Jack remembered just as the elevator chimed before the doors opened on the parking garage that Mac hadn't come to Phoenix in his Jeep. He checked his phone, hoping perhaps that there was a text from his partner, but there was nothing.
He proceeded to where he'd parked his car, half expecting to find Mac leaning against the hood, arms folded, upset that his dramatic exit had been thwarted by the lack of a means to flee. Jack was once again disappointed.
Where the Hell had the kid gotten to?
Jack had a feeling Mac had been on the edge of breaking down, or at least losing his cool, because when he'd turned on his heel and left Oversight's office, he hadn't looked left or right, had almost determinedly avoided looking at Jack or anyone else.
Jack got into his car and started it, then realized if Mac wasn't here, and hadn't texted him he had no idea what to do or where to go. Had the kid just taken off for home on foot? That was … Jack did some mental math (the kind he was good at since it involved just calling up a map of the city he had in his head - he'd always been good with maps) … twelve miles. Jack sighed.
Mac had gone to Medical with no one prompting him, had still been coughing periodically like he was going to try to yack up a lung, and Jack knew he was a little busted up too, if only because when he'd ridden back in to Phoenix with Oversight, it had been mentioned that the medic suspected injured ribs. But he wouldn't put it past the kid to decide to just hoof it home after that, even in the bruising late spring heat of the city.
Jack took out his phone and tried Mac's number, thinking if the kid wasn't going to call him, he'd just make it clear, job at Phoenix or no job at Phoenix, he still had Mac's back.
A bland female voice answered. "Hello?"
"Who's this?" Jack asked, feeling a brief moment of panic, not unlike he'd felt when he'd walked into Mac's last fall and realized Murdoc had taken him.
Someone else answering Mac's phone was not okay. Not even at all.
"Agent Dalton," the woman said, without pausing, so he knew she was sure of his identity. "This is Amber in the Phoenix Administrative Office. Mr. MacGyver left his phone at the front desk on his way out of the building several minutes ago. If you happened to call this number, Oversight has requested you return to his office to speak about this matter."
Jack swore under his breath. "You let Mr. Oversight know, he's gonna have to wait a little bit to talk …"
"Agent Dalton, he requested that you return immediately, sir, and …"
"Like I said, honey, he's just gonna have to wait." Jack hung up and immediately called Matty.
"Jack, Oversight …"
"Can kiss my ass at the moment, Matilda. Mac's gone. His phone's here. And I have no idea how in the hell he left with his car at home or which way he mighta gone. Help or hang up." Jack's voice left no room for argument.
He heard Matty cover the mouthpiece and say something.
He waited.
He was about ready to just toss his phone onto the seat and take off, hoping that maybe Mac had headed home on the usual driving route if he'd gone on foot, when she came back, her voice quiet. "Jack … Oversight is …"
"Pissed?" Jack asked, without any sympathy whatsoever.
He was pretty pissed himself, and he couldn't decide if it was at Mac for just walking out the way he had, Oversight for whatever happened that might have caused that, or himself for allowing something like a supervisor throwing his weight around to separate him from his partner when Mac had so clearly needed him.
"Upset," Matty said, her voice tight. "I'm running interference, but he said as far as he's concerned Mac no longer works here so you …"
"I'm taking a personal day or two. I just hurt like hell from crashing that truck into that building to bail his sorry ass outta there. You tell him I'm gonna go home and recover. I've got the sick time. I'm usin' it. He can't even write me up for that without looking like the asshole," he said, making it very clear that it was absolutely just a story he was making up on the fly and he was going to need her to sell it for him.
Or Oversight could fire him.
At the moment he didn't really give a good goddamn.
"That's actually pretty clever, Jack," she said with subdued admiration.
"Tell me you've got something for me, Matty. I'll take anything."
Jack could have sworn he could hear Riley in the background during the brief pause. Then Matty was back. "Camera has him heading away from the building, on foot, going north east. Riley says she's not accessing the cameras outside Phoenix on her work laptop. If Mac doesn't want Phoenix to track him, which she thinks he must not if he left his phone, she doesn't want to be part of it."
Jack was about to get annoyed, but he actually respected that. "Tell her I said thanks for giving me a place to start."
He was about to end the call and head out in a northeasterly direction, but Matty's voice stopped him.
"When you find him Jack ... let me know he's okay? Just … I don't think he'll mind. It's not like we don't know where he lives," she added.
"Will do, Matty." Jack nodded, frowning as he pulled out of the parking garage. "What good would ditching that phone be if he was just going home?" Jack mumbled to himself.
He had a terrible feeling suddenly that Mac was going to drop off the grid, just disappear out of his life. Jack didn't know anyone who'd been in the business for very long who was even halfway decent at it that didn't have at least one identity they'd developed that they could use in an emergency, like getting burn noticed (disavowed, if you wanted to be formal about it).
And Mac was very, very good.
Jack had scoffed when Mac said he could find Jack in a day, but Jack figured he was probably not far off the mark. Not because Jack wasn't good, but because Mac was just that incredible, that much better, smarter, than anyone else Jack had ever known. He was afraid if Mac didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be able to find him. The guy had a secret escape hatch in his own house for Christ's sake.
Would Mac do something like that? Jack hoped not, hoped the bond they had meant more than that, and he was sure, deep down that it did, but what happened between Mac and his father that made him quit was still a mystery.
He drove around for what felt like an eternity. His eyes scanned the sidewalks, overpasses, bike paths, anywhere he thought Mac might be walking along. And every time he saw a glint of blond hair (of which there was an abundance in this part of town) he got hopeful for a second, only to be disappointed a second later.
He tried calling Mac's house phone, calling Bozer, even calling a couple of mutual friends that he thought there was the barest possibility Mac might have called if he believed everyone at Phoenix was off limits.
He'd just about made up his mind to head to Mac's place and see if he was either there or if he could figure out where he might have gone from things that were lying around when his phone rang. He glanced at it on his seat. It was an unknown number. Probably Oversight. He thought briefly about ignoring it.
Then he decided, screw it, if it was Oversight and he wanted to give him an ass-chewing for leaving, he'd just chew right back with the mood he was in right now. He was pretty sure he had at least thirty new grey hairs since Mac and walked out the double doors of the executive wing about an hour and a half before.
"Dalton," he said after hitting the green button.
"Jack, man, I was starting to think I was gonna be stuck with voicemail."
"Mac! Where the hell are you?"
"Um … at the Apple store. Just got my new phone set up. Are you still at work?"
"No, I'm lookin' for you, ya big dumb genius."
"Of course you are. Wanna come pick me up? I'd rather ride with you than get an Uber even if you do drive like a maniac in that new car." There was an almost a natural sounding chuckle, but it was still a little forced. Jack knew him well enough to pick up on it. "If I don't want to be as grey as you, I probably shouldn't have helped you drop that V8 in there, huh?"
"Sure, kid," Jack said easily, as though his heart wasn't absolutely hammering in relief that Mac hadn't decided to just be Alan Green or Foster Adams or whoever the hell and relocate to Poduck, Mississippi or something to sell cars for the rest of his life. "Which Apple store?"
"I'm at The Grove," Mac answered. "Meet you across the street from there so you don't have to try crossing traffic?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure, good idea," Jack said distractedly, deciding exactly what moves he needed to make to get to the shopping center with minimal traffic problems.
"Thanks," was all Mac said before ending the call.
About fifteen minutes later when Jack pulled up into the nearest parking spot he could find, he couldn't pick Mac out of the crowd, and he started to worry again.
Suddenly, though, his partner was by his open window passing in an iced coffee from Groundwork. "It's got that chocolate crap you like in it," he said, before walking around the car, like this was just any other day, and getting in, drinking what Jack was pretty sure was chai if the smell was any indication.
Jack took a drink of his coffee before setting it in the cup holder in the center console. "Thanks, man, that's perfect." He pulled out into traffic, merging seamlessly in the suicidally tight crush of cars.
"Least I can do for the lift, pal," Mac replied, flashing a small but very genuine smile.
"Any time, bud. I got you." Jack paused, swallowing hard against a lump that was suddenly, unexpectedly in his throat. "You know that right? Like I've always got your back no matter …"
Mac stopped him gently. He couldn't do a big emotional talk right now. "Jack, I know, okay? You don't have to say it. Wookie life debt, right?"
One corner of Jack's mouth lifted almost against his will. How was Mac this okay, this cool? Or was this his usual holding shit together with the spiritual equivalent of bubblegum and paperclips until he got somewhere private?
Time would tell.
Instead of saying anything else, he made another very convincing wookie sound and gave Mac his biggest, cockiest grin.
Mac smiled back at him and then took another drink from his cup, brow creasing a little. After a few minutes, he took another drink and this time Jack didn't have to see his face because he heard him mumble, "Bleh."
"Cold?" Jack asked.
"No, just … decaf. And I don't care what anybody says, it doesn't taste the same."
"I thought it was a little weird that you didn't have a coffee. And decaf tea to boot. Man, did you decide to just flip your whole life upside down this afternoon, or what, bud?" Jack said, teasing, but hoping maybe this was an opening to get Mac talking. Mac just smirked a little, so Jack continued. "You haven't gone vegan on me while I wasn't lookin', too, have ya?"
"Yeah, right. I'm gonna give up Bozer's secret recipe burgers," Mac snickered and shook his head. Then he said a little bit seriously, "I'm actually sort of hoping I'm turning my life right side up, Jack."
He looked Jack's way, but his friend had gone back to looking sort of deliberately at the road.
"I couldn't face decaf coffee so I decided to try tea. I figured the spices would be enough to cover up the fakeness of it, but no such luck."
"Why the decaf?" Jack prodded gently, as he swung onto the private road to Mac's place. They hadn't really talked about where they were going, but Mac hadn't said anything when he took the exit, so he figured he'd made the right call.
Mac shrugged. "Doc gave me prednisone for the whole coughing-and-breathed-in-a-bunch-of-garbage thing. That stuff makes me jittery."
Jack shook his head as he pulled into the parking area.
"Still can't believe you just waltzed into Medical like you hadn't basically told Oversight to go fly a kite about it … and I hadn't had a chance to nag your ear off yet."
He slid the car into park and Mac got out, immediately dumping the offending cup of decaffeinated disappointment. He leaned against the top of the car, resting his elbows there, empty cup still held casually in one hand.
"I know how much junk I inhaled … I'm not an idiot, Jack."
"I'm the last guy on Earth who'd ever suggest such a thing. But you …" he trailed off as both Mac's eyebrows went up.
"Don't like being ordered to put up with being run through every ridiculous test known to man because I stubbed my goddamned toe in the field," he said, a little stridently. "Half the stuff we've been more or less held hostage at Medical for wouldn't even get you consideration for sick call in the Army, Jack. Which makes me think Oversight is the one who's ordered it all the time, not Matty, and maybe he was behind their usual overkill. If he was so damned worried about what happened to me, maybe sending me out to get shot at and blown up, and to jump out of planes and climb up buildings with vacuum cleaner suction devices, or get kidnapped by crazy fucking assassins, wasn't exactly the career path he should have steered me into!"
Okay, some real emotion, just not the one Jack was expecting. "Mac, I know it doesn't make much sense," Jack began.
"No, it doesn't make any sense," Mac said, his voice losing its heat and becoming more tired and plainly frustrated. "C'mon, man, let's just go inside … Unless you need to go back to ..?"
"Takin' a personal day, kid. I crashed a truck in Mexico, or didn't you notice?"
"Are you okay?" Mac asked, starting around the car, clearly concerned.
Jack waved him off. "Course I am. Like you said, wouldn't even get me half a day's sick call, bud. Just, what's the boss gonna say?"
Mac grinned. "I appreciate you picking me up. I felt a little stupid walking out of there with no phone, no car … but there was no staying."
Mac glanced around outside, looking up at the trees, the power poles, the street cam visible from where he was, then just started inside. Jack jogged a few steps to catch up. "Why did you leave your phone, bud? Ri and I got worried you were gonna just … I dunno … Go underground or something."
Mac broke out laughing. "I just said I'm not stupid. I have to remind you I'm not crazy, too?" Jack cocked an eyebrow. "The phone belongs to Phoenix, Jack. I wasn't going to take it with me."
Jack started laughing a little bit, too, as Mac let them into the house. "I dunno, Mac. I guess we freaked out thinking you were freaking out … I mean, you just went from joking with me about being partners basically from one end of the galaxy to the other to walking out in less than two minutes, and ... you've been with Phoenix for …"
"Too long, buddy." Mac closed the door behind them. He paused. Then he locked it. He looked at the plainly worried expression on Jack's face. He wasn't really ready to talk …
No, he told himself. If that was true, he wouldn't have called Jack for a ride. He would have called an Uber, texted Jack, Ri, Boze, and maybe even Matty that he was fine, and gone home.
If any of them had shown up and he really hadn't wanted to talk, he could have gone and done laps in the pool, gone for a run in the hills, or even just hid out in his room pretending to be sleeping - all tactics he'd used before when he couldn't face something, usually after a tough mission, another near brush with death, or something … something like Zoe.
But he had called Jack. Giving himself a minute, he decided that he wanted Jack to know all of it. If anything could keep something like what happened between Walsh and Oversight from happening to them, it was making sure there were no secrets, making sure they respected each other enough to be honest.
He tilted his head in the direction of the deck. "Grab us a couple of beers, wouldja?"
Jack gave him kind of a funny look, but headed toward the fridge. Mac went out onto the deck, taking his phone out of his pocket. When Jack joined him a few minutes later, Mac was just finishing a call. "Yeah, that's perfect. No, I've got the app. I'll meet the driver at the door." He hung up and looked up at Jack who was standing there, sort of studying him. "What?"
"Whatcha doin' kid?"
"Ordering us pizza. It's getting late," Mac said matter-of-factly, slipping his phone back into his jeans pocket and squatting down on the deck to start their fire.
Jack sat down near Mac, in one of the chairs. He wasn't injured by any stretch of the imagination, but now that he'd slowed down a little some soreness from knocking those cartel guys around, crashing the the truck, and, oh yeah, riding on horseback for a long damned while for the first time in a couple decades was starting to creep in. He thought if he got down on the floor, he'd never get back up.
Mac reached out a hand, crooking his fingers slightly. Jack chuckled and passed Mac a beer. Mac reached into his pocket for his knife. "Sonofabitch," he grumbled. He half-turned and looked apologetically at Jack. "I forgot … I lost the knife you gave me … the cartel guys took it and …"
Jack took the beer back from Mac and popped the top off, using the arm of the Adirondack chair for leverage. "Birthday's comin' up, ain't it? I'll get you another one. Until then, improvise."
Mac grinned and took a swig of the beer. Jesus, it really was good to be home, to be doing something normal after the last day and a half. And nothing was more normal than having a beer with Jack out here as the dark crept over the city.
Mac returned his attention to the fire. Jack studied his profile in silence. There was a lot going on in those blue eyes, but, there was none of the strange tension that had been in Mac's posture since he caught up with him at that trailhead almost two days ago.
"Am I gonna be eatin' that pizza all by myself, or you really gonna join me?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, but still worried enough that it wasn't an entirely successful effort.
"You kidding? I'm starving." Jack made his skeptical face, so Mac gave him a real honest look for a minute. "Dude, Oversight had me in my head enough over the years to miss a lot of meals. Not anymore. Seriously. I will fight you for my half," Mac replied, making every effort to just be himself, even taking another drink of beer, before giving a frustrated huff at the reluctant fire.
He got up, putting the beer on the table near Jack and went inside to grab his torch, which was maybe cheating, but it was also fun, and totally got the job done. He needed to walk around for a minute anyway.
When he came back out, he marked the way Jack's eyes were following him. "Jack, I'm okay. I mean, not really …" He sat down cross legged next to the fire and started using the poker to move around the smoldering pile. It was easier with his back to Jack again. "Some of the things he said … I'm still having a hard time with, but it's … It's better now that I know. I always wondered if it would be, you know?"
Jack cleared his throat. Mac's voice was a little tight, but he actually sounded reasonably okay. Jack wanted to believe it, but he wasn't sure if he did. "Actually, I really don't, bud. I can't even imagine what you're going through. What …" he stopped. He shouldn't ask.
"He never answered me when I asked him why he'd steered me into the life."
Mac glanced back over his shoulder, away from his task.
"He told me he left to protect me. I pushed back about it," he told his partner, his voice matter of fact. "Then he said, because I looked like her, looking at me made him angry, and that was why he really left."
"That son of a …"
"No, it's good, Jack. Because that's such a bullshit answer. When he said it, it hurt, of course it did, I think that's why he said it. Just another one of his tests. At least now I know what kind of person …"
Mac trailed off and turned back toward the fire, just in time to catch a facefull of smoke, which he knew instinctively was going to suck beyond the telling of it, even before the inevitable fit of coughing started.
Jack raised an eyebrow when Mac looked at him again. Mac shook his head and poked at the fire a little more. He thought it was probably going to catch now, so he moved back and sat in the chair next to Jack. "Quit looking at me like that, man. I'm good."
Jack shook his head. "I'd like to pretend to believe you, kid, but I'm having a hard time buying it. Mentally or otherwise. As far as the stuff with your father …"
"There's nothing to be done for that, Jack. But … Nothing, nevermind."
Jack frowned at him for a minute. "Okay," he hedged. "How about the 'otherwise' then? You bring home anything for your respiratory misery?"
Mac shook his head. "I kinda wish I had though."
Jack frowned. "No reason you couldn't give the doc a call and …"
Mac actually smiled, sort of apologetically, at Jack. "I kinda can't. I quit, remember? No infirmary for me. Actually … no health insurance … no paycheck …" He trailed off for a minute then started laughing.
"What's so funny about no means of support and the lack of an ability to just turn around and get yourself some decent cough medicine, if you don't mind my asking?"
Jack asked, trying to sound disapproving, but starting to pick up on the genuine amusement in Mac's voice.
"Not exactly funny I guess … Just … For the first time … I was gonna say since I enlisted, but really maybe for the first time in my life … I'm gonna wake up tomorrow and no one's gonna order me to go somewhere or do something. No one's gonna turn a simple conversation into a pass fail test." His face grew serious. "No one is going to look at me as an experiment, trying to control the variables of my life in the hopes of producing some outcome I haven't been consulted about."
"Jesus," Jack breathed. "That's why you walked isn't it?" Mac turned to look at him fully, a questioning expression on his face. "Not that he left, or even his bullshit about being angry because you look like your mom … It's what he said about … how the hell did he put it … nudging you in the right direction … pairing us up … all that …"
"Like a rat in a maze … just hitting that button hoping it's for food and not the one that'll trigger high voltage … Yeah." The reply was quiet, full of pain, and still laced with a fair amount of real anger.
Jack hadn't even thought of that. For a guy who liked control as much as Mac did, finding out someone had been pulling strings like that … that had to feel like … well, probably a lot like he'd felt being held captive by Murdoc last year. And walking away from it had to feel a little something like escape.
"I'm not going to be some project of his," Mac said, his voice still hard. "I think … I think I always was." He sighed. "And I thought finding him would answer some questions, but I don't believe anything he said now … all I have is more questions."
Jack frowned. "If he wasn't going to tell you anything real … why would he have led you to him?"
Mac had forgotten Jack didn't know that part yet. "He didn't. It was Matty."
"What!?" Mac just nodded. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I am." He sighed suddenly, and to Jack, it sounded a little ragged. "The worst part is I still don't know what all those little clues really meant, what she really knows … And now … I'm not even sure he didn't want to be found … the timing just feels too convenient … and it almost convinced me to stay … and …"
"What do you mean by convenient?" Jack edged forward in his seat.
"I don't know if I even know," Mac said with a frustrated sigh. "But he said lots of little things … had so many pat, prepared, evasive answers … And he sort of made it clear that this was another test … and he was so pleased, so approving when I did what he wanted and so cold, so disappointed when I didn't … I felt about nine years old again … I don't trust him Jack. And I still …"
Mac's phone chimed then and he got up, fishing out his wallet as he headed for the front door. Jack's immediate urge was to follow, but he thought helicopter parent wasn't what Mac wanted or needed right now. He needed his partner, his sounding board, the guy he'd go so far as to pretending was there if they were separated on a mission.
Mac came back a couple of minutes later, this time carrying the rest of the six pack that had been in his fridge in one hand, along with two large pizzas balanced against his side. He let the top one slide into Jack's waiting hands. "Had 'em run that one through the barnyard for you." He grinned at Jack's pleased smile. "By which I mean it's mostly covered with one animal - in all its very best forms."
"Sure, Mac," Jack laughed. "Some magical animal." He fished out a perfectly greasy slice, appreciating the ham, bacon, and sausage scattering the top. "Hey, no, there's some cow on here, too; I see meatballs."
Mac laughed, putting down the six pack and his own pizza box on the floor boards, with a slight wince.
"You really okay, man? I didn't exactly get the full rundown on what happened while you were off with Oversight."
Mac grabbed a civilized slice of pizza (cheese, just cheese, like seriously what was wrong with people?) and a fresh beer, which he popped open with the bottle opener he'd retrieved from his junk drawer. He eased back in the chair.
"I've got a couple cracked ribs," he shrugged. Taking in Jack's immediate self-recrimination he hurried to add, "Not new, probably happened either in Puerto Rico or Pakistan. And before you freak out and start doing the helicopter dad thing I can tell is killing you to keep under wraps, I had X-rays today and I'm okay."
Jack chewed his lip. "Helluva time to ditch your health insurance, kid."
Mac laughed again before cramming several satisfying bites of pizza in his mouth and chasing them with beer. "While we're on the subject," Mac said, actually smoothly changing it as he finished his slice, "You're too damned old to be without yours. Insurance, I mean. So don't go quitting your job on my account. I can tell what your thinking, Jack. Don't pretend you're not."
Jack, who was mildly disconcerted by the fact that Mac was already wolfing down his second slice of his usual boring cheese pizza and he was still picking at his first, forced himself to take a bite, chew, swallow, and take a drink of beer, before he answered.
"I guess maybe it crossed my mind," he admitted. "Finding out he screwed with your life, and that he did it to mine too, and now you're done with Phoenix, and Matty led you to your dad, and …"
"It's a lot," Mac finished his slice, the uncharacteristically wiped his hands on his pants. "But I didn't tell you guys I was going to talk to Matty about everything for the same reason I'm bringing this up now …"
He sighed, coughed into the crook of his elbow, wishing like hell he'd just quit when he'd found Oversight, instead of getting shoved around, shot at, and winding up with a chest full of caustic smoke to add to the sore ribs he'd been pretty sure were a little busted even before the doc insisted on a chest X-ray earlier. And wishing even more that he could unhear everything Oversight had said, unthink all the worrying little things tying themselves into knots in his head, like the Christmas lights all tangled in his attic after hastily putting them away after Cage had been shot and he and Jack had once again faced the Ghost.
"Go on, kid," Jack prompted quietly, starting to see some cracks in Mac's 'I'm okay' facade.
Mac took a slow careful breath. "I'm making an emotional … snap … spur of the moment decision. And I don't want to screw up your lives. You're loyal to a fault, Jack. And I know …" his voice cracked a little then and he cleared his throat like it was just the effects of the smoke, but blinking quickly several times after made that a little harder to sell. "I know you'd do anything for me."
"Damn right I would, kid." Jack said with a firm nod, taking a swig if beer to momentarily cover his own emotional response to Mac's entirely truthful, but vulnerable statement.
"I'm also thinking …" He stopped. He couldn't ask that of Jack … not of anyone.
"Go ahead, Mac. I know you were gonna ask me somethin' so go ahead and ask. You let your ole buddy Jack decide if it's too much for him."
Mac's eyebrow climbed. "How do you know that's what I'm thinking?"
Jack slid his chair around, close enough to reach out and put a hand in Mac's shoulder. "How long have we known each other, Mac? Seven years, now?"
Mac nodded. "Something like that."
"I think maybe I've gotten to know you a little bit. Not that you made that easy."
Mac nodded. He knew just how hard edged he'd been back then, distant, cool, certain the only people worth knowing thought the same way he did, we smart like he was. Jesus, he'd been an awful lot like his father back then, despite all his grandfather's lessons that tried to help him see it.
"I was a lot like him then," Mac said in a low voice, with an almost horrified sense of realization in it. "I still am sometimes."
"No, no you're not," Jack said almost harshly, giving Mac's shoulder a squeeze. "I said what I said in Mexico mostly cause I knew it would get you talking to him. I thought you were finally gonna get some answers, kid. I'm sorry."
Mac found himself clenching his jaw so tightly his teeth hurt. "No, you were right. If I don't see it, I can't change it. And I want to change it. I don't want to be like that," he said, and it was almost a ragged sigh.
"You've changed a lot since I met ya, bud. Maybe that's why I can read you so well. I learned this language right along with ya."
Mac looked away from Jack, who still had a hand on his shoulder, to stare into the fire until that alone could explain the burning watery feeling in his eyes. Another squeeze of his shoulder made him turn back to Jack. "I owe you, you know."
"Mac, you don't owe me a damned thing. It's been my privilege to be your Overwatch and I feel I need to point out that you've saved my ass at least as many times as I …"
Mac shook his head, almost looking away again. "Not that." His lips pressed together until they lost their color, then he looked at Jack again.
"You and Al, I owe both of you." He swallowed hard. "You … you both saw through all my bullshit, all my … damage … and you saw what was good about me …"
His breath hitched then but there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it, and now that he'd seen the truth of it, he had to say it.
"You made me want to see it, too. Made me want to be a better man."
A single tear slipped down his cheek then, but he ignored it.
"That's what fathers are supposed to do. And I'm grateful I had you both. That I still have you."
He'd hinted at meaning that earlier at Phoenix, but now he'd said it explicitly. And while it sort of made him want to cry in earnest, it also felt like a knot inside him had loosened and he could breathe properly again.
"Aw, hell, Mac," Jack almost whispered. He got to his feet, pulling Mac with him, and wrapped him in what Boze referred to as a full on Delta Dalton Bear Hug. "That's been a hell of a privilege, too, kid. Even more than tryin' to keep your skinny ass alive."
Mac had been hugging him back, trying not to cry, and that was exactly what he needed. He snickered a little and moved to pull away, but suddenly Jack just squeezed him harder, and Mac could tell Jack was struggling with his own emotions.
"Ow, hey, cracked ribs, remember? They're gonna revoke your Helicopter Parent card if you crush me into needing a trip to the hospital, dude."
Jack let him go, trying to decide if he'd actually hurt Mac or if the kid was just breaking the moment before they were both sobbing like a couple middle schoolers. "Sorry kid," he said with a warm smile when he'd decided it was the latter.
Mac sat back down, moved to pick up his beer, then decided against it. "Thank you, Jack. For all of it," he said in much the same tone he'd spoken to Matty earlier.
"I'm just gonna keep doin' to kid. It's not just a job."
"It's an adventure?" Mac joked, riffing off an old Navy recruitment slogan he'd seen on a poster that belonged to his grandfather, who had said a friend of his had it framed as a joke, but he'd never gone on to explain it.
"It sure as Hell is that, Mac." Jack managed to chuckle then.
Mac was a better man, a better all around person than he had any right to be, Jack thought, and the more he learned about Mac's strange past, the more he thought so. He didn't know how much he, or even Alfred Pena, really had to do with that, but even if it was only a little, he was a damned lucky man, and as proud as any dad should be of a young man like Mac. That the kid's own father didn't seem able to see it bothered him to no end. It made him curious, too.
"So in the spirit of continuing that adventure … what was it you wanted to ask me … about work?"
Mac's eyes widened in surprise. He thought he'd steered them gracefully away from that unintentional slip of the tongue.
"Thought I forgot, didntcha?"
Mac gave him a slight sideways smile. "I was hoping." He paused. "This isn't something I should … This is so much worse than dragging you all over the planet looking for him …"
Jack punched him lightly on the arm. "Am I gonna have to crack a few more of your ribs huggin you before you figure out that was never a problem, never a burden, and the only time I ever had an issue was when you took off without me and almost got your skinny butt killed twice in one week?"
Mac practically flinched at the mention of his fruitless trip to Paris, his abduction by Murdoc, and even more at the memory of the drug-addled dreams he'd had afterward of Murdoc killing Jack before he'd even had a chance to apologize for the things he'd said in Paris. But he just nodded. "I know, but … I need to keep looking at the clues Matty sent me, to keep investigating my father …"
"Investigating?" Jack asked, feeling even slower on the uptake today than Mac usually unintentionally made him feel. "What for? You found him."
"But I don't know why he really left, don't know why he manipulated my life and yours, don't know … well, this KX7, Jack … the video I saw … He said he never tested it on anyone, that it was all Walsh but … even though he was paging through those files fast … there was so much data there … I don't believe him." Jack's jaw dropped a little, but Mac went on. "And compounds like that don't get their designations randomly. If there's a KX7, there was probably a one through six too."
Mac shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to get the image of that unwilling test subject, that murder victim, out of his head. He folded his arms, gripping his elbows, trying to also shake the idea that in his own life, everything had always been a test with his father. Everything. And today was no different. It made him feel like an unwilling subject, too.
He shivered, despite the warmth of the evening, despite the fire.
He looked Jack in the eye again and said simply, "I need to know."
He paused again.
"And I was going to ask if you'd help me." He hurried on. "I don't expect you to violate security or anything but …"
"I gotchu, kid. Always. If you want me to keep an eye on him, I will." Mac nodded, his gratitude apparent even though he was quiet, staring into the fire again. "Um … Matty asked me to let her know you were okay, but I didn't wanna call her unless …"
"They know I'm home. I'm sure of it."
Jack frowned.
"Remember how fast they had the street cam footage of the Ghost on Christmas?"
Jack frowned more deeply, but nodded. "The day you … well, when … you know …"
"The day Murdoc kidnapped and tortured me for information about his kid and that I still have nightmares about even though I got out before he'd even gotten creative?" Jack flinched. "Didn't seem to bother my father to bring that up repeatedly, Jack. It's okay."
"Okay, yeah. That day," he said, still obviously uncomfortable. "I made the call and they were here so fast it was almost surreal. I mean, they weren't fast enough cuz the trail was already cold and I was sure you were …"
"Hey, pal, you did your best and the minute you knew where I was you were right there, you helped me get home." This time Mac reached out and patted Jack on the back. "Anyway, I've felt watched for a long time. Maybe that's why that hit man who followed me to Paris almost got the drop on me, hell maybe it's even why Murdoc's guys got a piece of me so easily that day. But now I know it wasn't just a feeling. He's been watching me."
"That sounds kinda paranoid, bud."
"He knew I got beat up in that bank, Jack. He knew I got the crap kicked out of me in Pakistan too. Even though neither of us wrote the wall incident into our reports. And that street cam is new. Maybe eight months old." He sighed. "But, I'll give her a call."
"Matty Webber is a hard person to know but …"
"She's one of the good guys," Mac concluded.
He took out his phone and then stepped inside to call Matty and let Bozer know he was okay too. Boze has just texted him once this evening that he'd come home if Mac needed him but he didn't want to bother him if he needed space. Mac assumed that meant he and Leanna had plans but Bozer would never leave him hanging.
He was closing the porch door when Jack heard, "Hey, Matty … No, no I'm fine. Jack's here …"
Jack got up and picked up their pizzas, and the remainder of the six pack, and brought it all inside. He'd just gotten everything put in the fridge when Mac emerged from his room.
"Hey, man," he started, voice sounding a little strained again. "I think I'm gonna grab another shower. I still smell like smoke. Then I might just crash. I've got a lot to sleep on, you know?"
Jack eyed him speculatively. "Mind if I crash too? On your couch, I mean? Probably shouldn't drink and drive."
Mac smiled. It was tired, and it was a little sad, but it also said that he appreciated Jack's offer that he not be here alone despite the fact that the beer and a half Jack had wasn't enough to even give him a buzz, say nothing about putting him anywhere near the legal limit. "Sure, pal."
Mac moved to head into his bathroom. Then he turned back. He was probably going to have a little private cry in the shower to bleed off some of the residual stress and emotion anyway. "I know we've discussed how we don't say this stuff but … Thanks again. I meant what I said about you and Al. I love you, man.
Jack couldn't let Mac get too far into his own head, even if those words were pretty great to hear. Giving the impression his best shot, he tossed back the ubiquitous Star Wars quote. "I know."
Mac was almost surprised into laughing. "I thought we agreed you were the Wookiee?"
"I am a man of many talents." Then he grinned and did his best Chewbacca call. "That happens to be Wookiee for the feeling is mutual, bud."
Mac grinned and went to shower. When he came out, no longer feeling like going to bed and pretending to sleep, he headed back into the living room to ask Jack if he wanted to watch The Holy Trilogy, but found that Jack had dozed off on the couch. He quietly found the remotes and cued the movie up on his Amazon video app, careful to keep the volume low.
He felt like tonight he could really relate to Luke. He'd found his father, but it was so different, so much more painful than he'd expected. And like Luke when the Empire had razed Uncle Owen's farm, everything he'd ever known, his livelihood, was gone, in a way.
But also like Luke, Mac had good friends, people who were his family more surely than anyone he might share genes with. He also didn't have to run away somewhere or eke out an existence haphazardly. He had his home, money to live on from his mother and grandfather that he'd saved for a rainy day, and by some miracle, even though he'd quit his job, he still had his partner, the world's best helicopter parent and faithful friend, Jack Wyatt Dalton. Which was pretty great, even though his snoring made it hard to hear the movie.
He knew only one thing with any certainty right now. That his future was uncertain. But he had to try to find out the truth, even though he thought it was statistically unlikely he would accomplish his goal.
He sat contemplating that as the room grew darker, until all the light that was left was the flickering bluish one cast by the television. Then a favorite moment came up on the screen, just as Mac was starting to really brood about the likelihood of him ever having anything but more questions as it related to his father.
Han Solo said it, but Mac would have sworn it was spoken in Jack's voice.
"Never tell me the odds."
As Mac's own eyes drifted closed while the movie played on, he found he felt more relaxed, better than he had in a long time.
Sure, he still had questions, suspicions.
But he would find answers.
One way or another.
And he wouldn't have to do it alone.