Chapter Text
There were these kinds of days when you really should've stayed in bed.
Today was such a kind of day. A day, that could've easily been avoided by staying in bed because your gut feeling told you so.
Unfortunately, in their job, there was no such thing as just staying home.
–International security and so on.
They were running through the woods, their suspect fleeing.
Riley wished he would just stumble and fall so they could finally get home.
Unfortunately, this guy had a background in parkour and was zigzagging through the woods at a dizzying speed.
“Seriously, he should have pursued an Olympic career, instead of a criminal one” Riley mumbled to herself.
And just like that, he slid down a cliff, and Mac, right behind her, was just able to grab and hold her, before she tumbled down the 65 feet tall wall of earth. That would have not been pretty.
But what followed was even less pretty, it was the moment when it all went wrong.
When the gut feeling -that had spread its thorns through her chest ever since this morning- proved itself to be right.
Riley would never forget the moment that this guy below them, locked eyes with her, the metal in his hand glistening threatenly, and before she could react, he had fired.
She felt the pain of the bullet grazing her arm before she heard the shot, a hiss escaping her.
But that wasn't the worst part. So far from it…
In a threatening dark rush of burning hot and icy cold down her back, Riley remembered that Mac had been right behind her, barely more than a foot away, and that the bullet, which had been shot at an upwards angle, was not stuck in her arm.
It had kept going, hitting and lodging itself into whatever was behind her.
Which was… Mac.
It all happened in a matter of seconds, even less than that, yet as she whipped around, it felt like all time slowed down. Like the earth had stopped turning.
The horrible sight in front of her would be burned in her mind forever. One that would haunt her dreams for a long time and have her wake up gasping and in tears.
Mac stood there, a gaping hole on the right side of his forehead, blood pouring from it, covering the side of his face, soaking his hair and shirt.
His blue eyes were wide and horribly vacant.
And in the blink of an eye, his body just crumpled to the floor of the forest, like all of his muscles had just given up, a grunt like sound escaping him as the force of the fall pushed all the remaining air out of his lungs.
Riley couldn’t hear it over her own scream, as she dropped down next to him, her heart painfully lurching in her chest., “No, no, no… Mac.”
This couldn't be, this had to be a nightmare.
Her trembling hands reached out, just to pull back, almost afraid to touch him. God, there was so much blood, running onto the floor of the woods now, soaking the brown and greens turning it all a bright crimson.
Shaking, with tears in her eyes, Riley reached out, placing her fingers on his neck, trying to find a pulse, even though, rationally she knew it was useless.
The only thing she would feel was her own pulse.
She gently cradled his face, the open blue of his eyes, horribly empty, the dark trees and the skies above them mirrored in the glistening of them.
“Mac…” her voice was a toneless, broken whisper.
This just couldn't be. He couldn't have been killed just like that, in such a nonchalant way, by the one thing he hated most in the world.
Her breath stalled, heart stumbling. Hot tears pooling and burning behind her eyes, her chest growing tighter each second.
He didn't deserve this, he had deserved so much better. He had been such a good person, the best man she's ever known, the kindest man with the most beautiful heart. The man she loved, yet he'd never know. He had done everything to make this earth a better place, yet it had just slapped and laughed at him over and over again, He would have had every reason to be mad at the world, yet he wasn't, he…
There was a slow blink of him, one that Riley didn't even quite register at first, a quiet groan, his hand shakily reaching out for her.
Riley screamed again, because HOW was this possible? How the hell was he alive with a fucking bullet in his brain?
She scrambled back a bit, scared out of her mind, not knowing what was happening. It made no sense at all.
Did the bullet miss the vital parts of his brain? Was he alive, but just a shell of himself, a vegetable, unable to move or talk or do anything? Trapped in his body like a zombie?
That honestly would have been worse for him. So much worse than death, and she knew that.
Mac blinked again, another breathy, clicky sound escaped his throat, and seconds later another groan came followed, one of pain, his eyes slamming shut and jaw clenching tightly.
Riley instantly, hecticly shuffled towards him again, cradling his bloody face with her hands once again.
“Mac, hey… Mac, can you hear me?” Her shaky voice was a mix of desperation, fear and the tiniest spark of hope.
He slowly blinked his eyes open again, looking at her, his eyes sluggishly focusing on her.
“Riles.” his voice was slurry, clouded with pain.
The boulder of relief that fell from her heart at that moment was the size of the sun.
A cracked squeak of alleviation. “God, Mac.”
He said her name again, and he was trying to move when a horrible thought crossed Riley's mind, feeling like a gut punch, ripping all the air and hope out of her without the slightest glimpse of mercy.
He was alive right now, but the bullet was very much still in there, and if it got jostled and moved just the slightest bit, pushing itself deeper, it could be over.
For real this time.
Panicked, she put her hands, now soaked in his blood to his shoulder and chest, pushing him back,
“Don't move, don't move—Jesus Christ, Mac, STAY DOWN!” her voice was raw.
He met her eyes, somehow understanding what she was thinking.
He was trying to reach out to her, and she could see it in his eyes when something hit him.
“Riles,” he said again shakily, swallowing convulsively, “I… I can't move my hands, not the way I want them to”
Riley wanted to cry at that.
Because firstly, he was awake and alert.
But secondly. His hands. His most important tool.
She reached out, grabbing his hand. It was so cold. It felt so wrong. “Can you feel that?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Okay, so that means there is no nerve damage right? Just that bullet putting some pressure on your brain and as soon as it's out you'll be able to use your hands again.”
Riley didn't know if that was true, but she really hoped it was.
“We need to get you out of here.” she finally said, dread in her voice, because they had no phones and it was a 3 mile walk to the car.
Usually a non issue, but not with Mac having a bullet stuck there.
Riley swiftly ripped off the left arm of her shirt, purposely ignoring the blood on her right one. Her gaze was nothing against Mac's injury.
“I'll have to try to slow that bleeding first, okay? But you don't move, okay? Let me do all the work. Got it?”
“Got it.” His voice was barely there, and Riley really, really didn't like how pale he was.
“Okay,” she said then, clearing her throat. I'll try to get you up now, we need to get to the car.” she paused. “But we gotta go slow, do you hear me? I don't wanna do more damage. And if you feel dizzy or anything else, tell me, so we can sit you down, because I don't know if I can hold you if you collapse on me.”
“Okay.” Mac's voice was still so quiet. It sounded so scared and broken and nothing like his usual steady self. It made the whole situation even more scary.
Riley hated it. Carefully, she put one of her hands behind his shoulder, the other one behind his neck, pulling him into a sitting position.
Mac tried to suppress a sound of pain, but Riley heard it anyway. It shot through her soul and made her wince in sympathy.
His eyes fell to her bleeding Arm. “Riley you're hurt.” his voice was so concerned, it was almost funny.
Riley didn't find it very funny right now though, something like fury rising inside of her. “Mac, gosh dang it, I am not the one with a fucking bullet in my head!”
“You're still hurt,” he raspily said, “and it won't do us good if your injury causes issues. Then both of us might die.”
His words were so blatant, his eyes, even though clouded with pain, still held that genuine concern.
How he still managed to look like a little puppy while covered in blood and with a hole in his head was beyond her.
Riley sighed, ripping off the other arm of her blouse, wrapping up her own wound, wincing at the pressure.
“Happy now?”
“Yeah.”
Riley could have sworn he had smiled.
She helped him stand up, his legs wobbly and his arms uncoordinated.
She was at his right.
She rather would have been at his left, at his uninjured, yet weaker side, but her own injury prevented that.
“Lean on me,” she said firmly, “slow steps… and no playing hero, you hear me Mac? If you need a break you tell me, understood? And don't lie to yourself either, you can't trust your brain right now.”
He just nodded.
It took them over an hour to reach the car.
Usually, in their ‘prime’ they would have made these 3 miles in just a little over 30 minutes.
Mac had needed a few breaks, his steps and words getting slurrier the further they came. He could still talk, but it was getting more mumbly and also less way then usual, and considering the situation, it concerned Riley even further.
Riley opened the door for Mac, maneuvering him into the seat and buckling him up, before she slid into the driver's seat, grabbing the emergency phone from the glove box.
“Hey Matty? I need the route to the nearest hospital with a neurosurgery department. You need to tell them we're coming in with a GSW to the head.”
It was quiet for half of a second before shuffeling started in the background.
“I'll send the route to your phone, -Riley, what happened.”
Riley started the car, snapping the phone into the designated holder, the route already pulled up.
“Our guy escaped. We were following him and he shot at us. The bullet hit Mac. He is alive and mostly awake, but the bullet is still stuck, he's having motor issues and is slowly declining mentally.”
She ignored his weakly protesting “Hey!”
Riley could hear the sharp breath Matty was taking before answering. “All right. The hospital is informed. I'll call Bozer and Desi and put them on the next flight. They'll be with you in 2 hours tops.”
“Thank you, Matty.” Riley pulled into the street, “I've gotta go now.”
She hung up, her fingers flexing around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as she gradually sped up.
“Hey Mac, you gotta stay awake, you hear me.”
“Hmm.”
“Don't fall asleep,” Riley begged tensly, “Tell me about science.”
Mac made a noise that Riley could only describe as ‘groggy Macsplaining mode activated’ before he started talking.
“Well uh, if I could take an educated guess I'd say the bullet is stuck in between, um, my skull and my parietal lobe. That would explain the apraxia. It might also have grazed my frontal lobe, maybe it penetrated the dura matter… But it doesn't seem too deep, otherwise I obviously wouldn't be talking right now… but the… blood loss could also cause my words to… thingamajig, you know… but I'm alive soo, uh… in conclusion good?”
Riley exhaled. “When I turned and saw you… I honestly thought you were dead, before you even hit the ground.”
Mac made a pained noise again. “I actually… wondered how I was able to hear the sound. Usually when you get hit in the head like that…” he paused. “I should've been… gone before my brain could even register the sound.”
“But you're not.”
“Yeah, but…” he let out another pained sigh, “brain surgery is really risky and…”
“No!” Riley interrupted him, you will make it, you hear me? I swear Mac, if you die on me, I will bring you back to life just to kill you myself.”
Mac gave her a bloody smile. “That… makes no sense.”
He paused, looking over at her, his eyes and voice suddenly a little clearer, as if he was gathering his entire strength. “Riley, I need to tell you some things… in case I don't make it.”
Riley's whole body tensed up so hard that her jaw clicked and her knuckles turned white. “No. You will make it. Tell me after. You're not speaking this into existence.”
“Okay but,” he swallowed. “If I don't, there is a hard drive in my locker at the Phoenix… I know you probably don't need the password but… it's 09232016, it's…”
“September 23, 2016. The day we met, I remember.”
It was quiet again before Mac spoke up. “How long until we're at the hospital? I don't wanna scare you, but I'm feeling really dizzy and it's getting… harder to stay awake. I think… I think my brain might be swelling.”
Riley bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. “The phone says 10, but we'll make it in 5… stay the fuck awake, Angus, you hear me.”
“Hmm…”
“Hey!” Riley almost yelled.
“‘m tryin, Riles… but it hurts so much. I..
I just want it to stop.”
“I know, Mac, I know.” Riley felt hot tears burn in the back of her eyes. “But I need you Mac. I'll always need you, so please, please stay awake. I swear to everything I believe in, I can't lose you. It would kill me. We promised each other we would never be alone.”
It wasn't not the I love you she wanted to say, but it was almost like Mac understood.
“You never left me and I am beyond thankful for that…” he took a slow breath. “I'll try to hold up my end of the deal… but please don't be mad if I can't.”
He uncoordinatedly held out his hand, Riley gently taking it as they rolled into the hospital parking lot, the waiting, prepared staff waiting in front of the entrance.
“Just know that, I trust and love you implicitly, Riles.”
Mac felt like his entire body and brain was made of mashed potatoes. The sticky kind, with cheese in it.
Everything hurt. His head felt like it had taken a sledgehammer, which, okay fair, felt somewhat reasonable.
And he felt cold, so unbelievably cold.
He had been stripped of all his bloody clothes and stuck in a scratchy gown. They had poked and prodded him and he had catheters in both of his hands now, itchy monitoring patches on his chest.
They had done a neurological exam and he really, really hadn't liked the way their faces had looked during it.
And now they were shoving him into a CT.
Everything around him seemed kind of slow and blurry now, the dizziness creeping from his head into his fingertips.
How feeling like that was even possible was beyond him.
And the pain. That was the worst part. And he knew they couldn't sedate him just yet before they had a clear imaging, so they wouldn't accidentally mask his symptoms and miss something crucial…
Gosh, why was he so dizzy? He felt so weak, the lights felt almost blinding, piercing in his eyes, the strong smell of antiseptic stinging in his nose.
He wondered what Riley was doing right now. He really hoped she would let them take care of her arm…
A doctor pulled back the curtain that divided the room that Mac and her had been placed in earlier.
Mac had been gone for a bit already, only the cut off bloody clothes and plastic packages on the floor remaining.
“Ms. Davis,” the Doctor said, “I'll just take a quick look at your arm.”
“I'm fine,” Riley said quickly. “How's Mac?”
The doctor, a lady in her late fifties with some grey streaks in her auburn hair softly chuckled. “He’s still being treated, and probably off to imaging by now. But I still need to look at your arm.”
“You should be with him right now,” Riley protested, “he needs every available doctor right now.”
“Oh, Honey,” the doctor said, motherly, in an accent that Riley only now recognized as texan, “I couldn't help him if I wanted to, I'm not a neurologist. And let me tell you something, if he is even half as concerned about you as you are about him, he would want you to get checked out, don't ya think?”
Maybe it was because she reminded Riley so much of Jack -Motherhen- Dalton, but she finally agreed, letting the Doctor take care of her arm.
Riley hissed as the Doctor disinfected her wound.
“I feel like I caused this,” she murmured.
The Doctor, gently rolling some gauze on Riley's arm, looked up. “How so?”
Riley exhaled. “I think my arm diverted the bullet so it hit him in the head.”
The older lady, finishing up the dressing, rolled back a little in her saddle chair. “No. I think you might actually have saved his life.”
Riley blinked. “How so?”
The doctor chuckled off her gloves. “Well, I may not be a neurologist, but I'm damn good at math. So, the bullet hitting your arm, diverted the angle ever so slightly to the right, so the bullet hit in a place that didn't mean instant death. If it hadn't grazed you, it would have went straight ahead, hitting him front and center. Not to mention, the graze probably slowed it down too, preventing further damage.”
Riley exhaled, blinking tears away.
“It's not the first time he's in danger, not even the first time he was critically hurt, that just happens with our job… can't tell you more about that, but… today, I really thought I lost him for good.”
“Well you didn't, dear. And he might have a tough time ahead, but with you at his side I have no doubt he'll pull through.”
“Thank you.” Riley whispered gratefully, before the doctor left the room.
Riley hopped off the bed, wandering over to the other one, gathering Mac's ruined, bloody clothes.
His shirt still had her handprint on the chest, right above his heart.
She remembered the way he had looked at her in the car, right as they arrived and what he had said.
“Just know that I trust and love you implicitly, Riles.”
He hadn't meant it like that, right?
Mac clearly had been out of his mind, with his brain swelling or whatever, caught up in the moment, and said it in a simply platonic way, even if his wording reminded her a little too much of their conversation on the flight back from Banja Luka…
But it didn't mean anything more than platonic gratitude…
Still, once he had this bullet out of his head, she would tell him everything she felt.
She had to. She couldn't live with the thought of him not knowing. The thought of never having said anything.
The thought of having lied to him.
So far Riley had always denied her own feelings, telling Mac in Banja Luka that they were gone for good.
They weren't. They had never been gone.
She didn't want to tell Mac, scared that it might ruin their friendship. After Mexico City she should have known better to be honest.
Why she hadn't confessed to him after he broke up with Desi and after he had flatlined and almost died in the hyperbaric chambers was beyond her. But, seeing Mac with that hole in his head, the way his eyes had been so empty.. that flicked a switch in her.
It was like a second chance. If he would pull through at least.
Gosh, he had too. She couldn’t lose him after all of that.
A knock at the door frame had her ripped out of her thoughts.
“Ms. Riley Davis?”
Riley jumped up. “Yes that's me! Is Mac okay?”
“I gather that you are Mr. MacGyvers medical proxy?”
“I am.”
The Doctor, that looked ridiculously similar to Bruce Willis, just with hair, gestured her to follow him.
“Come along. We'll have to discuss his treatment plan, and I'll need you to sign a few forms before we’ll take him to surgery.”
Riley walked behind him, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.
Had Mac really that far declined that he couldn't make his own decisions anymore?
Finally they came to his room, and Riley wanted to cry.
Mac looked so small in the hospital bed, his skin beyond pale, almost seeming translucent, so many wires coming from his body, a drip of saline and anti-inflammatory meds running into both of his hands. An oxygen cannula in his nose, his head wrapped in gauze.
He slowly blinked at the noise of them coming in, the blue of his eyes dull and weak.
Mac opened his mouth, but it took him a moment to rearrange his tongue and talk. “Riles!”
Riley sat down next to him, gently taking his hand. “Shh, Mac it's okay, I'm here.”
The doctor stepped towards the end of the bed. “He insisted on having you here Ms. Davis. Now, this is quite urgent, so I'd like to discuss how we'll continue.”
He opened up his tablet to Mac's CT Scan.
“As you can see, the bullet is lodged between the skull and the parietal lobe, There's also a possibility that it grazed the frontal lobe, but fortunately, there doesn't appear to be any significant damage in that area. However, the bullet is currently exerting pressure on the brain, which has led to swelling- this accounts for the worsening of your symptoms. Our immediate plan is to drill a few burr holes in your skull to relieve the intracranial pressure. Once the swelling has subsided, we'll proceed with a more extensive procedure to remove the bullet safely. In the meantime, we'll place you in a medically induced coma and lower your body temperature- a process known as therapeutic hypothermia. This will help reduce metabolic demand, support the healing process, and minimize further swelling.”
Riley looked over at Mac. “You understood that?”
Mac nodded ever so slightly. “Hmm.”
“You okay with all of that?”
“...yes.”
Riley took the forms and the pen from the doctor. “I'll sign this then.”
She looked at the Doctor. “Can we have one minute?”
He nodded, leaving the room, not before telling her that he'd be picked up shortly.
Riley sighed, a thick knot in her throat. She had to ask Mac something.
“Uh, Mac, listen. I know in your medical file you have it documented that in the case that you're only being kept alive by machines or if it was guaranteed that upon waking up you'd have a very lowered quality of life or significant difficulty with moving, you'd like to be taken off of life support.” She swallowed. “And I need to know if that decision still stands or if you want to live either way. I need to know so I can advocate for you if the doctors or the team want something different.”
It was hard to even talk about this. But she had to.
Mac had understood, teary eyed himself.
It took him a while to speak. “F-fight for me. But… after 2 weeks… let me go… please.”
Riley choked out a sob. “I will. I promise.”
She heard steps in the hallway coming towards them, and stood up, gently squeezing his hand.
She leaned down, studying his face before placing the feather lightest kiss on his cheek.
“See you on the other side, Mac.”
“... we will, Riles… one way or another.”