OK, let's go down the rabbit hole (Note, this is of a sensitive nature, I mean to offend no one I've been touched by suicide twice so that is where I'm coming from) I know sometimes this type of situation comes out of what seems "the blue" and shocks us all...
Jack awoke with a start; he rubbed a hand over his face to chase away the cobwebs, he then glanced at his phone to check the time, 2:47 am. Jack looked around the room, remembering where they were, but then in an instant, he was up, something was not right, he could feel it, his "Spidey Senses" were screaming at him, or perhaps his "fatherly instincts"; Mac! He thought as he ran out the room.
Mac was not on his bed when Jack entered the room. "Damn it!" he muttered; he went back to his room, grabbed his gun and put on some shoes, he then headed back into the house, full Delta mode engaged, but even all his training and expertise did not prepare him for what he found when he stepped out onto the back porch after he realized the sliding door was ajar; nor did it stop him from nearly fainting when he saw what Mac was doing; Mac was holding one of Jack's backup guns in his hands, he wasn't just holding it, he was spinning the barrel slowly, holding the gun so tight, even in the low light of the moon, Jack could see the kid's knuckles were white from the effort; he was holding it as if he was engaged in a twisted solitary game of Russian Roulette.
After his initial shock, Jack stopped, he took a breath and tried to calm himself. He knew he needed to approach the boy slowly, not startle him; he knew it was literally a life and death situation that could end very badly. He holstered his gun, cleared his throat so he could ensure his voice would not falter and he stepped further out onto the deck, but still outside of Mac's field of vision.
"Mac, bud, there you are" Jack said softly, his body vibrating with the need to just rush over to where the boy was and take the gun away from him; when there was no response from the blonde, he continued, taking another step closer to his boy, "so, what are you doing out here at 3 am kid?" Jack asked innocently, taking another step towards his friend.
The spinning of the barrel stopped, Mac's hands were shaking, Jack was close enough now to where he could see them, Jack swallowed hard and waited.
"I didn't mean to wake you" the blonde said. He did not move, he did not look at Jack, he was eerily still, and the tone of his voice was eerily emotionless given what he was currently doing.
Mac sensed Jack had entered the deck, Jack had an energy around him that linked them both to each other, so even though Jack had not initially made a sound, nor had he approached him, Mac knew he was there. Mac knew what he was doing was going to freak Jack out; hell, it was freaking him out too, but he did not seem to either make himself stop nor care. His whole body, his brain, everything was just numb; he had never felt this way before, at least not this badly, even after getting home from the Sandbox, he was still able to not go down the rabbit hole he seemed to be stuck in right now.
When Jack spoke, Mac stopped making the barrel of the gun spin, but he still did not have the energy, or maybe the balls, to look at Jack.
"It's OK son, you didn't wake me" Jack answered the boy, taking the last 6 steps towards Mac.
Jack saw his chance to fully approach the kid and he took it; still engaging him in light banter as if nothing was out of the norm. As if it was perfectly normal for Mac to be sitting outside, in the dark, staring out at nothing, holding and playing with a loaded gun.
Mac finally, as if waking from a dream, was able to shake himself mentally and look up towards his partner just as he felt Jack's hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Mac however was still holding the gun tightly. He was not even sure why he had taken it? He knew Jack well enough to know that there would have been several loaded guns around the house, Jack always left a trail of them whenever they were somewhere he didn't know, especially if he was in full Papa-Jack mode, which he was; Mac had simply opened the kitchen drawer, taken the gun and walked out onto the deck, not sure of what he was doing, or why?
"Mac" Jack finally said in a tone that was that of a parent scolding a child but also lazed with tenderness and worry, "son, what are you doing with that gun?"
Jack had to get the gun, he needed to make sure he did so safely though, so he figured he would just come out and ask the kid what he was doing with it and go from there.
Mac blinked at Jack, he then lowered his head to look at the gun still in his hands; he sighed and released his grip on it. Jack immediately took it from him with an audible sigh of relief.
Jack saw his opportunity to take the gun from the boy when Mac's death grip on it loosened. Jack pounced on it and grabbed it, he removed the ammunition from it, locked the safety and sat it on the table beside him; as an afterthought he also removed his gun from the holster, removed that ammunition, set the safety on it and placed it on the table as well.
Mac could feel his body start to vibrate, shake really, and he could not stop it, nor could he stop the tears that suddenly started to fall freely from his eyes, nor the tortured sob that escaped his lips. Jack's was beside him in an instant, grabbing him by both shoulders and engulfing him in a bear hug that threatened to swallow him whole; a hug that made him feel loved, safe, anchored.
"Shhh, it's OK son, I'm here, it's OK; you're OK, we will figure this out, OK? I am here, and I will help you" Jack said as he held the boy who was now sobbing in his arms. "Whatever this is my boy, we will figure it out together, I promise; you will be OK"
Jack did not know what the hell was going on with Mac, but he knew this was not good, not good at all, and that he may need to get the boy some help, more than he could give him, but right now he just wanted to hold his boy, to comfort him, to feel his breath on his skin, to feel his heartbeat, because if ever there came a time when Mac was not OK, was not there, it would be Jack that would be tempted to play Russian Roulette…