Thanks for the reviews! I like to think of this as my guilty pleasure writing fic. I'm enjoying writing it, even though I have no idea if what I'm writing could even maybe, possibly, be how this would work in real life. I'm deciding to not care about that. I hope you all approve.
When the police show up, Lonny and Will are waiting in the car. Will jumps out as soon as he sees the police cars, and Lonny is a few seconds behind as Will rushes towards the cops.
Will is already yelling at one of the cops when Lonny steps up beside him, and tries to put a calming hand on Will's shoulder. Will promptly shoves it off, and turns his attention back to the officer.
"My wife is in there," Will says, and Lonny gets the feeling that it's not the first time Will has said that in the very short conversation he's been having with the police officer.
"I know, sir," the officer says with a sigh. "Can you calm down, back up, and let us do our job?"
"You don't understand," Will says, and they don't. They don't understand. Will can't calm down. He can't. Because Mac is still inside. His whole goddamn life is still inside that bank, and Will can't help but run through all the worst case scenarios, because that's what he does, that's who he is. And if the worst happens, he won't survive it. He won't.
When he said that Mac had to be okay, it wasn't bluster or hyperbole. She had to be okay. Otherwise he wouldn't be.
"Will, let's get out of the way," Lonny guides him over to just in front of the police barrier. He knew better than to try to get Will on the other side of the barrier. "Maybe we should call someone? Charlie?" Lonny's not an idiot. This is something he's not equipped to deal with. Take a bullet, yes, but this? He's never been good at this kind of shit.
Will makes a non-committal noise, and Lonny takes that as close to an agreement as he's going to get from Will at this point. Will's hands are shoved into his pockets, his mouth set in a firm line, and his gaze never wavering from the front door of the bank.
Charlie answers on the third ring, and Lonny clears his throat.
"Mr. Skinner?"
"Lonny?" Charlie sounds surprised to hear from him, and then his voice gets low. "What's happened?"
Lonny glances over at where Will is still staring at the front door of the bank, and sighs.
"I think you should come down here," Lonny tells Charlie. "We have a situation."
The three are arguing over what to do.
The fact that they seem completely in over their heads is far from reassuring for Mac. She rests her head on her knee and contemplates slipping her phone out of her bra while they're distracted. She wants Will to know she's okay; she needs him to know that she's hanging in there, and that she's safe, for the moment at least, and that he shouldn't panic.
If she knows her husband, and she likes to think she does, she knows he's, in all probability, freaking out. She just wants to help lower his blood pressure a little bit. Get him out of his own head.
The young teller whose shaking hands had opened the bank vault had ended up sitting next to Mac against the wall, and she looks much like Mac imagines Will does outside. Her eyes are wide, her hands are trembling, and she looks on the verge of a nervous break-down.
"It'll be okay," Mac says softly, shooting a quick glance over to the huddled three, and reaching a gentle hand out to touch the young woman on the arm. "We'll be out of here soon." Mac doesn't even believe the words she's saying, but the girl seems to calm marginally, and so Mac repeats it. "It's going to be okay."
"It's my third day," the young woman whispers, her voice slightly incredulous.
"It's a hell of a first week. You should probably ask for a raise," Mac tries to smile, but she's a little too terrified to pull it off. "I'm Mackenzie, by the way. Mac."
"Hannah," the girl introduces.
"You did well over there," Mac tells her seriously. "You kept calm. That was good."
"I just want to go home," Hannah murmurs, her voice edged with tears, and Mac reaches for her hand and gives it a squeeze.
You and me both, Mac thinks.
"We don't even have enough money to make this worthwhile!" Mac hears Sparky complain and she turns her attention back to the three.
"We can try to go out the back door," Lurch suggests.
"You're an idiot," the Captain says. "They'll have the whole place surrounded, dip shit." He kicks a garbage can over, and the sound of it makes Mac jump, her heart racing, and her hands slick.
The Captain has a temper, and that scares the ever loving shit out of Mackenzie.
Calm, she repeats in her head. Just keep calm.
The phones ringing from behind the teller's desk startle Mac, and Hannah grips Mac's hand tighter.
Give them what they want, Mac pleads silently. Give them what they want and let us go. Please, just let us go.
Will's attention is turned away from the door when he hears Charlie and Jim calling his name, and glances over to see them hurrying towards him.
"She's going to be okay," is the first thing that Charlie says. "We'll get her out of there, and then you two can take the rest of the day off. Hell, take tomorrow too." Will doesn't reply; the only thing bouncing around his head is Mackenzie's name, and he's sure if he tried to open his mouth that's all that would fall out. Mac. Be okay. Mac. Please. Mac. Please.
"Has anything happened?" Jim asks, his arms crossed, and looking at Will kind of like this is his fault, which is absurd, but Will understands feeling useless.
He's got the market cornered on feeling useless right about now, and he doesn't have the energy to care if Jim is unfairly upset with him or not.
Will shakes his head, and returns his attention back to the bank door.
"I'm going to go try to find something out," Jim insists, and Will knows that the cops don't know anything, but he also knows that Jim knows that too. Jim knows that, and he needs to do something, and so he watches as Jim trots over to a cop and gesticulates wildly.
"It's going to be okay," Charlie says, but they're empty words, and they both know that. Charlie has no idea if it's going to be okay. Nothing will be okay until Mackenzie is out of there.
"They don't know fucking anything," Jim announces angrily when he reappears at Will and Charlie's side.
Will's phone buzzes and he glances down at the screen and his heart stops when he sees Mackenzie's name. His finger shakes as he slides open the message.
I'm okay. I hid my phone. There are three of them. We're against the far right wall. There are seven of us. I love you, so much.
"She's okay," Will speaks up, clearing his throat roughly. She's okay. And he's going to fucking kill her for keeping her phone and risking getting caught.
"What?" Charlie asks, turning sharply on his heel to look at Will.
"She texted me," Will held up his phone. "That idiot kept her phone on her and texted me." He's not sure if he wants to laugh or cry, but he tightens his grip on his phone, his connection to Mac, and shakes his head. He makes his legs move towards the police officers, and holds out his phone.
"Mr. McAvoy, we don't know anything," the officer Will had argued with earlier sighs when he sees Will approaching.
"No, but I do," Will replies. "My wife, my infuriating, genius wife kept her phone. She just texted me. There are three of them. She said the hostages," and that word makes him swallow hard. Because Mac's a hostage. She's a fucking hostage. And the word makes it terrifyingly real. "are against the right wall. There are seven of them."
"Jesus," the officer breathes out. "Can I see that?" And Will begrudgingly hands over his phone, and the cop reads the message, and then calls out to the negotiator who just arrived. "That's...your wife is stupid and brave."
That assessment is something that Will can wholeheartedly agree with.
The officer hands back Will's phone, asking him to keep close, and Will sends back a message.
Keep safe. Keep the information coming. I love you. You have no idea how much. Don't do anything else to draw attention to yourself. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Mac slides the phone back into her bra as soon as she sends the message. She's an idiot, she knows. She also knows that Will is probably trying to figure out if he wants to kiss her or kill her for keeping her phone, but she knows it was necessary.
The trio's attention is diverted, they've moved onto arguing about whether or not to answer the phone, who will answer the phone, how to handle the phone, and Mac fights the urge to roll her eyes. They're idiots, but that might make them more dangerous.
"Get one of them to answer the phone," Sparky says, waving in the direction to where their seven hostages are still slumped against the wall. The Captain pauses, and then walks over, and Mac's just relieved she managed to get the message off to Will and her phone hidden again before this happened.
Mac knows before it even happens that she's going to be the one they pick. That's just her luck, and so it doesn't surprise her when the Captain lands on her, pointing at Mac and then pointing at the phone.
"You. Up," he directs and Mac climbs shakily to her feet. "Answer the damn phone."
"Hello?" She answers, and she's proud that her voice is steady.
"Who am I speaking with?" The officer on the other end asks.
"Mackenzie McHale," Mac replies.
"Ah, of the famous text message," the officer says, and Mac breathes out a silent sigh of relief that Will got the message and relayed the information.
"Tell him we need to leave," Lurch insists to Mac. "Tell him just let us leave and no one has to get hurt."
"They said just let them leave and no one will get hurt," Mac parrots back. She's gripping the phone tightly in her sweaty hands, and she suddenly notices the Captain's eyes narrow.
"Hang up the phone," he demands, and she immediately does as she's told.
"Why'd you make her do that?" Sparky asks, and the Captain roughly grabs Mac's hand where her engagement ring is sparkling up him.
"That's a pretty big rock you've got there, Mackenzie McHale," the Captain tells her, his voice cold and calculating.
"Take it," she says immediately. She knows Will has the thing insured, and she also knows that he'd be the first to tell her to get rid of it if it means keeping herself safe.
"I'm thinking a husband who can buy his wife a pretty ring like this will pay a lot to see her safe," the Captain grins at Mac through the mask, and she feels herself go cold. "Maybe this isn't such a waste, after all, Mackenzie McHale," and she hates how he keeps saying her name. Hates the sound of it on his tongue. "You should call your husband, Mackenzie. I think I need to talk to him."