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Mac Mcdonald: Sheriff of Paddy's

Summary:

"Gotta keep the bar safe, Charlie.”

“Oh, this again, man?” Dennis groaned. “You’re not the goddamn head of security, Mac! You’re weak as shit! Stop getting in bar fights!”

---

aka. How Mac became head of security

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Mac!” Charlie cried, crouching in front of his friend, who was slumped against the bar counter, bleeding from a cut on his temple.

“Shit shit shit.” Dennis muttered under his breath, hurrying towards them and kneeling by Mac’s other side, shaking his shoulders harshly. “Goddamn it, Mac! What the hell were you thinking, you bitch?”

“Dude, don’t shake him!” Charlie yelled, smacking Dennis’s hands away from him. “He might be, like, concussed.”

“He’s not fucking concussed. Mac, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Mac’s head lolled to the side, pushing Dennis’s hand away from his face weakly.

“‘M fine.” He slurred.

Dennis blinked at him blankly, reaching for his face despite the other man’s protests and attempts to squirm away, trying to get Mac’s unfocused eyes to focus on him by snapping his fingers a couple times.

“...Fuck, Charlie, I think he’s concussed.”

“That’s what I said, man!”

Dennis set Mac’s head back against the counter gently, turning back to Charlie for a heated exchange Mac was too tired to listen in on.

He was struggling to keep his eyes open, woozy from the many beers he’d had already that night, several in just the last hour, and the pounding in his head. He had to stay awake, though, because he was the head of security at Paddy’s and he had to make sure that everything was in order, security-wise.

As head of security his job was pretty badass, he guarded the door, broke up bar fights, that kinda stuff. So when two drunk dudes had started getting rowdy a few minutes ago, Mac had jumped in immediately.

The only problem with that was that one of the dudes was way more bigger than Mac, half a foot taller than him with arms that were probably as thick as Mac’s thighs, which was crazy, probably the guy was on a lot of steroids, he thought. Anyway, he’d totally shoved Mac to the side and caused him to smash his head into the side of one of the barstools.

Everything was kind of a blur after that, Charlie was screaming, practically right in his face, the high-pitched sound feeling like it was piercing right through Mac’s skull. Dennis, presumedly, was dealing with the situation, he’d vaguely registered him yelling at Dee that he’d told her to buy a damn first aid kit months ago, because something like this was bound to happen. He’d also included something about Mac and Charlie being accident-prone idiots, but Mac chose not to recall that part.

“Mac, Mac buddy, stay with us, yeah?” Charlie’s scratchy, panicked voice cut through Mac’s thoughts and he blinked his eyes back open, not having realised he’d let them slip shut. “There you go, dude. Just stay awake until Sweet Dee gets back, okay? She’ll be here in a minute, she’s buying some medical supplies and whatnot, so we can make sure you’re not dying. Then you can sleep.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlie.” Dennis huffed, affronted. “Have a little tact, will you? You’re not dying, Mac, you’re fine.”

“‘M not falling asleep.” Mac grumbled, his response slightly late because he was struggling to get his mouth working. “‘M– gotta keep the bar safe, Charlie.”

“Oh, this again, man?” Dennis groaned. “You’re not the goddamn head of security, Mac! You’re weak as shit! Stop getting in bar fights!”

Dennis exclaimed in frustration when Mac didn’t reply, just leaning heavily against Charlie, who’d wedged himself between Mac and the bar, having pulled the other man practically into his lap by now, running a soothing hand up and down his bicep.

“I am the head of security.” Mac finally responded and Dennis could feel the vein in his forehead starting to bulge.

He managed to swallow down whatever scathing comeback was trying to pass his lips, not without great difficulty. What the hell was he arguing with Mac for, anyway? The guy was an idiot on a good day, and right now even more so since he was practically zonked out.

He focused instead on how, behind Mac, Charlie was starting to look pretty worried, more serious than Dennis had ever seen him as he gently shook Mac’s shoulder when his eyes tried to droop shut again.

“Den, maybe we should take him to a hospital or something.” He murmured, attempting to check for Mac’s pulse by pressing his fingers against the front of his throat.

“Hospital’s expensive as shit, Charlie, he’s gonna be fine. He just hit his head, he needs some bandages and some rest.”

“Dude!” Charlie yelled, ignoring him. “I think that his heart’s not even beating!”

“You’re doing it wrong, idiot!” Dennis snapped, sharply guiding Charlie’s hand to where Mac’s artery actually was located and Charlie’s shoulders quickly slumped with relief.

Mac’s hand snaked up to clumsily cup Charlie’s face.

“I’m okay, Charlie.” He drawled. “I still– c’n still protect you.”

“Goddamnit, Charlie.” Dennis murmured with an eye roll. “Have you been the one feeding his strength delusions? Is that you that was doing that?”

“You don’t get it, Dennis.” Charlie whined, not denying it. “We were all we had when we were kids, and it made him really proud to be able to defend me, and for me it meant that he was the one that got beat up instead of me, so it worked.”

“Jesus Christ. Good to know Mac’s always been dumb as rocks at least.”

“Well, yeah, he didn’t do it because he’s dumb, though. I think it was like ‘cause I didn’t have a dad so Mac kinda stepped into that protective role for me.” Charlie defended.

“Aw, god, Charlie, that’s disgusting, I’ve seen you two kiss.”

“Well, yeah, I mean he’s not my actual dad, Dennis. That wouldn’t even be possible, dude, ‘cause I’m, like, a lot of months older than him, and stuff.”

Dennis pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. When the hell was his stupid sister going to get back with the damn first aid and put him out of his misery?

“It doesn’t make sense anyway, Charlie, because what would Mac get out of playing the role of your dad?”

“Oh, come on, dude, you know he has that thing where he wants to be, like, all strong and tough, so by protecting me he was stronger and tougher. Plus, like, when he did, I would tell him nice things and stuff and compliment him, and that makes him really happy.”

“Jesus, Charlie, that’s pathetic, you guys are both–”

“Charlie.” A strained voice cut Dennis off, and he was mildly irritated as he instantly lost Charlie’s attention, gentle hands resuming their soothing motions against Mac’s upper arms. “Head hurts.” He whined.

“I know, dude, I’m sorry. I can look and see if we have any painkillers in the back. Are you allowed to mix pills with concussions?”

“Don’t go.” Mac pleaded, shaky hands gripping the fabric of Charlie’s worn gray sweater.

“Okay– okay, I’m not going anywhere, man. I can send Dennis if you want?”

Mac just shook his head, turning to hide his face in Charlie’s sweater, sniffling as his shoulders started to shake.

Holy shit, was Mac crying? It had been years since he’d seen Mac cry.

“Oh, woah, Mac. Shit, does it hurt really bad, bro?”

Mac shook his head again, soft hiccups starting to escape his throat as the tears flowed heavier.

“I failed you.” He wailed. “‘M s’posed to protect you, I–”

“Aw, Mac, don’t say that, man. You totally protected me.” Charlie tried to comfort him, hands anxiously squeezing at Mac’s shaking shoulders.

Mac’s responding sob was cut off with a sharp cough and his whole body convulsed in pain, breathing ragged.

“I failed you…” He started repeating, but Charlie shushed him.

“Shit, Mac, try and breathe, okay?”

“Char–” Mac choked on his own tears, chest heaving against Charlie’s and Charlie squeezed him desperately in a hug.

“Shhh, Mac. I’m not upset, you did good, kept me so safe. Dennis, get water.” He demanded in the same soothing tone.

Dennis blinked for a moment, caught off guard by this whole thing.

“Dennis!” Charlie snapped and the other man was quickly stumbling to his feet, tripping over himself to try and find a bottle of water.

They didn’t keep much water in the bar, figuring they were plenty hydrated from all the booze they drank, but Dennis managed to locate a loose bottle under the counter, jammed behind some empty bottles of whiskey and cans of beer.

It was half empty and Dennis wasn’t sure how long it had been there, but he’d seen Mac drink worse, so he grabbed it and hurried back over to the other two.

Mac’s breathing was still a little ragged and uneven, and soft, muffled sobs were still occasionally coming from where his face was buried in Charlie’s chest, but Charlie was always good at calming Mac down when he got really worked up about something, like he was wont to do, and he already seemed to be working his magic.

“Thanks, Den, leave it on the floor.” Charlie said distractedly, not pausing in the gentle way he was rocking himself and Mac back and forth.

Dennis obeyed, setting the water bottle within Charlie’s reach, and hovering hesitantly over their joint huddled form, unsure whether he should stay or if they were doing their own thing now.

It really was odd to watch, Dennis didn’t think he’d ever seen Mac so vulnerable, he’d definitely never seen him cry, he’d only ever seen Mac in the other position, being the one to comfort and take charge. Most of the time his attempts to do so were misguided or unsuccessful, but Charlie was right, Mac revelled in being needed.

Charlie glanced up at Dennis, who was still lingering, making a shooing motion with his hand, and that was all the incentive Dennis needed to get out of there.

It was awkward as shit and way out of his comfort zone anyway, and Charlie clearly wanted to deal with it himself, tending to get a little territorial when Mac was upset, and Dennis wasn’t looking to get bit right now, so he grabbed a beer and slid onto one of the bar stools, facing away from them.

He didn’t want to go too far, in case they needed his help again, or Mac passed out or started coughing up blood or something and they had to go to the hospital, but he kept a safe distance, enough to give them space.

Charlie was still whispering quiet reassurances to Mac, that he was tough and badass, and Dennis resisted rolling his eyes because the guy clearly was in desperate need of it right now. It felt almost uncomfortably intimate, though, as Charlie quietly recounted instances from their childhoods, some Dennis had been there for but a lot he hadn’t.

He did feel a little left out from time to time, Charlie and Mac had years of history before he’d even come into the picture, and they had this weird bond that could only be from leaning on each other and no one else for their entire lives. Dennis supposed he kind of had that with Dee, but Dee was annoying as shit, so it didn’t count, really.

He shook the annoyingly insecure thoughts from his mind. He and Mac and Charlie cooked up schemes and plans that no one else got all the time. He and Mac lived together for god’s sake. They were best friends, the three of them, he didn’t need to be part of their fucked up trauma bond for that. Mac and Charlie were just, well, Mac and Charlie.

Interrupting his musings, Dee finally rushed through the bar doors, her timing terrible as usual, and Dennis quickly shushed her before she could start shrieking.

“What? Dennis, I got the stuff.”

Her brother gestured past the barstools where Mac and Charlie were still curled into a ball together, Charlie still gently rocking them as Mac actually started to calm down.

“Mac and Charlie are doing their gay thing over there, just let them finish.”

“Okay…” Dee murmured, unsure. “Is Mac okay?”

“He’s got, like, a concussion, I think. That’s probably why he’s getting so emotional, but Charlie’s dealing with it.”

“A concussion? Goddamn it, I don’t know if I have the supplies for that.” Dee fretted, rummaging around in the plastic bag she was carrying, sheepishly pulling out a box of bandaids.

Dennis shoved the bandaids back in the bag.

“Dee, you bitch, he doesn’t need those. The supplies for a concussion are just to sleep it off, I’m pretty sure.”

“Hey, Dee, Dennis.” Charlie called from the floor, waving them over, and the twins hurried to their feet.

Mac had stopped crying now, was just weakly slumped in Charlie’s arms.

“Check the back of his head for any blood, or injuries and stuff.” He ordered, and Dee got to work carding through Mac’s hair.

“You should check his eyes, too.” Dennis offered meekly. “If they’re too dilated or his vision is blurry, then he definitely has a concussion.”

Charlie nodded, sitting back a little and allowing Dennis to pry Mac’s eyelids apart gently. Mac winced, and Charlie’s hands reflexively tightened on his upper arms.

“What is it?” Charlie asked, Dennis letting Mac’s eyes fall shut again.

“Too bright, it hurts.” Mac murmured into Charlie’s sweatshirt, and Charlie looked up at Dennis expectantly, as if he knew much more about concussions than the rest of them did, rather than him and Mac just having watched a couple episodes of ER that were on TV a few months ago.

“Uh, yeah, light sensitivity, I think that’s a symptom.” Dennis confirmed with a nod. “Especially since it’s really not bright in here at all.”

Charlie hummed thoughtfully as if Dennis had just imparted some grand wisdom on them that he really had to think about, and Dennis raised an eyebrow.

“Light sensing abilities. That’s cool. So what does that mean, then?” Charlie asked finally.

Sensitivity, Charlie.” Dee corrected and Charlie waved his hand dismissively.

“It means he probably has a concussion.” Dennis interjected with an eye roll. “He should go home and rest.”

Charlie tilted his head to the side questioningly. “But I thought that you weren’t supposed to ever let someone with a head injury fall asleep or they, like, died.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” Dee said slowly.

“Yeah, that’s like a myth, man.” Dennis added.

Charlie shook his head. “No, dude, it’s definitely true because since your head is all banged up, uh, your body doesn’t remember to, like, wake you up from being dead like it usually does.”

“What? Is that what you think sleep is, Charlie?” Dee replied incredulously.

“Just move past it, Dee.” Dennis murmured, turning back to the shorter man. “Mac’s not gonna die, dude, he’s got a super minor head injury, and he needs to sleep it off.”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at him, his arms snaking around Mac’s shoulders protectively like Dennis was trying to take him away, but finally he just shrugged. “Okay, dude, I’ll trust you this time, but if you’re wrong and Mac dies I’m gonna have to kill you too.”

“Great, Charlie, you do that. Now let go, I’m driving Mac home.”

“No. I’ll drive him.” Charlie’s tone was final as he helped Mac to his feet, Mac wincing with every sharp movement, but Dennis protested anyway, stepping in front of Charlie before he could move towards the door.

“With what car?” Dennis shot back. “It’s mine and Mac’s apartment, I’m going there anyway.”

“Then I’m going too!”

“Goddamn it, Charlie, fine. Get in the fucking car.”

Charlie nodded quickly, annoyingly smug look on his stupid face that Dennis wanted to punch right off as he and Mac stumbled clumsily to his car.

“What, Dennis?” Dee cried, hurrying after him. “You’re just going to leave me here to take care of the bar alone?”

“It’s a Tuesday, Sweet Dee, no one’s gonna come in.” Dennis shot back, slamming the door in her face and effectively cutting off any other protests.

He slid into the driver’s seat of his Range Rover, glancing at Mac and Charlie in the rearview mirror. He was pretty sure neither of them were wearing their seatbelts and the last thing either of them needed right now was more brain damage, but he didn’t bother with starting another argument with Charlie about seatbelts, between both of them and Dee he was really reaching his limit on stupidity. They’d be fine for a ten minute drive.

To his dismay, Mac was seemingly starting to become a little more alert in the backseat, still groggy, but as usual his vocal cords seemed to be the first things to start working again, when Dennis would have preferred for them to be the last.

“Where are we going?” Mac grumbled, about eight minutes into the drive, still leaning against Charlie heavily.

“To our apartment.” Dennis replied drily.

“Oh… good, good.”

“You feeling a bit better, bro?” Charlie asked him, and Mac nodded vigorously, before wincing in pain at the motion.

The three of them lapsed back into silence for the rest of the drive, Mac only speaking up again when Dennis was finally backing the car up into a parking spot.

“That was pretty badass how I totally intimidated that guy, huh?”

Dennis rolled his eyes, not bothering to mention that Mac most certainly had not intimidated the guy in the slightest, barely getting an overly confident threat in before the guy had shoved him. At least he was back to his delusional self rather than whoever that sniveling mess back at Paddy’s had been.

“Mac, you lost that fight, buddy. I don’t know why you got involved at all, that guy was huge.” Dennis reminded him gently and Charlie made a small noise of agreement as he helped Mac out of the car.

Mac hummed in disagreement, pulling a face. “Probably he… Well, the guy was on a lot of steroids, I think.” He replied.

Dennis made a face of his own, slamming his car door shut, and wrapping an arm around Mac’s other side to help Charlie get him to the apartment.

“Well… I don’t know about–”

“Yeah, Mac I’m sure he was, dude.” Charlie interrupted, shooting Dennis a look.

“He was, bro, I can tell.”

Dennis sighed quietly. Whatever, if Mac needed to believe all of that, and Charlie wanted to enable him, that was their business.

“Okay, buddy. Let’s get you home.” Dennis murmured, flinging the door to their apartment block open and ushering both men in.

Getting Mac up the stairs was a bit of a struggle, having to stop twice because Mac was getting dizzy and lightheaded again, and by the time they made it to their apartment door the man’s sunny mood had dropped back into something tired and upset.

“You okay, man?” Charlie asked when Mac leaned against the wall instead of following Charlie, who was trying to drag him to the sofa or his bed to finally lie down.

Mac shrugged, looking pale and a little sweaty. Dennis took a cautious step forwards, hoping Mac wasn’t going to burst into tears again.

Mac didn’t, eyes dry but sad as a quiet “Sorry.” passed his lips, the bottom one slightly flushed pink with the way Mac had been worrying it between his teeth.

“It’s okay, Mac.” Dennis replied easily. Whatever it was that was troubling Mac’s mind right now, he was sure it felt heavier to him than it really was.

Mac seemed somewhat placated by this, finally relenting and letting Charlie lead him towards his own bedroom, Dennis close behind.

Dennis’ nose wrinkled, as always, the second he entered Mac’s dingy bedroom. He never would understand why Mac wouldn’t just let him help him make it look less like a shithole. He refused to even let Dennis switch out his crappy mattress for one softer, like Dennis’ own, or at the very least put a bedsheet on it, to that Mac had claimed that bedsheets were a waste of time, but the various questionable stains beginning to collect on his old mattress begged to differ.

And then there was, of course, his walls which were completely bare apart from the several crosses and an unimaginably large poster of the Virgin Mary, which gave Dennis the creeps, but not as much as the framed picture of Luther staring right at him with his crazy eyes from Mac’s bedside table. Also the room smelled like unwashed ass, so there was that, too.

Mac practically collapsed onto his shitty mattress, sinking into it as if it was a luxurious bed at the Ritz, and not something Dennis worried he and Charlie might have found marked Free out by someone’s trash. The exhaustion and pain had left the man drained, and his eyes fluttered shut within seconds.

“Night, bro.” Charlie whispered gently and Mac murmured something somewhat coherent in return, rapidly drifting off.

When Charlie was sure he was asleep, he turned to Dennis, who raised a questioning brow.

“What?”

“Den, I think that probably we should just let him be the head of security because, like, if not he’ll probably kill himself.”

Dennis bit back a groan of annoyance, if only not to wake Mac.

“Goddamn it, fine! He’s the head of security.” Dennis hissed, fuming. “But at least get him to do something useful, too.”

“Like what?”

“He can check ID’s, he can be like a bouncer or whatever.”

“Boom, deal.” Charlie grinned, pumping his fist in victory, and Dennis just shook his head tiredly.

Mac was a goddamn idiot, and not in the slightest bit fit to be any kind of security for the bar, let alone the head of security, but it’s not like anything Dennis could say would stop Mac from doing dumb shit and trying to fight guys twice his size, so he might as well get something out of it, and ensure there were no more underage drinking scandals at the bar.

He watched Charlie crawl into the bed beside Mac, curling into his chest, and even in his sleep Mac’s arms wrapped around him easily.

Goddamn it, Mac was going to let this get to his head so much when he woke up and they dropped the news on him. Goddamn the asshole’s hero complex, goddamn his desperate need for attention all the time.

He settled onto the other side of Mac’s mattress warily. They should’ve all gone to Dennis’ room instead, like they usually did when they shared a bed. Still, he let himself lay on the grimy mattress and curled his arms around Mac’s middle, holding him close, Mac murmuring a small pleased sound in his sleep.

Before Dennis let himself fully sink into the embrace, though, he turned and flipped the photograph of Luther so that it was face-down. There, that was better. He never could sleep properly when he felt the man watching them.

When he curled back into Mac’s side he could’ve sworn his shoulders were a fraction less tense, even though he knew was most likely imagining it. Mac would get mad at him for flipping the picture in the morning, but Dennis knew that they could all rest easier now.

Notes:

i literally have nothing to say about this, it came to me in a vision idk, hit that big red subscribe button for more gang