AN: I don't know if you guys are still reading, but I hope so. Sorry it's been so long, but I'll be finishing the story in the next couple of days. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think.
Chapter Nine
People don't realize just how long it takes for certain parts of the body to heal. Bones and muscle and skin all have their own timelines.
Mac's lung was actually the first to heal completely, to recover from being dissected. She still felt short of breath sometimes, but honestly didn't know if it was because of her injury, or because of the knowledge that the doctors had removed a portion of the lower lobe.
The rib that was shattered by the bullet was unsalvageable, so the doctors cleaned up the sharp edges, and left it alone. Her shoulder blade still had a small hole left behind from the large caliber projectile, and the muscles on her back were almost entirely repaired. In truth, the surgery had done more widespread damage than the bullet, if one took the time to think about it.
The true problem came with her skin. By now, the internal stitches had dissolved, and the ones on her back had been removed, but her surgical scar was angry. It was raised –a keloid, they call it- and long. It tightened her skin, pulled at it with its unyielding shape. Pressure against it was almost impossible to withstand, something she was forced to remember when Tuck squeezed her so tightly.
White had flashed in her eyes, followed shortly by stars. It left her dazed, lightheaded, and short of breath. The day was warm enough that after the shock to her system, Mac remained inside to cool down and gather her wits again.
"You sure you're alright?" Tuck asked as he slid a glass of ice-cold water across the island to where Mac sat.
"Yeah, fine." She nodded. Mac took hold of it, let the frigid temperature encompass her hand briefly before she pressed her palm to the back of her neck. "Just… just a bit dizzy, is all."
When she looked up, she saw him leaning against the island across from her, his hands planted against the surface, and worry marring his features. His brows were pulled so tightly together that she wondered briefly if it hurt.
"I'm fine." She repeated, this time forcing a smile.
Tuck did the same, but his face barely relaxed.
"Dad!"
The joyful, loud, sound of Joe's voice filled the kitchen, jolting the pair back into reality. Their attention shifted to the open double-doors. Joe raced in with a wide smile. Mac recognized him easily. Tuck had shown her a dozen pictures.
"Hey, buddy." Tuck chuckled, leaning down and lifting up his son, plopping him onto the island. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the wad of crushed bills in his son's hand.
"I found it in some of the eggs." Joe replied happily.
"Apparently," A beautiful dark-haired woman stepped in with a smile. "Your Nan put money in some of the plastic eggs this year."
The dark-haired young woman glided to the island, standing against the edge that separated Tuck from Mac. She looked familiar to the Scot, but she couldn't place her, not even when their gazes met. What she was able to discern, however, was that the dark-haired young woman didn't seem to like her. There was a skeptical glint in her brown eyes that made Mac uncomfortable. She didn't understand why the stranger already seemed to dislike her, so she diverted her attention to the others in the room.
Mac smiled while Tuck groaned, laughing a little in the process. "Of course she did." He replied.
"I found eleven dollars." Joe said, still giddy with his prize.
"That's pretty awesome, man." Tuck replied.
Mac liked seeing Tuck interact with his son. It was a part of him she'd never seen before, yet somehow expected. Tuck was nothing but nurturing, so it made sense that he'd be an amazing father, too.
"Hey," he said after catching Mac's eye briefly. "I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. Joe, this is…" he hesitated briefly, and Mac noticed. She met his stare, praying he didn't call her Mac. She wasn't that person anymore, and even if she was, his family only knew her as Angela. Thankfully, Tuck seemed to realize the same. "Angela."
Joe turned to look at the young woman behind him and smiled. "Hi," he said with a slight wave.
"Hello, there." Mac replied kindly.
"And this," Tuck shifted attention to the stranger. He moved closer to her and even put his arm around her, but something looked off. He didn't seem as comfortable as one should, which Mac thought was odd. "Is Katie."
"Ah," Mac chimed. She did her best to appear in the moment, even if the moment was fraught with imagined tension. "Joe's mum." Mac extended a hand to the surprised and still distrustful Katie. "I've heard a lot of wonderful things about you." She lied. "Angela."
"Hi," Katie said in a tone that matched her expression as she shook Mac's hand. "I haven't heard a thing about you."
Mac saw Tuck's face fall and his gaze shoot to her out of the corner of her eye. Poor thing. He looked like he was about to burst, too filled with anxiety to properly lie like they'd all been trained to do. Either that, or he was embarrassed Katie admitted he hadn't told her about Mac at all.
"I'm not entirely surprised." Mac said, recovering from her twinge of hurt that the second circumstance was the most likely. "I've only recently returned to Los Angeles. Until a few weeks ago, the last time I'd spoken to Tuck was when he told me that the two of you were expecting this one." She said with a wide, innocent smile that seemed to help put Katie a little at ease. "So, it makes sense he never mentioned me." Mac turned her attention back to Tuck. He looked stuck somewhere between relieved and still wound so tightly he might rupture a blood vessel. "I'm going to go find Lauren and Foster, perhaps get a bite to eat. I think that might help with the dizziness." She took hold of her water and stood. "Thanks again for the water."
"Yeah, sure." He nodded repeatedly.
"It was a pleasure to meet both of you." Mac was sure to say to Katie and Joe before leaving the kitchen.
She felt better the moment she was out of that small space. Mac was a little annoyed with the whole thing. Not only did she not recognize Katie, but she was fairly certain the ex-wife was giving her the stink eye the whole time.
The only time she'd ever seen Katie before was through a picture. Life being what it was when Mac was still living in Los Angeles, and all three of them apparently working for the government, Mac was never sad that she hadn't met Katie. But Tuck, being so proud and in love as he was at the time, showed her a picture. Back then, Katie's hair was much shorter and blonde. Add to that the fact that she was ten years younger, and it was a bit of a change.
Still, Mac didn't really like her. She was rude and a bit cold. Not really a great first impression.
True to her word, Mac said goodbye to everyone little more than an hour after arriving. She hadn't quite recovered properly and needed to take a pain killer, her first in more than a week, apparently. Tuck felt terrible for it, especially since they'd only just started making their way back across the giant chasm that had formed between them when the truth came out. She told him repeatedly that she was fine, but he still felt bad.
He and Foster were sitting at Foster's apartment, the game on in the background, though neither of them were paying much attention to it. Foster wasn't a fan of soccer, but Tuck was. Still, Man U wasn't playing, so he barely watched. He just liked to keep up.
"So, how'd it go?" Foster asked. Tuck was amazed he lasted so long. They'd been sitting together watching the DVR'd game for more than ten minutes before Foster finally dove into it.
"How'd what go?" Tuck asked, feigning ignorance.
Instead of verbally replying, Foster elbowed his brother, hard, causing Tuck to nearly drop his beer.
"Watch it." He chastised lazily. "It went fine, alright?"
"Just fine?"
Tuck let out a heavy sigh as he looked at the man to his left. Foster had a brow raised and a smirk on his lips.
"It went really well, okay?" he said.
"So you apologized."
Tuck nodded as he took a sip from his longneck, "Yeah."
He could see Foster staring at him intently, waiting for him to continue, but he had no desire to. As a result, Foster grew impatient.
"And?" he pressed.
"And what?" Tuck asked with a hint of a chuckle. "We're friends again, I guess."
Foster let out an exasperated sigh as he fall back into his couch. Tuck glanced to him briefly. "It's amazing." Foster mumbled.
"What is?" Tuck asked as he sipped his beer again.
"You're the smartest moron I've ever met."
Tuck shot his brother a confused, and slightly annoyed glare, but Foster couldn't seem bothered to notice. Instead, he watched the football match he had no interest in.
Tuck went back to the game as well, but kept thinking about what Foster could've meant. Why was he a moron? Because it took so long for him to apologize? Tuck couldn't argue with that. He knew he should have much sooner, but still. That was a bit rude.
His mind drifted back to a few hours prior while they were all at Nana's house. It felt good talking to Mac again, even if she was using Angela's voice. He liked seeing her, speaking to her, and feeling her in his arms again. It would've been perfect if he wasn't so overzealous and accidently hurt her. And then Katie emerged, adding more guilt to the situation. He wished to hell she hadn't told Mac that Tuck never mentioned her, but it wasn't a lie. He didn't tell Katie about her. What would he have said?
When he and Katie started dating, he was consumed by her, and the thought of mentioning that he had a close female friend didn't even don on him. Then, when he was prepared to introduce them, Foster scared the shit out of him by saying Katie would never believe it. He quoted When Harry Met Sally, of all things, that speech about how men and women can't be friends. Somehow, by the end of it, Tuck was so scared that Katie would think something was going on between him and "Angela" that he didn't want to risk it. Katie, at the time, was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he didn't want something stupid to mess it up. After a while, he just got used to saying, "my friend" without ever offering a pronoun.
Looking back, he could see how ridiculous it was, but at the time it made total sense.
"Hey," Foster said after a few moments of nothing. Tuck jolted back into reality. "You hear anything more about that job coming up?"
"The one in Ukraine?"
"Yeah,"
"Nah," he shook his head. "Just that we'll be dropped in and have to do the jump at night, mate. Still don't know when yet. Sometime in the next couple of weeks, though."
Foster gave a lazy nod. They had a job coming up in Eastern Europe, but the details were still classified. They wouldn't know until a day or two beforehand. A lot of moving parts, apparently. No "men of leisure" this time. It was rumored to be a black-bag operation, or something else equally sinister.
A week later, the date of the mission was finally put into writing. In three days, Tuck and Foster would be on their way overseas. Both had things to do before they left.
Tuck was speaking to Mac more freely than before, partially out of wanting to and partially forcing himself to. Some stupid, childish part in the back of his brain still thought he should be insulted and offended, but the larger part –thankfully, the logical part- recognized it and chose not to listen. He was glad, too, especially since that childish bit shut the hell up the moment he saw her again.
"Come on, then." He said, still trying to goad her into working out despite how badly he didn't wish to proceed. "You need the exercise."
She put her hands on her hips as she arched a delicate brow at him. "You callin' me fat, Tucker?"
Tuck opened his mouth to speak, but words wouldn't come out. The longer he stood there, gaping at her, the more annoyed her expression became.
"I…" he stammered.
Without warning, Mac smiled wide. She let loose a string of giggles at his expense causing him to glare at her as his heart rate returned to normal.
"I'm jus' takin' the piss, Tuck." She smiled. "I know my ass is smaller than yours."
His gaze instantly drifted down, taking in her profile. He smirked, arching a brow of his own as he met her gaze again. Tuck gave a shrug.
"If you say so." He teased.
She glowered playfully and flipped him off. Tuck chuckled. "Come on. You're the one who wanted to do this."
"I know, I know." She groaned.
A couple of days ago, while still struggling to complete her rehab, Mac approached Tuck with a proposition. She wasn't a fan of the weight lifting aspect to re-strengthen her shoulder, and wanted, instead, to spar. Tuck was, understandably, horrified that she wanted to fight when she was so clearly sensitive, but she rationalized that she needed to get through the pain as quickly as possible. She said she wanted to fight, to get the feel of what being hurt with her healing wounds would feel like so she knew what to expect. She told him that she needed to know and pussyfooting around it wouldn't help her at all.
He wondered why she didn't ask Foster. Mac laughed and jokingly said she needed a challenge. Tuck couldn't help but let out a loud, boisterous laugh at that, too.
"Alright," Mac said as she tucked her baggy shirt into her yoga pants. It was bulky and looked ridiculous.
"Why are you wearing that?" he asked. To Tuck, it looked uncomfortable, and unnecessary. Beneath the worn and stretched neck of the band t-shirt she was wearing, he could see the wide black straps of a sports bra. The baggy shirt didn't seem to make sense.
Mac shifted uncomfortably as he strapped on a pair of fingerless gloves. "I uh… I'm covered in scars." She said before tentatively meeting his gaze. "I don' like people seein' 'em."
His heart sank, but he nodded. He wasn't going to press her. He remembered how embarrassed she was when he noticed the marks on her side, the ones that were much older than the injury he was tending to.
The pair squared themselves off on one another, knelt low, and ready. Their actions were slow at first, not tentative, but measured. They moved that way for a few minutes before their speed increased. Gradually, each thrown punch grew in intensity and precision.
Soon, they were genuinely fighting one another, though Tuck still held back. He was afraid he'd hurt her. Images of the pain in her eyes at nothing more than a hug flashed in his mind every time he lunged for her, but Mac was clearly doing her best. And she was getting frustrated.
Suddenly, Mac dropped to the floor. She kicked forward, sweeping Tuck's legs out from under him. His back hit the floor of his apartment with a hard thud, stunning him briefly. Mac was on him in an instant, straddling his lower stomach and pressing all of her body weight down on his shoulders, pinning him in place.
"Yer not takin' this seriously." she told him angrily. She shoved at his shoulder again before sitting upright. "I need to know what I'm in for." She said. "Holdin' back idn't gonna help me."
Tuck took a deep breath and sighed. He didn't think she was ready for this, and decided that he should probably prove it to her.
Without warning, he sat up, wrapping his arms around her body and pinning them in place. He spun the pair of them, smashing her back into the mat. She let out a cry from the sudden impact. Tuck quickly grabbed her wrists and pinned them down, too, sure to keep his body pressed firmly to hers.
He could see her pain without her speaking it. Her face was suddenly flushed, her cheeks bright pink. Her eyes had lost focus and her brows pulled together tightly. It was obvious she was struggling to come back from it, to push past the ache he knew was radiating through her body. Even though he hadn't thrown her down hard, he was well aware of how sore her body had to be. He'd been shot before, hurt for weeks, and he hadn't needed intense surgery for it.
"Okay," she said, her voice strained and heavy, and her eyes slammed shut. Tuck released her wrists, but stayed where he was, propping himself above her by his elbow and leaning a little to the side, one hand tenderly wrapped around her waist as though it'd help assuage the ache she felt. "Okay," she nodded. "You win, mate. You win." Finally, she managed to open her eyes and looked up at him. "I'm not ready."
"I'm sorry." He told her sadly. "But, ya know, I just… I wanted to show you."
"Yeah," she nodded. "Could've shown me a bit gentler," she said with a hint of teasing that made him smile. "But I got yer point."
"Gentler?" he countered. "You're so bloody stubborn, there is no gentler."
"Fair enough." She smiled.
Tuck did the same, staring down at her sweetly. He couldn't help himself, it was just a byproduct of the moment. His gaze danced over her face, taking in every bit it could. He was still pressed against her, his chest firmly on hers while her legs remained wrapped around his hips and her hands clutching the back of his shirt.
He didn't know when it began, but when his mind finally returned to the moment, Tuck realized he was caressing her side. His thumb was tenderly drifting back and forth in a loving action, and it was then the rest of the compromising situation came to him.
The second he found clarity, Tuck knew he had to move. Clearing his throat, he pushed himself to his feet. He offered Mac a hand, which she took, and stood herself. He was flustered, but did his best to hide it. That was the second time he'd slipped into something too familiar with Mac, something too comfortable for people who are just friends.
He had to remind himself of that simple fact more than he should. They were just friends, and he was dating Katie again. Whatever little crush he clearly had was just that: a crush.
In an effort not to show how uncomfortable he'd made himself during their brief sparring match, Tuck didn't suggest that she leave or insinuate he had plans to tend to as much as he wanted to. Instead, he decided to act as though nothing had happened, because, in the end, nothing had happened.
With a bottle of water each, the pair retired to the couch to relax. Even out of the corner of his eye, Tuck could see how disappointed Mac was that she was still so sore. He pitied her, a bit.
"You're only human." He felt the need to say. He saw her roll her head towards him and did the same to meet her eye. Tuck gave her a small smile. "It's alright that you can't do it all right now."
"It's really not." She grumbled in response. "I feel so… useless, and weak, an'… I should be better by now."
His brows furrowed. "You serious?" he asked, pushing himself up and shifting enough he could look at her incredulously. "You died, Angel. Died." He noticed her flinch and wondered briefly if she was even aware of the fact. "In the helicopter, your heart stopped. It was only for a moment, but," he shook his head as he slipped back into that moment. It still chilled his blood. "Stop being so bloody hard-headed, alright?"
Tuck fell back into the couch, shaking his head to himself as he sipped on his water. He was actually a little annoyed that she seemed unable to accept what happened to her. Mac was irritated, of all things, that she couldn't throw a proper punch or what-have-you, not relieved to be alive like he felt she should be.
"Sorry," she mumbled. Tuck rolled his head to look at her. Mac suddenly appeared to him like a child who'd been scolded. In a way, she was.
Reaching over, he grabbed her hand and held it. The action was second-nature, something he'd done a thousand times before without thinking.
"It's alright." He sighed. "It's not your fault your Scottish."
"Oi!"
Tuck laughed when she reared back and slapped his arm for the fake insult he'd paid her. He laughed happily, in fact, and was grateful for it. It felt like a long time since he'd done so.
"You're lucky I even like you, ya ass."
"I know." He grinned.
The two fell silent for a moment, watching the TV before Mac spoke again. "Ya called me Angel." She said softly. He didn't move as she fell against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Tuck felt his heart race in slight panic at the slip. He hadn't even realized he said it. "Haven't called me that in a while."
"Yeah, well…" was his only response before he changed the subject entirely. "Franklin and I have a job in the next couple of days."
"Have to do a thing somewhere?"
He smirked to himself, grateful she wasn't pressing for details, "Yeah."
Mac reached for his hand again, threading her fingers through his and holding it tightly. "Be careful, both of you."
Surprisingly himself, Tuck kissed the top of her head. It was chaste and nothing near indecent, but something he hadn't done since before Tobias Heinrick.
"We will." He said before letting his head rest against hers.
