At the Bank... (Giving you a little more information today...)
"I was scared, when the man grabbed me and yanked me out from behind grandpa, I was scared he was going to hurt grandpa because of me"
Typical Mac Jack thought, even as a kid he was more worried about other's well-being than his own. Jack remained silent though and let the kid speak.
"The man dragged me towards the center of the room, grandpa came up behind us, trying to grab the man's arm, telling him not to hurt me, that I was just a boy…" Mac stopped, took a hitched breath and then continued, "another man grabbed grandpa and basically tossed him into the group of other adults in the room; I…I remember hearing for the first time…what I now know is the sound of bone breaking…" Mac swallowed hard, "grandpa's arm had been broken when he landed, he tried to catch himself before he hurt the pregnant woman they threw him on top of…"
The pounding in Mac's head was growing worse by the minute, he could feel his body start to shake slightly as the images of that day finally started to flow into a more logical order, they had been flowing, or rather assaulting him, for days now, but they had been jumbled, out of order, but now, as he told the story, they were falling into place in his mind, still, they were taking a toll.
Jack was still quiet, going against every instinct to protect the boy sitting beside him and making him stop talking, for clearly, this was taking a huge toll on his boy. Mac was shaking already, he was pale, even for him, and starting to sweat, but Mac needed to talk this through, so Jack allowed the lesser evil to win out for now…he did squeeze the boy's hand he was still holding though.
Mac felt Jack's hand squeeze his; he had not realized Jack still was holding his hand, normally he would have pulled it back a long time ago with some sort of comment about not being 10, but… today…right now…he was 9, so it was OK. He took comfort in the physical connection and continued.
"Grandpa yelled as the break in his arm happened, but he managed to contain himself as he glanced in my direction and smiled, telling me it was OK, he was fine, it was nothing" One of the men came over to where he was and kicked him in the stomach, told him to shut up!"; I remember screaming and trying to run over to where he was, but the man that was closer to me just grabbed me and tossed me back on the floor (like the men in Puerto Rico…Mac could not help the parallel happen in his head as he spoke, he shook it off and continued), "I was helpless, I couldn't…" Mac's breath caught, his body shaking more at this point, his head a virtual drum roll, he squeezed Jack's hand again, trying to ground himself.
Jack could see Mac's controlled walls crumbling, the carefully protective layers he so painstakingly edified around him continuously, coming down like a house of cards in the wind. It hurt Jack to see Mac like this, but he had to let the boy continue; he knew it was the best thing for him. Jack looked down at his hand, feeling Mac squeeze it, he squeezed back, but remained silent.
"I um…hit my head as I landed, I remember my head hurt for days after…" (Mac suddenly wondered if that is why it hurt now, if the memories of that day were causing a type of phantom pain? The scientist in him was oddly curious) "so everything was a bit blurry for a bit, I could hear the men talking though, they were saying things like 'hurry up' and 'grab this or that' to each other, one of them then came up to one of the women that were on the floor by grandpa, he grabbed her by her hair and stood her up, she was crying, he made her go with him, probably to open the vault before the hole was finished…."
Jack raised his eyebrow at that, "Hole?" he asked, "what hole Mac?"
Mac stopped and looked at the older man, "hole?" he didn't say hole, did he?" He ran his free hand, the one not being held by Jack still, over his tired eyes and rubbed his pounding forehead, "sorry, I meant to say before the cops showed up… "(Hole, no, there was no hole, the hole was in Puerto Rico, he'd made the hole to save the others, he needed to get a grip!)
"OK Mac, just breathe brother, you're OK" Jack spoke softly at the boy, he could still see the physical toll this was taking on Mac, his heart broke for the young blonde, "I'm right here son, you're safe"
Mac looked at Jack as he spoke to him, Jack was telling him everything was OK, that he was safe, he had to remember that, he was safe he thought, Jack, his rock, was there.
"I could hear the woman crying from the back of the bank, she was terrified" I looked over at grandpa and then noticed, I um…noticed the revolver in a holster, under one of the desks" Mac's world shifted and everything went grey for a second, he could feel bile rising in his throat, his mouth begin to water with the tell-tell signs of imminent nausea, he could feel the color drain from his face, he reached out with his free hand to grab the arm of the chair he was sitting on, everything seem to be fading around him, he couldn't catch his breath.
Jack saw the change instantly; Mac went 5 shades paler than his normal pallor; the boy's hand he was still holding was shaking violently now, Mac began to sweat profusely and he had closed his eyes and moaned in pain, then he grabbed on to the arm of the chair as if to steady himself; Jack was up, hurt knee forgotten in an instant, and he was kneeling in front of his boy, both of his hands on the boys shoulders, one finger checking for a pulse that was fast and irregular; damn it! Kid was headed downhill fast, he should have made him stop sooner. He took a steadying breath (he and Mac could not both freak out at the same time) and then with a tone of voice that only a father could muster when speaking to his child, to the most precious and loved thing in his life, he spoke to the boy…
"Angus, son, I need you to listen to me bud, I need you to open your eyes for me please, son, look at me…" Jack waited, after what seemed like for ever Mac looked at him, eyes wide and red-rimmed, tears flowing freely from them, "That is it, good, now listen to my voice OK son? I need you to stay with me, and I need you to repeat after me, OK, no matter how silly, just repeat after me, are you hearing me son?"
Mac nodded, Jack continued, "One" (Mac repeated), Two, Three (Mac repeated), Five (Mac frowned, it was out of order, but he repeated, trusting Jack), Six, Four (Mac frowned again, but oddly saying it made him feel better…they continued), eight, seven, eleven, ten…" Jack could feel Mac's heart rate begin to drop, the boy's body was not trembling as badly, the boy opened his eyes and looked at Jack, swallowing hard and blinking fast, as if waking from a nightmare; Jack wiped a stray tear from Mac's cheek with his thumb and smiled at the boy.
Mac took a deep shaky breath, he felt Jack's thumb on his cheek, realized he was crying again, he really needed to get a grip he thought, but right now he was just grateful the storm in his mind had abated and he could breathe and think straight again. His head was still pounding fiercely, his body was aching, his stomach was in knots, but he could think straight, so he was grateful for that, for Jack, the unmoving rock in his crazy life, the foundation of all that he considered good and trustworthy in his life.
He smiled at his 'pseudo father', "It's OK da-Jack, it is getting better, I'm OK"
Jack released his hold on the boy, wiping a hand over his own face and taking a shaky breath of his own (he had heard the "da" and his heart warmed). He was scared for a minute, scared Mac had gone too far down the dark rabbit hole these memories seem to be inside of, too far and too deep. He needed to be more careful with his boy, maybe he should get a professional's opinion he thought, Mac's voice bringing him back from his reverie with a start.
"I'm sorry? "Jack asked the young blonde, he had not heard what Mac had asked him.
"Why did you make me count out of order Jack?" Mac asked, partly because he was curious, and partly because it was something to say.
Jack smiled, he ran a hand through Mac's hair unabashed and unimpeded, "Because, our brain cannot freak out and count numbers out of order at the same time, both functions use the same areas of the brain, so the brain picks the numbers because they are in an illogical order, so it focuses on making sense of that instead of freaking out"
Mac looked surprised, Jack he knew was smarter than most people gave him credit for, he used that "I'm just a big thug" persona to his advantage, but Mac was very much aware of Jack's potential, but still, when Jack chose to use his intellect and knowledge of things not related to guns, fighting and or blowing stuff up, he was often caught by surprise.
"What?' Jack said, laughing softly at his boy's expression, "I know stuff", Jack patted the boy on the shoulder, "I read".
Mac smiled thinly and nodded. He cleared his throat. "Jack"
"Yeah bud?" Jack looked at his friend.
"OK if we take a break, I need to lie down a bit, maybe take something for this headache?" Mac asked softly. He really needed to stop for a bit; somehow, he knew what came next in the "story" was not going to be pleasant, even though he knew that, he could not actually truly remember what happened next? It was a disconcerting conundrum.
Jack nodded; "Yeah Mac, I was going to insist you take a break actually; you look like hell son", he nodded towards the boy's bedroom. "Go lie down, I will bring you something for that headache I know is probably pounding in your head right now" Jack winked, the boy just smiled back at him tiredly and nodded.
Jack sat there and just watched his boy make his way slowly towards his bedroom. Mac looked almost fragile. Jack sighed, he knew what he needed to do, he grabbed his phone and dialed a familiar number as he stood and walked out to the back porch, "Matty…"