For Tamuril2, because she challenged me to write a fic where Mac lost his confidence that he was different than Murdoc. Suggested, but not necessary reading is "it's all in my head (but i'm still drowning)," which can be found on my profile.

Canon for everything up to the end of the ep. It diverges after Mac walks out of Murdoc's cell for the last time.

Warnings: angst. the general creepiness that comes with Murdoc

"Jack, arrest me. Please. You have to arrest me."

Jack stared down at the younger man. The blond was standing on his doorstep, eyes glimmering with a panicked light, hair wild, and hands tapping out a panicked tempo on his arms, which were folded tightly against his chest, almost as if he was restraining himself.

Restraining himself from what, Jack wondered. From hurting others?

The traitorous thought crept into his mind, brought to mind by Mac's earlier comment about scaring himself

Jack glanced back into the living room at the clock to make sure he hadn't somehow slept for a full day or something- really, any explanation for this would be welcome.

Nope, it's really three am and my best friend is standing at my front door and telling me to arrest him.

Mac had grown impatient and shoved past Jack and into the house, his rapid- almost panicked- breathing shattering the quiet.

He was going through kitchen drawers, slamming them shut in frustration when he couldn't find what he wanted when Jack caught up with him. The older man statted at him, leaning on the doorway, an eyebrow raised. "Uh, care to clue me in on what's going on?"

Mac shook his head violently, muttering under his breath as another cabinet showed itself to be empty of- well, empty of whatever he was looking for. Jack was becoming concerned.

Another cabinet slammed shut. Scratch that, Jack was well past concerned and pretty far into seriously worried about his friend territory.

Jack strode forward, catching the younger man's hands with his own. "Dude, what's wrong? What are you looking for?"

Mac whirled on him, his gaze frantic. "You need to arrest me, Jack! I know you have handcuffs in here, and if you won't do it then I will, I'll turn myself in-"

Jack cut him off. "What's going on, man? You're not making any sense."

Mac tried to yank his hands away from Jack. "You shouldn't- you shouldn't be near me unarmed, Jack, I could- I could hurt you- You need to do something- I can't- I'm just like him-"

Jack interrupted the younger once again, his heart sinking, as he realized what this might be about. "Who, Mac? You're just like who?"

The younger man stilled, his gaze drifting to the wall just past Jack. He spoke in a dull tone. "Murdoc. I'm just like Murdoc."

Jack released Mac's hands in shock, staring at the kid. Murdoc? Where did he get that idea?

He remembered how Mac had insisted on going back one more time to talk to the man. Jack had protested, had said it was a bad idea, but no one listened.

Jack shook his head, dismissing that thought. This had been coming for a long time. He had been able to tell that the kid was starting to lose his confidence when he had told him that his whistling was unnerving, and then-

"I scared myself."

Mac's words echoed through Jack's head. He had known the kid was glad the mission was over, but this- this was bad. Very, very bad.

Jack looked back up at Mac, frowning as he took in the younger man's appearance. The blond was slumped against the counter, gaze trained on the floor, his chest heaving as he took in quick, shallow breaths and fought to stay calm.

Jack sighed. Gently, he put a hand on Mac's back, ignoring the way the younger man flinched away at first. He guided his friend into the living room, gently pushing him down on one end of the couch. Then he sank down in the chair that was right next to the corner that Mac was currently sitting on.

Jack leaned forward, knocking his knee against Mac's. "Tell me what's going on."

There wasn't an answer. Jack nudged Mac again. "I'm not doing anything until you talk."

Finally, an answer. "I'm like him."

Jack's hand clenched into a fist. He forced it to relax. Getting mad at Murdoc wouldn't help Mac right now. "Like Murdoc?"

Mac nodded. "Yeah."

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. "Wanna tell me why?"

Mac shivered. "I couldn't- I was interrogating Josh, and he thought I was going to kill him, and I threatened his family, and his kid. I made a man think I was going to kill him. I just- I acted just like Murdoc does."

Jack took a deep breath. Ten years ago, he never would've imagined himself having this conversation. Heck, a week ago he wouldn't have imagined himself having this conversation. "Mac, you're not like Murdoc. Not at all."

Mac's head shot up, his gaze meeting Jack's unexpected fury glimmering in striking blue eyes. "You weren't there. You didn't see what happened. You didn't see me. You didn't see what I did."

Jack met Mac's gaze, a sharp determination lacing through his tone and giving it a steel that it rarely held when he talked with his friends. "Yeah, I didn't. You know what I did hear? I heard the terror- yeah, that's right, terror- in your voice when you realized that he really didn't know anything and he thought you were going to kill him. I know you well enough to know that you saw the fear in that guy's eyes, and you can't stop thinking about it.

"You were playing a part. Nothing more. You're not like Murdoc."

Mac shook his head. "You're wrong. I thought- I thought-"

Jack interrupted him, steel still winding through his words. "What, that you were actually going to kill him?"

He waited, watching Mac. When no response came, he said again, "Did you think you were going to kill him, Mac? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, that you thought you were going to kill a man in cold blood?"

There was a beat of silence. Then softly, "No."

Jack nodded, his voice gaining a fierce, protective edge. "That's right. You can't. You're not like him. You would never kill someone in cold blood, or for free, or take pleasure in someone's pain."

Mac looked back up at him. "But-"

The older man shook his head. "No. No buts. You played that part well, I'll give you that, but remember, you couldn't convince someone who knew Murdoc's reputation that you were Murdoc. You convinced a civilian, yeah, but you couldn't convince someone that knew real evil. You know why?

"Because you're not Murdoc, Mac."

Silence settled over the room; Jack watched as the kid's mind whirled. He knew the signs well enough by now to know when the younger man was mulling a problem over. Silence was the best option at this point.

After a moment, Mac said, "You might be right."

Jack nodded decisively. "Of course I'm right. I always am in these types of situations."

Mac grinned. The expression was a bit shaky, but it was a start. Then he looked up at the clock. "Wait, what time is it?"

Jack followed his gaze. "Four am."

Mac flushed, the tips of his ears going strawberry red. "I didn't realize it was so early, or I wouldn't have come over."

Jack shrugged. "It's fine. I don't think you were thinking straight."

Mac nodded, starting to head towards the door. "I'll head out. Sorry-"

Jack cut him off, grabbing his shoulder. "Excuse me? You think I'm letting you drive after that? I don't even want to think about you driving over here."

Mac tried- and failed- to shrug Jack's hand off. "I'll be fine, Jack."

The older man shook his head. "Nope. Nada. Nu-uh. You're staying here tonight. You know where the blankets are. Go to bed."

Mac watched the older man start to head back up the stairs, a smile growing on his face. Mac called out, "Jack?"

The brunet turned. "Yeah?"

The blond shifted a bit on his feet. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Jack listened as the younger man grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the linen closet. A fond grin spread over his face. "Goodnight, Mac," he whispered, knowing the younger man was probably already asleep.

(And if the older man dreamed about confronting Murdoc- and getting in a few good punches- that night, well, who would know?)