Author's Note: Set after the flashback events of 3x11 Mac + Fallout + Jack. It's three chapters in total. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy it!
It's an easy rise to wakefulness. For that Jack is grateful. Not jolting awake from gunfire or nightmares. No sense of danger, even as he covertly assesses his surroundings and recognizes the dumpy motel room before his eyes have opened fully.
The room is this side of pitch black, teasing the impending dawn.
He allows himself a leisurely stretch, a few of his joints click more than he'd like to admit. The job isn't easy on the body.
This mission a technical success, they did stop the nukes, but a critical failure, at the expense of two lives. Their first mission with DXS. Jack's first mission after his return to the game. Not a great start out of the gate.
He's had worse missions though. He'll get over it. Learn what you can, and let go of the rest. Dwelling on it will get you killed. Paralyze you in the field and get your team killed.
He'll be fine, integrate the new nightmares into the rotation and move along.
It's Mac he's worried about. First mission as a super spy and half the crew gets killed. That's going to hit him hard. He's going to take it personally. Wrapped up in the idea that there was something he missed. Something he could have done differently. He's got an overworked sense of guilt and fear of failure that Jack could see radiating off of him the first moment they met.
Maybe it was actually the second or third moment they met. He was too busy punching the kid in the face the first moment.
This is just another hit. Another in the long line of people he lost. His mom, his deadbeat daddy, his granddad who raised him because there was no one else. His training officer later that same year.
Too many Army bunkmates to name, and now this.
He saw how Mac watched the Griggs and Hadley partnership. Nine years together. Almost longer than anyone's stuck around with the kid before. He watched their easy friendship, their mutual trust and reliance on each other with a certain wistfulness.
Hadley, sarcastic. Condescending towards Mac's lack of experience and how long Jack's been out of the game. Larger than life, and always has something to say.
Griggs kept his partner in line and didn't let the teasing get too rough. He made an effort to get to know Mac throughout the mission. Talked to him like he remembered being a young agent with no experience. Interested in Mac's thoughts. In an outside perspective that was not yet tainted by so many years in the field. Impressed by his improvising.
Unlikely partners, that complemented each other in an opposites attract working relationship, not unlike his and Mac's. They knew and trusted each other in ways only a long term partnership can. Nine years. A far cry from his and Mac's nine months.
Jack wonders if he and Mac will ever reach that level of implicit trust, and unspoken communication.
He sighs as he watches Mac, perched on a chair, knees pulled up to his chest. He's staring straight ahead out the window. Doesn't even seem to notice that Jack's risen from his bed come up next to him.
He doesn't want to startle the kid.
"See anything interesting there, hoss?" Jack asks. His hand rests on Mac's shoulder. The younger man flinches at the contact but doesn't pull away.
Their relationship is still new, tentative. Yet, somehow stronger than it should be. Jack signed up to go to hell and back, again, with a guy he'd only known two months.
Deserts and wookie life debts.
Galvanized by hardship. Forged in fire.
Actual fire. And firefights and bombs.
Mac shakes his head at Jack's question.
"Did you sleep at all?"
Mac glances up slowly meeting Jack's gaze. "Not much." He answers reluctantly , which Jack takes to mean not at all. See, he's already learning to read Mac's unspoken communication.
"Griggs and Hadley?"
Mac shrugs.
"You want out?"
"No," Mac replies firmly. Quickly.
Jack feels a measure of relief, but presses.
"Maybe this isn't what you thought you were signing up for?" Jack counters, studying Mac's expression.
"I know what I signed up for," Mac says defensively and pauses. "But maybe you don't."
"What are you talking about?"
"I just wonder, maybe if I'd been carrying a gun, you wouldn't have thought you needed to cover me. You could have backed them up. Maybe they'd still be alive."
"Maybe all three of us would be dead," Jack counters. In the gray light of the morning, he sees Mac blanch at that idea. "I'm your partner. Where you go I go." He squeezes the back of Mac's neck. Mac's eyes close, the strain of the last few days lifting off his shoulders at the contact.
Eyes stilled closed Mac asks. "What if I'm not cut out for this? What if I'm not enough?"
It gives Jack pause. It's rare to see Mac verbalize this level of uncertainty. The kid who casually walked into a building with an activated IED under Jack's boot and two minutes on the timer.
There's a certain amount of confidence needed to be EOD, and Mac was, is still, one of the best. Smartest guy Jack's ever met too. Mac's knowledge and skills already make him the most valuable intelligence asset he's ever known.
But it's a similar question he's been asking himself about Mac. Maybe the kid deserved to rest. Deserved a life. Mac talks about using his skills for good. To save the world, but Jack's sure he could do just as much good as a civilian. He could probably save the world from the safety of a lab somewhere. Jack wonders if he should have told DXS and Thornton they could have him but not Mac. Bundled Mac off to safety, security and a normal life.
There was selfishness in Jack's decision. He wasn't always sure he wanted to keep doing the job either. He'd been ready to retire from this life back in August. Go home and let someone else worry about bombs and terrorists. Let someone else worry about saving the world or die trying.
Until he met Mac.
That's what's different this time. Let the world burn, all he needs to do, all he cares about, is saving Mac. Save him from those who would take advantage of his light and his brain. Save him from himself, when he thinks he should be able to save the world singlehandedly , armed with only a paperclip and his knife.
"First of all, no one can do what you do. No one. So you get that idea that out of your head. If you can't do it, it can't be done ."
Mac squares his shoulder at the words.
Watching the words sink in, Jack rubs his forehead. This conversation is the most dangerous field of landmines he's ever crossed. " Just because no one else can do it, doesn't mean you have to."
"Thornton says I owe it to the world to work for DXS."
"Thornton's a legend, but she's got her own agenda that I haven't quite figured out yet," Jack countered. "Lots of ways to save the world, Mac. Go to NASA, back to MIT, go be a middle school science teacher, what was that guy's name, the teacher who helped make you into the egghead you are?"
"Mr. Ericson," Mac replies slowly.
"Yeah, well if you can teach a dumb hick like me the periodic table in the middle of a war zone, imagine what you could do in an actual classroom. Raise up an army of little Mac brains. Maybe literally. Meet a nice girl, settle down, have some blond babies. Nicki, who I was telling you about, is blonde too."
A blush creeps up Mac's neck. "Can I meet her before you start naming our kids?"
Jack smiles, his distraction technique works outside of the desert too. "I'm just saying, lots of ways for you to save the world, Mac. You ain't gonna be wasting your brains if you decide that DXS isn't the right fit for you."
Mac smiles, then his face clouds again. "What about our deal? I can't imagine getting the Army to cut us loose was an easy feat. I still had over a year left-"
Jack waves off the concern. "If you decide this isn't for you, we'll take care of it." He leans forward so he's looking Mac in the eye."If Patty needs a few favors to keep things square, I'll handle it."
If the kid wants out, he'll do whatever he needs to. Thornton knows his past, knows what he's capable of. Even if DXS isn't interested in some of his more particular skill sets, that he's tried very hard to bury in his past, his reputation among the other alphabet agencies precedes him and he knows he'd be worth some valuable favors to Thornton if he was loaned out .
He'd hoped that part of his life was over, but it doesn't really matter, Jack realizes. Because not only is he willing to die for Mac, he's more than willing to kill for him too.
This relationship suddenly became more dangerous.
Cargo planes aren't the worst way to travel.
They're not a favorite, but Jack would take them over some of the more unorthodox vehicles he's traversed the world in.
This one is packed too full though. His knees are practically behind his head. It's going to be a long couple of hours. He's slept in worse positions too though. He could probably sleep most of the flight back. His early morning heart to heart with Mac took its toll. The mission itself not one of the more difficult ones, not till the end. It'll still be the subject of a lot of sleepless nights.
He might have to start drinking coffee again.
He hasn't even adjusted to a sleep schedule outside the Army yet.
Jack always has trouble sleeping the first few weeks after getting home from a tour. This last one was a bad one. He hasn't made it through a night without a scream on his lips. This time around, he doesn't remember most of the dreams when he jerks awake. Vague feelings, impressions. Scorching sun. Cracked lips. Blistering sand. An intense sense of loss.
His shoulders jostle again, not from turbulence.
"Quit squirmin'," Jack grouses, eyes closed, head leaning back against the seat.
The movement beside him instantly stills. Jack cracks an eyelid and gives his partner a quick once over. "You okay, kid?" The kid's been shifting and fidgeting in his seat since take off. More than just the restless energy that usually plagues him. Handing him a paperclip or something to keep his hands busy while his brain chews a problem hasn't been enough this time.
"Sorry," Mac apologizes, curling in like he's trying to take up less room on the seat.
"Height?" Jack guesses.
"Heights don't really bother me if I'm in a plane," Mac shakes his head. "And I'm not afraid of flying, unless you're the one piloting the helicopter."
Jack ignores the dig, but smiles to himself. "You're not usually this antsy. I mean, you're usually like a colt on the first day of spring, but this is fidgety even for you."
Mac smirks at being compared to yet another barnyard animal. "Just can't get comfortable." He shifts in his seat again with a grimace.
"Did you tie your brain up in knots worrying about stuff again?"
Mac smiles sheepishly. " I think you managed to untangle me this morning."
"Getting pretty fluent in Mac-speak," Jack grins.
Mac rolls his eyes to hide the smile creeping across his face.
But Jack's smile fades slowly as he watches Mac run a hand across his belly. Jack rustles through his go bag before holding out a protein bar to his partner, hoping to distract him for a while.
Mac frowns, considering for a moment, before shaking his head. "Not really hungry."
Jack raises an eyebrow, trying to remember their dash to the airfield this morning. "You didn't eat anything before we left."
Mac shrugs.
"You feeling alright?" Jack resists the urge to put his hand on Mac's face like his mother would have done to him if she thought he was feeling poorly. He and Mac might be getting closer all the time, but he thinks the kid might balk at that action.
"Sometimes flying doesn't agree with me."
"You didn't eat any of those worms did ya?" Jack asks. "Montezuma's revenge?"
"We weren't in Mexico."
"Then, whatever they call the equivalent in Jakarta?"
Mac shakes his head. " I think it's just residual stress over the mission. Not sleeping last night didn't help."
"You'd tell me if you thought it was anything I needed to be worried about?"
"Of course," Mac promises.
Jack studies him suspiciously for a moment, as if he doesn't quite believe the promise. He doesn't have a reason not to believe it.
Mac sits ramrod straight in his chair. What's the point of comfortable furniture in the war room if the kid isn't going to relax into it. Sink into the plush leather and just lounge after a rough mission.
You can take the boy out of the army, Jack muses, half surprised that Mac accepted the chair and isn't standing at attention in the middle of the room.
Patty's not even looking at them, staring instead at the after action reports in her hand.
Jack slouches harder, perched on the armrest of Mac's chair and commandeering most of the seatback as well since Mac's not using it. Trying to get Mac to relax by his almost insubordinate posture. It doesn't work though, if anything Mac sits up straighter to make up for Jack.
Maybe it'll keep Patty's attention on him rather than Mac. He's a little flushed. Restless. Squirmed the whole flight home. Even now, he can feels the slight tremor of taunt muscles as Mac tries to refrain from letting his fingers worry the cuffs of his shirt.
Maybe he should call her Patty to her face. Keep her attention firmly on him. She hasn't really specified how she wants to be addressed.
Maybe he should wait until they've at least been with DXS a month. No sense in rocking the boat too early. Keep Patty a little on edge too as they figure out this new working relationship. He's half surprised she recruited him. For better or worse, she's very familiar with his work.
"Your report is very thorough, MacGyver," she says, and she sets the tablet down gently.
"Thank you, ma'am."
Jack quirks an eyebrow and leans forward trying to get a glance of Mac's expression... ma'am? The kid really is a boy scout.
"Dalton, colorful as always."
"Thank you, ma'am," he tries to copy Mac's respectful tone, but it doesn't sound quite genuine.
"That wasn't a compliment."
A surprised snort escapes Mac, and Patty almost smiles.
She turns serious again. "Unfortunately, since this was a joint operation with the CIA, and your first mission with DXS, there are going to be more questions . Especially since you two made it home, unscathed, and two seasoned CIA agents did not."
Mac's breath hitches. His fingers find a loose thread. He's going to worry the button right off. Jack wishes there was a big bowl of paperclips he could shove into Mac's lap.
"It was Waller's op," Jack says, frustration coloring his tone. There's a reason they chose the offer from DXS rather than the CIA. Jack knows only too well that the agency is always looking for a scapegoat for a mission gone bad. And Mac is already feeling guilty. The CIA will be only too willing to pin this on the kid, a brand new agent with an overworked sense of guilt. Mac might just let them. "We were brought in on this late and left in the dark for a lot of it. And his actions during the interrogation of the prisoner were out of line. If the CIA is going to try to pin this on us-"
"I'm just warning you how this is going to go," Thornton interrupts, but Jack doesn't stop long enough to let her finish her explanation.
"You're going to let them come in and walk all over us?" Jack sputters; standing up and starting to pace.
Mac's hands clench tightly in his lap. Jack tries to release the tension in his shoulders. He's stressing out the kid even more.
"In the name of inter-agency cooperation, we will have a joint debrief tomorrow morning."
"Throwing us to the wolves?"
Thornton raises an eyebrow. "The CIA isn't known for playing fair."
Jack growls.
Thornton sits down in the seat across from Mac, crossing one leg over the other, and folding her arms. A small smirk on her face. "But when have you known me to play fair either?"
Mac glances between Thornton and Jack.
Jack stops his pacing, staring at Thornton, trying to read her. Thornton was CIA, and a dozen other black book organizations before taking on the role of director of field operations for DXS. He's heard the rumors.
"This is my agency. You are my agents." Her eyes lock on his.
There's the story, a legend, that a rogue agent tried to assassinate her while she was in her office working on after action reports . She drove a pencil through his eye, killing him, then pulled the pencil out to finish her report. She never even left her chair.
This move by the CIA didn't blindside her. She's been prepared for it all along.
Jack grinds his teeth. "Alright, I trust you, boss lady."
"Go home, get some rest. I'll see you both tomorrow morning." Thornton dismisses them.
Jack slaps Mac on the shoulder and heads for the door.
Mac glances at Thornton again, but she's already engrossed in another mission report on her tablet. Mac follows Jack out of the room, pausing at the door to look back once more, not sure of exactly what he just witnessed.
"Shake a leg, slick," Jack calls from halfway down the hall. Mac hurries after him.
"What was that?" Mac gestures back to the war room.
"That was us getting a better feel for our boss. This DXS thing might work out after all."
"And the joint debrief?"
"CIA getting their panties in a bunch. Patty's got an ace up her sleeve." Jack claps him on the shoulder again. "I don't know about you, partner, but I could use a shower, a nap, and some food. Not in that order, food comes first."
"I think the shower should probably come first," Mac counters, sniffing the collar of his own sweat stiff t-shirt.
"Breakfast's the most important part of the day. Thought someone as smart as you would know that."
"I don't think your definition of breakfast makes it the most important meal."
"What are you talking about? After a mission like this one the only thing that matters is feeling like you're alive. The best breakfast for that is greasy potatoes, eggs, piping hot coffee, sizzling bacon."
"The mission didn't kill you, so your breakfast will?"
A dull thud of pain echoes through his hollow abdomen. He hasn't eaten in the last day. But it's not hunger pains. The idea of putting anything in his stomach, especially the breakfast Jack is describing has that ache increasing and nausea churning.
"I think my priority is going to bed," Mac says hoping he can sleep off whatever bug he picked up. He can't really chalk it up to airsickness anymore. Maybe it's still some nerves and residual anxiety, but he's caved and started calling it a bug, at least to himself.
Jack doesn't hide the disappointed look. It's almost enough to make Mac change his mind, but he knows even the smell of greasy diner food will have him running for the nearest garbage can.
Jack's eyes scan him, trying to determine if Mac is truly just as exhausted as he claims, or if he's running off to get lost in his head.
"You want some company?"
Mac raises a bemused eyebrow. "To go to bed?" He laughs as Jack sputters. "Nah, the mattress for the guest room won't be delivered until Saturday. And I'm not listening to you complain for the next week about how the futon messed up your back."
"Bring it along to the debrief tomorrow. The CIA can use it for their enhanced interrogation tactics."
Worry crosses Mac's face again. Jack mentally kicks himself. The kid was finally relaxing and Jack sent his anxiety into overdrive again reminding him of the impending interrogation.
"It's a formality more than anything," Jack reassures. "They aren't going to break out the drugs or sleep deprivation, or chain us up in a room."
"If I don't get home right now, they won't have to use their own sleep deprivation tactics," Mac says, stifling a yawn.
"You good to drive?"
Mac waves away the concern.
"I'll pick you up, first thing in the morning. We'll get donuts."
Reluctantly , Mac agrees, hoping that he'll feel better in the morning. At least enough to choke down a donut before facing the debrief.