The breaking point... (This one is short, but I think it had to be)

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Jack hung up the phone and sighed. The hour-long conversation with the therapist that Matty patched through to help Jack figure out what to do next regarding Mac's current predicament was very informative. The therapist told him that it sounds like Mac suffered a traumatic event (tell me something I don't know Jack thought when he heard that) at that bank as a child, the events of that time were traumatic enough to likely be suppressed by the boy; however, the Puerto Rican bank heist incident was so similar, it must have triggered an "Opening of the Flood Gates" for Mac, causing the memories, long hidden away, to come barreling down upon him all at once.

The therapist agreed that Jack was on the right track, making Mac talk about what happened when he was a boy in that bank was the only way he would be able to face his past and move on, even if moving on involves additional help, like therapy or medications, the first step would have to be facing the memories.

Jack walked back inside the house and quietly walked into Mac's room to check on the kid. Mac was lying there, staring at the ceiling, quietly; Jack assumed the kid had been asleep; he walked further into the room and spoke. "Hey kiddo, you're supposed to resting"

Mac looked in his direction and blinked; "I am resting" he said in a tone that betrayed his young age.

Jack rolled his eyes at the boy. "I meant sleeping boy, and you know it" Jack's tone in contrast was that of a chastising parent.

Mac shrugged. "I can't shut the images off, so sleeping is out of the question" He said tiredly.

Jack sat down on the bed next to his friend, making Mac move slightly to the side so they could both fit. He put a hand on the kid's chest, over his heart and smiled at Mac. "I'm sorry son, I can see based on what has happened so far, that this is not easy for you" Mac just looked at him; he continued, "but the best thing we can do right now bud is to get all those images, all those memories out on the surface, then, and only then, can we figure out what we need to do next? I can figure out how to help you"

"You are already helping me Jack, you always do…" Mac said quietly.

"And I always will son" Jack answered, patting the boy's chest lightly with his hand. Jack figured, what the hell, this was as good a time as any to keep going; "Mac" Jack looked down at his young friend, "what happened when you saw that gun at the bank?"

Mac was a bit surprised by the fact that Jack just came out and asked like that, but then again, beating around the bush was not going to do him or Jack any good. He was exhausted, physically, mentally, he just wanted to crawl into a dark hole, cover it back up and stay there until the whole World stopped trying to get him (which is what it felt like lately).

"Um…I um…tried to hide the fact that I had seen a gun from the men the best I could, I cried out for grandpa more as a distraction, the men were annoyed enough to tell me to shut up and walk away to the other end of the room, away from the whinny kid I guess" Mac pushed his tired body up slowly up to a sitting position on the bed and looked at Jack straight on before continuing. "The man and the pregnant lady came back into the room after about 15 minutes, I noticed she was bleeding from her lip; that bastard probably hit her…I was just a kid, but I knew you're not supposed to hit women, so I was upset for her"

Jack smiled, again, even as a kid, Mac wanted to help everyone. He nodded towards the kid, "Bastard…"

"Yeah…anyway, the men started to put some duffel bags near the back of the room, towards the back exit, I assume they were filled with money" Mac paused to take a breath. "One of the other women took that opportunity of the men being somewhat distracted, or so she thought, to run towards the front door and try to escape"

Jack waited but Mac had stopped talking, when he looked at the boy he could see the turmoil going on inside his head, sweat was starting to pour from the kid even though the room was comfortably cooled, Mac's hands were intertwined with each other, fingers moving rapidly, his eyes narrowed and downcast.

"Go on kid" Jack pushed (he knew they were close).

"One of the men turned when he noticed the movement…he um…he…" Mac took a deep breath…" He took a knife out of his boot and he um…threw it at the woman's, she was dead before she hit the ground" Mac closed his eyes at the images, all that blood, her scream…

"There was so much blood…I remember screaming, she had screamed too right before the knife entered the back of her neck"

Again, Mac stopped talking, his eyes now closed, his breathing getting fast. Jack pushed, "then what happened Mac?"

It was as if he was on autopilot now, Mac could not stop the images even if he tried, he could not stop them from assaulting him, stop himself from reliving them. The sights, the smell of blood, the strangled sound of the woman's last breath.

"I jumped up and started running toward my grandfather; he saw me and started to yell at me to stop, to get down!" Mac's breathing was galloping like a wild horse running for its life, "I turned my head and I saw one of the men was holding a knife too, he was looking right at me, I.. I….turned to look forward and saw my grandfather, he was running towards me, trying to reach me in time…he cried out my name" Mac's breathing hitched, he paused, tears rolling down his cheeks, a thundering noise rolling between his ears, like a rushing river"

Jack's heart was breaking, but he pushed, "and then what?"

"I could not let them kill my grandpa, I couldn't, I just couldn't, it would have been my fault!" Mac was screaming now, completely lost in the memories, Jack grabbed his hand and squeezed it but said nothing, "I dove under the desk, I had to, I couldn't let them kill my grandfather, I grabbed the gun, I…I pointed it at the men and…I had to, I had to do it! I squeezed the trigger, over and over and over, I couldn't make it stop!...I had to…"

Mac burst out in heart-wrenching, soul-breaking sobs, he was breaking apart at the seams, he was drowning in a sea of memories, of guilt, of pain…

Jack grabbed on to the boy, he held him close to him trying in vain to get through to him, telling him it was OK, it was all going to be all right, but Mac was not hearing him, he couldn't, he was not in that room with Jack, no, he was in that bank so long ago, he was holding a gun that he had pointed and shot at another human being at the tender age of 9; he was completely down the rabbit hole. All Jack could do now was hold him, hold him tight and hope he would be able to put the pieces back together after the storm passed; he, they both, just held on for dear life…