There were so many fascinating things in the Queen's study.
Of course, the crystal ball at the centre of the room was eye-catching, but there was also an original Louis XV coffee table (which Jack was using as a footstool…), and an extremely intricate clock, and all manner of magical artefacts…
Jack shook his head with much exasperation but also much fondness, throwing up his arms as if to say, can you believe this guy?
Patricia gave a little smile that Mac swore was almost-fond.
But, like a magnet, one object, not as large or showy or shiny as the other objects, eventually caught his eye.
A pocketwatch.
Bronze, utilitarian, but well-made, well cared for.
Mac's eyes widened, and he stepped closer and grabbed the watch off its shelf, without thinking.
He opened it, saw the initials engraved there, confirming his suspicions, what he'd known since he'd laid eyes on it, and rounded on Jack and Patricia.
'This is my dad's.' He held it up, a maelstrom of emotions in his voice. Sadness, hope, anger, disbelief... 'My dad's pocketwatch. How did you…'
Jack's eyes had widened in shock. Patricia's expression, too, showed rare surprise, and there was sorrow in her dark eyes.
It was the Queen who spoke.
'Seven years ago, a dying man came to our gates…'
Mac glanced between the pocketwatch in his hands and the lady of the castle, tears starting to well in his eyes, shock and pain and hurt in his gaze.
He didn't stay to hear her finish her sentence, and instead, bolted out of the Queen's study, the pocketwatch still in hand.
Jack jumped up, knocking the very expensive coffee table over, and bolted out the door after him.
Patricia watched him leave, then glanced over at the spot on the shelf where the pocketwatch had been, then sat down at her desk, resting her elbows on it and putting her face in her hands, shoulders slumping.
Mac ran through the castle, no clear destination in mind.
Bozer and Riley (in the middle of setting up the self-playing musical instruments to serenade Jack and Patricia again) stopped what they were doing and stared as their friend ran by.
'Mac?'
'Bro, you okay?'
About thirty seconds later (Mac was substantially faster), Jack ran by too.
'Jack!'
'What's happening?'
Bozer and Riley exchanged a very, very concerned glance, then put down the musical instruments, and took off after Jack.
Jack finally caught up with Mac in the laundry courtyard, and Bozer and Riley, running at full tilt, almost collided with him, but caught themselves in time.
Mac was facing away from them, breathing hard. Jack took a step forward, reached out with a hand, and the blonde whirled around, still with shock and pain and hurt and tears in his eyes.
'Did…did you know?' He gestured vaguely with the hand holding his dad's pocketwatch. 'Did any of you know?'
Jack shook his head, eyes very sad and sorry.
'No, son, no.' He gestured with his head towards the watch. 'Or we'd have given you that and told you…'
Mac stared into his eyes for a moment, then nodded in acceptance, believing Jack. Then, the tears started to flow, and without a word, Jack put an arm around his shoulders and guided him to sit down on one of the benches that ran around the courtyard, and Bozer sat down on the other side of his best friend, putting his own arm around him, while Riley sat down on Bozer's other side. She concentrated and raised a hand, and a whole stack of handkerchiefs appeared in Mac's lap.
A few minutes later, as Mac wiped his eyes on one of the handkerchiefs and blew his nose, Beth ran into the courtyard, dropped the fistfuls of her dress's skirt that she had in her hands, and sat down cross-legged in front of the bench that Mac, Jack, Bozer and Riley were sitting on.
Riley shot her a quizzical look, and Beth made a vague gesture in the direction of the infirmary with a hand.
'Cage told me to come here, as fast as I could.' She looked up at Mac, concerned. 'She told me what happened.'
Mac blew his nose again, and Jack patted his shoulder comfortingly, then withdrew his arm, as Bozer did the same.
The blonde took several deep breaths, each growing stronger and less shuddery, before speaking.
'What…what happened?'
Jack and Beth exchanged a glance, then the Knight swallowed and spoke.
'I was in the guardhouse when the intruder alert went off, so I got to him first.' He swallowed again, reaching up to put a hand on Mac's shoulder. 'He'd been badly hurt, real badly hurt, and he could barely speak, but…' He gestured to the pocketwatch in Mac's lap. 'He was clutching that, and he told me that he'd done it, his son was safe, and that his only regret…' He swallowed again, voice hoarse with emotion. '…his only regret was that he couldn't see him one last time, couldn't give him his watch, as was his by right.'
Mac stared at the pocketwatch for a long moment, picked it up and held it up to eye level, then glanced at Jack, then wiped his eyes with a fresh handkerchief, as Beth, voice soft and sad and sorry and the tiniest bit guilty, spoke.
'I…I couldn't do anything but ease the pain for him.'
Mac looked up at her, and gave a little nod, knowing that she'd have done everything she could, and thankful for what care she'd been able to provide his father.
Jack spoke again, voice still rough and hoarse.
'We didn't get his name, but the least we could do was give him a proper funeral and burial.'
Beth gave a sad little nod with a matching little smile, looking up at Mac.
'We buried him as an unknown, brave, loving father.'
Mac inhaled a shuddery breath at that, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them again.
'Where?'
Mac stared at the gravestone before him, at the very back of the garden, surrounded by trees, in a peaceful, private copse of sorts. The grave (his father's grave) was well-kept, free of weeds, likely by magic, he thought.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, not able to find the words to say anything.
Wordlessly, Riley, then Beth, then Bozer, clasped his shoulder for a moment, then walked away, back towards the castle, leaving him with Jack.
Mac kept staring at his father's grave, crouching down and putting a hand on the earth, finally finding the words, as Jack crouched down next to him.
'I…I thought he abandoned me.' Mac swallowed. 'But…but he left because he loved me. Because he wanted to protect me.' He made a choked sound, gripping his father's pocketwatch tighter. 'He…he died to…'
He trailed off with another choked sound, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief again. Jack reached out, clasped the teen's shoulder.
'He was a great man, son. Wish I could've gotten to know him.'
Mac just nodded, and then, Jack squeezed Mac's shoulder one more time, got up and headed back towards the castle, giving him privacy.
A while later, Mac turned to look behind him as he heard footsteps approach, finding Patricia walking towards him, and stood.
She stopped a few feet in front of him and paused for a moment, dark eyes meeting his.
'I'm sorry, Mac.'
It was completely, truly heartfelt; he could see it in her eyes, even hear it in her voice. From nowhere, she drew a gold necklace and held it out to him.
Mac swallowed as he recognized the necklace, with its simple, but expertly-made, rose pendant.
It was his mother's necklace, the one that his father had made for her with his own hands, the one that his mother had worn always.
One of three things of any note that his dad had taken with him when he'd left.
His pocketwatch. His quarterstaff. And his wife's necklace.
'It was the only other thing, save for his clothes, that he had with him.'
Mac reached out and took the necklace with a little smile, rubbing his thumb over the pendant like he vaguely remembered doing when he was very small, when it had hung around his mother's neck.
When he looked up, that same little smile was reflected on Patricia's face, sad and soft and fond.
'What were their names?'
'James and Ellen.'
She nodded, and gestured elegantly to his father's headstone.
'May I?'
Mac nodded, and she made another little gesture, and the 'unknown' inscribed on the stone disappeared, and was replaced with 'James MacGyver'. The 'brave and loving father' portion remained, and another line of text was added below it: 'and husband to Ellen'.
Mac's little smile widened ever-so-slightly.
A little while later, as the sun set, Mac walked alone back to the castle, his father's pocketwatch in one pocket, his mother's necklace in another.
Honestly, for seven years, the worst part was the fact that I had no idea what had happened to my father. Where he'd gone, and why.
Sometimes, I found myself wishing that I'd just get a letter one day from another town, in which he told me that he'd started a new family and was disowning me.
That would still have been preferable to just living with questions, and nothing but questions.
Mac paused at the threshold of the door that led back inside from the gardens.
Now I know.
I know what happened to him. I know why he left.
And it wasn't because he didn't love me anymore. It wasn't because he wanted to start again, and I was holding him back.
He left for me.
And he died for me.
Because he loved me, and wanted to protect me.
I don't know if I can be as good a man as my father was.
He set a very, very high bar.
But I will always, always try.
Mac smiled as Bozer handed him a bowl of tomato soup, and then Riley passed him the basket of cheesy buns.
Several of them were somewhat misshapen due to Jack's attempts to help.
(He was no cook or baker, that was for sure.)
His smile widened further as a very, very familiar and much-beloved smell wafted through the air, as Beth entered the dining room, carrying an apple pie (a second floating behind her, followed by Cage), made according to the reconstructed version of his mother's recipe that they'd settled on after much trial-and-error.
I know now that I really am an orphan.
My mom died when I was five.
My dad died when I was ten.
But that doesn't mean I don't have family.
Not at all.
'It was a strange coincidence.'
Patricia stared at the empty spot on the shelf where James MacGyver's pocketwatch had sat that morning.
Jack, sitting on his favourite armchair, his feet on his favourite footstool, shrugged.
'Or maybe it's Fate, Patty.' She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged again. 'Or maybe it was just a coincidence. Kid says that coincidences are statistically inevitable.' He made a face. 'Tried to show me some math to prove it or something…'
Her eyes softened into something fond and amused at that.
Jack hid his smirk behind his tankard of beer.
He knew Patty really did care about the teens. A lot.
Maybe she could adopt one of them as her heir if they ever got this curse broken.
Their reactions would be hilarious.
'…Rich colours are coming into fashion, and it'll look better if you add another pleat here…'
Bozer, his mouth full of pins, shot Riley a thumbs-up as he pleated the fabric on the dress that the dummy in front of them was wearing.
For a girl who essentially always wore trousers and a shirt, she had very strong opinions on gowns, and great taste.
A large stone statue, a model of the castle, perfectly scaled, rose out of the ground of the courtyard, then, with a single movement of Riley's left hand, disintegrated into nothingness.
Then, Riley disappeared from the centre of the courtyard, and reappeared standing on the roof.
Patricia nodded in approval, something in her eyes that Riley was quite sure was pride.
'Chocolate-dipped strawberry?'
Jack held out the bowl to Patricia, as the two of them sat in the gardens on a picnic blanket.
(They were sure that if they attempted to go back inside, they'd find themselves somehow thwarted, so it wasn't worth the effort to try.)
(Besides, they had a lovely dinner that they hadn't had to put any effort into, and it wasn't as if they didn't enjoy each other's company anyway.)
She took one with a small smile and a graceful inclining of her head, ate it, and then took another one.
(She had a secret soft-spot for chocolate.)
(Jack knew that.)
Riley stared at the odd sandwich (at least, that's what it most resembled) on the plate in front of her, which Bozer was holding out to her eagerly.
There was a disc of grilled ground meat topped with a thin slice of cheese, which was melted, as well as some lettuce leaves, slices of pickles, slices of fresh tomato, mayonnaise, and a sauce made of tomatoes.
She reached out, took the plate, picked up the odd sandwich-like foodstuff with both hands, and took a bite.
Her eyes widened as she chewed, and she looked down at the foodstuff, then back up at Bozer, something akin to wonderment and awe in her eyes.
She swallowed, and immediately took another bite, very, very eagerly, and Bozer grinned in satisfaction, an expression that was almost a smirk.
Riley took another two bites, and then, she looked up at him again.
'What is this?'
He smirked.
'Well, it's a Wilt Bozer original that I've decided to call a hamburger.' Her brow furrowed; there was no ham in this 'hamburger', and Bozer continued. 'It's named after this place in Germany; I found this book on German foodstuffs, and this is inspired by this local delicacy from Hamburg called the Rundstück warm…'
'…Well, infinite diversity in infinite combinations, so anything and everything is possible if you accept that argument.'
As Mac and Beth walked through the garden one night, after dinner, talking, Beth paused in her steps, and looked up at him, a sad, wistful little smile on her face, in her voice, like there'd been that very first night in the infirmary when he'd asked how old she was.
'So by that logic, there's a universe out there where there was no curse, where you came to the castle to be my father's apprentice, and we met and became friends and…'
She trailed off, a little awkwardly, cheeks pinking a little under the moonlight, and Mac simply smiled at her.
'Well, then I'd have been able to make you a better 17th birthday present.'
He was working on one already. It was a spaghetti-machine, a traditional Engineer training tool (if you could make something inefficient, you could make something efficient – according to legend, the name came from the fact that the very first one had made pasta very inefficiently).
She blinked twice, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and sad and happy and the tiniest bit hopeful and, above all, disbelieving.
'You're making me a 17th birthday present?'
Beth might be cheerful and bright by nature (everyone in the castle was, really, deep down, in their heart-of-hearts, an optimist, or they'd have gone insane decades ago), but after 200 years, it was very, very hard to have more than a tiny scrap of hope that the curse could be broken.
Even with Riley and Bozer's plans.
Mac nodded, and acting on impulse, reached out and took her hand.
'Yeah, I am.' He paused, eyes seeking out hers, and spoke insistently, confidently. 'We're going to break this curse, whether by Cage, Matty and Patricia's research and magic, possibly with Riley's help, or by Riley and Bozer's plans succeeding, or by inviting guests to the castle…whatever it takes, Beth.' He squeezed her hand. 'We're going to break it, I promise.'
She stared at him for a long moment, seemingly lost for words, then reached out and hugged him.
Some things are far, far easier to express in something other than words.
'Thanks, Mac.'
He tucked his head over her shoulder with a smile.
Or, it's far easier to express something very, very complex with a couple of simple words and a gesture.
AN: This story was finished just before 2.13, CO2 Sensor + Tree Branch, so 'left to protect his son' was just the reason why Mac's dad left that I thought was mostly likely as of 2.12, Mac + Jack. Mac's mother's necklace is another nod to the original Disney Beauty and the Beast, I tried to put a few nods to it throughout the story…
And yes, in this AU, Bozer is the inventor of the hamburger. I just couldn't resist!