AN: Takes place directly after the events of S2E4... Mac doesn't get off quite as easily as before.

-()-()-()-

Toys

Mac hadn't been aware of how painful it could be to exist.

He'd been in pain before, sure. He'd been beaten, and shot. Electrocuted, stabbed, burned. In his line of work, pain was just another Tuesday. He'd even experienced torture before, at the hands of drug cartels and mafia bosses who always only had two questions: Who Are You and Who Do You Work For?

But this, this was somehow wholly different.

To have been completely at the mercy of a psychopathic killer, a killer that knew him, knew his name, his friends, where he lived… A killer that knew his closest-held secrets, his fears, knew exactly how to twist the knife so that it dug the deepest...

On one level, he knew he was laying on the street, head on the curb, legs splaying dangerously out onto the asphalt. He heard people around him, felt their hands hesitating over his injuries. He knew that if he wanted to avoid an annoying trip to the hospital and let the team know where he was, he needed to have them call Jack… He knew the number, would never forget that number, even when drugged and hazy with pain.

But on another level, he was still in that sewer, still cuffed to that chair, feeling the pinch of the needle and the damp chill of the air. Watching Murdoc, insufferable smirk on his face, stalking down the stairs, black case in hand. Hearing his slippery voice, asking questions, Cassian, Cassian, Where Is My Son, as metal instruments creep closer to his skin, and then touch, and then dig deeper and deeper until pain overwhelms everything else.

Mac forced himself away from the memory, opening his eyes to the bright sunlight, hoping it would jolt him back into reality. The voices around him were echoey, no doubt an effect of the drug and the torture, and the faces danced above him, but he made out the image of a young woman with caramel skin and black hair so much like Riley's, and he decided to trust her.

Fumbling his way back to his limbs and his tongue, he reached out and grabbed her arm. He tried to say Jack's name, but all that came out was a hoarse mumble. The girl leaned closer and he tried again, this time managing to actually get out the word. She found her phone, pressing it into his hand. He saw her mouth moving, but the words were lagging, bouncing around his skull before eventually settling into his brain with meaning.

Can You Call Him?

Mac tried, he really did, but the numbers kept jumping under his fingers, and his fingers were jerking around without his permission, and after a moment Mac realized the only thing he'd done had been hit the 9 key four times. He gave up, closing his eyes in defeat, and he felt the girl take her phone back.

She asked him to tell her the numbers, and he understood after a few seconds, letting out the digits one mumble at a time. The one number he would never forget, because Jack refused to change it, no matter how many phones of his Mac destroyed, just in case Mac ever needed him. He heard the girl talking above him, talking very seriously to the person on the other end, and a wordless longing and swell of emotion washed over Mac.

The phone was pressed to his ear, and he couldn't even express how badly he wanted it to be Jack.

"Mac? Buddy, is that you?"

Mac nearly gasped in the relief that came over him, easing every pain. He couldn't speak for a moment, trying to find words amidst the chaos in his head, and Jack spoke again, sounding more urgent.

"Mac, say something, man. Are you okay?"

"Murdoc," Was all Mac could manage. God, he wanted to see his partner so badly.

"I know, buddy, I came over to your house just after he nabbed you, found a little calling card he left behind. Look, Riley's tracing this call as we speak, okay? So I'm gonna be there real soon, you just hang on."

Mac nodded, even though Jack couldn't see it. "'Kay." His head fell onto his arm, and he just felt exhausted. Nauseas, in pain, the last lingering needles of terror shooting through his veins, and he just wanted it all to be over.

Still, he clung to the thought that Jack would be there soon. The same guy that saved his ass over and over in Afghanistan, who had watched his back ever since they got back. Who questioned every move he made but never lost faith that Mac could get them out of anything. The same guy that Mac depended on to pick him up when he couldn't.

His partner was coming. That was the only thing he thought about.

-()-()-()-

Jack kept the pedal firmly pressed to the floor of the Humvee, zooming around cars, through gaps over the center line, and even bouncing up onto the curb every now and then. Cars honked and jerked away in protest, but Jack didn't actually give a shit. The only thing that mattered was getting to his boy.

Bozer sat in the back, clinging to his seat belt like a life preserver, but holding back any protests. He knew it would be pointless to tell Jack to slow down, and truth be told, Bozer didn't want to slow down. He wanted to get to Mac as much as Jack did.

Cage sat in the passenger seat, holding the handle on the ceiling and staring dead ahead. She hadn't known Mac as long as the others, but there was no denying that there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect him. It was a powerful thing, being a part of this family she had just joined.

Jack spotted Mac as soon as they rounded the corner, laying on the curb in the middle of a crowd of people, looking bewildered as he fended off two paramedics that looked insistent on treating him. Jack slammed on the breaks in the middle of the street, not even turning off the Humvee before throwing the door open and hurrying over to Mac.

"Get back!" He shouted at the crowd of gawkers craning their necks to see what was going on. He shoved past the few idiots that didn't rush out of his way and took his first good look at Mac, and was brought up short, his breath catching in horror.

There wasn't much that could catch an ex-Delta Force operative off guard. Jack had seen people in bad shape. He'd seen informants with missing limbs, eyes, tongues. There was no denying that he could be numb to gory sights. Most things that he saw working with Phoenix were nothing compared to what he had seen before.

But this? Looking at his boy, on the ground, looking dazed and afraid, clearly drugged, bloody and in pain… This was worse than anything he had ever seen before.

Jack was pulled out of his shock when one of the paramedics reached out to try and take Mac's arm, and he lashed out, shoving her away and nearly toppling over himself. Jack shot forward, taking hold of his partner, who was still struggling in confusion. He wrapped his arms around Mac, both to comfort him and stop him from hurting himself.

"Whoa, easy there, big guy," Jack muttered, putting his mouth close to Mac's ear and speaking in a low voice. "Let's just take it down a notch, yeah?"

Mac stopped fighting. "Jack?"

"Yeah, buddy, it's me. I'm here, I got you."

Mac sagged with relief, leaning back against his partner. Jack loosened his grip so that it wasn't so confining, but kept his arms wrapped around Mac, more for himself than anyone else. Now that Mac was still, it was easier to get a look at his individual injuries.

There were cuts all over. One on his cheek, still seeping blood, a few on his arms, more visible under red patches on his shirt. His face was bruised, and he had one arm tucked against his side like he'd been beaten. His shoes and socks were missing, and Jack could see what looked like burns on the tops of his feet. On the hand not hidden against his side, Jack could see two fingernails missing, like they'd been torn clear off.

And there was a bruised and angry looking needle mark in the crook of his elbow. He had been drugged.

The rage that washed over him was palpable, like a monster with a mind of his own. Jack had no doubt that if Murdoc had been there, weapon or no weapon, Jack would have made him taste his own blood. And then he would have killed him.

No one laid a hand on his boy and got away with it.

"How'd…f'nd me?" Mac murmured, clearly still affected by whatever Murdoc had given him.

"Well, we tore your house apart, tracked down the guys that Murdoc hired to nab you, and then Riley traced that phone here. But you did all the heavy lifting, bud." Jack hated to admit it, but if Mac hadn't gotten away himself, it might have been a while before they would have been able to find him. "How'd you get away?"

Mac shifted with his eyes still closed. "...IV pole…concentrated steam…blew out the lock."

Jack chuckled. "Course you did, pal. Chewing gum and paper clips, huh?"

Mac nodded faintly.

Jack looked up at Cage and Bozer, who were looking down at Mac in concern. The paramedics stepped toward Mac, looking like they wanted to interfere, but Bozer intercepted them, speaking quietly and insistently until they reluctantly turned away and went back to their ambulance. Cage kneeled down next to them.

"We should probably get back to Phoenix," She said in a quiet voice. "If Mac got away, Murdoc is probably looking for him, which means we're exposed out here."

"I'll call Matty and Riley," Bozer said. "They're probably antsy for an update."

"Right," Jack agreed, and Bozer turned away, already dialing Matty's number.

Jack focused again on Mac, who seemed to be fading quickly. "Hey, buddy." He jostled Mac, trying to rouse him, and Mac shook his head groggily, clearly fighting exhaustion. "Look, man, I know you're tired, but you gotta try and stay awake for me, y'hear?"

Mac managed a nod, and Jack took a deep breath. "Okay, then. We gotta get you back to HQ, man. Can you walk?"

Another affirmative grunt. "Jus' help me up."

"Sure thing, buddy," Jack shifted so that he had one of Mac's arms over his shoulders. He nodded towards Mac's other side to Cage, and she took her spot next to him. "Okay, on three, yeah?"

Cage and Jack lifted Mac onto his feet. They slowly made their way to the Humvee, with Mac struggling to keep his feet under him. Jack muttered encouragements the whole way. Finally, Cage pulled open the back door and Mac collapsed inside, laying across all the seats in the back.

"There you go, buddy," Jack muttered, carefully tucking Mac's legs inside the vehicle. "Just hang in there."

He called over to Bozer, who finished the call with Matty and hurried to the car. Jack insisted on driving back to Phoenix, glancing back at Mac every few seconds in the rear-view mirror. Bozer sat with Mac in the back, trying to keep him awake until he could be looked over by the doctors, but when they were five minutes out, Mac finally fell asleep. Bozer tried to wake him up, until Jack told him to stop.

"Kid's been through hell," He said, looking at Mac in sympathy. "He just needs a little break."

Mac woke up again when they were pulling up to Phoenix, and he seemed a little bit more with it. Enough to answer questions with more than one syllable and walk with only someone there to steady him. He was also with it enough to feel the cuts and bruises all over his body, and the way he walked, like he was trying to hide how much every step hurt, set Jack's blood on fire all over again.

Riley and Matty were waiting just inside the main doors, and they rushed over as soon as the team came through the door. Riley pulled Mac into a fierce hug, and he held her back tightly, despite how much it clearly hurt him.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Riley whispered, tucking her face against his shoulder, and Mac nodded, closing his eyes and relishing in the relief of being in the arms of one of his closest friends.

"Okay, Blondie, straight up to medical, you hear me?" Matty barked once Riley pulled away. "And I don't want to hear any funny business about you bossing around the doctors, got it? Let them do their jobs. That's an order."

"Don't worry, Matty, I'm gonna go up with him, make sure he behaves," Jack said with a pseudo-serious expression, and Mac cracked a smile.

"You can try," He said to Jack as they slowly started making their way towards the elevator.

"Oh, you wanna bet, tough guy? You try anything stupid and I'll whoop your ass…"

-()-()-()-

Mac fell silent again as they entered the elevator and started to make their way up. One look at him and Jack could tell that his friend was doing that thing where he retreated, went way far away in his mind to think about things, to take them apart and look at all the pieces just like he did with all the weird dohickeys he whipped up.

"Mac, buddy?" Jack nudged Mac, and Mac blinked, looking around the room like he'd just remembered where he was. "You know I don't mind when you go all C3PO on me most of the time, but you can't do that right now. If somethin's goin' on in that big brain of yours, you gotta fill me in."

Mac looked down at the floor. "It's nothing, Jack."

"Sure," Jack agreed easily. "But, if at some point, nothin' becomes somethin', you just remember that ol' Jackie boy can be a pretty decent confidante."

A smile slipped onto Mac's face. "What are you talking about? You can't keep a secret to save your life."

"What are you talking about? I'll have you know that I have plenty of secrets that I have kept tucked nice and close to the vest for people."

"Like what? Name one secret you've kept for more than a month."

Jack opened his mouth, and Mac elaborated. "Unrelated to a cover or a job for the CIA."

"Well, that's just not fair, man! My whole life is jobs like that."

Mac chuckled. "My point exactly."

"Whatever," Jack resigned. He glanced over at Mac, looking skinny and tired and small next to him. "Just remember that you can come to me. With anything, yeah?"

Mac met his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, Jack…I know."

-()-()-()-

Mac endured the poking and prodding. He let the doctors stitch up the deep cuts and gritted his teeth through the antiseptic and bandages. They treated the burns on his feet and wrapped up the fingers without fingernails. He let them press against the ribs that ached so badly until they decided that they were most likely not broken. They drew his blood to test for whatever Murdoc had given him, and then told him to wait in the infirmary, which Mac definitely would not have done had Jack not been there to firmly enforce their orders.

A few minutes after the doctors left, Matty entered the room. Mac's heart dropped at the look on her face.

"Jack, I need a few minutes alone with Mac," She asked.

"But-"

"Non-negotiable, Jack," Matty said, with her famous look of steel. Jack gave in, but looked back at Mac before he left.

"I'm right outside, you hear? Not takin' my eyes off you."

Mac's lips twitched in a smile, and he nodded to Jack as he left. Once the door was closed, and he was left along with Matty, his gaze fell to his hands, where his fingers were playing with the bandages. He needed some paper clips or something.

"Mac?" Matty's voice was stern, but about as gentle as she ever got. He looked over at her, reluctantly, getting the absurd feeling that he was a kid in the principal's office.

"I know you don't want to do this, but we need to. We're trying to figure out where Murdoc held you, and Cage has a few ideas of her own, but that's not what I need from you right now." Matty pursed her lips, looking regretful. "I need to know what Murdoc did to you. What he asked. And what you gave him."

Mac looked away. "Can't this wait?"

"No." Matty sounded apologetic, but Mac could tell she wasn't going to budge. "If there are operatives in danger, or safe houses that have been compromised, then that's something I need to know about now, before-"

"I didn't give him anything," Mac interjected, looking back down at the bandages on his hand. His other hand pulled at the tape, peeling it back and pressing it down. Transferring adhesive to fabric and fabric to adhesive until they would no longer stick together. "He asked about Cassian, but I didn't give him anything."

"Cassian. His son."

"Yes."

"What about Cassian?"

Mac swallowed. "If he was in the country. In witness protection, or a more secure facility. How to reach him. How many agents were on him. If he was close. How to get in contact with his handlers."

All questions surrounding one thing.

Where Is My Son.

"I know this is hard, Mac, but I need you to think. Was there anything, any kind of clue you might have given him that would put Cassian in danger?"

Mac closed his eyes, shaking his head reflexively. He couldn't have. He'd refused to say anything, to confirm or deny anything that Murdoc had thrown at him. He'd kept his silence- at least, he hadn't said any words, once the pain had gotten bad enough that he hadn't been able to stay silent…

Hadn't he?

He thought back, running over his time in the sewer room. Murdoc, asking him the question. A fist to the face when he wouldn't answer. To the gut when he refused again. Murdoc, getting the case. Open case. Scalpel, dancing in front of his eye. Sliced over his cheek. Dug into his arm, his side, his leg.

He'd screamed, for sure, when Murdoc had brought out the blowtorch, pulled off his shoes and folded up his socks, bringing the unbearable heat closer and closer to his feet, burning through flesh, eating up muscle. The smell of cooked flesh and burnt hair.

"Mac?"

He hadn't said anything, had he? Not even when Murdoc got the pliers, started pulling out his fingernails one by one, promising to go to his teeth next, maybe a toenail or two. Laughing as Mac gritted his teeth, trying to keep everything inside.

His hands, on Mac's neck, almost gentle as they wrapped around his windpipe, threatening to squeeze.

"Mac!"

Mac snapped out of it, looking down at Matty, realizing he must have stood up off the exam table, stumbled a few steps away. There was a cold sweat across his skin, and when he looked down, his hands were shaking.

"It's okay," Matty said. "If you say Cassian is safe, I believe you. We can finish this later, okay? Just take a seat."

The door to the hallway opened, and Jack came into the room, rushing past Matty to stand by Mac. Jack put a hand on Mac's shoulder and chest to steady him, ducking his head to look Mac in the eyes.

"Hey, buddy, you good? What's up?"

Mac pushed him away, running a hand over his eyes. "I'm fine, Jack. I just got dizzy for a second, that's all."

"Okay, well, you need to take a seat, there, pal." Jack pointed back at the table, and after a moment of staring his partner down, Mac conceded.

"You done, Matty?" Jack fired at his boss, sounding angrier than he had in a while.

Normally, Matty might have fired back, ordered him to walk it off, maybe even threatened a disciplinary notice, but this was different. This was Mac. She understood how Jack sometimes lost his head when his boy was in trouble. They all did.

"Yes, Jack. I'm done."

From out in the hallway, Bozer and Riley looked in as Matty opened the door to leave. Mac was leaning against the table, hands braced at his sides, and Jack stood right next to him, one hand on his partner's shoulder.

The truth was, neither of them knew the extent of what had happened to Mac. And, considering how viewed them both like younger siblings, he wasn't likely to open up to them soon.

But he had Jack, who they both knew would push if he felt like there was something Mac needed to get off his mind. And he had Matty, to work behind the scenes to get him a little extra time off, or some easy assignments for a while. And he had the two of them, to lighten the mood and distract him from dark memories, or sit and listen as long as he would let them.

He would be okay, because he had his family. And his family would always be there to protect him.

The End.