Mac didn't remember the drive home, only that he'd gotten there. He'd stumbled through the house, not bothering to turn on any lights, just getting out on to his deck where he could breathe. Then he had a hard time doing just that, thinking about how Zoe never would again. He leaned against the railing, panting for a while. Too hot, then too cold. Furious, sad, and finally empty.
She'd said she thought she was doing the thing he would have done if he'd been there. He shook his head at no one. Well, not no one, at the ghost of her voice still in his head. The worst part was, she was right. He would have. Hell, he'd have gone in there and done it to stop her from having to if he could have somehow managed it.
As the sun sunk into the sea, Mac stared out at the fading light, at the city coming alive. Was that what it was like for his friends, for Jack, to watch him do what he did? Was that what it had been like to watch him close that door in New York with a container of VX leaking its poison into the room with him? Jesus. No wonder they all had a protective streak.
He stood there by the railing just watching traffic, or at least that's what it would have looked like to anyone who saw him. He really wasn't looking at anything. He was just standing there trying to process just how bereft he felt. He didn't even understand it.
He'd lost civilians on missions before. And it was never easy, never really okay. But normally, he'd just retreat into himself a little, maybe have a beer, and sleep off the feeling. But Zoe had … She'd been different. She'd been, well, like him. And he found that he didn't just feel badly about what happened, but about what could have happened, about not getting to know her more, not having a chance at … whatever. He felt like she'd left a hole in his life today, including the parts that hadn't happened yet.
And he felt like he'd failed her.
He mostly stood wallowing in that. In his failure.
He knew someone had showed up just as it was getting really dark because he saw lights coming on inside. He couldn't be bothered to care. He would have thought that an unknown person entering his house should have set him sweating and his heart racing after what had happened with Murdoc, and he had been feeling like that every time someone rang the doorbell for weeks.
But not tonight. Tonight, it didn't matter.
When Matty joined him on the deck, he barely looked in her direction. She couldn't know it, but she was the last person he wanted to see right now. Part of him wanted to say something about that film, because being angry, shouting at Matty, directing these feelings at someone, something, would have felt … not good, but better than this empty ache that was filling him up.
And he knew he shouldn't feel this way, but knowing that everyone else made it home, made the fact that Zoe didn't cut deeper.
He told Matty he didn't want to talk. And she respected it, didn't push or say anything further. She just stood next to him for a few minutes, resting her hand near his on the railing, but not touching him. When it became clear that he really wasn't going to say anything, that her presence was just increasing his tension, she turned to go.
She said quietly, over her shoulder, "There was nothing else you could have done, Mac."
He held up an hand in a sharp dismissive gesture, but still said nothing.
"I'm so sorry, MacGyver." She walked back into the house, taking out her cell phone and dialing. "Jack. I need to see you. Immediately."
0-0-0
Less than an hour later, Jack walked out onto the deck. He'd called out several times after letting himself in. He knew how edgy Mac had been about people coming in his front door since Murdoc's latest visit to LA. But Mac didn't answer.
In fact, he stood like a statue, just facing the skyline, just like Matty said she had left him. Jack didn't even get into his partners space. He just sat down in one of the deck chairs and watched Mac not move for a few minutes.
Finally, he said very quietly, "Mac, buddy, how long have you been standing there?"
He saw what might have been a slight shrug, or maybe was a flinch because not being alone surprised him. And if it was the second one, that worried Jack a lot. Situational awareness kept them alive. And the last time Mac had let his feelings cloud his judgement, he'd gotten pinched by the bad guys. Then Mac answered and Jack was pretty sure it had been a shrug.
"I don't know."
His voice was almost cold.
"Alright," Jack replied levelly. "How long are you going to stand there?"
This time the shrug was more distinct. "I don't know."
Jack nodded to himself. This was bordering on the closed off tone Mac had used with him after Nikki had supposedly died, was what he'd seen when Mac first came home from Afghanistan. But it was worse. Colder, deeper. Instead of boxing up his feelings and throwing them down the deep well he kept at the back of his mind, Mac had pitched himself right in and had no idea how to swim back out.
"Mind if I stand there with ya then?"
Mac stiffened. "I …"
"We don't have to talk, kid. I just don't think you should be alone right now."
Mac nodded, a movement so slight Jack almost didn't catch it. "Okay," he replied after a minute.
Jack got up and stood near his friend, but not too close. Crowding him would be a mistake. After a while, Mac seemed to edge a step closer. Finally, Jack risked opening his mouth again. "Is there anything I can do?"
"No … But I should have done more," he answered.
Jack could hear the tension of tears unshed in his partner's voice. That was good, actually. It meant he was still near enough the surface, not so deep in that it would be all that hard to get him to come back out. "Don't be too mad, bud, but Matty called and told me what happened."
"I figured," he shrugged.
Jack ventured a glance at Mac's profile and a tear was slowly sliding down his cheek. "You did everything you could, bud. And staying with her like that, you knew how hard that would be, but you did it anyway. You're about the bravest guy I've ever met."
"It wasn't brave, Jack. She didn't deserve to die alone. And it was my …" He stopped himself.
"Not your fault, and you know it," Jack said, with just a little heat. Then he couldn't quite stop himself anymore and he put a hand on Mac's shoulder. "But I know it feels like it right now."
Mac was shaking, trying to stop himself from shaking, and it was just making it worse. He leaned heavily on the railing. "I'm just … tired," he finished lamely.
"I'm sorry for your loss, kid." He squeezed the shoulder where his hand was resting gently.
"I … I didn't even know her Jack," he said defensively, sounding all kinds of pissed off all of a sudden.
Jack shook his head, smiling sadly. "But you wanted to. I talked to Cage and she said you two had really hit it off, that she was worried you were taking what happened personally because of that."
"What the hell does she care?" Mac snapped. Jesus, he was tired of that woman trying to crawl inside his head.
"Mac, I called her, okay? I wanted to know what happened. And she's pretty good at getting to the heart of things. It's like a goddamned super power."
"Don't do that, Jack. Don't talk to other people about me," his voice was hard. "If I need help, I'll ask for it."
"Since when?" Jack chided gently.
Mac spun a half turn away from him, the pace of his breathing picking up. He was right, and Mac knew it. Zoe had pointed out to him all too clearly what it was like to watch someone disregard their own life by putting others above it. "Go home, Jack. I'll be okay. Sometimes missions that go bad are hard to take is all," he offered, his voice tight. He was close to falling apart now, and he didn't need anyone around for that, damnit.
"I'm sorry, Mac. Maybe I shouldn't have called her," Jack conceded. "But it seems like maybe this wasn't just a mission either; you really did make a connection like you haven't in a long time. Like maybe you really liked that scientist gal."
"Her name was Zoe, Jack."
Mac took a shuddering breath.
Then another.
"It's Greek for life," he said, as though it was a cruel joke. "And I think hers would have been great. I think it would have been great to know her. And now she's lost."
The tears started in earnest then and he slammed his fists into the railing hard enough to make himself gasp.
"Oh, hey kid. Don't," Jack said, pulling Mac into his arms.
Mac knew he cried, and that it went on for a while. He knew he sobbed into Jack's shoulder for what felt like forever. Eventually he found himself sitting on his couch, blowing his nose repeatedly, and trying not to be angry at himself for letting himself come apart at the seams like that.
Jack sat down next to him again, putting a cup of hot tea on a coaster on the coffee table in front of Mac. Mac shook his head. "I don't need anything, Jack, but thanks anyway."
"Tea'll unstuff your nose. Tell me you wouldn't like that at least a little bit now," Jack gave him a soft smile. Mac's tendency to forget to eat or drink properly when he was upset was something he'd been working to remedy almost since he met the kid. He thought it was an instinct he'd picked up from his Nana.
Mac shrugged. "A little," he admitted, picking it up and taking a sip. "Ugh, you put sugar in it. It's all yours." Mac forced a smile, handing the cup to his partner.
Jack knew a fake smile when he saw one, but he took it and started drinking it anyway, although he thought that no one in their right mind ever had tea that wasn't over ice, and this wasn't sweet enough to be proper tea anyway. "You gonna be okay now, you think?" he asked.
"Yeah, Jack," he said honestly. "I will. Just … It feels really unfair, in a long line of unfair things. Hurts. A lot." He shrugged.
Jack nodded. Mac hadn't exactly been blessed with great luck, as far as he could tell. "But I think maybe meeting her was a good thing, Mac."
Mac glanced at him, then away. "She was great."
"Everything happens …"
"Don't say for a reason!" Mac snapped. "My grandfather always used to say that … And … It just doesn't. Or if it does, if you guys are right and there's some big cosmic plan, it's a shitty plan." He stopped, realizing he was breathing heavily again, and really not wanting to start crying again.
"But I really think it does, Mac." Jack slid next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. "I think this feels so bad for a couple reasons." He paused, but Mac didn't say anything. He was listening though. "First, you always take it hard when things go south. You know you do."
"Yeah," he conceded almost dismissively. This went so much deeper than that.
"And," Jack went on, sensing his thoughts. "This Zoe made you remember what it was like to want somebody around. To care about them not just because they're another human being, but because you like how having them around feels for you, too."
Mac was tensing again, but he stayed quiet. This seemed like one of those times, Jack was really offering something from his experiences that would mean something.
"Maybe the reason you met her, maybe it was so you could be reminded what you've been forcing yourself to miss out on since everything went to hell with Nikki."
"I haven't been …"
"Yeah, you have," Jack persisted. He felt Mac shrug against the arm he had around him. That was as close to admitting Jack was right Mac was likely to get. "Maybe you met her so you could remember what you've been missing. That connection, knowing that another person really understands you, wants you at your best and your worst."
Mac took a breath and thought about it. He guessed what Jack was saying made a certain amount of sense. But he'd never really had that with Nikki. He'd wanted it, offered it to her even. But nothing he could remember about their relationship said that was a two-way street. Even if she hadn't been using him for her cover with CIA, she'd used him in other ways, he thought.
He nodded though. "I don't know, Jack," he said shakily.
"You said her name meant Life, right?"
Mac swallowed hard. Jack squeezed him around the shoulders. "Then maybe you didn't lose her at all, Mac. Maybe she showed you that you deserve one of those. And that there's somebody out there somewhere who would be perfect to share it with you."
Mac felt a few more tears spill out of the corner of his eyes, but he looked at Jack and smiled a little. This one wasn't forced at all.
"Maybe."
