***Here it is, finally, the sequel to 13, the story also has some ties to Masquerade and Plague. Warnings for violence, description of torture and language. Thanks to everyone who offered ideas somehow all of those put this story together. As always thanks to everyone who keeps reading my stories and especially to those who take the time to comment and support my feeble and bazaar attempts to find the perfect way of whumping our boys! :) Hope you enjoy.*****
The silence in the car was tight with anxiety. Jack looked over at his partner who was almost vibrating with tension. MacGyver's knee bounced, and he wrung his hands after giving up a hand full of paper clips he mangled until they broke into pieces. Mac was also chewing on his lip, and his eyes were in constant movement. Jack frowned. Mac was more nervous and vigilant than when they were on patrol in Afghanistan.
"Hey…" Jack began, Mac jumped as if Jack had screamed in his ears. "Easy kiddo, are you sure you want to do this today?" Mac's Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to make enough spit to swallow. Mac was a shade pale, and Jack could see he was breathing faster and more shallow than normal. He took a deep breath and scratched his head over one of the scars he'd acquired.
"I have to to get back in the field." Mac's voice was higher than his normal deep timber, making him sound younger. Jack sighed and glanced at him dividing his time between the road and Mac.
"It's only been a couple of months Mac. After everything you've been through…" Jack's voice went tight, and for a long moment, he had a difficult time swallowing as he thought about Mac missing for two days, the wounds he returned with, the terror, the bloody feet and then complete catatonia. "...you need to give yourself a break. Anyone would-"
"It's up here on the right." Mac interrupted looking steadily out the window. Jack shook his head and took in a deep breath. The three months had been hell on his partner. Mac was impatient to return to normal, to put everything behind him and deny it had any effect on him. Jack understood, he'd felt that frustration himself many times, but he'd also learned that it wasn't going to happen to the kid's time table. After only being home a month Mac had pushed himself back to work. He assisted the team in 3 missions from Ops. During the missions, Mac was focused and fantastic, the same as always, but after would need days to pull himself together. Jack had driven him every day and when he could see his partner getting overwhelmed he stepped in and dragged Mac home.
The last couple of weeks, Mac was getting worse. He'd stop in mid-conversation and drift away staring into space, only to snap back shaking barely able to speak. The rest of the team had a meeting with Matty and Dr. Mendez, Mac's psychiatrist, and Dr. Mendez suggested a therapist. Jack knew how freaked out Mac would be with the suggestion-he was already frustrated at not being able to take care of the whole world, but to open up to a stranger? Jack grimly smiled. Jack had suggested one he knew well if she couldn't break past the kid's armor no one could. Of course, if she could do it, she'd deserve the psychological equivalent to the Nobel Peace Prize.
Jack pulled into the tiny parking lot. The building was small and looked like a brick bungalow with a business tacked on underneath it. Jack pulled up to the front door that had small green lettering that said, "Winifred J. Owens, LMHC" above phone number and hours. Jack looked down. Mac had grabbed his right forearm tight enough to blanch the skin white. Mac stared at the building his eyes wide, and his breathing stuttered. Jack doubted he was even aware he'd grabbed Jack's arm.
"Mac, are you sure you don't want me to come in?" Mac looked over at him and removed his arm with a look of surprise. Mac took a steadying breath and smiled running his hand through his hair.
"If I can't do this, I can't be in the field again." Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Mac had the door open and slammed shut after him before he could form a word. Jack watched Mac stride into the front door shoulders squared with determination. Jack smiled. It was that stubbornness that got him through the past few months and would get him back to himself, eventually. Jack did not doubt that he just wished the kid wouldn't punish himself when that didn't happen fast enough to quell his frustration. Jack glanced at his watch and sighed wondering what he was going to do for the next hour if Mac lasted that long.
Mac told himself he was being ridiculous. His self replied shut the hell up and run. The door opened into a small entry way whose windows were blocked by curtains. Beyond that was a small, tasteful waiting room. There were a couch and two recliners a circular tan table covered with the usual waiting room magazines. A nest of plants rested on stair-stepping shelves. Mac smirked without humor. They were all cacti and succulents, things that didn't require much sun or maintenance. Mac wondered if that was symbolic somehow. He stepped up to the half counter where a friendly older woman smiled up at him. She had blue eyes that were the color of the deep sea and short white permed hair.
"Can I help you?" Mac opened his mouth only to have his words sucked dry. He lowered his eyes and forcefully cleared his throat. Mac tried again, but still, nothing came out. He looked up at her a panicked look in his eyes. Janet's eyes were soft as if she'd seen this a million times before. She glanced down.
"Are you Angus MacGyver?" She said her voice was soft and had a calming
musical tone that reassured Mac.
"Mac." He managed a small smile. Mac glanced down and saw a gold name tag that said "Janet, RN." "Thank you, Janet...I'm…" Mac's voice evaporated.
"It's fine, Mac. The first visits are always the worst. Don't worry it will get better." Mac nodded looking down puzzled by his sudden feeling of wanting to cry. Mac wanted to turn and run away, but he'd promised Jack he'd make an honest effort. Janet handed him a clip board to fill out. Mac slid onto the couch and bounced a little. The couch was one of the most comfortable he'd ever seen. Did shrinks have an exclusive store they went to for their sofas? Mac shook his head and filled out the info he could. He paused and laughed at the question, "Is this related to an incident at work?". With a sigh, Mac checked yes. He frowned when he came to the page for family history. Mac swallowed and ignored the page standing to return the clip board. Janet smiled.
"Have a seat, Fred will be out in just a few minute." Mac raised an eyebrow.
"Fred?"
"Short for Winifred." Mac coughed feeling as if his entire body was going to vibrate apart.
"Do you have a bathroom?"
"Sure take the hallway behind the plants and go left." Mac nodded and scurried down the short-well lit hall which dead ended at a water fountain. Mac pushed into the men's room and fell in front of the toilet losing the pancakes Jack had insisted he eat. Mac sat on the tiled floor waiting. After a long minute, his stomach seemed to settle a little. Mac stood up on rubbery legs and staggered to the sink. He rinsed out his mouth and splashed water on his face. Mac leaned on the porcelain a long minute taking deep breaths. The only other times he'd been this nervous, ok scared he admitted, was the first time he saw combat and disarmed a live IED. Mac shook his head. How can this be worse than the actual torture? Mac dried his face and went back to the waiting room.
An African-American woman about Jack's age met him with a kind smile. Mac shook her hand. His grip felt wet and limp, hers firm and stable.
"Hello, Mr. MacGyver," The woman's voice had an accent that was a mix of British and African, probably Nigerian but Mac couldn't be sure. She wore a well-tailored burgundy skirt and loose white blouse without sleeves. She reminded Mac of Michelle Obama only somehow softer and calmer.
"Mac," MacGyver said forcing his voice to stay controlled. The woman smiled and waved him to a door to the left of the front desk.
"I'm Fred."
"I bet you got teased a lot as a kid," Mac said babbling with nerves.
"Well it was that or Winnie, and you know how mean kids could get with that?" Mac nodded with a sigh. With a name like Angus, he knew exactly how mean kids could be. Fred's office wasn't at all what Mac expected. There was a small fountain in the corner, African masks and figurines lined most of the walls except one that had a shelf full of tiny action figures. Mac leaned closer seeing little Superman, Batman, and X-men characters. There were dragons, military cars, and Mac laughed, even a Skeletor.
"You collect these?" He asked turning. Fred settled in a soft recliner crossing her legs and resting her left elbow on the arm. Behind her, a small desk sprawled under mountains of papers and folders.
"I use them in therapy sometimes." Mac shook his head with doubt, playing with toys for therapy? Mac turned and sat on a couch exactly like the one in the waiting room. He snorted. "I know, cliche right?" Fred's laugh was a deep, welcoming burst of unrestricted mirth. Mac nodded then let out a breath. His hands fidgeted. He wished he had a paperclip or something to do with his hands. He could feel Fred's deep brown eyes studying him thoroughly. He squirmed on the couch refusing to meet her eyes.
"So what now?"
"Now, we get to know each other a little, see if we're a good fit." Mac nodded.
"You talked to Dr. Mendez?" He asked softly.
"I have all of your records. At least the ones I was cleared to see. Your job requires a lot of secrecy." Mac nodded even though it wasn't a question. "I bet you're very good at it." Mac looked up sending her a sharp glare.
"What do you mean by that?" Mac snapped.
"You seem like a very private person." Fred's tone was even and unruffled. Mac looked over at the wooden carved mask on the wall to his right. It seemed like a scarier version of the theatrical tragedy mask.
"I've been told that." Mac's voice was tight, and he could feel his body tighten with tension. They sat in silence for a long time. Mac had been interrogated enough times to know the technique. Many people feel uncomfortable sitting in silence and often let the information slip to fill the discomfort. Mac found the silence comforting. His knee began to bob, and he pulled at the hem of his T-shirt as he stared down at his sneakers.
"Tell me about yourself." Fred prompted.
"Not much to tell."
"What do you like to do for fun?" Mac looked up at her his mouth quirked into a one-sided smile.
"Fun?" Mac shrugged. "I like to fix things, build stuff."
"What kind of things?"
"All sorts of things." Fred uncrossed her legs and stood up. Mac wasn't prepared for the move and flinched back. Mac cursed his nerves. If Fred noticed, she gave no sign. Fred crossed the desk and emerged holding a desk calculator. She handed it to Mac whose eyes lit up glad to have something to keep him busy.
"I put in new batteries, but I can't get the display to come up." Mac nodded slipping out his swiss army knife having it apart in seconds. "Where did you learn to fix things?" She asked. Mac again shrugged unscrewing wires.
"Here and there."
"It's quite a talent."
"Yeah."
"You like to help people." Mac's gaze snapped up puzzled by this nonsequitur. "Don't you?"
"Yeah."
"I bet you see a problem and focus on it until it's fixed." Mac's eyes burned with suspicion.
"Who've you talked to? Jack called you didn't he?" Mac looked like he was going to throw the calculator across the room. Fred's face grew serious, and she leaned forward.
"No one called me, Mac. I know what I see."
"And what do you see?" Mac asked his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes meeting hers with a defiant challenge. Fred leaned back and cocked her head.
"I see someone in pain desperately trying to escape it." Mac swallowed and dropped his eyes back to the calculator. His heart pounded in his chest. "I also see someone terrified that if they lose control, they will be shattered permanently." Mac threw the calculator down stood up and began to pace back and forth absently.
"This isn't going to work, I...I can't do this. I'm sorry." Mac turned and sped out of the office. He was dimly aware of striding through the waiting room then into the fresh air. Mac couldn't stop. Mac started running full tilt unaware of where he was going. His still healing body screamed at him, his feet throbbing, his chest grinding, but he couldn't stop. Mac wanted to cry. Even as he fled, he knew there wasn't any way to escape what truly terrified him.
Suddenly someone grabbed him. Mac turned swinging and kicking roaring in anger as he fought. He would not be retaken!
"Mac! MAC!" A familiar voice cracked through his blind panic. Mac stopped his chest heaving like an accordion. Jack bent to meet his gaze. "Slow down, breathe...easy, easy…" Mac's eyes burned with tears, and his legs went rubbery. Jack slowed his collapse and helped Mac to the cement sidewalk. Mac closed his eyes his body vibrating with tremors and cold. Mac felt Jack's arms wrap around him and leaned his head against Jack's shoulder feeling protected by his friend's warmth. His breathing slowed, and his body began to relax. Slowly Jack let him go. Mac leaned an elbow on his knee and held his sweaty forehead in his palm.
"I'm sorry, Jack...I tried…" Jack put a hand on Mac's shoulder and ducked trying to meet Mac's eyes.
"I know, brother. I know you did. I'm proud of you." Mac met his gaze with an angry scoff.
"For what? Running away?" Jack grinned.
"No for lasting 20 minutes. Matty and I had a bet going. She said you wouldn't go in; I said you would and would make it 30 minutes." Mac laughed, feeling some of the tension leave. He moved to stand up still feeling jittery. Jack helped him up and steadied him as they walked to the GTO. The car blocked the sidewalk and was still running, the driver's side door hanging open. Mac took in his surroundings and had no idea where they were.
"How…?"
"I was playing Family Ranch on my phone when I saw you run past." Mac sank into the leather chair rubbing his forehead. He felt like an ice pick was digging into his skull. Mac didn't notice Jack clicking on his seatbelt or close the passenger's door. Mac jumped when he heard Jack's voice at his left elbow. Jack noticed but didn't comment.
"What's Family Ranch?" Mac asked leaning his head back exhausted. Jack turned the car around and pulled into traffic.
"It's awesome; I have a ranch with horses and cattle, today I was buying another field and putting up posts to another corral." Mac chuckled and shook his head turning to stare out the window. Jack studied the younger man. Mac was calmer, probably due to exhaustion, and pale. "You threw up didn't you?" Jack's voice was soft. He knew keeping food down was hard for Mac when his anxiety was high. Mac nodded not turning around. "It's ok, bud. Bozer made up some of his soup." Jack watched as Mac's lower lip trembled. Jack turned to the front of the car and didn't give any sign he noticed. Jack wished he could figure out why Mac thought helping him was a burden to those who cared about him. They drove in comfortable silence.
"When's my next appointment?" Mac asked in a soft whisper. Jack smiled proud of Mac. He knew how hard this was for the younger man, but Mac was still going to try.
"In a couple of days, Dr. Mendez said twice a week for awhile." Mac nodded and leaned his head against the window and closing his eyes. Jack gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"It'll get better." He murmured.
"So everyone keeps saying." Jack turned on some soothing music and drove the rest of the way back to Mac's house in quiet companionship. As they pulled in, Mac straightened and sighed. He looked over at Jack and smiled. Jack nodded. Mac was calmer, more like himself.
"Thanks, Jack," Mac said climbing out of the car. Jack grinned as he turned off the car and followed the blonde. "Jack what are you doing? I'm all right." Mac growled. Jack patted Mac on the back as he walked by him into the house.
"I know, I'm hungry, lunch?" Mac shook his head and closed the door as he entered behind his friend. Mac let out a deep breath. Honestly, he was relieved to have his buddy stay. Mac still felt jittery, exposed. Mac threw his keys on the table and plugged his phone in to charge. He rolled his eyes; Jack already had his phone charging
"I think we might have to rethink this open door policy," Mac said as he pulled water out of the fridge and downed half of it. Jack smirked.
"C'mon bud, where else would I go for Bozer's food?" Mac laughed and nodded. He glanced at his watch and looked outside. Jack frowned. "You have somewhere to be?" Mac shook his head, recapped his water and put it back.
"I want to get the lawn done; it's supposed to rain in an hour or so." Jack laughed.
"You just want to play with your new toy." Mac grinned at him but didn't try to deny it. "I'll get lunch ready, be in here in 45." Mac shook his head and waved a hand as he went out to the garage. Jack stepped out on the deck watching as Mac came flying out on a machine Bozer had named the monster. Mac had tried to explain to Jack what he wanted to do, something about using lawn clippings to make fuel. Watching Mac speed across the lawn at an insane speed, Jack could only think of like a jet rocket crossed with a mulcher. Mac expertly cranked the wheel and whipped around the trees. Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his head waiting for the impact. He squinted out as Mac pivoted and zoomed along the long end of the property. Jack's heart hammered. Mac's face was split with a grin as his blond hair flew back in the wind. Jack reached out and jumped when Mac drove at a small shrub.
"Mac, don't-" Mac let out a whoop as his ride jumped into the middle of the bush and annihilated it, Mac swiveled the seat and drove over the shrub until even the chips were chipped. Jack shook his head and went inside closing the door to the deck. His heart really couldn't take any more accidents waiting to happen. Jack chuckled to himself, killing the shrub was probably better therapy for Mac than this morning had been, but he'll have to answer to Bozer. It had been a moving-in gift from Mama Bozer. Mac probably forgot.
Jack pulled out a beer and ducked into the freezer enjoying the coolness. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly unwinding his knots. Jack's brain kept playing the blind panic in Mac's face as he sprinted past Jack trying to escape his demons. Jack shook his head. He knew from personal experience how much things hurt when they get stirred up before healing and despite what Mac claimed, the kid's wounds were still raw and fresh. Jack never told Mac, but Jack had also seen Fred for a while after he left Delta. Jack sighed; hell, he still did when things got overwhelming. Jack pushed the thoughts away and studied the single serving dishes Bozer had premade.
They were color labeled red or blue. Jack grabbed one of each, removed the lid and plopped them in the microwave. Mac didn't know about the tags; he only knew that Bozer made food for him every couple days. With his panic attacks, night terrors, and the increase in generalized anxiety getting Mac to keep his weight up had become a real issue. Bozer and Riley had done extensive research and found hundreds of ways to add nutrition and calories to Mac's dishes. If he'd noticed the change, he gave no indication. Bozer always made up an equal number of regular meals and one of the team made it a point to be home at every meal. If he left to his own devices, the boy would never eat.
The microwave dinged as the lawn monster's motor fell quiet. Jack could hear the rattle of Mac moving it into the garage. He came in red-faced, sweaty and coated with a thick green paste. Jack laughed.
"Feel better?"
"Still have to work on the re-feeder," Mac said unable to stop grinning as he plopped onto a kitchen chair. He yawned.
"Looks like it fed on that bush pretty good." Jack put soup in front of him and sat across from the younger man. Mac tore into the soup with energy, but fatigue caught up with him. He pushed it aside leaving it a little more than half eaten. Jack finished his and set it aside. Mac's eyes looked heavy, and he yawned.
"Why don't you go get cleaned up and rest for awhile?" Mac frowned. Jack could see he wanted to argue but was too tired. "Or you can stay up and help me write reports?" Mac shook his head.
"I'm on vacation, remember?" Mac's voice was bitter. He stood up and paused. "I'm sorry, Jack, it's just-" Mac huffed and shrugged. Jack stood up taking the dishes to the sink.
"It's all good, bud. You do need a shower though." Mac wrinkled his nose as he got wind of his own sweaty body.
"You aren't wrong." He looked like he wanted to say something else.
"It's all good, Mac. You know that." Jack said as he turned to wash the dishes. Mac hesitated then went into the shower. Jack finished cleaning the kitchen and went to get his laptop from the car. He hadn't been kidding about finishing reports; this time of year was recertification for most of Phoenix, and Jack was in charge of the tac teams and their evaluations. Jack paused as his phone blipped. He automatically picked it up and hit read before he realized he'd accidentally grabbed Mac's. He was about to turn it off when a video started playing.
Jack's heart hammered with fury. His body shook with a rage he'd felt only a few times before. He glanced up and was relieved to hear the shower still running. Jack forwarded the video to his phone then deleted it from Mac's. Jack grabbed his phone and crossed out to the deck. Jack's voice was tight and his face stormy as he called Matty.
