Mac shut his eyes, trying to tell himself that this wasn't going to help the problem.
He knew that. Really - he did. But that didn't stop the surge of absolute want from coursing through him. It had been 4 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days since the last time. He knew Jack would be worried about him. He knew Riley and Bozer would get that look on their faces. And Matty would likely make him go to some shrink sessions before letting him back out of her oversight at the Phoenix.
Opening his eyes, Mac saw the small blade that was still sitting on the table in front of him. Next to it was a cotton pad and 2 single-use alcohol wipes. Mechanically, Mac moved to open one of the alcohol wipes. Slowly, thinking through every step, Mac wiped the edge of the blade, and then the inside of his bicep. If he was going to be stupid, he was going to be smart about it.
Once the blade was clean, Mac set it back down and continued to stare at what was in front of him.
'How are you doing?' The text came from Jack. Somehow he always knows when shit is about to go down with Mac.
'I'm fine', is the reply that Mac sent.
'Liar. Talk to me, hoss. What's going on in that big brain of yours? '
Mac didn't answer immediately, continuing to stare at the blade that he had prepped. He didn't want to do it. He knew all it would bring was worry and guilt, but he also knew it would get rid of the feelings of anxiety and helplessness that was currently swirling around inside of himself.
'I want to do something stupid' Mac replied. He knew that Jack would pick up on what he wasn't saying.
'I had a feeling it might be that. Do I need to come sit with you?'
Mac considered that. Did he need someone to sit with him? He didn't think so. He wasn't feeling particularly suicidal, per se, more I-need-to-quiet-the-voices-in-my-head.
'No. Don't bother. I know you had something planned for tonight' Mac sent. He would only feel worse if Jack had to put his plans on hold because he wasn't strong enough.
But he wasn't. He picked up the knife. Maybe…maybe using the back of it would trick his brain? He tried it, turning the knife upside down and dragging it across his skin. Mac shivered in delight.
Yes, that was what he needed. It just wasn't enough. This time, instead of dragging the back of the knife, Mac flipped it back over and just pressed the blade into his skin, leaving an indentation. He did that a few more times, feeling lighter and lighter each time he pressed and raised the knife.
But ultimately, at this point, Mac was sucked into the feeling. Taking the blade in a firmer grip, he pressed the edge of the knife into his skin once more but this time, he sliced firmly.
The rush that ran through him was euphoria, plain and simple. That was what he needed. He sliced 3 more times before the blood started welling up in the first cut. He looked down, pleasure coursing through him and wiping all of the negative feelings that had been swirling around his head and his heart all day.
But then the actions caught up to him. He quickly wiped the blade of the knife off with the alcohol wipe before setting it aside and opening a new wipe to clean up his arm. Wiping away the blood, Mac brought a cotton pad to apply pressure before taping it into place and throwing away his trash.
'I did the stupid thing' was all Mac had to say to Jack before he was getting a call from the man himself.
"Give me the deets, hoss. I gotta know if I'm babysitting you tonight or if you're okay until tomorrow," was the first thing out of Jack's mouth.
"I - I'm okay, I think. There are only 4 cuts and they aren't very deep. They've already stopped bleeding. I've cleaned them off and applied some cream and put a wound cover on them. They don't need stitches," Mac gave the report as emotionlessly as possible. The shame and guilt that he knew was coming was starting to creep in.
"C'mon, man. Be honest with me,"
"I am! Promise. I'll let you examine them tomorrow," Mac placated his upset friend. He knew that it was only worry that had Jack acting like this. "And please - don't tell the others? They don't need to know about this," Mac continued.
There was a long pause before he heard Jack's voice again, "Fine. I reserve the right to change my mind once I see you for myself tomorrow, though. If you're lying to me about how bad it is, I'm taking the choice away from you and telling Riley, Bozer, and Matty. I'm serious. I'm doing this because I care about you,"
"I know, Jack. I hear you," Mac replied. What else could he say?
"Good. Now tell me - what's currently going through your head? Did it help?" Jack asked.
"... Yeah. It helped. I'm feeling better about earlier, but now I'm feeling bad about what I did. I know that everyone is going to be worried about me, which is the last thing I wanted. Does it help if I say that it took me a really long time to decide to do it?" Mac asked hopefully.
"Not really, bud," Jack replied, slightly sarcastically.
"I didn't think it would. But this is the closest I've ever gotten to having this feeling and not cutting. Does that count for something?"
"Again, no. I am proud of you for not hiding it, though. That is a step in the right direction," Jack praised. He knew how hard it was for Mac to let anyone in, especially when the feelings were negative.
"I'm feeling a little tired now, Jack. Am I allowed to go to bed?" Mac asked. He wasn't at all being sarcastic. In the past, there have been times that Jack kept him up for hours, making certain that he wasn't going to do anything else once they were off the phone.
"Yeah, hoss. I think you're alright for tonight. But if you are even a millimeter late tomorrow, I'm going to drag your ass to medical, you got me?" Jack said.
"I think you mean 'millisecond', and yeah, Jack. I gotchu. And, thanks. I hope I didn't derail your evening too badly,"
"Nah. I was already in my jammies, watching my man Willis," Jack soothed. He knew that Mac carried a guilt streak miles wide. There was nothing he was going to do to make any imagined ideas of Mac''s worse. "I'll see you tomorrow. Butt crack o'clock. Don't stay up too late, my man. Need you firing all cylinders tomorrow,"
"Sounds good, Jack. Thanks," Mac said before hanging up the phone. He examined the cuts again. The cuts had stopped bleeding, but Mac wiped them once more with the alcohol wipes and still felt the slight sting, before replacing the wound covering.
Mac put on his own pajamas, opened his music, and played his guilty pleasure - show tunes.
With the sounds of Phantom of the Opera playing in the background, Mac brushed his teeth and went around the house, making sure everything was locked. With the lights out and the blankets pulled up, Mac closed his eyes, mentally prepared himself for the mild interrogation he was going to be put through the next day, and allowed himself to forgive what he had done.
Healing wasn't linear, but he knew that his friends would love him no matter what, and any step forward was going to be celebrated. And any pause in the act, even if he hadn't stopped himself completely, was a step in the right direction.
With a slight smile on his face, Mac drifted off to sleep. It may not be right at this moment, but he knew he would get better some day. Eventually, he wouldn't have to do this to himself to feel better.