A/N Hey, Mac Fans! Here's the sequel to Past Is Prologue. We are going on a mission to find Mac's dad and bring down the Organization. I'm never afraid of feedback or prompts and I love you all more than words can say. My first novel drops in days so this is my way of letting off steam so I haven't decided if it's going to be more action heavy or more full of whump or a bit of both. Feel free to nudge me. As usual, I am making this up as I go, and as always, I own nothing but my O/Cs and even they have a fair amount of what fits in cannon behind their inception. And now, back to our heroes …
Mac snapped awake in the dark of the car and immediately started to try to rub away the headache that was thudding behind his forehead. He felt rather than saw Jack glance his way and decided to beat him to the conversational punch by asking, "Are we there yet?"
Jack snickered at the youthful sound of Mac's question, although he did so quietly, cognizant of the fact that a Bozer woken in the middle of the night would probably be chattier than he could tolerate. "I wish, bud. But we are about half-way there. We'll be comin' in to El Paso before too much longer. And then we are gettin' a room for the rest of the night and maybe some of tomorrow too. Jessie and the boys ain't goin' anywhere before we meet 'em in New Orleans."
Mac might have argued about taking a break, but he was beat, stressed, and his shoulder was currently a misery. He puffed out a long frustrated breath as he sat up further in his seat and ran his hands through his hair. Then he opened the glove box to fish out the Advil Jack always kept handy. "Getting out of the car sounds like a good plan," he offered, swallowing four pills with a sip from his tepid water bottle.
Jack glanced at him again, and although he was heartened that El Paso was showing up on the signs overhead now, he was more than a little concerned by Mac's posture and how he was stretching his neck and massaging his shoulder. "You okay, bud?" Jack asked, but gently, leaving it up to Mac whether or not he would reply. Mac shrugged, then immediately regretted it. "I'm guessin' that using Medical to bullshit a mission set up is not something you'll be inclined to do for future clandestine ops."
Mac managed a chuckle. "You'd be guessing right. I'm gonna bug Matty about changing the rules for medical staff on teams not being allowed to participate in clearance protocols. That would've made this so much easier. It's stupid to begin with; aren't agents supposed to most trust their team's medical staff? And if that wasn't a rule, Foster wouldn't have been so … so, goddamned thorough this morning." Jack chuckled, but it was tempered by the obvious pain his partner was in. Mac sniffed with irritation. "I feel worse right now than I did right after surgery."
Jack, who thought Foster had kind of a mean streak, did feel the need to keep Mac from being overly judgmental of that department based on a bad relationship with one staff member. "You have kind of a rep down there, Mac. Maybe he was just being careful."
Mac's eyes flashed. "Since when do I ever go into Medical saying I'm hurt and asking for more intervention? He could've just refused to sign off on the release and ordered an MRI or something, but no, that would've been easy. He wasn't being careful, he was being an asshole. Doctors are sadists." Then he thought of Rodgers with the brotherly affection of a trusted teammate even if he was also a doctor (a feeling once exclusively reserved for their buddy Punchy, the only medical type Mac had met since Bozer's mom that he'd ever trusted or liked), wishing he'd been able to see him this morning instead. "Most of them. Steve's okay."
Jack gave him another sideways look. "Yeah, Steve told me you'd probably be pretty miserable this afternoon. He says Foster takes his job a little too seriously. Doesn't seem to understand he's working with professionals. Shit, Steve said even Mel felt a little bad for you and as far as head nurses go, she's exceptionally unsympathetic … and that's saying something."
Mac laughed a little. Joke around the office with the other field agents was Mel was a nurse because she'd been too mean to be a dominatrix. She knew they said it too and she seemed to take it to heart. As a compliment. "Ah, I'm alright. Nothing a couple of drinks … or watching you bust Foster in the face won't fix."
They both cracked up then, pulling up a picture of the past. Both men had their own issues with medical intervention, and neither of them ever talked much about why, but Jack's own slightly less than rational response was almost exclusively about needles (only Mac knew the reason) and once, a couple of years ago, when Foster had been setting Jack's dislocated shoulder, he'd jabbed the man with pain meds without warning and Jack had reflexively loosened his front teeth, not to mention cracked the bridge of his nose. When Jack was injured, Foster always seemed to be elsewhere these days. "Well, he heads for the hills whenever I walk through the door, but I'll see what I can do," Jack continued to chuckle. Then he tapered off. "You're okay though, for real?"
Mac nodded, concealing his sigh of relief as Jack took the next exit. "Yeah, just sore. I still had rehab coming my way even with field clearance."
Jack gave him a knowing smile as he pulled into the motel parking lot. "I'm glad your shoulder isn't too bad, but I kinda meant more generally."
Mac smiled at him as Jack put the car in park and Bozer started to snort himself awake in the backseat. Honesty was the only policy at this point. "Nah, man. I'm leagues away from okay, in the more general sense, but we're getting me closer by the mile."
Jack nodded knowingly, opening his door, determined to shoulder all their bags so Mac wouldn't feel obligated. Mac gave him a grateful smile and Bozer just leaned blearily against the car, still not a hundred percent sure why Mac wanted him along on the mission to find his father and bring him in, but prepared (after a decent non-car related night's sleep) to bring his A-game in make-up and effects when it was needed.
It didn't surprise any of them that they'd been in the room less than an hour when they all fell asleep.