I'm not sure where this came from. My friend and I were having a discussion about boxing as a form of exercise, and I was thinking, yeah, my luck I'd end up with a broken nose, and then it sort of snowballed from there. Let me know what you think! The title comes from the Bright Eyes song, and yeah.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.


It started with Sloan who read an article about boxing, and decided that was a great way to get into shape. And moreover, that Mackenzie should also want to take boxing lessons with her. She tries using the upcoming wedding as a reason,

"Don't you want your arms and ass to look magnificent walking down that aisle?" Sloan tried, to which Will responded,

"Her ass and arms are already going to look magnificent walking down the aisle." Mac had beamed at him, and had pushed him up against a wall as soon as they walked into his apartment later, kissing him senseless.

But Sloan was not to be deterred.

"Adriana Lima boxes to stay in shape! If it's good enough for a Victoria Secret model, it's good enough for us," Sloan argued, and she finally wore Mac down enough for her to shout,

"Fine! Fine! I'll go boxing!"

Will was not going to miss out on watching Mac and Sloan box, for God's sake. He had no doubt that Sloan could handle it. He had heard all about her revenge on the asshole who put her pictures online, but he was a little curious about his fiancée's abilities. Mac was tough, but in a different way, she wasn't physically tough. She was physically an English rose, through and through, with her delicate limbs, pale skin, and lilting accent.

But it had been going well. Mac was better than he had given her credit for, and he signed up for his own classes, climbing into the ring a couple of times a week when the girls went, and it was a great stress reliever. Who knew punching someone could be so cathartic?

It wasn't all smooth. Mac had ended up with a black eye a couple of days before from a wayward punch that she hadn't ducked in time, but she claimed it gave her street cred, and he had laughed, placing the lightest of kisses under her eye. That hadn't been enough to stop her from going, she insisted on being back two days later, and he was showered and scrolling through his emails when he heard Sloan's shout and Mac's,

"Shit, ow, ow, ow, ow," and he was on his feet in a second, practically sprinting over to the sound on the other side of the gym. Mac was holding her hand to her nose and there was a lot of blood rushing down her face and a small crowd had gathered around her.

"Mac?" He asks, trying to get closer. She waves a hand and he takes it. "What happened?"

"Sloan broke my nose," Mac's words are muffled, and he looks up at Sloan who is biting her lip and looking incredibly guilty.

"Fuck, Kenz, I'm so sorry," Sloan says, and Mac just shakes her head.

"S'okay," she slurs through the blood and pain.

"We need to get you to an emergency room," Will insists. "Come on, Ali."

"No one ever told me breaking your nose fucking hurts," Mac whines as he helps her towards the door, her words hard to understand through the towel pressed up against her still bleeding nose. Sloan's a step behind them, both of their gym bags slung over her arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she keeps repeating. Lonny's reading a magazine in the front seat of the SUV when they come out, and his eyes widen at the trio stumbling out of the gym.

"What happened?" He asks.

"It's my fault," Sloan pipes up. "I don't know my own strength."

"It was an accident," Will interjects. "But I think her nose is broken." He doesn't like to see Mac hurt, well, ever, and to be honest, the sight of all that blood is sort of freaking him out, and Mac is gripping his hand, and he thinks she might be in more pain that she's letting on, for fear of making Sloan feel even worse than she already does. None of this is doing him any particular good, so he takes a deep breath, presses the lightest of kisses to Mac's temple, and listens to Sloan babbling about how sorry she is.

The ride to the emergency room is pretty quick, and Will helps Mac and into the waiting room. It's surprisingly empty, and Will is still filling out the paperwork when they call Mac back.

"Why don't you go back with her?" Will suggests to Sloan. "I'll be back as soon as I finish filling these out." Sloan nods, and they disappear behind a curtain and Will trudges through the paperwork, remembering all kinds of things he thought he might have forgotten about Mac. He finishes up the questions and leaves it with the nurse and starts to make his way back to Mac's exam room, and then he hears Mac's voice, shrill and firm.

"That's not what happened! I'm telling you that's not what happened!" And he quickens his steps to see what the problem is. When he rounds the corner, he can see Mac's nose is being iced, but she's got a fierce and determined look on her face, with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ms. McHale, we see this all the time," a nurse says gently.

"See what all the time?!" Mac shouts.

"You have a black eye and now a broken nose," the nurse explains.

"Which I've told you how I got," Mac interrupts. "And my friend also told you how I got."

"We hear stories all the time," it's the doctor who speaks this time, and all Will has to do is turn into the room, but he's frozen, listening.

They think he hit her. They think he hurt Mac. Jesus. Jesus.

The idea is so repulsive that Will thinks he might actually be sick.

"I did it! I broke her nose," Sloan's voice explodes. "We were boxing. That's where she got the black eye."

"And if you even think of talking to my fiancé about this, I'll have a lawsuit so fast your head will spin," Mac's voice is low and he doesn't remember ever hearing that tone from her before. Will's not sure what Mac could possibly sue the hospital for, but he also realizes that she's not at her most logical at the moment, her head swimming in pain and disbelief.

He waits another moment before stepping into Mac's eye line and clearing his throat.

"Hey, honey," Mac doesn't move the ice pack from her face, but she lifts her hand in a wave.

"They're almost certain her nose is broken, but they're going to come down and take her to get some x-rays and a CT scan in a few minutes," Sloan explains. Will nods, crossing over and taking Mac's hand.

"They've given me something for the pain," Mac says, her words slightly slurred.

"And I think it's starting to kick in," Will can't stop the grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth. Mac's never been good at taking any sort of drugs, and it's always been pretty damn funny when she's been hopped up on something, whether it be Nyquil to fight a cold or the time she twisted her ankle at the marathon starting line and was given Percocets.

"Ms. McHale, are you ready?" The nurse came in and she shot Will a look that he could tell was sizing him up, trying to decide if she bought Mac's story about the gym and boxing. He also noticed Sloan glaring back at the nurse, and he made a mental note to thank her for it later.

"We'll be right here," he promises Mac and she nods, her head tipped back against the bed and dried blood all over her neck and t-shirt.

"I feel like a total shit," Sloan announces when Mac's been wheeled out and it's just she and Will in the examination room. "I can't believe I broke her nose. I'm such an asshole."

"It was an accident," Will says again, and Sloan nods.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I'm going to feel guilty about it until it heals," Sloan leans back against the wall. "By the way, I know you heard them."

"Heard what?" Will asks, feigning ignorance.

"I saw you in the hallway," Sloan points to where he had thought he was hidden, and gives him a small smile. "She was infuriated at the mere suggestion that you might have hurt her."

"It's good, actually. That they were looking out for her," Will says, but it's a lie and they both know it. "They were just making sure she was okay."

"It's bullshit," Sloan replies bluntly. "Anyone would have to spend less than ten seconds with the two of you to realize how crazy of a suggestion that is. Like you'd ever hurt her. Like you'd ever harm one hair on her head." Will shrugs, because he's not sure what to say.

He wouldn't.

He wouldn't.

He's not his father, and he's spent all of his adult, and most of his young, life trying his hardest to make sure he never turned into his father. He would never lay a hand on Mackenzie. Never, never, never.

Even at his angriest at her, he couldn't even imagine hurting her, physically hurting her.

Will sighs and rubs his forehead.

"Mac didn't see me?" He asks, and Sloan shakes her head.

"No, she didn't. She would have flipped shit if she knew they heard you," Sloan answers.

"Let's not tell her, okay? Just…she has a broken nose, and she's already going to be looped out on pain killers, let's just forget it?" He's aware his voice is pleading, and Sloan looks unconvinced, and before she can answer, the nurses are wheeling Mac back in. He catches Sloan's eye and she finally nods.

"Hey, sweetheart," he breathes out a sigh of relief and moves over to Mac's side. "What's the verdict?"

"Just a broken nose. I don't think we're going to need to do surgery on it," the doctor answers. "But we will have to realign it, and I'm not going to sugarcoat this Ms. McHale, it will hurt. We'll give you something for the pain."

"I love you Kenz, and I'm so, so very sorry for doing this to you, but I can't be here for that," and Sloan gives Mac's hand a squeeze and promises to wait in the waiting room.

It's awful, the sound that Mackenzie makes when the doctor fixes her nose. It's inhuman, and if Will never has to hear that sound again, well, that's fine by him. He can't do anything but squeeze her hand and swear that her boxing days are over.

Sloan keeps her promise, and by the time they release Mackenzie into Will's care, with instructions to keep an eye out for any sort of worsening concussion symptoms, and a whole lot of pain pills, she's still waiting for them out front.

She offers to get soup, or, "whatever the fuck you get for someone with a broken nose," and Mackenzie assures her it's not necessary.

"It's okay, Sloan, really, it was an accident," Mac says for the hundredth time and Sloan finally leaves, only if Will promises to call her periodically to assure her that there wasn't a hidden brain bleed that the doctors missed and Mac was just fine.

"Jesus, that's a thing?" Mac asks incredulously. "A brain bleed?"

"No," Will says firmly, bundling Mac into the back of the SUV and promising to call Sloan later. Mac's out by the time they pull out of the parking lot, the pain killers having kicked in, and he can't quite rouse her when they pull up to the apartment, so he scoops her into his arms, even though he knows he's going to pay for it later, and carries into the apartment and deposits her, swollen face and all, onto their bed.

Once he's sure that she's okay, propped up on some pillows because she can't really breathe out of her nose, he goes straight to the bar and pours himself a stiff drink.

They thought he hurt her. They thought he had done that to her. The thought of it sickened him.

And then he thought about his father and the time that he broke Will's mother's nose. He was a mean drunk and even meaner sober, and she had tried to stand in when he had come for Will and ended up with a broken nose and a black eye.

No one had driven her immediately to the emergency room and sat nervously while they did CT scans to make sure she wasn't more seriously hurt. No one had clutched her hand and smoothed down her hair and pressed kisses to her temple and hairline and worried about her. And Will feels suddenly so damn sorry for his mother that he feels the tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

God, he loves Mackenzie, he does, and he hates to see her in pain. It gutted him to see her like that, and how could his father claim to love his mother and do that to her? It defied logic.

He's not sure how many drinks he's had, he's deep into his brooding, when Mackenzie pads out into the living room.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asks, and her voice sounds clear so he knows her pain pill must have worn off and that she must be in a fuck ton of pain.

"Let me grab one of those pain pills," he says, jumping to his feet and hurrying over to the bag that the doctor had given them when they left the hospital.

"Are you okay?" She asks, her voice concerned as she drops into the chair he had just vacated.

"I should be asking you that," he replies handing her a pill and a glass of water.

"I've been better," she admits. "But you still didn't answer my question."

"I'm fine."

"Liar," she calls him out. "Want to talk about it?"

"You should go sleep."

"That pill's going to kick in and I'm going to do nothing but sleep, but until then I'd like to hear what's bothering you. I'm okay, Will. It's just a broken nose. It'll heal and I'll be fine," she insists and he sits on the ottoman in front of her and she takes his hand and gives it a squeeze.

"I just…" he sighs and drops his head to rest on their tangled hands for a moment before sitting up and meeting Mac's eyes. "My mother broke her nose. Or I should say my father broke my mother's nose. I don't remember the particulars, I was young. Eight maybe?"

"Oh, Billy," Mac's voice was soft.

"I just remember there was a lot of blood, and she pressed a towel up to it standing over the sink because it wouldn't stop bleeding and she didn't want to get blood on anything else. God forbid. And she was crying. She cried until she stopped bleeding and then she straightened herself up and that was that," he recalls. "Today…I hated that you were hurt. I hate seeing you in this much pain. At the gym, with all that blood? I panicked for a second. I absolutely panicked. And it was an accident, it was a goddamn accident, and most importantly, it wasn't even my fucking fault! And I still felt guilty that you were hurt. Like I should have been able to stop it or…whatever."

"Will," Mac tries, and he shakes his head.

"I can't imagine laying a hand on you. I can't imagine physically hurting you," his voice breaks a little. "I would never, Mac, you need to know that. I would never. You don't ever have to be afraid of me."

"I know that, Billy, oh God, I know that," she tells him and she can't stand it, can't stand to see him like this, and so she carefully crawls into his lap, tucking her head into his chest, being careful of her broken nose.

They sit there for another few minutes, Will's arms wrapped tightly around her before she sits up and leans back so she can look at him.

"You heard them," she realizes.

"What?"

"In the emergency room, you heard the doctors and nurses when they thought that you…well, you know," Mac says.

"I did," he sighs.

"I'm going to sue the fuck out of that hospital!" Mac exclaims.

"You can't," he gives her a small smile. "Although I appreciate the gesture."

"The thought that you might…it's so absurd," Mac says. Will doesn't say anything, and Mac rests her head against his. "I mean it, Billy. I've never once been afraid of you. Not once. Not even that awful day when I told you about Brian and everything fell to shit. Not once."

"Yeah," he mutters.

"No, you keep me safe," she insists. "I feel protected and loved and safe when I'm with you. I know you would do anything to keep me safe."

"I would," he agrees softly and she kisses him and then gives him a small smile.

"I love you so much, Will," she says and rests her head against his shoulder. "And later, when you're not so fucked up in the head? We're going to talk about you hurting yourself carrying me into the apartment earlier." He chuckles.

"I look forward to it," he tells her. "Now you should go back to bed. That pain pill's going to kick in and you're going to be down for the count and then I'll have to carry you again." Mac nods and climbs to her feet, her head is throbbing, and she has a list of ways Sloan can make this up to her, starting with a new pair of shoes.

"You're going to be okay? You're not going to sit here brooding all night, right?" Her voice is teasing, but he knows her well enough to know that she's serious. "Come to bed with me, Will. My head hurts, my nose hurts, and I don't want to go to bed alone." She reaches out his hand and he takes it.

He's not his father. He's not. And his mother had no one to take her to the emergency room, and sit with her and worry about her, but Mac does. Mac has him. And he crawls into bed next to her, her hand in his, and for tonight that's enough.