop up as they drove. “There’s been instances where I have— one bad mission too many made me regret the path I chose, or havin to miss family reunions, or births or weddins, but knowin that I’m takin out the bad guys really helps me cope with it. The pay ain’t that bad either; TERA and pension should help decide what I wanna do when I’m outta here.”
A soft hum somehow made it to Jack’s ears. Mac was slightly slumped in his seat, staring out his window.
“Do you regret it? Yer smart as all hell— coulda breezed through college and probably got a job at NASA or somethin.”
“I don’t know.” He huffed, his breath fogging the window for a second. “I didn’t really have any aspirations before joining. Still don’t think I do.”
“Come on now, I’m sure there’s dozens of jobs you could do— goals you could work to. Could probably open up yer own fix-it shop if nothin else.”
“Do you regret coming back?”
Jack didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking. Mac had a tone Jack had seen with other guys before— guys that were going down a dark path.
“Do I regret comin back the first time? Nah. Do I regret comin back this time? Nah. Had perfect reasons each time.”
“What about your family?”
“I miss them, sure, but they understand why I’m doin what I’m doin.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m watchin yer back just like I did the first two months.”
“Why? I haven’t… I’m no one special.”
“I beg to differ. I don’t know anyone else that disarms things like you do. And that’s not a bad thing.” He spared another glance. “I told ya Uncle Sam ain’t ready to give you up yet, and I guess I ain’t either, not until I can understand what goes through that head of yers that makes ya take twice as long to disarm things.”
Jack had hoped to get a reaction like all the other times he poked fun at how much slower Mac worked. He was met with silence though, the only sound filling the air being the dull roar of the engine.
It wasn’t a new thing, but something about that time was different. In most of the conversations they had, Jack could tell where Mac’s mind was, despite whatever the initial tone was. All the other times he could tell something was eating at him, something that Jack could normally handle if Mac would ever accept his help. He couldn’t tell what was going on with Mac in the current setting. There were feelings of guilt, but also acceptance, except not in a good way. It was almost like how Jack felt when he made amends with his father after their big argument, and then when he got to see him before he died.
It was a pained acceptance, like an ugly truth.
And Jack didn’t understand it.
He let the whole thing lie as it was, choosing to maybe venture back to the conversation when they were in the relatively safe quarters of the base. All Mac’s attention needed to be on finding the supposedly three separate IED’s that were reported in the town they were headed to. The only issue Jack had was it was supposed to be a somewhat lively town, and that made the whole thing more tense and difficult, because terrorists had no real disguise, and anyone they passed could turn the situation bad in mere seconds.
But, Jack didn’t have to worry about that. Instead, he had to worry about why the town was empty when they finally arrived.
“Well if this ain’t the least lively town I’ve seen.” He put the Humvee in park and took up post outside as Mac got his stuff ready. “What’d you think— we got bad info or somethin nasty happened?”
Mac slung his pack over his shoulder. “It wouldn’t be the first time we don’t have perfectly updated information on towns we rarely go to.”
“Yeah…”
He didn’t like it. Mac was right in saying they’d received incorrect information before, but that time felt different. The town was supposed to be thriving; a somewhat local stopping ground for anyone in the area— full of shops and people and kids playing in the streets. Everything and everyone was just gone. It wasn’t out of the ordinary that towns would vanish, sometimes happening overnight, but there was always remnants of something; clothes strewn around, carts or wagons left, leftover food storage— that town had nothing.
It looked like it had been abandoned for a very long time. Another team had been there to check something out only a few months ago and reported back that it had been in good condition, and the people there were friendly enough to not immediately run them out, and then, as far as Jack knew, no one else had been out to check.
And if it had been abandoned for so long, it begged the question— who reported there were IEDs there?
“I don’t like it.” Jack tightened his grip on his rifle, head on a swivel, taking in every bit of detail he could. “Whatever happened here ain’t our business. Let’s call it in and get outta here.”
“We can’t leave without checking.” Mac started to walk, head down as he looked at a makeshift map of the area. “Remember last time?”
“Do you remember last time.” Jack got a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “Yeah, there was a bomb, but there were also four hostiles waitin on you to take ya to god knows where and do god knows what. I ain’t keen on havin a recurrence of it.”
“Yeah… but that town was populated. This one is obviously abandoned.”
“And ya said ya won’t go off without me. Doesn’t matter if the town seems abandoned or not. My job to keep you safe and I ain’t bout to break my streak of gettin all my bomb nerds home in one piece.”
A look of recognition passed on Mac’s face, immediately followed by defeat. “We’re going to get in trouble if we just leave without doing anything.”
“Don’t care. Bein in the doghouse for a while is a hellva lot better than bein dead.”
“Can we just— you’ve told me to trust my gut. Can we at least take a quick look around?””
Jack sighed. It wasn’t a good day to take any chances, if only with how Mac was acting and the feeling Jack was getting from him, but Mac looked like a kicked dog, and Jack knew that things would only get worse if he made them leave.
“Fine; quick look up and down each street. I lead, you stay on my six. When I say we’re done, we’re done. No room for arguin. Copy?” Mac merely nodded. “Give me a verbal answer, Mac.”
“Copy.”
“Okay, now you direct me to where these supposed bombs are and we’ll give it a quick look see.”
Jack started walking, deciding that to start at the left most part of town and make their way to the right, and Mac trialed behind him. He wasn’t walking any faster than normal, but instead taking larger steps to get out of there in a more timely manner.
Mac stopped at a few points, saying he needed to check the stack of baskets, or lone box just to make sure, and then pointed out the actual reported placement of the IEDs, and had Jack clear the area of any possible saboteur before checking for any IED. In reality, the whole excursion took less than an hour, but the fact Mac didn’t find anything was both relieving and troubling.
“Alright. That’s that. Ya checked. We’re getting outta here.” Jack nearly expected Mac to ask to go around one more time, but was happy that he nodded and followed as they made their way back to the Humvee.
“Could this place really have changed so much in that amount of time? None of the buildings really even matched the map.”
“Doesn’t happen often but sometimes people do just up and leave in a day. Most likely thing to happen was our guys did the last check whenever and the next day everyone cleared out, and as far as we knew, it was still as they left it.” Not a common occurrence, and Jack didn’t really believe it himself, but it was better than thinking something was going on. “We get back to the ‘vee, call up command and tell them what we found; fifty-fifty we stay out or go back in.”
“I want to go back in.”
The soft, almost whisper in which Mac spoke was surprising. He was always pushing to stay out and get as many IEDs as he could, and then saying he wanted to return to base after not getting even one—
“I’ll get them to have us come back.” Mac was spiraling, and the last thing he needed was to be put in front of an explosive device. “Do you maybe wanna—”
He stopped short, in both speaking and his steps, causing Mac to bump into him. The Humvee was in sight, and Jack didn’t like what he saw. It was sunk; all wheels were flat and the vehicle itself was resting in the rims.
He knew they should’ve just bypassed the entire thing.
“Jack—?”
Jack’s head swiveled. He turned and guided Mac into the nearest building, making him duck down from any windows and stay away from any openings.
“‘Vee’s fucked. Someone’s out there and they don’t want us to leave.” He shut the door and took up a position out the one window that didn’t have any shutters on it, peering at the Humvee through his scope. “Tires are slashed; driver’s door is open. If we’re lucky then they just stole stuff and left the radio in one piece. I knew we shoulda passed this place.”
“Sorry.”
Jack didn’t turn to him, but let out a deep sigh at how guilty that single word was. “It’s not your fault, Mac.”
“I was the one that insisted we take a look, even though you said you had a bad feeling about everything. We could’ve just bypassed this place and said something was off and we needed a recon first. Now we’re without transport and might be without communication. I don’t see how this isn’t my fault.”
“You were doin yer job. Ain’t no fault to give if yer followin orders. Plus you were followin my advise of trustin yer gut. Ain’t nothin wrong in that either. If anythin, it’s command’s fault since they didn’t bother to keep a regular update of this place and just goin off of whoever said somethin might be here and not double checkin.” Jack put his gun down and settled himself out of view of any windows, finally looking at Mac. “Yer good at what you do, and takin blame for other people’s doins is somethin you should try to unlearn.”
Mac gave a hesitant nod without looking at him. “What— what’s it look like out there? You see anything?”
“No, and that’s what’s buggin me. Dozen’s of places for them to hide and no way for us to find them, or know how many are there. More than four is pushin it, even for me, and especially if we don’t know where they’re holdin up— you wouldn’t happen to have the sat phone, would ya?”
“No, it’s under front passenger… I could make a run for it—”
“No way in hell. They could be waitin on the other side of the buildins to take a shot or grab ya first chance they get. Jack looked back to the Humvee. It wasn’t that far. Theoretically, Mac could run to it and get the sat phone, but there were too many walls and corners and blind spots he could be gotten in. So Jack went for the next best option.
He removed his pistol from its holder and held it out to Mac.
He watched as Mac looked between his hand and face. “Jack…”
“This is the only risk I’m willin to take. I’m gonna make a run for the ‘vee and yer gonna stay here, under cover with that piece for self defense.”
“I can’t—”
“I know you have good stats with firearms, Mac, and I think I’ve been more than patient in not forcin ya to actually carry it when we’re out. I respect yer choice in not wantin to kill anyone, but this is where I’m puttin my foot down. This isn’t a time for sarcasm or jokes, or yer personal beliefs. Yer the one that joined the army. I’m gonna be the one that makes sure ya get home. This thing’s yers anyways” He gestured with the pistol. “Take the damn gun, Mac.”
It seemed like forever that Mac just stared at it in Jack’s hand before hesitantly taking it.
“I don’t want to use it.”
“If everythin goes right, ya won’t have to.” Jack looked around the small room. “Over here; gives you the best angle on the door and the window. You remember how that thing works right? Crash course— turn the safety off, cock it, aim and fire. Semi-auto so you only need to cock it one. There’s a round in the chamber already.”
“I know how it works.” His words were near a whisper, and it made Jack feeling like a complete asshole.
“You can hate me all you want when we’re back in the safety of our base. Until then, I need to trust that yer actually goin to use that thing if it comes to it. It should only take two minutes, but so much can happen in that time— and in complete honesty, I dunno what I’d do if somethin happened to ya.”
A small frown appeared on Mac’s face, him choosing to no longer meet Jack’s own eyes. “Let’s just get it over with.”
Jack gave a final look to Mac before sighing internally and making his way to the door. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Just gonna grab the phone and hightail it right back here. I’ll announce myself just so ya know.”
Mac didn’t give any indication of hearing him except for a barely noticeable nod. Jack wanted to say something else, to comfort or scold or something nonsensical, but the quicker he got the sat phone and radioed back that they were stuck, the sooner they’d be back, and he could focus on correcting his— wrongdoing.
He looked out the door, rifle scoped in and scanning the area. He made notes on the spots that could conceal someone, as well as every corner he’d have to pass to get there. Thankfully there were only two buildings at the end that mirrored the others. That would truly be a make or break deal on how easy the venture would be. That would be the easiest place for someone to get him by surprise. He could theoretically take a different path through the town in hopes of throwing off anyone that might be hiding, but he had a feeling it would settle well with Mac. Running straight through would have to be the plan.
“Headin out. Three minutes.”
“You said two.”
Of course Mac would point that out. “Semantics. Be back quick.”
Jack exited the building, rifle held and ready to fire if necessary. It was nerve racking, and very familiar. He remembered missions like that when he was still Delta, mainly search and destroy. That time was almost the same, except the possibility of an enemy actually being there wasn’t a complete certainty. That was something he didn’t tell Mac, because if he thought there was someone who could be considered an innocent, he definitely would t have taken the gun.
Scavengers were nearly everywhere in the desert— they knew the lay of the land and generally were the ones that held a lot of information on the towns. So there was a chance that it was one of them that supplied the information that led them there and it was assumed the army knew the town was abandoned.
There was also a chance of information coming from thieves. They held the same basic principle of scavengers but they valued quality of items and took anything they deemed valuable. They were annoying at best, but we’re still considered innocents since they very rarely ever caused any sort of violence. It wasn’t uncommon— when they did encounter militant members— for them to destroy vehicles. There was always a small chance it would be stripped of any and all important things and the body be left. Even if it was only the body, it would be worth everything to them, and whoever they’d sell it to.
Jack didn’t tell any of that to Mac. It was a bigger percentile of non hostile interaction versus hostile interaction, and Mac wouldn’t have taken the gun. And that wasn’t a chance Jack was willing to take.
The thing he didn’t like about walking through the town was how quiet it was. There was no shutters or curtains that would rattle and flap in the wind. There wasn’t even any wind. The only noise that registered was his own footsteps. Not seeing anyone was also disconcerting. It wasn’t the first time being in an abandoned town, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but Mac was always in his line of sight. So he quickened his pace, checking every corner and wall he passed before getting to the Humvee.
He would put money on thieves.
All their supplies were gone— or really whatever wasn’t physically attached, and the wire for the radio was cut, the speaker missing completely. The containers housing all the components from the IEDs Mac disarmed that day were gone as well. Those in themselves would get their asses reamed, having everything get taken was going to be a nightmare. Jack would argue though, saying their information was faulty and they had to act with caution and be ready to leave in an instant.
Reaching under the passenger seat, he was relieved to feel the sat phone was still there. That was the best news to come out of that situation. Mac could’ve more than likely put together a new speaker with what little they had on their persons, but Jack was more than appreciative to have an easy way out of the whole mess.
It crossed his mind to make the call right there, to say that they were stranded and needed assistance, but that would’ve been too easy for that day. No sooner had he gotten it secured in his vest did he hear a shot, and his heart jumped to his throat.
It was the wrong call. There was a handful of times Jack made the wrong call, and that had just been added to it.
He set on a sprint to get back to the building, hoping, praying that Mac was alright when it hit him— Mac had been in a mood that was different from the others, one that Jack couldn’t pinpoint or really help with.
What if Mac…
It made him sick to even think of the implication. Mac wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do something like that after all they’d been through and survived.
Jack didn’t know what to think. One hand— it was a hostile and Mac easily took care of them. That was the best option in the situation that Jack knew Mac could reason with the best. The other was it was a technical innocent, and that would be a lot more difficult to work through. And those were best case scenarios of Mac being the one to pull the trigger.
As he ran past the last few buildings and more or less slammed into the doorframe of the one Mac occupied, a whirlwind of emotions played out in the span of mere seconds.
There was a body lying on the floor just inside the doorway. Mac was still huddled in the corner where he was told to stay— his arm outstretched with the pistol in his hand.
The left side of Jack’s chest really started to hurt