Will's not sure which one is happier to be home.
The minute they walk in the door, Mac visibly relaxes. She's home, she's safe, and Will wraps his arm around her shoulder and presses a kiss to her temple and they just let themselves relax for a moment.
They successfully managed to evade the photographers on the trip from the hospital to their apartment, Lonny having hired extra security to accompany them, and Will gets Mac settled on the couch before stepping out onto the balcony and glancing down to see a crowd gathered on the sidewalk in front of their door.
It was news, unfortunately. The situation was news in and of itself, but when they found out that Mac, Will's wife and executive producer, was trapped inside, it blew up. He knew it would, but he still didn't like it.
Will steps back inside, shutting the door behind him, and Mac immediately notices his frown.
"How bad is it outside?" She asks, and he sighs.
"It's a fucking circus," he replies, crossing over and sitting down next to her. She tucks herself into his side, her arms circling around his middle, and he takes a moment to just breathe her in.
"Maybe the police can break it up, they're on their way, right?" And Will nods, and Mac sighs into his chest. "I just want it to be over with." Mac always did hate being the story, and Will hates that she's the center of this particular story. He still gets a little lightheaded thinking of all the ways it could have ended, and he hears her voice over and over in his head.
He was going to kill me.
She firmly believed that. Jesus, she must have been terrified.
"You're home, you're safe," he murmurs into her hair. He wants to keep repeating it until they both believe it. Until he doesn't feel like he might throw up at any moment and she doesn't look so damn fragile. "We have permission to skip work the rest of the week, and so we don't have to leave this apartment until Monday." And he doesn't plan on it.
Will's not sure how long they sit there, hands tangled together, Mac pressed into his side, but eventually the door buzzes and Will has to extract himself to let the cops up. He glances back at his wife, and sees Mac worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, a sure sign of nerves, and he wants nothing more than to tell the cops to back off. There were plenty of other witnesses; surely they don't need Mac to relive yesterday's events.
And God, was that only yesterday? It feels like it's been ages since he and Mac left their apartment in the morning, a smile on Mac's face as she leaned against him in the elevator. He wants to go back to yesterday, tug Mackenzie back into bed and stay there all day.
Pete and another cop he only vaguely recognizes from the day before step into the apartment. Officer Paulson is the other guy, Will can read his badge, and Will is sure he must have seen him yesterday, could have even talked to him, but the day's events are now a hazy, horrifying blur. Paulson whistles as he takes an appreciative look around Will and Mac's apartment, his eyes darting around at the high windows and expensive furniture. It's now warm and lived in, thanks to Mac, and Will can't imagine what he would have done if he had to come home to this beautiful apartment alone.
Mac's okay, he reminds himself, glancing over at where she's still curled up on the couch, her injured arm tucked against her. She's okay.
"How are you feeling today, Ms. McHale?" Pete asks politely.
"It's Mac," she corrects. "And fine. I'm...fine." Will's not so sure about that. He knows she's physically fine, but since the moment she dug her fingers into his sweater outside the bank, she's seemed almost breakable, and that's not an image he normally associates with his strong, resilient wife. He just wants to know what's going on in her head. He wants to help fix whatever's wrong, even though he recognizes that it's not an easy fix. "Let's just get this over with." And she reaches out her hand and Will takes it immediately, sitting down next to her on the couch as Pete and Officer Paulson sit in the chairs opposite.
"Start from the beginning," Pete suggests.
"I wanted to stop in and drop something off at my safety deposit box," Mac starts. "A ring. My family ring. I went in while Will stayed in the car." He should have gone in with her. He should have been there. The guilt is oppressive and heavy, and hits him full force. As if she can read his mind, Mac squeezes his hand and adds, "I was just running in and out. It was supposed to be quick. I was the next in line. There were only two tellers, and they were both busy. I don't know...I didn't see them come in. I was looking at my emails, but then I heard the blinds slam down and then they were there, waving guns and demanding that we drop to the floor." She's quiet for a moment, glancing down at her hands where the family ring still sits, and she twists it slightly.
"What happened next?" Pete asks.
"They wanted into the vault, and they were angry when the teller, Hannah, she said her name was Hannah," and then Mac stops, stricken. "Is she okay? Hannah, I mean? I never asked. I didn't..." She whips around to face Will and he can see that she's clearly upset. "I should have asked about...I didn't..."
"She's fine," Pete tells her. "She suffered a gunshot wound to the lower abdomen, and they did surgery and I'm told she'll make a full recovery."
"You had other things to worry about," Will says gently, placing a calming hand on Mac's knee.
"I should have asked," Mac shakes her head. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, before continuing. "Hannah could get to where the safety deposit boxes were, but she couldn't open them without the owner of the box present. They asked us to toss our phones and purses, but I managed to hide my phone before I slid my purse over."
"Why did you do that?" Pete asks gently, and Mac looks over at Will before replying.
"I needed to be able to tell Will I was all right. It was really important that I tell him I was okay," she answers simply.
"Were you afraid that you would get caught with the phone?" Paulson asks, and he seems genuinely curious, and Mac nods, biting her lip.
"Terrified," she responds. "But I had to…I just…had to."
"What happened then?" Paulson asks. "You keep your phone; you're all on the floor, what happens next?"
"They were going to leave," Mac says softly. "They were upset that there wasn't as much money as they thought there would be, but they were going to leave."
"What stopped them?" Will is the one to ask. It could have all been over quickly. Mac could have walked out the door, fine, fine, and into Will's waiting arms. What went wrong?
"The cops arrived," Mac explains, and Will feels sick. He drops his head down between his knees and tries to breathe.
"Oh fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"What?" Mac asks, turning to face her husband, placing a concerned hand on his back. "Will? What?"
"I called them, I called the police," Will says, his voice tight. It's his fault. It's his fucking fault.
"To be fair," Pete interrupts. "A silent alarm was also triggered. We would have responded either way."
"Will," Mac's voice is firm. "You did the right thing. You had no way of knowing."
"I need…" Will staggers to his feet. "I just need a minute." He pushes past, ignoring Mac's look of concern, and throws open the balcony doors. Will's not sure how long he's been standing out there, taking in huge, gulping breaths of cold air when he hears Mackenzie clear her throat behind him.
"Billy," her voice is gentle, and he turns his head slightly to look at her.
"You should be inside. You shouldn't…it's freezing out here, you just got out of the hospital, you need to get back inside," he instructs.
"It wasn't your fault," Mac insists. "It wasn't. A silent alarm had already been triggered. The police were on their way regardless of your actions."
"Maybe not as quickly, maybe if I don't call they leave and you get to walk out of there," Will shouts and Mac flinches, but she knows that he's angry at himself.
"Will," Mac tries again, and he turns quickly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, being mindful of her arm.
"I'm so sorry," he says, "I'm so damn sorry."
"It's not your fault, really, it's not. It was unfortunate timing, but I'm okay, I got out, I'm okay." He tucks his nose into her hair and they stand there for another moment before Mackenzie speaks up, "We really need to get back in there and finish with the police."
"Yeah," Will huffs, and takes her hand and they walk back in and settle themselves on the couch.
"Sorry," Mac apologizes and Pete waves her words away.
"It's not a problem, let's just go back. The police arrive, and then what happened?" Pete prompts.
"The phone rang, and the one in charge, I called him the Captain, he pointed at me and instructed me to answer the phone, and that's when he caught sight of my ring," she reaches over and squeezes Will's hand. "They started doing a little research, figured out Will was my husband, and came up with the six million number pretty quickly, but things started to splinter. The Captain wanted to take the lion's share, he claimed that he was in charge, it was his idea, and he deserved more. I think…I think that's what started the tension, but it started to build to a fever pitch. They moved me to an office to keep me away from the other hostages. I was able to text Will then, tell him that I was separated from the others, but then one of the other men, Lurch, came barreling back and demanding I call Will and ask for more money for my release."
"I would have…I would…" Will speaks up, and Mac places a soothing hand on his arm.
"I know," she reassures. "So I called. I called and told him the number had gone up." Will notices that Mac's voice has gone almost monotone. She's reciting the facts as if they were nothing more than a grocery list. It's more than a little concerning for him. "The Captain tells them that he thought that was a bad idea, that there was no way that Will was going to be able to come up with the money and then he pulled his gun out and pointed it at me. He said I was useless and he would just do them a favor and shoot me." She appears calm, but Will knows better, knows her better. Her hands are trembling, almost imperceptibly, and Will captures one between his hands and she gives him a shaky smile.
"He pointed the gun at you?" Paulson clarifies.
"Yes," Mac answers. She takes a deep breath. "But then they all started turning on each other. There was an island in the middle of the lobby, I thought, I mean, I started to inch my way back towards it. I thought it might be able to afford me a little protection if things got out of hand."
"Which they did," Pete adds.
"Which they did," Mac confirms. "I don't know who fired first. I hit my head on the way down on the corner, and everything after that is a little hazy. Everything got quiet after a few minutes, and an officer was there by my side suddenly asking if I was okay and if I had been hit."
Will doesn't like the tone of voice that Mac is using. She's shutting down. He can see her systematically shutting herself down, and it's fucking terrifying. He needs the cops to leave; she's trying to keep it together while they're here, and Will needs them to leave so that if she wants to break down, she can.
"And then I was walking out of the building," Mac finishes, and Pete nods.
"Thank you so much for doing this, Mac," Pete says, and Mac nods and Will hurries to his feet to show them out.
"Feel better," Officer Paulson offers as they head toward the elevator and Mac gives him a small smile in appreciation.
"If she thinks of anything else she would like to add, here's my card, but we've got a pretty good idea of what happened in there," Pete says, extending a card to Will.
Will tucks it into his wallet and when he steps back into the apartment, he finds Mac curled into a ball on their couch, her head resting on her knees.
"Want to talk about it?" Will asks, and Mac responds immediately.
"No, I really am fine, you know. It's something that happened, it's over, I'm okay."
And he knows she's lying. He just can't tell if it's to him or to herself.