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Jack would recognize that messy mop of blond hair anywhere. It had only been that long once that he had seen, right after they’d returned stateside after being discharged. Mac had let it grow out simply because he could before getting annoyed and asking Jack to cut it for him one night on the back patio.
Mac was dirty and grimy, his hair dark with sweat. He was on his knees, eyes on the ground. There was a wet bloodstain on the shoulder of his flannel that made Jack’s heart clench. The lack of a mouth-shaped tear barely eased his anxiety.
Negan had yet to come out to address this new group of people, and Jack couldn’t have been more grateful. Just as he was putting his gun back in its holster, Mac looked up, his deliriously frantic blue eyes somehow immediately clocking Jack in the opposing lineup. He was on his feet as quickly as he could, body moving without thought.
Someone pointed their weapon at Mac, Jack aiming his instinctively. “Uh-uh, put it down,” he warned lowly, taking measured steps toward where Mac stood, frozen. Wisely, the other man lowered his gun, Jack giving him a hard look for a second before turning his attention to Mac.
Mac was staring at him, hands visibly shaking. Jack closed the distance between them in a few wide paces, pulling him into a bruising hug. Mac wrapped his arms around Jack as tightly as he could, hiding his face in Jack’s neck. Jack’s fingers tangled into his greasy blond hair, holding him as close as possible.
“Oh, baby,” Jack whispered hoarsely, only taking a second to compose himself. He guided Mac to the side, closer to the tree line and away from what he knew Negan would refer to as ‘center stage’. Mac followed easily, hands gripping the back of Jack’s jacket like a lifeline.
“J-Jack? What’s going on? I don’t understand what’s ha-ppening,” Mac stuttered, trying to look past Jack at the group of people. Jack wouldn’t let him, holding the back of his head to keep his face hidden in his chest. Mac felt overwhelmingly dizzy.
“It’s all gonna be okay, Mac, promise, okay? I promise you’ll be okay. Are you hurt anywhere?” Jack kept taking slow steps away from a spectacle that he knew Mac didn’t need to see. “I just need you to stay quiet and do what I say, okay?”
Mac stopped walking with Jack, freezing them in place. “What is going on, Jack?” he asked as firmly as his weak, shaking voice was able. Jack shifted his hold on Mac into a better hug, unwilling to let him go.
“Shit’s not great. The group I’m with… I ain’t proud to have fallen in with ‘em. The leader is about to do somethin’ ugly, and I’m keepin’ you from bein’ near it. Please don’t fight me right now, okay?” His voice was low.
Mac shook his head, pulling away enough to look at Jack closely for the first time. His blue eyes were frantic, and his beautiful face was sunken in from an untold number of skipped meals and no rest. Jack cupped his face gently, remorse already coloring his expression.
Jack’s face had new scarring, deep lines of past pains that were unfamiliar to the younger man. One of the most prominent scars dashed through his left eyebrow and onto his cheek diagonally, but his eyes were still that beautiful brown that Mac had fallen in love with a lifetime ago. Mac reached up with a shaky hand, tracing that scar gently. “What’s going to happen?”
“Well, what the fuck do we have here, Jackie-boy?”
Negan had the tendency to make people jump when he spoke. He knew it and took joy in it, doing it purposefully whenever possible. This was one of those times. “I’ll tell you what the fuck is gonna happen. I’m going to kill one of your friends over there,” he explained with an easy grin, gesturing behind them with Lucille. “Not you, you’ve been excused. Apparently, Jack does like blonds, just titless. You could’ve told me that, Dalton. I’m an accepting man.”
Jack wrapped his arms tighter around Mac, like proximity was the key to survival right then. Mac was getting the feeling it might be. Jack smiled, shrugging a little. “Nah, I only like this blond. Sorry, I wasn’t expectin’ to see him… ever. I’m gonna take him back to the Sanctuary on my bike, ‘s long as you don’t need me.”
Negan eyed Mac, an easy grin still in place. “He gonna be a problem, Dalton?”
“Not a bit,” Jack promised immediately, somehow matching Negan’s easy-going tone.
“I wanna hear it from him. What’s your name?” Negan asked Mac, eyes locked. Mac felt dizzier than he had before.
“I’m MacGyver. I won’t be a problem,” Mac said as steadily as he could, feeling a prickle on the back of his neck.
“The MacGyver? Jack, I know you’ve been holdin’ out on me with your stories,” Negan teased, stepping closer. “You never said you stuck your dick in your bomb nerd.”
Mac did his best not to flinch. He hadn’t been called that in so long, and to hear it from someone other than Jack was jarring. Jack was all but holding Mac up at that point, feeling weaker by the second. It was like Mac’s body knew it was safe and was finally surrendering to itself.
“My bad,” Jack said with a matching grin. “We good to go? He needs medical, ‘m pretty sure he’s dehydrated, and I know he needs to eat. I’ll tell you all those stories back at Sanctuary?”
Negan chuckled, slinging Lucille over his shoulder. “Yeah, you will! See you at home, Dalton. Or is it Daltons?” He winked at Mac playfully.
Jack wrapped a more obviously supportive arm around Mac’s middle now that he was sure Negan wasn’t in a bad mood. “We hyphenated,” Jack answered with a self-surprising honesty. “I’ll see you back home, boss.” Jack nodded at Negan before leading Mac away, giving the ‘stage’ a wide berth.
As soon as he was sure no one could hear them, Jack exhaled a deep breath. “Thank you, baby. Thank you for listenin’. You’ll be okay, I’m gonna take you somewhere safe and get you looked at by our doctor, okay?” He was all but babbling as he led Mac to a motorcycle. “Can you hold onto me? For just a little bit, baby?”
Mac gripped onto Jack’s shirt, tugging on it. “Jack, you can’t let him kill anyone; it’s a good group of people,” he tried weakly.
Jack helped Mac onto the back of his bike before getting on quickly. Mac wrapped his arms around Jack as tightly as he could while Jack started the bike. “I’m sorry, baby. I can’t do anything to stop what he’s gonna do. Right now, all I care about is getting you somewhere safe. That’s all I can do right now. You hold on as tight as you can, okay?”
As soon as Mac tugged on a handful of the front of his shirt, Jack took off.
Mac was able to hold on until they made it safely past the gates of the Sanctuary, but he didn’t remember any of it. Everything was a gray blur that only faded away once he felt the prick of a needle in the crook of his arm. Blinking a few times as he lifted his head, Mac looked at an older man in confusion, only leaving it alone because Jack was holding his hand.
“Good evening, Mr. MacGyver. I’m Dr. Carson. I’m just helping you rehydrate and kick any infection you might have lingering around from a life out there. Jack was very clear to take preventative care for you.” He said it with a forced, insincere smile. Mac’s eyebrows drew together as he lay back against the bed.
“Thanks, ‘m fine though. Not sick.”
“Mac, just let him do it. Don’t argue.” Jack squeezed his hand gently a few times, rubbing his knuckles to try to soothe him. Mac just nodded, squeezing Jack’s hand back, three times.
By the look on his face, Jack apparently had not realized what he’d been doing. Before, it had been a way to say ‘I love you’ to each other without words. It’d been years since either man had done it, but it was still effortless.
Mac smiled weakly, letting the somewhat angry tone of Dr. Carson turn into a background droning. Jack would listen for the important stuff.
----
Mac woke up slowly, fingers flexing in the sheets below him. This bed was much better than the one he’d fallen asleep on. Jack wasn’t holding his hand anymore, though, so the quality of the bed didn’t matter much. He sat up slightly, looking around and blinking slowly.
Jack was standing in a kitchenette area, his back to Mac. He was humming something quietly, instantly relaxing the younger man. Mac cleared his throat to let the other man know he was awake.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” Jack greeted, turning around with a glass of water in one hand. “Don’t get up yet.” He brought the water over and helped Mac take a slow sip, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”
“Did Carson fucking drug me?” Mac asked, grimacing a little.
“Yeah, kinda. He ‘figured you’d need it’ and added in something to ‘take the edge off’.”
“Did you kick his ass?”
Jack’s laugh was loud and warm. It was home.
“Yeah, I punched him in the gut,” Jack said with a grin, setting the water aside. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not sorry I’m here with you,” Mac retorted simply, grabbing the other man’s hand. “I’m… really confused about this place and how you got here. How I got here, too, I guess.”
Jack chuckled, rubbing his thumb over Mac’s. “You had me worried, baby. You were so out of it. But after watchin’ you sleep about 12 hours, I figured it out. How long since you’d slept, baby?”
Mac shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. You didn’t watch me sleep the whole time, did you?”
“Nah. When I had to leave, I had a note set out for you to find, though. Didn’t want you gettin’ scared.”
Mac slid over on the bed, making room for the older man. “Lay down with me?”
“Of course.” Jack immediately kicked his shoes off and got under the blanket.