Title: I Come to You in Pieces
Series: And the World Spins Madly On
Author: dragonfly
Category: emotional h/c, drama, depression, co-dependency
Warning: none
Summary: Second story in series. MacGyver sets out in search of his home. Post 4x13.
A/N: I don't own MacGyver or any of the characters from the show. I needed this and figured maybe MacGyver did, too - deep down where he wouldn't let people see. Beginning Lyrics and Title from Pieces, by Red. Ending lyrics from World Spins Madly On, by The Weepies.
~*~M~*~
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard
Thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way...
He knew it was a bad idea even as he got on the plane, the train, the buses and walked for miles through the desert heat. Even as his head and body ached from exhaustion, and his heart ached for reasons that were too many to count, he moved forward. He moved towards a destination that he may never find.
Once released from medical and reinstated to the Phoenix, MacGyver couldn't bear the uncertainty any longer. He had to know, to see for himself. His entire world had crumbled; piece by piece the remains had been tossed about, blown up, scattered. But he knew that if this...this one thing remained, then he could rebuild around it, around its unwavering truth.
It took him just over four days. He might have found him sooner with Riley's help, but he had set out alone; not wanting to risk anyone else's lives or careers. He'd been more careful not to leave any trails to follow this time.
Through binoculars from a ridge tucked away unseen, MacGyver watched as he reviewed a map laid out across the Humvee's hood. He looked older, harder, the crows feet around his eyes deeper, but he was real and alive.
"Jack."
Even as his vision blurred and something loosened inside of his chest, MacGyver ached to get closer. But he knew it wasn't possible, and felt foolish for even getting as close as he had. At least now he knew, had seen with his own eyes that Jack was still alive. He had been dark for months, which happened from time to time, but after everything that had happened at the Phoenix, with his father, his aunt, his team... MacGyver just had to know that his center remained.
He watched Jack with his new team for as long as he dared, careful to remain out of sight. He wondered if they knew how much Jack loved Bruce Willis. He wondered if they could communicate without words. He wondered if they needed Jack as much as he did right now.
~*~M~*~
After finally, reluctantly, prying himself away, MacGyver was walking through a small street market a short time later when a hand grabbed him from the shadows and pulled him into a dilapidated building.
"Let's see who our peeping Tom is, huh fellas?" a hard, but familiar voice said as MacGyver's shemagh was ripped off his head. There was a shocked silence, then, "Mac?"
MacGyver suddenly found himself staring into the stunned eyes of his former Overwatch. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Panicking, he tried to pull away, to leave–Jack wasn't supposed to have see him, but strong hands held him in place.
"Mac? What's wrong?" Jack stepped closer, gripping his arm harder."Is Riley okay?"
Tears in his eyes, swallowing hard, MacGyver nodded. With so many emotions rushing through him, it was all he could manage. He really felt foolish now; a grown man running to his...his...Jack when he'd become grief-stricken and lost.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let's slow it down." Jack's voice became infinitely softer, almost immediately losing the sharp edges. "Come on, now, hoss, you know the drill." He took deep breath as an example, encouraging MacGyver to do the same.
MacGyver didn't notice when he had started to hyperventilate, or even when, exactly, he had ended up in Jack's arms. But face buried in his shoulder, MacGyver held onto him as if his life depended on it. Darkness pressed in on the edges of his awareness, of his being. It had been for months, years if he were being honest, but Jack's voice and solid warmth started to push it away, and MacGyver could finally breathe. Home. This was home. He was finally home.
"Not gonna lie, as good as it is to see you," Jack admitted, squeezing the back of his neck, "you're really freakin' me out here, kid."
Pulling away, MacGyver ducked his head and quickly wiped at his face. At some point the room had emptied, leaving only the two of them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–I–" Shaking his head, he started for the door. He couldn't believe he had risked Jack's life and mission. He couldn't believe he had been so selfish.
"Not so fast." Jack hooked a hand under his arm and pulled him back. "I need you to start talkin,' brother," he warned gently, worry dark in his eyes, "or I'm gonna start makin' calls."
Blue eyes widening, MacGyver began to panic again. What a mess he had gotten himself into. The team was already watching him for signs of a break since using the DMT, since...everything. And maybe they had good reason, considering where he was standing. But it was just, nothing made sense anymore, and Jack...MacGyver gave him a beseeching look when he didn't know where, or even how, to start.
Worried frown deepening, Jack led him over to the only crate that didn't look like it would collapse under his weight and lowered him onto it. Without a word, he ran his fingers through MacGyver's hair, then tilted his chin up so he could get a good look at his eyes.
He was checking for injuries.
Eyes burning, throat tight, MacGyver pulled his chin out of Jack's grasp. He didn't want him to see just how badly he was hurting. He didn't want him to see just how much he needed him to care. But when he moved to stand, Jack's hands gently held him in place.
"I'm gettin' some real mixed signals here, pal. You come all this way to see me, but–"
"I-I shouldn't be here." MacGyver rubbed a hand over his thigh nervously. He tried to stand again–
Holding him still, "While I don't disagree," Jack returned softly, "you're here now, so you might as well get comfy and let ole Jack check you over." He continued his inspection down both of MacGyver's arms, then turned each of his hands over, checking his palms and fingers. He was taking his time, looking for more than fresh injuries and the light bruising he must have noticed on his knuckles. He was looking for what MacGyver wouldn't say, even when he found the words.
As MacGyver soaked in the familiarity of it all, he felt the tension in his body start to ease. How many times had he trusted, without hesitation, these calloused hands to keep him safe, to keep him alive, to ease his hurts? It felt like a lifetime had passed since he'd last seen Jack, and since someone else had really seen him. He had felt like a ship without a safe harbor for so long...
MacGyver blinked back the fresh tears that threatened to fall. Too much bad had happened, too much without his shield and compass.
Crouched in front of him, Jack cast him a concerned look before he continued his inspection. MacGyver managed to hold back the flinches when Jack reached still sensitive spots from the numerous fights and explosions he had been in recently...until he got to his ribs. Grunting, by reflex, he pushed Jack's hand away. And his shirt was pulled up before he even registered Jack had reached for it.
"M' fine."
Jack gently palpated the injury and certainly noticed that most of MacGyver's torso was a bruise. "This doesn't look like "fine," amigo."
"How much longer?" MacGyver hated how desperate, how needy, he sounded. By the crushed look on Jack's
face, he understood that he wasn't asking if he was almost done checking him over.
Leaning in, Jack palmed the side of MacGyver's face. "Talk to me, kid. I'm here. I'm right here."
His unwavering truth. His foundation. His home. MacGyver's face twisted with more than one emotion. It took everything he had not to start crying again. All of his walls were non-existent around Jack, and he had been keeping a lot behind them.
"What happened, Mac?"
"I–" He didn't know where to start. "I just–"
"Come 'ere."
Taking a trembling breath that he felt to his bones, MacGyver let Jack tug him back into his arms. "I just needed to make sure you were okay." His voice was as shaky as the rest of him. "I thought I stayed far enough away."
"Don't worry about it none. These boys won't say anything."
"I'm putting you in danger."
"Danger's my middle name, brother."
There was a silent beat. "I thought it was 'Careful'."
Jack chuckled against him. "Damn, I've missed you, son. I'm not hurting you, am I?"
MacGyver shook his head. His injuries were smarting a little, but he didn't want Jack to let go. He needed this. He had needed it for so long. He just wanted to go back, rewind to a time where Jack was still at his side. How different might things have been...
Maybe it was impossible to say, but MacGyver knew one thing; he never would have felt so lost, so alone over the past few years if Jack hadn't left. Maybe he was too dependent on him. Maybe that's just how extraordinary their bond was.
Jack ran a hand up his back. "Aren't they feeding you at home? Feels like I could snap you like a twig."
"I shouldn't be here."
"None of us should be here, hoss."
He really should let go. He really should leave.
"Take as long as you need." Jack kept his arms around him as if it were the most natural thing. "You gonna tell me why your ribs look like you went ten rounds with Mike Tyson?"
"It–it's a really long story."
"You're all okay, though?"
"Yeah." The team, at least. Letting out a heavy sigh, MacGyver rest his chin on Jack's shoulder. Neither said anything for a few moments. "I could help you find him," he offered softly, fully aware that he was still in Jack's arms and in no hurry to extract himself. He felt whole. He felt...peace. He felt safe.
"I need you home safe, Mac."
"I'm safe here." I'm home here. "Where you go, I go," he repeated the words that Jack had said to him on more than one occasion. He felt Jack hesitate, but MacGyver's hope was short-lived.
"I'll be home soon, Mac, I swear. We're getting close."
Chin trembling, MacGyver clenched his jaw and nodded. He couldn't make this harder on Jack. He had to stay focused on the mission. He was never supposed to have known he was even there.
Jack's radio crackled. "Dalton...sorry, man, we gotta move."
MacGyver didn't mean to, but held on tighter.
Jack cursed and tightened his own hold. "We're gonna talk about this when I get home," he promised. "And I am coming home, Mac. I swear."
Throat too tight to speak, MacGyver nodded. Taking another unsteady breath, he closed his eyes as Jack pulled away, leaving him cold and adrift once more. He kept his eyes closed as Jack pressed their foreheads together, unable to bear watching him leave again.
"You keep on fightin,' hoss. You promise me. I need to know you'll be waiting for me when I get out of this hell hole." There was a slight tremor to Jack's voice. "I need to know you're still out there fightin', man."
A callous thumb brushed across MacGyver's cheek, and he had to swallow down everything he really wanted to say before he could speak. "Promise."
"Thata boy." There was a feather kiss on the top of his head, a squeeze of his shoulder, more than a moment of hesitation... "Mac–"
"Go."
And then he was gone.
If not for the tears on his cheeks and Jack's lingering, comforting scent, MacGyver might have thought it had been a dream. He could have gone with him. Jack was about to offer a way to make it happen. But they both knew what neither would admit; MacGyver, in his state, would just have been a distraction to not only Jack, but to the entire team. And the last place he should be, was on a manhunt.
Releasing a breath, MacGyver leaned forward and washed both hands down his face.
He was alone again.
But...at least he found what he had come for.
The air had cooled considerably by the time he finally stood. The sun was starting to lower in the sky and he needed to get out of the area before dark. He needed to...to keep fighting. He needed to rebuild.
Fixing the shemagh over his head, MacGyver stepped back out into the street.
He needed to keep his promise.
"The night is here and the day is gone
And the world spins madly on..."