#and so finally matty just swats at him like i can get up by myself

[ratatatastic]

both mikksy and monty raising their hands up for the interference call after lindhom bowled matty over

and both of them skating over to help matthew up nicely but hes being a brat about is forever in my heart

but also mikkola immediately going into guard dog mode and waving his stick at any b that dares to get any closer to matthew so that he stays guarding the front while monty stays guarding the back meanwhile benny just skates to guard the flank IS THE ICING ON THE CAKE YOU ARE ACTING LIKE YOUR DEAR PRISSY PRINCESS NARROWLY ESCAPED AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT (this is basically what happened)

this is perfection its art

florida panthers @ boston bruins game 4 | 5.12.24

[sydsaint]

could you do something with matt jackson where the reader gets a minor injury from the bcc and he and the rest of the elite finally return to help her?

Love this idea! Heel/Protective Bucks r my fav. Hope you enjoy !

It was just supposed to be a routine night on Dynamite. You had a match against Julia Hart scheduled for the middle of the show after you and Julia had exchanged some words backstage a few days ago. Nothing you haven't done before. 

The trouble came after you managed to pull a win from Julia. You'd been minding your own business in the ring, enjoying your hard-fought victory when the BCC music hit. You've never had any beef with anyone in the BCC. But they descended to the ring like rabid dogs anyways. 

"Umm, can I help you?" You'd made the mistake of standing your ground when Moxley approached you. 

"You can get out of our ring." Moxley spits back at you. "Playtime is over. The men are in the ring now." He'd sneered at you. 

Never one to back down from a fight, even if it's one that you know you can't win. You stood your ground. "I'll leave when I'm good and ready thanks." You dared to challenge Moxley. And he didn't like that one bit. 

Before you even had a chance to get another word out, Bryan Danielson had already stepped up to the plate. He'd grabbed your arm and yanked you forward and onto your knee's before you even registered that he'd moved from Jon's side. Being half their side and caught off guard, Bryan easily kicked you around before dumping you over the top rope of the ring and sending you crashing down to the floor. You'd hit your head on the way down obviously, because the next thing you remember is being in the infirmary. 

How in the hell did you get yourself into this mess?

"Y/N?!" Matt's voice makes you open your eyes back in the medical room. 

"Matty?" You groan as you sit up, head throbbing in pain. 

You blink a couple of times in the harsh light of the infirmary. When your vision finally focuses, Matt is at your side and coddling you like his helpless baby girl. "Y/N? Oh my gosh! Are you alright? The doc said that you hit your head. What happened?" He asks you. 

"Matt." You groan again. But Matt doesn't shut up. "Matthew!" You warn again and this time Matt falls silent. "I'm okay, honestly." You assure him and push him back a bit by the chest to give yourself some space. "My head is just a bit tender is all. As for what happened. It was Moxley and all his dumb BCC buddies." 

"What?" Matt replies in a mix of shock and anger. "Why in the hell would Mox and his buddies want with you?" He asks you. 

You shrug, starting to regain your strength now. "I mean, I was kind of mouthing off in the ring. Just a little bit." You admit with a small laugh. 

"Y/N!" Matt scolds you. 

"What?" You reply. "They started it, Matty." You insist. "I was just minding my own business in the ring after my watch with Julia when they showed up. It's not my fault." You cross your arms in a pout. 

Matt lets out a sigh and shakes his head. He steps forward again and kisses your temple before he turns back to Nick and Kenny standing off to the side of the room. "Hey, you two want to help me defend my wife's honor?" He asks. 

"We've got your back." Nick nods and pushes off the wall.

"Anything for, Y/N." Kenny agrees with a lighthearted chuckle. 

Matt, Nick, and Kenny all gather up and head for the door. And, not about to be left out of the action, you hop off the medical table and walk over to them. Matt puts his hand out to stop you, but you swat it away. "I can defend myself, thanks, honey." You insist. 

"Baby, you're hurt." Matt reminds you. 

"It was one minor spill." You remain stubborn. "I'm fine. Right, doc?" You turn to the doctor to prove your point.

The doctor shrugs and glances down at his whiteboard. "There's no sign of a concussion that I can see. And you seem perfectly aware of your surrounding, Mrs. Jackson." He adds. 

"See!" You point at the doctor. "I'm fine, Matty. So let's go." 

Knowing that he can't stop you if the doctor says that your're alright, Matt grumbles to himself and lets you pass him. You grin to yourself and everyone heads out to find where the BCC is so you can get some revenge. 

With the gang all rallied together, it doesn't take long for you to find the BCC locker room. The boys stand at the ready and you knock on the door. A few seconds later, Wheeler Yuta is the one to open the door. "Hi, Wheeler." You flash a smile at the youngest BCC member before delivering a swift kick to his torso. 

Wheeler falls back into the locker room with a loud grunt and you step back to let Matt, Nick, and Kenny all rush the room and take care of business. Chaos ensues in the locker room and you help out where you can while the boys do most of the work. While you're busy helping Nick with Claudio, you hear Matt threatening Jon on the other side of the room. 

"You think it's funny to assault my wife like that?" Matt beats on Jon with a ferocity that you rarely see in him. 

"You got this, Nick?" You turn back to Nick and he nods. 

You hurry across the room to where Matt is still beating Jon senselessly and reach down to grab his shoulder. "Matty, it's okay. He's had enough." You pull Matt up and away from Jon. "Matt, come on." 

Matt's nostrils flare as he stands up straight. You step between him and Moxley on the floor and hug him tightly. "Keep away from my wife, Moxley," Matt warns Mox from over your shoulder as he hugs you back. "Come on baby, let's go home." He lets you go and grabs your hand. 

"One second." You nod and turn around to look at Jon just as he starts to pick himself off of the floor. You kick Mox in the stomach as hard as you can and he crumbles back down to the floor. "Alright, I'm ready." You turn back to Matt. 

Matt beckons Nick and Kenny to the door and everyone heads out, leaving the BCC a mess on their locker room floor. Matt kisses your cheek as you walk off and you intertwine your hands together with a smile on your face. 

Justice served. 

[hockeybabestars]

Can you write something about cuddling with mat Barzal?

a/n: so sorry this took a hot minute, but I was moving into my sorority house and getting things together for rush/school!! I hope you enjoy! also this kinda got out of hand so..

word count: 1.6k

I turned in my bed for the upteenth time tonight. I couldn’t figure it out… Was it that I was too hot? Too cold? Uncomfortable? Not tired? I just couldn’t go to sleep, and not just tonight. Every night for the past week I’ve had trouble falling asleep. I’ve tried everything imaginable. From sleepy time tea, to melatonin, to staying off my electronics an hour before bed. The only thing that seemed to be working was Mat. I had called him a few times to talk me to sleep and I guess the sound of his voice just did the trick, and it may or may not have calmed me just to know that he was there if I needed him.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and debated texting him as I padded into the kitchen of my tiny New York apartment. The screen lit up at 2:23 am and I groaned as I rubbed a hand down my face. The tile was cool against my feet and I poured myself some water. I knew he was sound asleep right now after the tiring road trip the Islanders had, and he probably has practice in the morning, but right now he seems like the only plausible solution.

Maybe it was slightly selfish, to want to hear his voice in my head as I fell asleep every night, but this was the closest I would ever get to sleeping by his side. The crush I had on him felt far too obvious at times and I wondered how he didn’t see it. Or maybe he did and was just choosing to ignore it. Every time I became too hopeful, I reminded myself of the best friend parameters. Just because he lulls you to sleep every night with his deep soothing voice, or is down for a marathon of The Office whenever you’re sad, or hangs out in your apartment to make dinner, does not mean he’s into you.

He picked up on the second ring, which in my personal opinion is a little too fast for ‘asleep in bed at 2 in the morning’.

“Hey,” his voice was scratchy, “Can’t sleep?”

“How’d you guess?”

“I was waiting for your call earlier but I assumed since you didn’t call me, that you actually fell asleep on your own this time.” I felt bad for waking him up but I could already start to feel myself relax. It felt like some sort of spell that I was in whenever he was near. And I wanted more.

“I thought I could wean myself off of you but I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Wean yourself off?” He laughed and I could picture the crinkles by his eyes. “What am I to you some sort of drug?

I laughed too, “My own personal brand of melatonin.” He chuckled and eased into conversation, he knew exactly how to put me to sleep. “So the trip was really long without you.”

My ears perked up at that and suddenly I was craving more than just his voice, “Yeah?”

“I know it was only five days but I think next time you should just come with me.”

“Mat.” I interrupted, but he rambled. “-I think you’ll really enjoy the west coast.”

“Mat!” I said a little louder, garnering his attention.

“What?” The line went silent for a second and I felt small so I mumbled it a little, “Come over.” I could feel the hammering of my heart against my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for his words, even though I couldn’t see his reaction over the phone.

“Wait say that again.” He breathed.

“Come over.”

It was awfully quiet on his end, and I almost regretted saying something, until I didn’t.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

“How are you going to get here in-” And the line went dead.

I heard a knock at the door in precisely 10 minutes and I was impressed. Mat lived at least 20 minutes away, and New York traffic didn’t hardly stop.

I swung the door open to Mat leaning against the frame, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips with a white t-shirt that seemed to ride up his abs and I quickly adjusted my gaze up to his eyes. A lazy smile graced his face. “Are you going to invite me in or am I sleeping on the porch tonight?”

I released a chuckle and playfully swatted him as he came in, tossing his keys on the white marble of the kitchen counter while I made us some tea.

“So long road trip huh?”

I saw a slight blush creeping up his cheeks but he quickly looked elsewhere as he mumbled a soft “Yeah.” And a hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

“You looked good in Vegas, that game was sick. That spin move you did was amazing.”

He shook his head humbly, as if he couldn’t believe that I watched and paid attention to the details. But I always pay attention to Mat. It’s hard not to. “Thanks (Y/N).” But I saw his lips curve up at the corner of his mouth. I went to hand him his mug but pulled back just as he was about to take it, “Honey?”

He nodded and I fixed our drinks up. The warm mug felt good against my cold hands as we carried them into my room, the only light coming from the bedside lamp. I sat my tea down and patted the spot next to me but he seemed hesitant. “What? you think I was gonna ask you over and then make you sleep on the couch?” He laughed but got in bed beside me, both of us sitting up sipping our tea. It was a peaceful silence for a moment just the two of us, the glow of the lamp, the slight nerves I got from sitting so close to him. We finished off our drinks and pulled the covers up, warming the both of us up. “Mat?” I asked a little sheepishly, only getting a “hmm?” in response as his eyelids flutter shut. “Come snuggle me.” I smiled and he opened his eyes and laughed again, and the sound was music to my ears. I turned around and lifted my head up, as he snuck an arm around me and pulled me closer by my waist with the other one. Our legs entangled as his warmth heat up my limbs and lulled me to a serene state. You would think my body would be alarmed at the fact that I was pressed snuggly up against him in a king sized bed, but I had been so sleep deprived that his mere presence was knocking me out. Which is a scary thing.

I can't need him to fall asleep every night, it’s not fair to the both of us.

I felt my eyelids get heavy and sleep was about to over take me when I heard him say my name. “Yeah Mat?”

“...How come you always end up calling me when you can’t fall asleep?”

My once slow and steady heartbeat became a little quicker and my breath caught in my throat. “I..uh..Your voice is the only thing that really calms me down enough to go sleep. I guess it’s like I can be vulnerable with you.” I held my breath waiting for the answer but he only pulled me tighter against him.

“I’m glad you asked me over.” He whispered, his breath dancing across my neck.

“You are?” I was in a daze it seemed, it felt like my words came out on their own accord.

“I like you, (Y/N). I like you a lot.” His words sounded nervous, but his actions screamed confident as his hand grazed up and down the exposed part of my torso, sending my head spinning.

“I like you too Mat.” I said as I turned to face him.

“No, I really like you.” Even now with sleep daring to grace his features he seemed so sure of himself, but I was the one who was unsure.

“I really like you too.” I said, but this time he slowly brought his lips to mine, he cupped my face lightly, almost like he didn’t want to break me. For such a gentle kiss I felt something fierce as his tongue lightly danced across my mouth, and I slightly whimpered into him. He broke away, leaning his forehead against mine, trying to catch his breath, “I’ve liked you for a while.”

I smiled, asking softly, “How long is a while?”

“Since Matty Marts wedding.”

“Mat that was months ago!”

“Yeah, but I knew. “ He breathed out, thumb brushing my cheek, “I know I only asked you because I needed a date last minute. And it was probably weird because I hadn’t seen you in a little bit because things got busy, but... I’m glad I did. I didn’t realise how much I missed you until you were standing opposite of me, twirling around and reminiscing about our younger years to make up for lost time. I need you” He had a gleam in his eyes I hadn’t noticed before, but he laughed as he finished “And you definitely need me. At least to go to sleep.”

“That was almost sweet.” I joked groggily. But planted a light kiss to his lips once again, “I’m glad I was your wedding date, because I missed you too.”

“Go to sleep.” He said sweetly and kissed my forehead.

“Only if you promise to sleep next to me every night.” I smiled.

“I think I can manage.”

And I finally had a good night's sleep, curled up with Mats arms wrapped around me.

[ruinmylifc]

𝙱𝚄𝚃  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝙽𝙾𝚆  𝙸𝚃'𝚂  𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝚁𝚄𝙽  »  𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦.

𝘞𝘏𝘖 : dante armstrong.

𝘔𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 : mateo serrano & emilio garcia ( + armstrong family )

𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘌 : 31st october 2019.

𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌 : between the outskirts of boston and ashcroft.

𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘠 : i should never have left you alone. 

𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁  𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 : mentions of serious injury, kidnapping and death.

nothing. two weeks on the hunt for the bastard and they have nothing. it’s not like dante to go nowhere with a lead but alas, that is exactly what has happened. of course, these things can take weeks, months even to flesh out yet dante doesn’t feel like he has that amount of time to spare. mateo’s already been staying with his family for three quarters of the year and the longer the fbi go without any significant arrests or anything important for that matter, he knows the relationship and trust he’s building with the boy will be deplete. not to mention what his family must be thinking, having a stranger in their house for so long with minimal explanation. they deserve it, the truth, yet for their protection he simply cannot allow it ― although, right now, protection doesn’t seem to be dante’s strongest suit. 

hand on his hip, the other rubbing along the short stubble growing along his jaw, dante stands in the temporary, makeshift office deep thought. there’s something odd about this situation they’re in ; emilio hasn’t been spotted once since they’ve been ‘on his back’ and the only ground the team have managed to cover are where he has been beforehand. deep in dante’s gut he can sense that something isn’t right, that coming out here perhaps was a waste of time and leaving mateo and his family vulnerable was a mistake. members of his team are talking to him, asking for their next move yet the supervisory agent is too lost in his own thoughts to hear them. a sense of foreboding washing over him as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he knows he has to answer it... but he just doesn’t want to. things have been too quiet and too smooth for too long, and dante has a hunch that whatever is waiting for him on the other end of his mobile is going to be the exact opposite of what he wants, no needs to hear. 

“ ‘scuse me.” he murmurs mindlessly to no one in particular, instead generally to the small group of agents before him. their chatter is not of importance, not when his gut is twisting and causing him mild discomfort and the ringtone finally processes through his brain. that’s the office. he spoke to the agents there earlier in the day, why would they be calling again? brows furrow as he rummages in his pocket, tugging out his iphone and taking a couple of steps away. not giving himself the chance to read the caller id, dante’s answering the call in a jiffy and his feet mindlessly wonder further away from the group.

“special agent armstrong.” his voice is deep and gravelly, body tense as he anticipates what is about to be thrown his way. thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait very long ( at all, actually ) for the person on the other end to give him him what he wants.

“dante, it’s patrick. we’ve lost signal on mateo’s tracker.” 

it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to pick up the urgency in patrick’s voice ; breathless and words borderline scrambled. the team know that joking around with such serious matters are a no go, even on april fools and holidays like halloween where things are automatically spooky, so dante’s stomach drops. they’ve lost the signal ― that doesn’t just happen. 

“what do you mean you’ve lost the signal?” disbelief sets in first, brows knitting inward as he attempts to process what this actually means. thing is, he knows what it means, but there’s a big part of him that hopes that it’s simply a technological failure.

“boss, one minute we knew his exact location and the next it was gone. no signal whatsoever and we’ve had no outage or ―” 

“you send me the location he was last seen immediately. i’ll make my way there myself and you get the swat team out looking. this could be emilio we’re dealing with so we need every agent on this, do you understand me?” this is why dante refrains from taking cases too personally, or getting too attached as something always seems to happen. unfortunately, he doesn’t always follow through with this. everybody knows dante will do anything to protect his family, and mateo is apart of that now. he will never understand to the true extent of what mateo has been through in his short time on earth, but he remembers exactly what he thought when he first met him. what if that was roarke. how could mateo be dealt such a tragic hand? what in the world made him deserve this? nothing. he doesn’t deserve it ; he deserves someone who will fight for him and that is what dante will do. 

holding the phone ear to shoulder as he fetches his suit jacket, dante’s already quite hurriedly making his way towards the entrance of the small space the fbi have hired out. patrick is rambling in his ear and as much as they should be, the words aren’t going through. all the man cares about is getting out there and finding mateo. there is a possibility that he has run away, but even if he has the danger he is exposed to is great. “you, you and you,” the agent mutters, clicking his fingers and pointing to the few agents he feels he can trust the most right now. “get your shit and head into the main office. patrick is going to send out the location of where mateo was last seen and i need every street camera viewed to see who the fuck was with him. this is urgent.” as if they couldn’t tell by the state of emergency in his voice and the way he’s storming for the exit. 

dante has always thought of worst case scenario, and now is no different. he has no care for what patrick is telling him, in fact he’s hanging up on him on his way to the car. emilio’s got him, mateo’s gonna die, he’s gonna come after my family. what ifs race through the man’s head a hundred miles an hour, all making him feel worse and worse as the seconds tick by ever so slowly. every second matters, and he feels like time is running out. 

how he manages to get out of the small area the team were in to the highway is unknown to dante as he’s simply running on the adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins. with mateo’s last whereabouts now up on his phone all he can think about as he speeds off is how he’s failed. he’s not even in ashcroft and he’s failed. he promised to keep the boy safe, promised he was going to do everything he can to put emilio behind bars yet he leaves for two weeks, acting on what appears to be a distraction and it’s all gone to shit. the boy could be dead already because he left him vulnerable, left him at home with a family that don’t even know the real reason why he’s there in the first place. 

not only has he left matty open to danger, but his family as well. if emilio knows he’s in ashcroft, then he would have to know where he’s been staying all this time. how could he be so stupid? leaving his wife and children defenceless ( even if his wife is a detective ). shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have done that, it all races through his head and causes a strong headache to irrupt. his heart feels like it’s going to thump out of his chest and the nausea he’s been feeling since the very second he answered his phone is worse with every second. 

“god, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” the apology is a mere murmur under his breath, the guilt inside gradually becoming too great. “mateo i’m so sorry.” it’s just dante in the car, but releasing those few words help ( slightly ), yet also are distracting him. he needs to be focused, keep himself from letting his own personal feelings get in the way. if emilio has captured mateo, then dante will want nothing more than to rip his head off... but he can’t. he can’t. he doesn’t want to lose his job and he’s seen what happens in the jails ; that’s not the life he thinks he’d be able to survive. as much as he would like to give the prick a piece of his mind, but the bastard will get what’s coming for him... he has to.

every other day the drive doesn’t feel overly long, yet tonight it’s agonisingly long. mateo could be dead already. it’s the only thing running through his head as all he can do is drive whilst breaking out in a cold sweat. a phone call from another agent sparks only slightly good news yet it does nothing to settle his thumping heart and churning gut ; at least he knows where mateo’s last been seen. seconds feel like hours, and the breeze coming through the window is the only thing keeping the threat of passing out at bay. “so fucking stupid, of course it was a distraction.” 

cussing and blaming himself alone in his car will do nothing for his mental health, but he cannot help it... he’s always been self-destructive. when he finally arrives, it’s just him, no other agents are there yet and in a way, that’s how he wants it. he’d rather it be him to have to fire the fatal bullet then anyone else on the team. car screeching to a halt as he pulls up, it’s evident that locking the car and even putting a bullet proof vest on are not of priority as dante’s investigating the area. loaded gun up at the ready, heart pounding in his ear, it’s the sight he soon comes across that makes his blood run cold. 

please, no. 

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

A Leg Up-Matty Healy Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: None

 “This is a good gig for you, Y/N. It will get you more exposure,” Anthony, my agent, assured me as we walked into the filming studio in central London.

   Glossy black and white photographs of British, Welsh, Scottish, and Irish movie giants lined the walls of the entrance. Everyone inside was tall, slim, and stylish, as was typical of the entertainment scene. However, music people were involved in the mix so they were either stylishly disheveled or wearing every expensive item they owned. After twenty years in the entertainment world, I knew that I did not get along with either type of musician: the first were usually Kurt Cobain wannabes and the second were only interested in flashing their money on social media and starting pointless drama. Unlike my peers, I took my job as an actress seriously and knew that I had to align myself with the right people and the right projects to be seen a certain way. So, after my teen show ended, my costars and I were in a precarious stage that would determine the rest of our careers. Some of my costars would fall into the party scene and no doubt wind up in rehab while others would take a few jobs here and there only to retire to a normal life. I refused to fall into either camp and knew that if I wanted to have a long career as an actress, I had to keep working and take the best jobs. Anthony knew that and lined up several auditions for big-budget films that would premiere after my show’s finale. I landed one of them, a dive into post-apolalyptic society, but I knew that I had to keep my name in people’s minds. When I tasked Anthony with getting me a good, press-inducing gig, he called me two days later, instructing me to get on a plane to London to shoot a music video.

   At first, I did not want to go and end up being another video girl, but I let Anthony persuade me and he continued persuading me when we met for brunch before leaving to the filming location.

   “But are you sure this is the right kind of exposure?” I asked as two tall, thin men in black and white uniforms opened the glossy glass doors that led to the smaller studios.

   “Of course!” Anthony glanced up from his BlackBerry. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

   I crossed my arms. “Must I remind you about the Care Bear incident?”

   Anthony rolled his moss green eyes. “That was a decade ago? Will you ever let me live that down?”

   “Not until it is completely scrubbed from the Internet,” I teased.

   Anthony grumbled. “Well, this will definitely make up for it. This band is very big, not only in the UK but all over the world. Everyone with a pulse will see this music video and wonder who that girl is, dancing to the 1975? And is that her in that trailer for that blockbuster? I have to see if she can really act.”

   “Fine, fine, I see your point.”

   Anthony paused at one of the doors and glanced at his silver Rolex. “We’re here and right on time.” 

   He opened the door, revealing what could only be the music video set. There were industrial lights illuminating a large stage, complete with proper band equipment. The stage stood high above the crowd that was made up of two hundred extras. Assistants in all-black rushed around the studio, huffing into walkie-talkies, and swatting extras away from the craft service table. 

 Anthony had sent me a brief email describing the concept of the video: the band was going to be playing at a gig and Matty’s love interest, me, was going to show up as a surprise. The song was “The Sound” and, from what I could gather, it was about a former relationship but there was still a connection between the couple. 

  A blonde woman in a black pinstripe suit walked up to us. “You must be Mr. Vincent and Miss Y/L/N,” she said in a curt Welsh accent.

   “Yes, that’s us,” Anthony said.

   “My name is Bridget, Bridget Waters, the casting director for this video.” Bridget looked me over with her cool gray eyes. “You look better in person. Now, you must go to hair and makeup.” 

   “Thank you.”  

   Bridget rushed me over to the hair and makeup section, where I was immediately surrounded by stunning, coiffed professionals. When they were done, there was no evidence that I was jetlagged. My y/h/t y/h/c y/h/l hair was blown out in shiny strands and soft to the touch. Once my makeup and hair were done, a petite brunette girl in the new Jason Wu dress put me in a pair of black patent leather pants, a tissue-thin blue blouse, and black Balenciaga knife boots. I was already tall but the boots made me tower over almost everyone.

 As if on cue, I heard my mother’s voice say,  “Remember, tall girls like you are swans, make everyone else feel like ducklings for even looking at you the wrong way.”

 I took a deep breath and straightened up my posture. As the stylist made some alterations, Anthony was barking orders on his phone in Portuguese. At the end of his conversation, his face was redder than usual. 

  “Thank you for being professional,” he said, “and you look good.”

  “You’re welcome and thanks?”

  A second later, a quiet roar took over the studio and that could only mean that the band had arrived. 

  “OI!” The director called, silencing the excited extras.

  “There’s no need for that, love,” Matty teased.

  It was the first time I ever heard his speaking voice and it sounded like velvet. I strolled away from Anthony and the stylist once she was done with the alterations, and saw Matty with the rest of the band. He was wearing an expensive-looking black button-down with black leather pants, ankle boots and a leather jacket. His bandmates were dressed similarly. I had seen pictures of them on social media and heard a few of their songs before, but I was not their biggest fan. However, I could respect their music and acknowledge that they were all better looking in person.

  Suddenly, Matty looked at me and quirked an eyebrow in my direction. He strolled over to me and extended his hand. “Hello, ‘m Matty.”

  I accepted his handshake, silently thanking myself that I decided to get a manicure the day before. “Y/N.”

  “I know you from somewhere.”

  “Oh, really? I didn’t think that someone like you would watch anything that I was in.”

   “Roxanne!” the tall, brunette member said as he and the rest of the band approached us.

   I felt my face warm up at the mention of my old character. “That’s me.”

   Matty turned to him. “How’d you know that, Adam?” 

   “Well, she was only the best part of Bright Lights, the finest American television show I ever watched,” Adam said.

   “Thank you, really, I didn’t think that anyone over sixteen watched that.” My stomach dropped as I realized I had insulted the member. “Which is fine, sorry, I just----”

   “It’s fine, as long as you tell me exactly how the series ends. Do Roxanne and Edward end up together, or does she go with Nick? I’m personally more of a Nick man m’self.” 

   Matty wrapped his arm around Adam’s shoulders. “Right, Adam, we get it, you are a big fan. Don’t weird her out.”

   “No, it’s fine, really, but I cannot give away any spoilers----ruins all the fun.”

   Adam fake pouted. “Fine, I guess I can live with an autograph and a picture.”

  “You have a deal.” 

   “Can I get those both as well?” Matty asked.

   “Sure.”

   “Oi, I want a picture with the movie star!” the blonde man announced as he and another tall brunette man ran over to us.

   I laughed. “Fine, we can take a group picture.” I waved Anthony over and all the members handed him their phones.

  We took so many pictures that I was positive that I had blinked in one of them. At the end of the impromptu photoshoot, the director insisted that we get started with shooting.

   “So, I s’pose you’re my love interest then?” Matty asked.

   “Yes, I suppose so.”

   “Could you do me a favor? Try not to fall in love with me, it would make today much more complicated and I know it might be difficult, but you have to resist.”

   I couldn’t help but chuckle as hair and makeup surrounded the band. “I’ll do my best, I am an actress after all.”

   The music video shoot was a lot more enjoyable than I thought it would be. The director yelled instructions through the megaphone and the song blasted through the speakers. All the boys behaved energetically on stage, interacting with the extras, and pretend playing their instruments. It was almost more fun watching them perform than when it was time for me to enter. The director had me start halfway through the crowd and signalled me to push my way through the crowd until I got to the front. Matty would pause in the middle of the song as the music kept playing when he saw me, a surprised look on his face. I half-smiled in return but kept moving towards the stage. Once I got to the front, Matty would continue singing and dancing around on stage. In a few different takes, he lowered himself down to my level and winked at me. In other takes, he would blow kisses and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

   When my heart skipped a beat, I silently chastised myself. He was obviously acting, wasn’t he? He’d done videos before with models where he had to be romantic with them. 

   Then, the time came for the extras to leave so that Matty and I could film a solo scene. I took a couple of pictures with extras as they were leaving.

   “Oh my gosh, Roxanne and Bridget better make up or I will have a whole cow!” one girl exclaimed after I signed her phone case.

  “Oh come off it, Rachel, Bridget is the biggest slag in the history of slags and Roxanne can do better friends wise,” another girl said.

   I laughed. “Thanks, but you will both have to wait and see.” 

   They ignored assistants ushering them away as they waved while walking in the direction of the exit. 

  “My, my, someone’s popular,” Matty said behind me.

  I turned to him. “Oh please, I did not have all the extras screaming when I walked into the room.”

  Matty shrugged. “Don’t worry, you’ll experience it one day.”

 I playfully pushed him and jumped away when he tried to push me back. As we were laughing the director approached us.

  “Alright you two, let’s get this over with and maybe we can all leave here at a decent hour. Now, I want Y/N to start walking out of the studio, but you’re gonna stop her, Matty, and pull her towards you. This is just after the concert ends and I want to see the emotion. Remember, you two were a mismatched couple with chemistry. “

   I nodded. “Got it.”

  The director marched back to the camera and signalled me to start. I turned on my heel and strolled to the door at a relaxed pace. Just when I opened the door, Matty grabbed my free hand and pulled me towards him. His dark brown eyes were intense as he held me under his gaze. I did my best to match his intensity and tried not to be surprised when he started leaning closer to me. Just when I felt his breath on my mouth, the director shouted for us to stop.

  “Wonderful! I really felt the energy between you two! Now, I need the two of you to dance. This is a flashback scene, back to when things between the two of you were better.”

  “Then we need some music,” Matty said.

  “MUSIC!” the director yelled.

  “The Sound” blasted through the speakers and Matty grabbed my hand, spinning me around, making me laugh in surprise. At one point, he picked me up and spun me around in his arms, forcing me to wrap my arms around his neck for stability. We filmed that scene about ten times with different dance moves each time. At the end of the takes, my heart seemed to beat louder and harder after the last. Why did musicians have to be so charming and funny?    Be professional, Y/L/N , I thought to myself.

  Finally, the director was satisfied with our dancing and called for the cut when Matty pulled me extremely close. I could smell his expensive cologne wafting from him. It was hypnotic. 

   I blinked and pulled away. “Um, good work today.”

  “Yeah, you too. I see what Adam was goin’ on about,” Matty muttered.

  “C’mon, Y/N, you have to get back to LA to finish some scenes!” Anthony barked from the stylist area.

  “Coming!” I called.

  “You’re leaving so soon?” Matty asked.

  “Yeah, I have to finish a movie that’s coming out next year.”   “Oh, because, I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind me showing you around the city and maybe getting dinner afterwards.”

  “Are you asking me on a date?”

  “If you want to call it that.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to fall in love with me today?”   “Who said anything about falling in love? I just like you a lot and would like to show you the better parts of London.”

   “Give me your phone?”

    Matty handed it over to me and I typed in my number.

   “I don’t leave until the day after tomorrow so you should call me so we can make better arrangements.”

  “Alright.”

  “Alright.”

  I walked away from him with the biggest grin on my face. Now, I finally understood why so many actresses and models in music videos wound up dating the lead musician: they’re kind of irresistible.

[flamebrain]

DUMMY THICK WARS

so. i wrote this on the bastard empire google doc at 12 am. read at your own risk

MATT MURDOCK CLAPS HIS CHEECKS.

good morning matt calls foggy from across the office. matt we have a guest. damn matt your ass cheeks. they’re so loud

Soft, what yonder bitch speaks? Asks matt

oh who is it matt says. i am blind did you know that i cant see

oh shit really says foggy. well matty, he's dummy thick, just like you.

peter parker strolled into the office, his asscheeks clapping from miles away. the second he laid eyes on matt murdock, he got a Fucking Dummy Thick Boner. he'd only ever seen one man dummy thick like th

Peter swings his dick in a circle

he sported a chubby immediately. at before - but eddie brock was getting BIS cheecks clapoed by venom, so peter couldn't clap them anymore. matts however. matts stupid thick cheeks filtered in the wind. hello matt murdock. peter parker said. i came here to sue mister eddieghew brockolo for infringing on my du elektra is lesbianbtw mmy thick rights.

you can't do that says matt

why not says peter with a tilt of his head. because matt says, then you would have to sue me, as foggy tells me i'm stupidc thick as well.

fine then. says peter. i will not sue on one conditions. what's that says matt? you let me clap those cheeks myself peter smiles very very sexily. matt immediatley shits and comes in his pants, but he gets another erection because he's matt murdock and nothing can stop him.

ok peter parker. matt says. i will allow you to clap

these cheeks but once.

foggy starts to cry. matty, he sobs, i wanna clap those cheeks. maybe i'm not as dummy thick as you, but i'm fairly stupid thick, and you wouldn't even know you're thick if it wasn't for me.

suck my dick and balls matt says and locks foggy out of his office.

now it is just peter and matt.

peter reaches for matts suit tie but matt swats im away. NO he says. i am a FREAKING catholic. being gay is a sin, you have to say no homo before you touch me or you're going to hell.

that ass is going to send me to hell anyways says peter but he says no homo anyways. matt whispers sensually in peters ear. i'm not gay...but i think those cheeks maybe are even bigger than mine. no homo.

they both then fuck for 7 days straight. foggy sits outside their office window and cries and eats spaghetti (formaggio!) from a red plastic cup. the office was out of plates. i'm so sorry foggy.

the eight day, foggy is passed out, and there's a knock on the door. matt stands up from his nonstop cheek clapping activities and opens it. it's kirsten!!! but she's- shes - shes DUMMY THICK AS WELL??? hello boys she says. you're looking rather flat. maybaps i can help with that. she pulls out two strapons and proceeds to peg matt and peter into tomorrow simultaneously. she is thicker than the both of them combined. karen page walks by and is immediatley disintegrated by their raw dummy thick power. foggy sobs over her ashes into his spaghetti. after two more days of fucking-kirsten passes out and dies in the process-, there is a tap on matts shoulder. aaaaaa he screams. then he hears it: a gunshot. peter screams. oh nooooooooo matt says, but it's too late. oh yesssssss frank castle says? standing above matt. he's ALSO dummy thick. i'm sorry red, but i had to do it to em. i had to kill him. Im the only one who's allowed to get that dummy thick ass. IM the only one allowed to be on your level of dummy thick here. fuck uou frank says matt. you can't kill people that's illegal. i just did. says frank. shit. you're right says matt. please let me eat your gun. not in a sexual way i just have been fucking peter for nine straight days and i haven't eatery: oh don't worry says frank. i have a better meal you can eat. what is it asks matt. frank grins like a sexey man. my ass. matt proceeds to bite franks ass. what the fuck red he yells. i told you i was hungry frank. frank slaps matt. you bitche. how could you do this. look at you. you're one bad day away from being me. he growls. matt is very angry. i'm angry! he yells, and pushes frank out a window. he stands there panting. he can smell the splattered corpse of dummy thick frank castle from below his office window. i didn't kill him matt says aloud. it was god. god made him die when he hit tjat pavement.

that is a lie and you know it mister daredevil says another voice. matt throws up. he knows that voice. it is mister wilson fisk the kingpin. mattt knows without turning around that he is the most dummy thick of all. he is larger than four matts, and eight times as STUPID fat. mr fisk he growls. mr murdock fisk responds. i will have to put you in jail for this. i cant go to jail i'm a lawyer says matt. not that kind of jail...dumb thick jail for gay idiot babies like you. fisk says. it is menacing because fisk is menacing. no please mr fisk matt says but it is too late. fisk has ejected him from his office. he writes something on the door. foggy calls out weakly from his spaghetti bed. matty it says fisk offices: the dummy thickest he says. matt begins to cry. fisk is now the holder of the ‘dummy thickest’ title. what can matt do. what can he do. he hears a laugh from behind. well well well the shittiest voice ever says. if it isn't flat matt murdock. fuck you pointdexter, cries matt through his crying. bullseye laughs. matt dear, he says, i want to make a deal. can't you see i'm sad and depressed pointdexter matt says. i don't give a shit says ben. also i'll spit on you if you work with me. matt has dreams about that. he smiles reluctantly. what do you want bullseye. i want to kill the man with the title of dummy thickest… because i want the title for MYSELF. before it was you, but now…defeated you are just flatt matt. fisk is now the man i must get through before i can reclaim this title. there's only one way to stop him: together. matt grimaces. i hate working with fake thickies like you he groans. but i will do what i must.

bullseye spits on matt for a half hour while they make a plan. foggy tells matt he's a stupid bitch, and matt agrees. they're just going to storm the office, take fisk by surprise, and kill him. matt hates to kill, but sometimes? well, the title of dummy thickest is more heavenly than God Himself. surely the big man would understand a little under to achieve this holy status. the title would give him the power, if wielded right, to defeat the Lord in hand to hand combat anyways. the clapping of matt's dummy thick asscheecks would defeat the lord, and then once the final clap rung out, he would be smothered-suffocated in the dummy thick sea.

the two of them let out a stupid loud yell, and broke matt's office door. uh oh fisk said and that was all he had time to say before bullseye and matt were upon him, tearing into his dummy thick flesh like rabid goblins. nooooo he cried. my fat! my dummy thick fat! it's not yours anymore. matt said solemnly. fisk cried a little bit and said he missed vanessa. matt did not care. there was no mercy left for him. there was only desire...desire to be the dummy thickest. when fisk was simply a skeleton, bullseye tossed him out the window. HAHA he laughed. you fool. now the spot of dummy thickest is OPEN! by the powers that be, i clap me che- matt pulled out a gun. sorry bullseye. i guess it's time to bull-DIE he said. he pulled the trigger. matt,,,why would you do this, foggy cried. his hair was covered in tomoato sauce. matt gave bullseye the finger as he bled out in front of him. i didn't do this for me. he said softly. i did this for US. i'm the dummy thickest now…. and you are my second in command which means you are the second thickest of them all. foggy ran over to matt, ass clapping all the way, and then they made out:

the end

IM DONE COWARDS

I am… como se dice…. dyin

[asflowersfade]

Ficlet: Now You Know

A MacGyver fic (4.500 words! O.O). Angst, murder, mayhem - and Murdoc being his crazy self. Told from Matty Webber’s POV.

After they return from Nigeria, Mac gets a fever. And that’s how it starts.

Once the doctors rule out things like Ebola, malaria and similar diseases, they deem the fever harmless, just the symptom of a common flu or exhaustion. Nothing dangerous about it. Still, it makes Mac cranky, as his friends find out, because he feels tired and his head hurts and he aches all over. Matty orders him to take a Tylenol and sleep it off, the simplest of remedies sometimes works best.

It doesn’t in this case, as it turns out.

Several days later, Bozer finds Mac passed out in the shower and before the ambulance arrives, Mac starts seizing, scaring the crap out of an already rattled Bozer. And he doesn’t wake up again, not in the ambulance, not at the hospital. When his temperature shoots through the roof and continues climbing, his doctors come to the conclusion that Mac’s fever is not a flu symptom. Geniuses, every one of them.

Now they’re standing in the hospital hallway - Jack, Bozer, Riley, Cage and Matty - and they’re looking through the window into Mac’s hospital room, watching as doctors and nurses rush around, trying to cool down Mac’s still rising temperature.

“I don’t get it,” Jack says in a low, desperate voice. He leans against the window frame and lets his head hang for a moment, before looking up again. He stares at Mac. “When we came back from Nigeria and he got sick, doctors put him through a whole battery of tests - I know because I was there, keeping him company, and I had to listen to him complain about it for hours! And they found bupkis, a whole lot of NOTHING. This” --he points through the window-- “is not nothing!”

Before anyone can respond - not that they would know how - Matty’s phone rings. Annoyed, she pulls it out of her pocket and snaps “What!” into the receiver.

“Matilda! Is that a way to answer a phone? Tsk tsk,” comes the snide response from the other end of the line.

Her eyes widen, then narrow again. “Murdoc! I should’ve known!” she snaps and puts him on loudspeaker so that everyone can listen in. And they do, gathering around anxiously.

“How is our boy wonder, if I may ask? Has he started seizing yet? I bet he did! It’s such a shame I missed that, it must’ve been quite a sight,” Murdoc says in a wistful voice.

Jack’s face flushes with fury and he opens his mouth to snap something, but Matty raises her finger sharply to stop him. He subsides but he balls his hands into fists so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“What did you do to MacGyver?” Matty asks. She sounds composed but her eyes are blazing. Her ability to keep her emotions under control in the most dire of circumstances is why she’s being paid the big bucks.

“Oh, you know. A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” Murdoc replies airily. “Though I have to give myself a pat on the shoulder, Matilda, because it was quite an ingenious plan.”

“Then why don’t you tell us about it, you genius?” Matty prods him.

Murdoc tsks again. “I can hear the sarcasm in your voice but I’m sure that even you will appreciate this: a two-component poison, my dear. The first part was in the substance I drugged Mac with a few weeks ago. The other… well, all I had to do was wait for our fearless hero to go south and get something as innocuous as a vaccine. Separately, those to components do nothing. Together?” He imitates the sound of an explosion.

Looking from one of his people to another and finally settling on Jack, forcing him to keep quiet with the strength of her look alone, Matty asks, “And what do you want, Murdoc?”

Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from Murdoc’s voice, it’s as if a switch was flipped and it’s quite terrifying. “It’s very easy, Matilda. I want my son. Cassian for the antidote. And before you start yammering about how you can’t put a child in danger or some other nonsense, think it through: whose safety is more important to you, director, some brat’s you don’t even know - or your company’s most important asset?”

Matty has to grit her teeth to keep from snapping at the psycho. She swallows her anger and tells him reasonably, “Well, now that I know that Mac’s been poisoned, what’s stopping my people from finding out what with and saving him on their own?”

And the amusement’s back. “Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I’m sure your lab will figure it out eventually, the Phoenix Foundation employs only the best of the best, after all. But!” He pauses for effect. “Will they figure it out in time? Before fever turns MacGyver’s brain into mush? I bet it’s already happening, right now. And the longer you wait with your decision to give me what I want, the higher the risk that he’ll suffer a severe brain damage. Just think about it, all that knowledge, all that intelligence… lost.”

This time, Jack won’t be stopped. “I’ll kill you for this, Murdoc. You hear me? I’ll find you and I will kill you!”

There’s a dark chuckle. “Oh, Jack. So good to know you’re listening in. I think you actually believe you can do that! I understand now why Mac keeps you around. You’re quite funny!”

Then, Murdoc’s humor disappears again, replaced with a bone-deep chill. “I’ll call in one hour, Matilda, and give you instruction where to bring my son. Oh, and do watch over our boy genius for me, will you? I want him to live and suffer for a while yet, you know?”

And then he hangs up.

They all start talking at once, but once again, Matty raises a finger to shut them up. Then she walks over to the door to Mac’s hospital room, opens it and beckons one of the doctors out into the hallway to tell him what she just found out.

“Is it possible?” Matty asks anxiously when she finishes.

Doctor Wheeler rubs his chin. “Well, in theory, sure but--”

She interrupts him, “Then act as if it did happen and focus on that. Our man told me that there is a good chance we could find the antidote ourselves, just not fast enough.”

She pauses and looks inside the room where Mac’s lying unconscious, surrounded by beeping and blinking machines. He doesn’t look good at all. “How long does he have?”

Sighing, the doctor looks at Mac, too. “Not long. At this rate, if his fever continues climbing…” He shakes his head. “If you really think he was poisoned, we’ll start working on it immediately. But since we know nothing about the poison, it might take days, even longer for us to find the antidote.” He falls silent, then he looks down at her. “He does not have days.”

Matty tightens her jaw. “I understand. Start working on it anyway. We’ll try to get the antidote from the source.”

“What will we do?” Bozer asks, wringing his hands, when Matty comes back.

“We can’t just hand Murdoc his son over,” Riley says. “Mac would be the first to insist on that!”

“But we have to do something!” Jack protests, loudly, angrily.

“Maybe we could draw Murdoc out and force him to give up the antidote?” Cage suggests.

Jack turns to her angrily. “Haven’t you been paying attention? Murdoc can’t be forced. He’s crazy! And even if - if! - we gave him the boy and he handed over the cure, he might double-cross us and let Mac’s brain get fried like an egg just for the hell of it!”

They start arguing again, snapping at each other, their anxiety and fear for Mac getting the better of them, until Matty yells at them to shut up or else!

“You’re right, Jack,” she tells him reasonably. “Murdoc’s crazy, unpredictable, and I doubt very much we can pressure him into anything, true. That said” --she sighs-- “we’ll have to try anyway, I’m afraid, because I don’t see any other option. We’ll agree on cooperating - and we’ll set up a trap and capture the psycho. And we’ll pray that either our people find the antidote in the meantime or we will figure out a way to make him give it up!”

They all look at each other grimly, unhappily. They don’t like it. They don’t like it all. There are too many options, too many variables, too many uncertainties. They’re about to play with a madman for stakes that are too high for anyone to be comfortable with.

In his hospital room, Mac starts seizing again. They’re running out of time.

An hour later, Murdoc calls them with instructions where to meet him. He gives them an hour to get there or the deal’s off. Just the ride will take them fifty minutes at least! Murdoc doesn’t care, take it or leave it. And he hangs up again. The bastard!

And so they decide to follow the plan, however unhappy they are with it, they don’t have anything better, no tricks left up their sleeve. They double Cassian’s security detail, they post guards at Mac’s room and leave Bozer there to watch over him. Riley they drop off at the headquarters from where she’ll follow them over satellite and cameras all over the city. And then they send a SWAT team ahead to take positions - “Stealthily, gentlemen! Mac’s life depends on this!” - while Jack, Cage and Matty go in… with Matty as the decoy.

“This is so humiliating,” Matty grumbles, pulling at her hoodie, while they sit in their car, parked inside the abandoned warehouse were they’re meant to meet Murdoc.

Jack looks in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, Matty, but neither of us two is small enough to pose as a kid.”

“It’s still humiliating!” she reiterates, squirming a little in the backseat.

Cage smiles, scanning their surroundings. “It was your idea,” she reminds their boss.

“I’m aware!” Matty snaps. “And if any one of you ever even breathes about this, I’ll have your liver for lunch!”

She expects Jack to protest but instead, he’s quiet for a moment and then, in a voice that’s entirely too serious, he whispers, “Yeah, well. If this goes well, if we actually get Mac the help he needs, then I’ll swear I’ll never talk about it to anyone.”

Matty’s face softens and she leans forward to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “It’ll be okay.”

“I hope so, Matty,” Jack says, patting her hand. “I really hope so.”

But Murdoc doesn’t show. They wait ten minutes, fifteen, half an hour - and nothing. And then, just about the time they start getting really anxious, Matty’s phone rings. They all stare at it for a heartbeat or two, apprehensive, then Matty picks up.

“Yes?” she says.

“You know, Matilda, I’m wounded,” Murdoc’s voice echoes through the loudspeaker. “We’ve known each other for months now - and you still take me for a fool.”

Matty glances from Jack to Cage. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hm, really? So, you did bring Cassian with you to our private little rendezvous?” Murdoc asks in a pensive voice.

“Yes,” Matty confirms. “I sent Cage and Jack with him, they should be there by now.”

“That’s funny, because I’m looking at him right now and he’s definitely not in the warehouse where your people should be,” Murdoc points out sharply.

They all freeze and their eyes, trained on the phone in her hand, widen.

“I don’t--” Matty starts saying.

“The people you sent to him for extra protection? They were really easy to follow. Where did you even find them? Spies-R-Us? Oh, doesn’t matter now, they’re dead anyway,” Murdoc says airily.

Matty pauses for a moment to gather herself. “You’re lying,” she says in the end, unwilling to give away anything just in case he’s playing them.

“Am I?” Murdoc says - and he proceeds to give her an address: the address of the safehouse where they’ve been hiding little Cassian for weeks now. Christ…

Then, Murdoc continues in a voice that’s as hard as stone, “The deal’s off. Whatever happens to MacGyver now, is on you, Matilda. On you. And, by the way,” he adds matter-of-factly, “I would get out of there, if I were you. You made me very angry. And when I get angry, I get even.”

Eyes snapping up, Matty yells, “Go, Jack! Go, go, go!” and she braces herself against the front seat with her feet.

They barely make it out before the warehouse explodes, flipping their car over and sending it rolling.

An hour, that’s how long it takes them to escape from the clutches of the local police and every other agency and service that one could even think of - Matty thinks she might’ve even seen the IRS guy lurking in the bushes - but enough is enough!

“Hey, Detective Deaf!” Matty snaps at the policeman who just asked them again to tell him what happened here, for the fourth time already! “We’re done here. We’ll answer all your question tomorrow. Right now, we have a psychopath on the loose, possibly a child missing - and one of my operatives is actually dying in the hospital while we yammer here! So, excuse me if I don’t really care about a pile of rubble on your home turf!”

The detective sputters and is about to object, but Matty pins him in place with her look. “Have your lieutenant call me - tomorrow! Now get out of my way or you’ll be singing soprano for the next decade!”

Under any other circumstances, Jack and Cage would laugh at the way the six foot plus guy built like a brick house scampers out of Matty’s way when she gets rolling. Under any other circumstances. But not now, not today. They’re just happy to get out of there.

They confiscate one of their SWAT team’s cars, leaving them to deal with the mess, and head for the safehouse where Murdoc’s son, Cassian, has been kept.

Riley tells them she informed Bozer about what happened - “He’s getting worse, Jack, I’m sorry,” she tells Jack when he asks about Mac in a thick, quiet voice - but she can’t raise Cassian’s protection detail, not on their coms or on their cellphones.

When they arrive at the house, they find out why: they’re dead, all four of their people, three women and one man, shot in the back of their heads, execution style. And Cassian’s gone. Matty tells Riley to send forensics in while Jack and Cage search the house, but it’s all in vain. There’s nothing left, no clues that would lead them to Cassian’s - and Murdoc’s - whereabouts.

And then, all of a sudden, Riley says urgently, “Matty, I can’t raise Bozer anymore! I tried both him and our people, but nobody’s responding, nobody’s picking up their phones, even though GPS is telling me that they’re all still at the hospital!”

Matty curses a blue streak. She feels like a puppet whose strings are being pulled. It seems that they’re doing exactly what Murdoc wants them to do, playing right into his hands!

She considers involving hospital security, sending them to check on Mac and her people - but staring down at her dead agents, she decides against it. The last thing they need are civilians caught in the crossfire.

“Matty?” Jack asks. Both he and Cage are standing in the doorway of the large living room, looking at her with deep apprehension.

“We need to go, now!” Matty tells them and she marches out of the main door, leaving her dead agents lying on the floor in pools of congealing blood. Her throat’s thick and her eyes burn a little, but most of all, her heart hammers with rage. Murdoc will pay for this!

At the hospital, everything goes from bad to worse to absolute disaster: their agents are dead, their bodies hidden in the bathroom in Mac’s room, Bozer’s gone and Mac… Mac, too. And Matty’s starting to get really tired of playing catch-up with a madman.

“Where is MacGyver?” she snaps at the first nurse she sees walking by while Cage’s checking out their dead agents and Jack’s leaning against one of the two windows in the room, taking deep, deep breaths, trying to calm down - and failing.

The woman startles so hard she almost drops her files. “Who--? The patient in this room?” She points at Mac’s room. “Doctor Wheeler signed him out.”

“He did what?” Matty barks out and takes an aggressive step forward.

The nurse looks around anxiously. “Well, one of your people came in with all the proper paperwork. Doctor Wheeler refused at first but” --she shrugs-- “I guess he was afraid your company might sue or something? And since the paperwork was in order--”

“When did they leave? Where did they go?” Matty keeps asking in the same furious voice.

“Half an hour ago? Maybe?” the nurse replies meekly. “I don’t know where they went but they took one of our ambulances?”

Matty grits her teeth and lets the nurse go. Then she contacts Riley, ordering her to track down all the ambulances via their GPS or whatever damn system this incompetent hospital’s using.

It takes Riley fifteen minutes. Fifteen endless minutes during which they call the cops and a real havoc erupts when the staff realizes that a multiple murder actually took place in their hospital. But they do get the location of the one ambulance that’s not responding, and that’s the most important thing right now - Matty needs to think of the people she can still save! She sends Jack and Cage to check it out because someone needs to stay there, in the hospital, and deal with this mess on top of all the others. Damn it!

It’s another twenty minutes before her phone rings. It’s Jack.

“Tell me some good news, Jack!” Matty orders. She really needs to hear some good news right now.

There’s a pause. “Bozer’s alive,” he tells her in a dull voice. It’s not that Jack’s unhappy about Bozer’s survival, it’s what follows that’s crushing him. “But the ambulance crew is dead, just like Doctor Wheeler. And Mac’s… Mac’s not here, Matty. He took him.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. More bodies, more innocents dead because she made a judgment call. And though she doesn’t know what she could’ve done differently to prevent this, it’s still all on her, just like Murdoc said, Mac’s fate, all of this…

“Why did Murdoc let Bozer live?” she asks a little hoarsely.

“He was told to give us a message.”

“What message?”

“Hold on,” Jack tells her quietly and apparently hands to phone over to Bozer.

“Matty?” Bozer whispers. He sounds like he’s been crying.

Matty doesn’t blame him. She feels like crying herself. “Hey, Bozer, are you alright?” she asks him gently.

“He shot them, Matty,” Bozer replies still very quietly as if afraid he might be overheard. “He killed the EMTs and then Doctor Wheeler, too! He-he threatened Doctor Wheeler’s son, that’s why the doc went along with the whole thing, with signing Mac out and-and everything else. It wasn’t his fault!”

It seems important to him that Matty understands it and she assures him that she does, that she doesn’t blame the doctor for anything.

Bozer pauses for a moment, gathering himself, before he continues, “He let me go because he wanted me to tell you why he was taking Mac. He-he said that you made him angry - you, Jack and Cage, but mainly you because you thought him stupid. He wanted to prove to you that he’s not. And… punish you, us - all of us - for taking his son away from him, by taking Mac away from us.” He swallows loudly. “He took him, Matty. He just took him.”

In the background, Matty hears Jack slam the ambulance door shut with all his strength, using all his rage. She knows very well how he feels.

Three days later, they still don’t know anything. The trail has gone cold. They did everything, checked everything they could, from traffic cams to satellite images. Nothing. And considering the state Mac was in when they last saw him, they’re slowly starting to lose hope.

“If Murdoc didn’t give him the antidote by now, if he didn’t--” Jack’s voice fails him and he turns away, towards the windows in the conference room; outside, it’s bright and sunny. “He might be dead already. Mac might be gone and we might not never even find out if the psycho decides to keep it to himself, what he did with Mac.”

They all glance at him and then away again because they know he’s right. It’s now all up to Murdoc. And it’s killing them, this frustrating helplessness.

Then the phone rings, Matty’s phone. And she knows.

“Yes?” she asks, picking up. And hearing the voice at the other end, she puts the caller on loudspeaker.

“... Matilda! So nice to hear your voice again.” Murdoc. And his voice’s dripping with glee. The bastard.

“Where’s Mac?” Matty snaps at him immediately, motioning to Riley to track the call. They do it every time, try to catch Murdoc unaware, but it never works out. That doesn’t mean they should stop trying.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Murdoc clucks his tongue. “First thing first - are you ready to apologize yet?”

Is the guy absolutely serious? The audacity!

“Apologize?” Matty barks out, finally losing her temper; it’s been a trying few days. “Are you kid--”

“We apologize,” Jack interrupts her, jumping in. She shoots him a shocked, furious look, but he doesn’t pay her any mind, his eyes are on the phone in her hand. “We apologize, Murdoc, alright?”

There’s a pause at the other end. “Well… I wanted an apology from Matilda, but” --he grins, they can hear it in the tone of his voice-- “somehow, hearing it from you is even sweeter, Jack. You must love our boy wonder very much - and you must be truly desperate.”

Jack grits his teeth and keeps quiet, letting Murdoc talk.

Another pause. Then, “Say please, Jack.”

Matty watches as Jack’s jaw tightens and his face flushes angrily. But then, suddenly,  all the fight goes out of him and he replies softly, “Please, Murdoc. Please, give him back.”

There’s a cackle on the line. “Finally!” Murdoc yells, his tone as deranged as they’ve ever heard it. “Finally you know how I felt when you took my son away from me! How do you like it, huh? How do you like it, Jack?”

When Murdoc falls silent, nothing but heavy breathing can be heard over the phone. Nobody speaks, everyone’s waiting for what Murdoc’s next step.

Then Riley’s eyes widen and she waves a hand sharply to get everyone’s attention, mouthing, “Got him!”

But before they can rejoice, thinking that they finally outsmarted him, Murdoc continues, his voice calm and under control again, doing another one of his terrifying personality switches, “Since you said ‘please’ so nicely, Jack - Miss Davis, did you finally manage to track my phone or will I actually have to give you the address?”

“We… we got it,” Riley answers him haltingly.

“Good. Now off you go,” Murdoc tells them, adding, “But you’re getting him back only because I allowed it. Me! I could’ve dropped him on your doorstep with a broken neck! I could’ve let him burn out… I could’ve never told you where he was! But I decided to let you have him. Never forget that!”

And with that he hangs up.

They find Mac in a cheap, nondescript house in the suburbs where every unit is a clone of its neighbours, where nothing and nobody stands out. If Murdoc hadn’t pointed them in this direction, they would’ve never even looked here.

The house’s empty, every room except for the one that’s set up like a hospital room, with all the necessary machines, beeping and blinking, and a bed. And in it - Mac. Pale and thin, but feverless and… alive!

Matty stands in the doorway, watching with a thick throat and burning eyes, as Jack returns his gun to its holster and leans over the bed, touching Mac’s arm with one hand and stroking his hair with the other. And when Mac slowly opens his eyes and croaks out Jack’s name, Jack nods, crying - actually crying! - and whispers back, “Hey. How do you feel, son?”

And when Mac coughs a little and grumbles, “Lousy...” - they all laugh.

They’re back at the hospital - no, they wouldn’t let Mac go home, that was absolutely out of the question, considering that only a few days before, he was on the verge of dying! - Mac’s sitting up in his hospital bed, Jack’s sprawled in the chair next to it and the rest of them is standing around, relaxed for the first time in almost a week.

Jack shakes his head. “I just don’t get it. Why did he give you the antidote? Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” he rushes to add, “I just don’t get it. It was him who poisoned you in the first place and we didn’t give him what he wanted, we tried to trick him.”

Mac sighs and rubs his forehead. “Before he left, he told me that he wanted me to be of a ‘sound mind’ when he killed me. Apparently, watching me turn into a vegetable was not ‘fun’ or ‘challenging enough’ or something.”

Bozer shudders dramatically. “What a creep!”

“I’m just sorry that we lost Cassian,” Riley comments seriously. “I’m afraid of what he could do the boy.”

But Mac shakes his head. “I don’t think he’ll hurt his son. If there’s anyone Murdoc might come even close to loving, it’s Cassian.”

“Well,” Matty says, “I’m sorry if I don’t take your word for it. I let all the other agencies know about what happened and they’ll help us search for him. I’m not giving up on that child!”

They all fall silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.

Then Matty claps her hands sharply and says, “We should let you rest, Mac. I doubled your security detail - that’s non-negotiable, you won’t get rid of them until you’re able to walk out of here under your own power, you limp noodle!” she snaps, glaring at him, when he opens his mouth to protest.

They all stifle a laugh and file out of the room - all of them but Jack, who makes himself even more comfortable in the chair by Mac’s bed. Matty stops in the doorway and looks back for a moment.

“You should go home, Jack,” Mac tells him reasonably.

“Uh, uh, nope, not gonna happen, forget about it!” Jack refuses, shaking his head adamantly. “You’re stuck with me, boy. I’m not letting you out of my sight for the foreseeable future!”

Mac rolls his eyes, enough though he looks a little touched, too. “Jack--”

“Did that fever somehow fry your hearing?” Jack cuts him off. “I’m not going anywhere, deal with it!”

Mac glares at him for a moment, their wills clashing - but then he gives up and smiles a little, sliding down the pillows and burrowing under his blanket. “Alright,” he agrees.

“Alright,” Jack says, nodding firmly, and crosses his arms on his chest.

“Thanks,” Mac whispers, his eyes sliding shut.

“You’re welcome,” Jack replies.

Smiling, Matty walks out and closes the door.