Jack had, with Matty's blessing, appropriated one of the company helicopters, and a pilot, not to mention a medic, and got across town and landed in a high school football field about a block from where the cell call came from. He left the medic in the dust running the rest of the way there.
He was glad he got there when he did, because what he found was the local EMS crew trying to approach his partner, and a very not okay looking Mac, with eyes wide and glassy with dread and something else that if Jack had to guess he'd say was some sort of sedative, half sitting up and using his heels to back away from them, supported only by one arm. The other arm was bloody and he was holding it across his body protectively.
One of the crew was squatted down on the ground near him, but not overly close, Jack was pleased to see, talking quietly. Mac just shook his head. She held out her hand and one of the others passed her an IV kit. The look on Mac's face had Jack breaking into a run. Mac wasn't a guy who was going to say, "Oh yes awesome, please stab me with sharp things," but he also wasn't prone to panic or getting irrational about his discomfort. Usually, he left that to Jack.
Mac's face said blind panic, like if they didn't back off someone was going to get a lesson in not assuming just because a guy looked like a college freshman who was maybe on the track team, he wasn't trained in deadly hand-to-hand combat. Jack put the brakes on the situation going south with a soft, friendly, "Hey there," as he got close enough and slowed down.
Mac looked up at him, his relief instant and visible to anyone anywhere close. "Jack!" Mac started to try to get up and immediately sat back down hard.
"Hey, there, bud," Jack said, hunkering down next to his partner and putting a hand out, letting Mac see his intention in case the kid wanted to pull away. Whatever happened to him was bad, and Jack didn't want to make anything worse.
Now that he was close, he could see Mac's pupils were dilated and he was swaying with the effort of keeping himself upright. Drugged. Oh, that son of a bitch. Jack promised himself he was going to kill Murdoc, but not quick like. He wanted some time with the bastard.
Mac took a slow shuddering breath and let it out with almost a sigh when Jack settled his hand on Mac's shoulder. Jack gave it a gentle squeeze and he felt Mac relax fractionally. Then Jack looks at the EMTs around him. "Hi. I'm Jack Dalton. My boss was supposed to call your dispatch?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"She did," the woman closest to Mac confirmed. "She said you were en route but to go ahead and begin treating him, preparing him for transport, but … he won't let us get near him. She said he's your partner and he's been a kidnapping victim?"
Jack was surprised Matty would have shared that much. "Yes, ma'am. But I got a medic with me, so you all are good to clear the scene."
"He seems like he's not in very good shape …" she fumbled for what to call this man in terms of rank or title, but lacking any information, she settled on, "Mr. Dalton. If we can be of any assistance ..?"
Mac shook his head just enough that Jack felt it. He glanced at Mac who was giving him a very sleepy, but equally pleading look. Jack just shook his head and gave her a friendly smile. "He'll get taken care of shortly at our secure facility, Miss, but thank you all for responding out here and keeping the crowd down till I could get to him."
She gave him an awed sort of look. "What are you guys, like DHS or something like that?"
Jack gave her a little smile. "Something like that." The EMT got to her feet, but Jack held up his hand for her to wait for just a second. "Hey, Mac, buddy."
Mac blinked slowly. "Jack," he breathed again. "I need to go … um … I want to …" His head bobbed like he couldn't hold it up and then he forced it up. "Home."
Jack had to grin at the kid. Yup, that was Mac. He made sure Mac was looking right at him, although it was with unfocused slightly owlish eyes, when he said. "Go, yes. Home, no. Back to the office. Infirmary. Security. No arguments."
A familiar, slightly argumentative tone crept into his next, "Jack"
Jack just gave his shoulder another squeeze. "I said no arguing, Slick." Mac actually gave him a small smile at that. "And you are three-sheets-to-the-wind on something you didn't decide to put in your body if the way your arm looks is any indication." Mac pulled his arm a little closer to his body, but he shrugged in acknowledgement. He was starting to feel vaguely less looped. "Don't worry, bud. I'll stay with you every minute and make sure you're okay with everything. You are never gettin' outta my sight again as long as you live. Like maybe I'll letcha use the bathroom on your own, but I might get a guard dog to send with ya."
Mac managed a low chuckle at that. "Help me up." He looked at Jack, wondering why the hell the EMT was still standing there. "Let's get out of here. Too bright out. I was all wet," he added nonsensically as far as Jack knew. "But it's so sunny I'm mostly dry."
"Okay, bud. But see, I came in one of the helicopters. It's a couple blocks away. I don't think you can walk that far. So how about we let these nice folks with the ambulance give us a ride over …"
"No," Mac said emphatically. "No ambulance." Then he thought of the echoing sound the blades would make inside the helicopter and he sucked in his breath. "No helicopter either." He saw the way Jack was looking at him. "Please?"
Jack shook his head. He supposed he should be reassured that Mac was feeling enough like himself to get stubborn, but he sort of wanted to just insist. The kid looked like death warmed over. Pale and sweaty and his eyes kept trying to close. Now wasn't the time though. The kid wasn't dying and maybe he just needed to feel a little in control. Being surrounded by medical types right away or flying in his least favorite means of aerial conveyance was not going to make matters better. "Okay, bud. Whatever you need."
Jack waved off the EMTs and the approaching medic from Phoenix. Best to take this one step at a time, at least until whatever was in the kid's system backed off a little and he was more in control of himself. Tightly controlled conscious Mac could put up with a lot, even if he didn't like it, through sheer will. This vulnerable, drugged, and injured Mac was too close to what Jack always thought of as the raggedy edge to push.
Jack got to his feet and then carefully helped Mac up as well, supporting him over to a nearby bench. As soon as they were sitting side by side, Jack just put an arm around his friend. It was all he could do not to crush the man in a fierce hug, but Mac didn't look like he was up to that, physically or emotionally.
Instead he just gently encouraged Mac to lean into his side, a hint that Mac took gratefully. He leaned his head against Jack's shoulder with absolutely no self-consciousness or hesitation. Man, he was doped up, Jack thought as he got out his cell phone.
"How is he?" was how Matty answered his call.
"Half asleep, practically sitting in my lap in the middle of the street, but shaking like a leaf and refusing the ambulance or the helicopter. So, send a car." He realized that sounded like an order and she was the boss. "Please?"
"You can't just talk him into ..?"
"Matilda, just send a car. He's … Hang on." Jack turned on the video option and held the phone out so she could see the state Mac was in herself.
"I'm dispatching one to your location now," she said, sounding shaken, and he dark eyes held the sort of concern and sympathy they had back at Mac's when she'd wanted Jack to stop blaming himself. Jack appreciated that. "When he gets here, how do you want ..?"
"Not the main med bay …" Jack thought for a minute. "Maybe just one of the exam rooms. They're less … intimidating," he said for lack of a better word. "And not a bunch of people. Maybe like one or two, tops. And they better not think even for a minute that I'm …"
"No one's going to ask you to leave his side for even a second, Jack," she assured him.
"Who's on duty?" Jack asked, knowing there were a few medical staff that had a more authoritarian demeanor, at least when it came to the two of them, and thinking that someone being too pushy or getting too handsy would send Mac skating right over the edge.
"I've got Dr. Patel on the roster. Is she okay?" Matty had never sounded so deferential to her team.
"Leslie's good," Jack said, smiling a bit when he realized that Mac was snoring softly. "Nurse? And please don't say Lucy."
"How about I just tell Dr. P that she's on her own and if she needs any assistance Mac will just have to tolerate Nurse Dalton?"
"Sounds good, Matty. I see the car coming," he said preparing to end the call.
"You take care of our boy, Jack."
"I sure will," he agreed, knowing he sounded close to breaking down again. He ended the call before she could say anything else.
The driver, Evan, happened to be one of Jack's favorites. The guy could handle just about anything and was a former SEAL, but he looked like an overgrown paperboy. And he was redheaded, and just about the same size as Mac, so nothing that might remind Mac remotely of Murdoc. Jack gently tried shaking Mac awake. Mac murmured something softly. "Hey, bud," Jack practically whispered. "You ready to go?"
"Mmmm. 'Kay."
Mac dutifully struggled to his feet with Jack's assistance. Evan held the door, but kept his distance. Mac flashed him a grateful smile though when Evan asked if he wanted a blanket. He's brought one just in case. "Yeah, thanks. I'm freezing."
Jack helped Mac wrap himself in the soft blue blanket so Mac wouldn't have to use his arm, which was a real mess. Mac looked up at him still standing on the sidewalk. Jack grinned at him and gave him a wink. "Oh, you best have room for me back there next to your skinny butt."
Mac nodded. Jack climbed in and Evan closed the door. Jack picked up his arm and offered Mac his side again. "Bring it in, kid." He knew how out of it and miserable Mac must be when, once again Mac practically snuggled into his side.
They drove in silence for a few minutes and Jack thought maybe Mac had gone back to sleep when he heard Mac mumble something softly. He tipped his head down a little. "What was that, bud?"
Mac moved the blanket away from his mouth a bit. "I said I'm sorry, Jack."
"Hey now," Jack said. "You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for, kid. You got yourself outta that awful mess whatever it was. I'm the one who should be sorry. I couldn't find you."
Mac shook his head just a little. "No. Paris."
"Oh, are you apologizing now because you look like such a kicked puppy so I hafta forgive you?" Jack teased, hoping the kid would just drop it. Jack felt like he was going to burst into tears like a five-year-old and this was already inching him closer to the edge.
"Jack, don't. I was an ass." Mac said, sounding a little more awake.
"Mac, it's okay. This whole thing with your dad has to be hard. I just want you to be safe is all, bud."
"I wasn't even thinking about that. I was just … Doing what I do … Shutting people out." He sighed, then he moaned softly.
"You okay, bud?"
"Arm hurts. And I went down like a sack of crap on that sidewalk. I'll be okay." He sighed again. "But just, I'm … I was acting like my dad. Just because I'm looking for him … I don't want that."
Jack pulled Mac closer. "Now, why would you even think that?"
"My grandfather said my dad was the smartest man he knew. Except me. But that being smart …" Mac slowed down, he couldn't remember the exact words and he could feel the drug in his system trying to pull him down into drowsy unpleasant sleep. "Anyway, it was kind like that forest for the trees thing you like to say. That … you shouldn't let being … You get blind to …" Mac sighed in frustration.
"I get you, bud. It's okay."
"No, it's …"
"Hey, I'm the one being apologized to here, ya big dumb genius. If I say we're good, we're good. And you're nothing like your dad. You never leave people who need you."
Mac sleepily leaned tighter against Jack. "Must've learned that from you."
Jack felt his breath catch. "Ah, Mac, shit." He tried to get on top of it, but felt a single tear trickle out of the corner of one eye anyway. "I wish that was true, bud. But if I hadn't left ya, all this wouldn't have …"
"You stayed in Paris even after I was a shit to you," he murmured.
"Now how did you ..?" Jack began indignantly.
"You told me to look out for tails, Jackass."
Jack chuckled, then he sobered again. "But I left you when you got home. I was having a tantrum and then you …"
"Went to my house with my very high-tech security system that I go to every day and I opened the door without looking like a freaking rookie. It's on me Jack."
"Yeah, well …" Jack trailed off, feeling like maybe he wanted to cry again. "Guard dog. But we'll call him Big Jack. So, you don't forget that I'm waiting outside the stall door."
"That's gross, Jack," Mac said, and Jack could hear a smile in his voice this time.
"Get some sleep, kid. We'll be there soon. The more of this crap you sleep off, the better you're gonna feel."
Mac tried, but the last short leg of the ride his rest was more fitful. When they got to Phoenix, Mac was trying very hard to think clearly, to be rational, but it proved a little too much for him for a few hours. He voluntarily got as far as Medical, but at the mere suggestion that he change into a gown his tired eyes had been blown wide with almost panic. Then the suggestion was made that they needed a blood sample and to start an IV and Mac had just gotten up and taken several quick, unsteady steps toward the door.
Jack stopped him, gently though, just stepping in front of him. "Is that how your arm got all torn up, kid? An IV?"
Mac didn't answer, didn't even nod, but his expression answered Jack very clearly.
"Okay, bud. So, we won't do that," he promised.
Dr. P gave him a slight glare that told Jack he might have just made her shit list. Oh, well. Her and half the other staff down here; so what else was new? He tilted his head at her in a gesture that said very clearly that she should get the hell out for a minute. Hey, if she was already annoyed with him, he might as well go the full nine.
When they were alone, Jack talked Mac into sitting back down on the exam table, wrapped in the blanket Evan had brought him. Mac's eyes were fluttering again. He needed to rest, and soon. He sat on the table next to his partner and questioned him quietly for a couple of minutes. Not about what happened but about what he needed here and now.
Then he slid off and went to talk to the doctor. Her expression softened when he spoke to her this time. Jack said he didn't know what had happened but there had been restraint, and big stabby pointy things, and Mac being handled roughly. He was having a hard time handling the idea of being touched, and definitely of being poked with any more needles, and the very letter I and V together made him make a face that told Jack the kid might be done with Roman numerals.
She agreed to a compromise she hoped Mac could live with. Jack could clean up his arm a little, because Jack touching him seemed not only to not upset him, but to be welcome. And they would nix the idea of an IV. Jack nodded approvingly.
He hadn't wanted to drag out his cold operator face on Dr. P, but he'd been willing to. For Mac. No matter what the kid said, Jack felt responsible for his current predicament. And she would put off any kind of more thorough exam or dealing further with his arm until what was in his system had worn off a bit.
"Good," Jack said, and he turned to go back into the room to clean up the mess on Mac's arm and tell the kid to get some rest.
She stopped him. "We do need to get a blood sample, Agent Dalton. Director Webber wants …"
"Shit," Jack swore, frowning at Mac, huddled in the blanket, just trying to stay awake. "Of course you do, but …"
"But he's had a very traumatic experience and he's under the influence of an unknown substance, and while that fact is why we need the sample, you're afraid it might be a triggering experience," she said, giving Jack the disconcerting feeling that she was reading his mind.
"Pretty much," he replied, just to have something to say.
She gave him a long look, thinking. "Go get his arm taken care of. Antiseptic and some antibiotic ointment for now. Don't even worry about bandaging it."
"Yes, ma'am," Jack agreed. "What then?"
"Help him get comfortable. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Jack raised a dubious eyebrow, but went and did what she said. Mac was so tired, so spent and sore and miserable from everything that had happened, he was having trouble keeping his eyes open at the moment. He had curled on his side on the table, wrapped in the blanket. Jack was a little worried that it was self-protective sleep. He'd seen people do that in the middle of a battle; just find a wall to curl up against and fall asleep after something terrible.
Then Mac surprised him by peeling one eye open. "Where'd the doc go?"
Jack wasn't sure what to do; he knew the doctor had a plan, but he didn't want to blindside Mac with the blood draw either. "Um …" Jack hesitated.
"She still needs a blood sample, for a tox screen. I don't know what Mm … what he … gave me."
Jack gave a nervous little chuckle. "I thought you might be freaked out still, kid."
"Doesn't matter. What if it's toxic? I'm a wuss, not an idiot."
"You are the least … You know what … You are the bravest person I know. Pretty much always. And definitely in this place when they start stabbing people with needles." Jack sucked in his breath. He shouldn't have said that.
Mac opened both eyes and looked up at his partner. "I'd like to believe that's still true, ya big baby. But after today I don't know … I'm thinking about it and I kinda wanna throw up."
"But you're not hightailing it out of here. Brave as a honey badger, bud."
"Save it until you know I haven't puked on your boots."
When Dr. P came in a couple of minutes later, Mac was caught somewhere between dread of his present circumstances and outright terror at seeing Murdoc's face in front of his when he'd grabbed his arm and driven that huge needle so deep it felt like it hit the bone.
He was pleasantly surprised when she very sympathetically told him that the last thing she wanted to do was upset him or trigger any associations with whatever had happened to him today. She applied so much topical anesthetic Mac thought she could have amputated his arm without it so much as stinging. Then she told him to close his eyes. Mac realized Jack must've closed his eyes, too because he felt his partner's balance waiver as he stood next to him.
He kept expecting the pinch of the tourniquet and was bracing himself for the feeling of someone tying his arm. That was almost as bad as the idea of a stabbing pain there. She realized that why he was still tense and she assured him that she could manage without one. She was finished a few minutes later and Mac was pretty sure he not only hadn't felt anything, but he wouldn't even be bruised.
She'd brought him a proper pillow from one of the actual rooms which Jack helped him get situated because it obviously hurt to use that arm, and Jack was pretty sure his partner was banged up all over, not that he'd admitted to any such thing, so matter how dopy he was. At least he let her take his vitals then, and she and Jack were both reassured by how normal the readings were.
Before she left the room, she asked him if he was comfortable or if he would move to one of the treatment rooms. He just shook his head. Those rooms were mostly small, and didn't have windows. Nope. He'd rather curl up on his side here until he could shake the cobwebs out of his brain.
She said, "Whatever you need, Mac. Based on your history, height, weight, general health, and the amount of time you were missing. I'd guess a few hours will have you feeling much better. Your vitals wouldn't be so stable if you'd been given anything truly dangerous, I think."
"Mmmm," Mac murmured agreeably.
"When you're ready I'd like to have a real look at you. Maybe do something more about your arm. But only if it's okay with you."
Mac just nodded. He really wanted to close his eyes. She left quietly to go update Matty and the rest of the team who were chomping at the bit to know how he was. And give Matty what little information she'd gotten, in hopes that it might help Tactical in their mission to find where Mac had been held from where he'd shown up.
Jack had pulled up a stool next to the table and had a hand on Mac's arm. Mac didn't seem to need the contact anymore, but Jack sure as hell did. "You doin' okay, bud?"
"Mmmm," Mac agreed. Then he murmured, "I think I don't hate Dr. P. She's alright."
Jack agreed wholeheartedly. This could have been really awful with Mac so out of his head from the drugs and whatever had happened. "She sure is, bud. Need anything?"
"You staying here?" he asked, trying not to sound too needy, but failing pretty miserably and then not quite managing to be able to care.
"I told you, bud, I'm stuck to you permanently now."
"Good. Thanks for coming to get me Jack."
"You saved yourself, kid. That was all your ginormous brain and your stubborn … the rest of you."
"No, after I got out. I was freaking out. Then you came, and I … I stopped."
"Won't have to worry about it ever again, kid. I'm legit going to follow you everywhere."
"I thought you only liked to fly helicopters," Mac said, finally starting to drift off again.
"Huh?" Jack asked.
"You're being one again, Jackass."
"And I'm good at it," Jack replied.
"The best," Mac said, and then he let himself sleep for a little while.
Until a nightmare of Murdoc yanked him awake. Then he knew it was time to get himself together and help the team find Murdoc.
No matter what it cost.
