so THAT took me way longer than i wanted. can you guess i went to a wedding and then ran smack into our first quiz week in my post-grad program. BIG YIKES. anyway. thanks for sticking around and i hope i navigated this chapter okay. things are a little different and it was odd to approach this reunion from the inside of someone's head - we didn't have anything of what they were THINKING when riley and jack saw each other again. anyways. please enjoy, and let me know what you're thinking! the pieces are all coming together...
(also, we're just gonna all agree to pretend that the timeline on this makes sense okay? thank you. i made a few miscalculations.)
It's a hot day in Rio de Janeiro, and the odd shack where Rasmussen had elected to set up shop is not especially well air conditioned – which is to say, not air conditioned at all. Jack isn't feeling too great, restless in the heat and the stagnant situation he and Mac find themselves in, unable to do anything until Matty arrives with Riley. He still can't believe she was able to convince James to let them bring the girl in – he'd been sure it was a no-go from the beginning, but it was a chance he had to throw out there. If there was even the faintest hope that the Director would go for it, she seemed like their best option to pull through with a success on this mission.
If Jack is antsy, though, that's nothing compared to how Mac is fairing at the moment. He's taken to pacing the length of the run down building, fingers tapping an erratic beat against his thigh, and every time he reaches the far wall, he stops, looking around and muttering silently to himself, mouth moving around quick little words Jack can't for the life of him make out. It's honestly headache inducing to watch, the way he just can't seem to still. Mac is a perpetual motion machine on a desk that someone set off and then left the room, abandoning his nerves to clack loudly against each other, jarring and abrupt and never ceasing.
"She's gonna be here soon," Jack says from the desk at the chair where he'd deposited himself after fifteen minutes watching Mac wear a hole in the old floor. "Matty is gonna be here soon with Riley in tow and we're gonna be out of here so fast you won't hardly believe it, I'm telling you."
The sound of Mac's footsteps still into silence on the percussive floor and Jack watches him with concerned eyes as he stops next to a random, unadorned patch of wall. It's unclear if it's something Jack said or a thought that's darted, like his thoughts generally seem to, a hundred and thirty miles an hour through Mac's brain, that's stopped him. The answer makes itself known after a few moments when the kid speaks, almost too quietly for Jack to hear him.
"I shouldn't have yelled at him." Mac's index finger is scraping lightly over the cracked wall and his eyes are focused somewhere behind Jack's head. "I'm gonna hear about that in review tonight, I know there's gonna be one."
This is not the first time Jack has heard Mac offhandedly mention 'review'. As far as he can tell, it sounds like some kind of addendum to an after-action, a meeting to reflect on the events of a mission, what was done and why and how it could've gone differently, for better or worse. It sounds like a useful tool, if done right, though Jack isn't quite sure that, given his experiences thus far, he really trusts how James goes about it to be particularly productive.
He doesn't know exactly what happens in one of those meetings, as he has yet to be called in for one himself. Given the general turnover and the specific brevity of the employment of Mac's partners before him, Jack can see why. Why bother, really, if he's not likely to last six months, investing in his development? Now that his tenure has lasted for longer than it would seem anyone was expecting it to, Jack is sure his number will come up soon, and he'll get a look at this 'review' process up close and personal.
In the meantime, it isn't helping anything or anyone, least of all Mac himself, that he seems to have locked onto something new to panic about.
"I'm sure it'll be fine," Jack says, trying to sound reassuringly blasé. "Shit happens, y'know, can't be the first time anyone's ever yelled at the guy on a stressful mission."
"It was unprofessional," Mac mutters, and Jack scoffs quietly.
"The Director got on you about the state of your hair during a briefing today, kid, that was unprofessional."
"He's got high standards."
"Right." Especially when it comes to you, Jack adds silently.
It doesn't seem to have helped. If anything, their little exchange has made Mac more nervous, though he doesn't resume the pacing he'd been doing before. Instead he leans against the wall, chewing on his lower lip and frowning at nothing identifiable as far as Jack can tell. It's a situation Jack does not enjoy finding himself in. Not their general circumstances, though those were obviously fairly unpleasant on a number of levels, but specifically knowing that Mac is having such a bad time it's plainly visible on his face and having absolutely nothing he can do about it.
Jack helps. It's an intrinsic component of his personality that's been present in him since he was a child. He remembers his mother looking at him with glowing, mirth-filled eyes and calling him 'my little assistant' when he got covered in flour up to his elbows trying to lend a hand making biscuits, he remembers countless nights sitting up with his younger sister and the math homework that had been known to frustrate her to tears, spinning around the living room with his older sister for hours when she had her first high school dance. It's a part of him, as much as his eye color and his accent are, and it had only been reinforced through his time with EOD, being intrusted with the greatest weight a person can be – someone else's life.
Months on end spent driving around a sand-filled warzone with a bright young person trained in his sights, knowing that he was frequently the only thing that stood between some prodigy of a bomb tech and a premature, violent death served to intensify the existing feelings of stewardship Jack often felt for those around him, and he's felt it around Mac, too. From day one, he'd known more strongly than he knew just about anything else that no matter what, Mac's life was his number one priority. Somewhere along the line, Mac's life had expanded from just his continued ability to keep living to include his general state as well – physical and emotional. His partner, his young, reckless, beyond-intelligent and beyond-wary partner, is in acute distress at the moment, and Jack doesn't know what to do about it. But he can't just do nothing, so with cracking knees and a hesitation that almost holds him there, he rises from his chair and takes a hesitant step over towards where Mac stands by the wall.
"It's gonna be fine," he says, keeping his voice steady and quiet, while reaching out with one hand. It's barely landed on the back of Mac's shoulder nearest to him when Jack realizes his mistake.
The kid's entire body has seized up under his palm, and he's stopped breathing completely at the unexpected touch. It takes a few moments for it to stutter into starting again, and Jack tries to be casual about the odd flinch, not wanting to draw attention to the highly disproportionate response to a friendly hand on the shoulder, and gives it a pause before dropping the contact and stepping back. Mac's cheeks have gone slightly pink, and he won't look Jack in the eye, obviously embarrassed by what's just happened. It reminds him, in a way, of the briefing that morning, how Mac had refused to look at him basically the entire time, especially during the odd almost-argument when he'd accidentally referred to the Director as 'dad'.
"It's gonna be fine," Jack repeats like nothing had happened. He's made the split second decision not to acknowledge it, and he hopes it was the right call. "Matty is gonna bring Riley and we're gonna stop this cyber-bomb thing, whatever it is, and then we're gonna go home and everything's gonna keep going like normal, okay? You'll have your review, and it might suck, but it won't be the end of the world."
The corner of Mac's mouth twitches a little.
"Yeah," he says, voice stiff and a little odd. "You're right. Not the end of the world."
Jack is left with the odd, formless suspicion that he's somehow said the wrong thing, put his foot in it without any idea what 'it' was. Silence extends between them, awkward and arid and Jack doesn't know if he should say something or leave it be. Luckily, Mac makes the decision for him, though it doesn't do much to alleviate the awkward tension.
"So, wait, how is it you know this hacker, exactly, the one Matty's flying down here with?"
"Riley," Jack supplies, and goes to sit back down. His temples throb in an abrupt headache, setting on quick and hard, beating at the inside of his skull. He snags a bottle of water out of his bag and cracks off the cap, taking a swig. If he's lucky, it's a dehydration headache. If he's not lucky - and historically, Jack is a lot of things but lucky is not one of them - the headache has just begun. "She's… She was…" Simple and easy is probably the best bet. "Riley is my ex's daughter."
Mac's eyebrows about hit his hairline.
"I can't tell you what I thought you were going to say, but it definitely wasn't that." There's a hint of humor in the words, and when Jack looks over at him, Mac's smiling faintly. "How long has it been?"
"Long time," Jack answers shortly. He knows he has to be careful about this, about how to handle things when Riley gets here, what to say and not to say to Mac before that happens. Not just because of Riley herself, either. He already knows things there are about as screwed up as they could be, and he only hopes she's willing to look past her anger long enough to help them stop this e-bomb or whatever it is. Things with Mac, though… Things there are finally starting to feel a little easier, like he's summited the cliff and from here on out it's tough terrain but at least it's downhill. There's a good chance, though, that depending on how the next day goes, things might get frosty.
It doesn't escape Jack's attention, the fact that there is something deeply not right about the relationship between Mac and James. He's not exactly sure what, or how deep it goes, but something is wrong there, and Jack is keeping a microscope eye on it until he knows how much trouble Mac is in with his dad. This knowledge, that Mac might be in some unidentified, uncertain danger at home as well as in the field, means that Jack knows this situation with Riley and him? It has the potential to blow his partnership sky high.
If Mac asks more questions, about what happened and why Riley is so angry, the answers might drive him further away if Jack isn't careful. Then again, whatever he's likely to be drumming up inside his head is bound to be worse. Left between a rock and a hard place, Jack chooses the hard place, and keeps talking. He explains what had happened the night he got into that fight with Elwood, the one that was really the beginning of the end, how he was sure that had been the last straw for Riley, who'd never seemed to want him there to begin with. He left because he wanted to avoid making a hard thing even harder, for any of them, and it was just about the most difficult thing he'd ever had to do.
The explanation goes over about as well as he could've expected it too. There's a look on Mac's face like he doesn't entirely believe he's gotten the whole story, but neither does he push for it, nodding and accepting what Jack's told him. Taking a deep breath, Jack decides to take one more chance.
"I've missed her every day since," he says, and his heart gives an odd little off-beat pulse, squeezing hard and painful at the admission. He figures that piece of honesty wins him some amount of points at least, because Mac's weird expression has gone from suspicious to curious, and isn't anywhere near hostile. Jack'll take it. He only hopes things go as well with Riley.
Riley, who he hasn't spoken to since she was a child. Jack is anxious about seeing her again. He's kept tabs on her from afar, as unobtrusively as possible, hearing every now and then from Diane, who he'd tried as much as possible to end on good terms with. Aside from a few pictures here and there, he hasn't seen her, and he wonders what she looks like now, if she takes after her mother as strongly now as she had when she was little. It was less in the actual features of her face, though there was a resemblance there, and more in this look she got in her eye sometimes, when she felt she wasn't being listened to, or someone was trying to do something she thought was very stupid. Riley had been stubborn then, with a righteous streak a mile wide and just as deep, and Jack figures not much has changed there, given he's read her file. Well. Read what was left of her file after the black markers got at it.
It's not at all clear what she's going to think of him, how she's going to react to seeing him again in person. Jack wonders, absently flicking at a wrapper on the desk next to his hand, watching it flutter to the floor in a windmill of glittering silver and red, if she's still as angry as she'd been once upon a time, back when everything was a kind of complicated he had no experience with. If she is, he thinks, she's got a right to be. He just hopes he might be able to make at least some kind of amends, on this brief opportunity he's been handed to try and start fresh with her. There's a part of him that's guiltily thankful that he wasn't the one who had to go to the prison to get her himself, that Matty had taken care of that initial 'remember the man who picked you up from school and made you soup when you were sick and left when he screwed up with your real dad so bad you'd never be able to forgive him, he's not at all who he said he was' conversation. It wasn't fair of him to put that on her, but really, neither of them had much of a choice.
Hours pass uneventfully, with a strain of high-strung anticipation humming in the air. Jack catches a few hours of sleep, sitting upright in the chair by the desk, and directs his partner to do the same with a debatable degree of success. Mac at least spends maybe three hours with his head back and his eyes closed, breathing deep, and though Jack suspects he'd slept barely if at all, he'll still take it. It's better than nothing. Night cools the air somewhat, and Jack steps out for a bit, breathing deeply and looking up at the scattered stars. It's clear the constellations are different here than back home, either Los Angeles or Texas, but he's not quite good enough at celestial navigation to tell exactly how. Mac might know, and Jack half entertains the idea of dragging him out here to find out. He's in the chair, eyes closed, at least pretending to be asleep at the moment, though, so Jack resigns himself to being curious and tries to employ a deep breathing exercise while he watches the unfamiliar night sky.
The first sign of Riley's arrival the next morning comes in the sound of an engine hauling an exhausted car up the steep road to Rasmussen's shack-house. Jack gets up and walks outside, followed closely by Mac. He stands there leaning against the doorframe and tries not to look as anxious as he feels when the car pulls up and an officer of the Policia Federal gets out, opening the door behind her to allow Matty and Riley to exit. The first look Jack gets at Riley is over the top of the car when her head comes into view. Her hair is grown out long and held up in a bun only barely achieving its goal, and she's wearing sunglasses that obscure most of the top half of her face. Matty rounds the back of the car, walking over to them and barely snagging Jack's attention away from Riley for a moment before he looks back.
"Gentlemen," Matty says in what Jack suspects is an at least half-sarcastic greeting. "I see you managed not to burn the place down waiting for us."
"Barely," Jack jokes back, but his heart isn't in it. He's still watching Riley, who has now followed behind Matty to stand next to her, arms folded and staring straight back at him. Her jaw is set in a hard line, and she's taken the sunglasses off now, folded up and tucked into her shirt. Despite the distance, he can see her eyes boring into him, and he fights to keep the cringe tamped down.
"Well, Jack?" she says eventually, after a long silence has elapsed between the four of them, and Jack nearly chokes up. She sounds like an adult - which makes sense, he supposes she is one - and it takes him by surprise. He doesn't know what he was expecting, obviously she wasn't going to sound twelve anymore, but hearing it out loud is different than knowing it was coming. "Don't you have something you'd like to say to me?"
I'm sorry, jumps into his mouth immediately, and Jack swallows it down. This is the wrong time and place for that conversation, and he can't begin to figure out how to approach it, so he instead grins in a way he hopes doesn't seem unnatural or dismissive, and says, "Hi, Riley."
Before the thunderclouds on her face can manifest into a storm Jack would be well deserving of the wrath of, the last person Jack would expect to jump into the middle of this extremely uncomfortable reunion speaks up.
"Good to meet you," says Mac, physically stepping into the space separating he and Jack from Matty and Riley. "I'm Mac. I'm glad you're here and I appreciate you coming all this way to help us out."
With this introduction, Mac has swiftly and successfully shifted the focus of the conversation onto himself and, more importantly, the job they're all here to accomplish, diffusing a lot of the tension and redirecting the energy of the encounter. It has an instant effect on Riley, who looks away from Jack and at him, gaze no longer accusatory but evaluating.
"Hi, Mac," she says. "Riley. Where's the computer?"
She follows him inside, leaving Matty and Jack alone outside for a moment.
"Thank you," Jack says to her, and Matty raises an eyebrow.
"Doing my job, Dalton."
They're both well aware he didn't just mean going to get Riley and escorting her here. Inside the shack, Riley is settling into the vacant chair at Rasmussen's desk, hitting a few keys on the keyboard and making a surprised and impressed sound in the back of her throat at what she sees.
"Wow," she says out loud, looking over at Mac, who is standing next to her, watching what she's doing with interest. "No shit you guys needed me. This is serious business, your guy was incredible. Obviously a terrible person, but an incredible coder."
"Are you good enough to get past him?" The question is blunt, and Jack winces, wishing Mac had exercised at least a fraction more tact, though the question is a fair one. Of the three of them, he was the one least familiar with Riley and what she was capable of, with no frame of reference to work from.
"Please," she snorts. "I'm gonna hack circles around this dude, give me an hour and we'll be in the clear." It would be an irresponsibly arrogant claim if Jack wasn't well aware she had the chops to back it up.
"I hope so," Mac says, "because we've only got about ninety minutes left to find out."
