Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mac didn’t die.

Despite thinking he would, and the bad odds for survival, Mac somehow didn't die. He couldn’t serve anymore, his right arm hurt a lot, yet, he had survived. The doctors had kept telling him how lucky he was, how bad it could have ended, how easily he could have died.

It felt surreal.

Now Angus Macgyver sat in his house, convinced that he had actually died that day in the desert. That the bullet, wherever it came from, hadn’t hit his upper chest, but his heart instead, making it stop instantly. That he had died right there, blood seeping into the sand that surrounded him and Jack.

In that moment, Mac had been sure that the sight of his worried overwatch would be the last thing he would see. The taste of sand and blood in his mouth would be his last. That the ‘stay with me, Mac’ from Jack, would be the last words he would ever hear. Mac had been content with that, if he was being honest. It was a dark thought, but if he had died then, those things wouldn’t be haunting him right now.

Because nothing had felt right ever since he came home. Everything was supposed to feel better, he was supposed to be relieved, to be grateful that he was alive when he knew so many other soldiers weren’t. He should go to therapy, both physical to help his arm, but also therapy for his mental health. Yet, here he was, in the house he inherited from his grandfather, alone and stabbing the contents of a takeout box. 

Ever since getting to LA, his usual comfort foods hadn’t tasted as good as they used to. He had been looking forward to getting them when flying home, or at least telling himself so.

Mac stabbed the Pad Thai some more. It looked fine. He couldn’t find one shrimp, one vegetable or noodle that looked weird or wasn’t fresh. It smelled fine too and he knew the restaurant it came from, knew that it was a nice place. The staff was always sweet to him.

Still, it tasted like ash in his mouth. The texture seemed off, no matter which part of it he tasted; either too crunchy against his teeth or too slimy against his tongue.

The worst thing about the meal not tasting like it was supposed to, was that every meal he had tasted ever since coming home had been like that. Tasting of ash. Feeling wrong in his mouth. He knew that it was probably because he wasn’t feeling good mentally, that none of the meals he had eaten had actually been bad, that he needed to go see a therapist or a doctor about it. It took nothing before he was overstimulated.

He chewed another shrimp, closing his eyes while doing so. Trying his best to ignore the taste of ash that filled his mouth that made him want to throw up… again. Maybe he should try pizza tomorrow instead. He needed new stuff too, needed a new pair of noise canceling headphones. New clothes that didn’t scratch. Shoes that didn’t feel weird to walk in.

He swallowed the shrimp despite the taste, feeling it go down his throat and disappear into his body.

His body.

His decaying body.

Rot. 

Angus Macgyver was sure that death would creep up on him soon. Convinced he was rotting from the inside out.

His body was a cage. It was broken.

He watched the display of the phone, showing yet another call that would be left unanswered. The lack of energy to hide.

Instead he abandoned it on the counter, going to the bathroom and pulling off his clothes and letting them drop to the floor. The shower took over 30 minutes. He didn’t shower a lot and when Mac finally did, he scrubbed and scrubbed, meticulously trying to get each inch of his body clean, free of any dirt, even if most of it was just in his mind.

Mac was shaking afterwards as he was tapped himself in a towel, water dripping onto the tiles. The same tiles that had been there his entire life, in his childhood, his teenage years before running off. 

The lights of the room were noisy. Had they always been that?. He would have to change them… would he even be able to? 

Yes, he tried to convince himself, he might not be able to take a bomb apart anymore, but he would be able to change the light. He had to be.

Cleaned of his sins for now, he dried himself off.

Telling Bozer a straight up lie should have affected Mac more than it did, he knew it should. Yet, it was as if he felt nothing, as he had let out a fake laugh and told his childhood friend that he was doing good in LA. That it was nice, being at his childhood home, all alone, after an entire tour in Afghanistan, where privacy was a luxury he rarely had had. He had lied about his shoulder and arm not hurting to Bozer, even though they burned every moment of being awake, as if embers were trying to slowly eat its way throughout his already decaying body. 

The painkillers stood untouched next to his bathroom sink. He rarely did the exercises he was supposed to. 

What did it matter anyways, Mac would think while walking down the street. The brilliant Angus Macgyver had become useless, unable to stop his hand from shaking, from stopping the bombs he had been sent out to do. 

So, lying to Wilt was perhaps not the worst thing to do.

Jack, however? Emotions emerged inside his otherwise cold corpus at the thought of his overwatch, his friend . He had stayed for another tour, Mac going back to the states alone, after everything that happened. 

With each day that passed, Mac was sure Jack was forgetting him more and more. 

He had called a couple of times, but Mac hadn’t picked up. Jack had another EOD to protect now, Mac didn’t want to distract him and he would become a distant memory to the older man, Jack would move on. Forgetting to always be there for Mac, to always watch his back, just as he had promised. Never to tell Mac it would be alright again, as he did, out in the desert when Mac was bleeding out.

He had also promised to come find Mac as soon as his tour was over; Mac doubted that was true, but time would show. If he was alive at that point, he supposed.

Because how was he supposed to survive now? He was nothing but a worthless mess, just going outside overwhelmed him to the point where even when he wore his new noise canceling headphones, every yell seemed to go straight into his brain. Every texture he touched felt wrong, half of his clothes didn’t feel right any more, every food he tasted was like ash to him, any kind of loud sound was the sound of a bomb or a shot to him.

PTSD, his mind supplied when it had its logical moments, trauma, autism, everything made sense. Technically. Logically. He needed help, meds, and therapy. But the mere idea of having to explain to somebody how he felt was an awful thought. Enough to make him want to throw up.

Even taking his hormones seemed like a chore, but so far the only thing he could muster.

He thought about telling the truth to Jack. Picking up the phone, just let out his real emotions. The fear of seeming too needy, being a bother however, seemed too scary. It would only be a matter of time before Jack realized what burden Mac had been.

Jack didn’t care for Mac, not truly. Jack might think he did, but Mac knew the truth. Nobody truly cared for him.

Mac walked down the road towards the shop where he needed food. Energy bars, bananas, oatmeal and cornflakes, frozen meals, stuff to just keep him going. Stuff that might or might not end up in the trash, depending how they felt on his tongue, no matter the taste. They would presumably all taste like ash anyways. 

Every loud sound made him flinch, the fear of a bomb nearby, when he wouldn’t be able to stop it, scaring him more than he would ever admit, even to himself. The fear of once again being shot, but this time not raised from the dead a couple of ragas later.

Especially with Jack not closeby or in his ear - he was unwatched, left to himself to survive. With a shaking hand, a spiraling mind and the same disgusting taste of ash in his mouth, no matter what he did.

The weird thing was, even though Jack wasn’t there to protect him, to take care of him, Mac still felt watched. It was like he could feel it at the back of his neck, felt it in every room in his house. 

Like there were eyes on him everywhere he thought he could be safe, that watched him rocking in his bed at night after a nightmare, crying and calling out for Jack, scratching different places of his body so hard it left marks.

But twice a week, Mac left the house to go to the grocery store - and most of the time, he didn’t feel like he was being watched. He felt like people were too busy to notice him. It was nice.

Even if he felt like he was more lonely than ever, being in a crowd where nobody cared about him.

Chapter Text

Dennis Murdoc watched him silently from across the street, taking a sip of the rather bland coffee that they served at the cafe that he had come to visit every Monday and Thursday, always around the same time.

He had to give it to Angus, or Mac, as he apparently preferred, he was quite the creature of habit, despite the struggles he had after returning from Afghanistan.

Murdoc knew those struggles all too well - not because he had them himself, no, but because he had followed along ever since Angus returned; even if he hadn’t been surveilling Angus 24/7, he would just have to take one look at him, while he walked to the shop. He was a mess. Though, a beautiful one. Sometimes a person could be quite the beautiful, broken mess and Angus was one of those. Murdoc would have to step in soon, he knew, to make sure his little bird ate properly, took care of himself, really anything, so he wouldn’t let himself wither away to nothing. But also since Murdoc was becoming impatient, yearning to touch the other’s skin, to play with his mind and turn him into the perfect puppet; the perfect doll for Murdoc to have, to pull along in his group. His followers would take good care of him, he knew, as soon as they realized how perfect sweet Angus Macgyver was for their family. How perfect he was to Murdoc - how the blonde would entertain Murdoc, their god. 

He couldn’t be too direct about it of course.

Murdoc took another sip of the coffee, watching the blonde, who was unable to even look up properly, with those headphones he seemed to be wearing all of the time now, going into the shop, just as he did every Monday and Thursday. Usually to get the same things as well.

No, despite how awful his little bomb expert was clearly doing, he was still quite an intelligent being. Murdoc supposed he wouldn’t find Angus interesting if he was not that intelligent, really. He wouldn’t be that special then.

Alas, going directly to Angus and asking him to join the group for dinner wasn’t really a possibility. Nobody says “yeah, sure, why not,” when somebody tells you they are an actual deity and that they would like you to join their cult. 

Besides, where would the fun be in that? It would be like not even wanting to play the game that he had set up the moment he decided to shoot the other. Point of no return had been the moment he pressed the trigger, shooting Angus Macgyver. It was like pressing on the start button. There was no way to pause the game or go back. Murdoc had always liked games, always loved to win in particular.

And Macgyver he would win. Even if it took a couple of days more, even if it took months .

He would have Angus on his knees, like a desperate, leashed dog. A lamb begging to be slaughtered, begging to be sacrificed for the transcendent being. He would take Angus apart, rip off his skin, rob him of his tongue and pull his bones from each other and from the meat, plant his seed of lies and darkness inside of him, before putting him together, sowing him up all nicely with the manipulation.

Like any god would do.

His followers had noticed something changed in him, of course. Especially the few who had the honor of being close to Murdoc, helping him run his little cult. They had helped put up the cameras. Whether or not brainwashing actually existed, wasn’t a discussion Murdoc wanted to jump into, but he had surely twisted many people’s minds in his group.

They worshiped him and Murdoc loved every moment of it. He loved how he could watch people almost stumble over their feet to do certain things, to prove their use, their loyalty , to their god. They would crawl through mud, swim for hours, pain be damned.

He was their savior, their deity, transcendent of their human world, willing to save them from the miserable thing that was being a human and being alive; they just had to prove themselves worthy, follow his words.

A good god made sure their followers wouldn’t question the actions.

Ah, how easy people were to manipulate. It had taken a few tries to start the group up in between jobs, but now his followers barely asked questions, just followed him like mindless sheep.

Hoping to be cleansed from the darkness that had filled their lives for so many years. So desperate for answers for the deepest, most existential questions of life. What happens after death? Why does this happen to me? Why did this catastrophe happen, is the god I used to follow real? Will the world end? Am I a good human being, is there more to the world than the human eyes can see? Can you help me reach happiness, can you save me from my sadness and loneliness?

He caught a few people who loved nature as well, intensely interested in living an eco-friendly life, which he could more or less offer at the compound. People desperate for a community where they could fit in. 

Murdoc was here to give them all of that. In exchange for their money and minds.

They would fall on their knees for him, bend their heads down, even further if he told them to. They would get along and help each other with the ranch, making sure Eden would be perfect. They would almost fall over at any praise, they would all enjoy the rituals, go away from the rites, feeling like better humans.

But, even Murdoc had to admit that it was getting boring sometimes. It all seemed too good, despite what he made his followers go through, there still wasn’t enough blood and death for him, not enough fun . That was why he still went on a job now and again - and luckily so, because it had been at the latest one that he had seen this beautiful being, whose potential in life, wasn’t being used. 

He who would be such a wonderful, special thing to ruin, not only by breaking his mind apart. No, no, Murdoc wanted to take Angus apart sexually too. Physically. He wanted to take him apart violently, he wanted to traumatize the younger man, but still make it so that he would never abandon Murdoc.

Was that so wrong of him?

That night before, the trembles were visible to Murdoc, even though the screen. It made something spark in Murdoc’s groin, made him lick his lips as he watched the younger man on his phone screen.

The confused calls for help, for safety, for Jack . For the horrors of his mind to stop, body thrashing back and forth, yelling out.

How he wished he was actually there in the room, not just watching through a camera. 

Pleasurable sparks ran along Murdoc’s spine at the sight, especially as Angus sat up suddenly, gasping for air, almost choking himself. He scratched at his entire body, crying out for Jack, poor little bird, all abandoned with his trauma and bad memories after the artful move Murdoc had done by shooting him. After all, it was easier to keep a bird trapped if it couldn’t fly.

Murdoc tapped on the screen, going to the next camera, following Angus’ quick movements from the bedroom, out in the hall, then to the bathroom.

He almost looked like a golden ghost, with his slightly tanned skin from Afghanistan’s sun, thin from his own miseries, from his frail mind, eyes crazed and breathing quick, in what was clearly a panic attack. Coughing now and again, washing his tongue as if there was still sand on it, taking painkillers for the arm and pressing against the wound, as if he was reliving the trauma. The moment that Murdoc created.

Mac cried, without knowing he was being watched, stumbling into the shower, turning the water on full blast and cold, despite the clothes he wore. Sobbing beneath the water, scratching at his arms.

So hauntingly beautiful..

Tomorrow, Murdoc had decided at the sight, tomorrow it will happen.

“Oh my, I’m so so sorry,” Murdoc said apologetically as Angus fell on his ass, speaking, loud enough so that he knew Macgyver could hear him despite the noise canceling headphones. It seems like the headphones were on his head constantly. The blonde had even fallen asleep wearing them last night, Murdoc watching him go to bed through his surveillance cameras in Macgyver’s home - and then, when waking up, the blonde was still sleeping with them on. Really, he needed to let his ear and mind get some air. Little stupid thing.

“Are you okay?” he said, gently helping to pull Angus to his feet, touching his hand, which  made Angus flinch, before he let Murdoc touch him. Angus had dropped the grocery bags and a few things had fallen out.

“Ye-yeah I’m fine, I’m sorry,” Aw, wasn’t that just adorable, the blonde genius was apologizing to him , “I didn’t see where I was going.”

As if Murdoc hadn’t almost been standing a little down the street, waiting for Angus to exit the shop, to go back home the usual way he always did. Waiting for the perfect moment to bump into him.

“Oh, no no don’t apologize, you have done nothing wrong,” Murdoc answered, putting on his best sweet smile as the other finally looked up at him, their eyes meeting, “I was caught up in my own thoughts - Are you okay?” 

“I - yeah, I’m okay, thank you,” Oh, Murdoc wanted to coo over the way Angus’ eyes widened a little when asked if he was okay; such a big reaction to such little attention. So adorable, Murdoc wanted to shower him in attention, see how Angus would react to all kinds of stuff. He helped Angus pick up a few things, before speaking again.

He wanted to be a shining light in Angus’ world, a blessing, emerging just when he needed it most. A shining light which would devour him whole, pull him further down without his notice.

“That’s good,” Murdoc had waited for this for so long, so he pulled every trick he could; feigning shyness, by biting his bottom lip just for a moment and scratching the back of his neck, giving Angus a hopeful look. “This might be a little too straight forward - but could I get your number?”

Angus Macgyver blushing was a lovely sight. The man was able to do so much, used to take apart bombs in the military, willing to sacrifice his own life, yet here he was, blushing over Murdoc asking for his number.

He had changed, ever since Murdoc shot him, which was so lovely to see. He was deteriorating more and more every day, getting more and more ready for Murdoc to take over. 

To take his mind apart. 

Dress him up in a crown of barbed wire, cover him in see-through fabrics and soak him in blood, perhaps not animal blood like his other followers, but actual blood. Murdoc should find some human blood.

“Sure, why not,” Angus finally answered, a charming, if not a little shy smile appearing on the blonde man’s face, “I uhm, can maybe buy you a coffee? As an apology for literally running into you.”

Murdoc laughed gently, smiling genuinely; not really because of Angus’ attempt at being a gentleman, but at how easy it was to just pluck him off from the world. He was so needy for attention. Murdoc bent down, picking up an apple that had escaped the grocery bag, offering it to Angus. 

“That would be very lovely,” he answered, “I’m Dennis Murdoc.” He so deeply wanted to add I’m your savior, I’ll save you from the darkness, don’t worry. But alas, that might not be the best idea.

“- Angus Macgyver, but I prefer Mac.” Murdoc already knew that of course, but the man still nodded as if he didn’t. Playing unaware for now.

“Mac, then,” the name felt like a relief to finally be able to say aloud, even if he preferred calling him for Angus, “what’s your number?”

Chapter Text

Murdoc: I’m afraid I’m a little busy the upcoming days - but would Saturday fit you?

Mac pretended to check his calendar; as if he had something going on, not just an endless list of nothing, ever since coming home from Afghanistan.

But, despite the sudden and literal run in with Dennis Murdoc, it seemed like a nice change. Besides, he had been noticed; it felt desperate, perhaps a little mean to the other man, just to be interested because he was so desperate. But it wasn’t as if he wasn’t attractive.

No, Murdoc had this charming look to him, even though Mac had only met him once. A pull of a sort.

Mac: Sure! Saturday sounds great. When would it fit you best?:)

Murdoc: Wonderful, Mac. Around 2 pm? I have a meeting at 4, I’m afraid, but I would still like to see you.

Mac: That’s alright, 2 sounds fine!

Murdoc: I’m looking forward to seeing you, Mac.

Mac licked his lips slowly. It sent a thrill through him, that despite being busy, Murdoc still wanted to see him. Wanted to take time out of his day, just to see Mac.

The blonde laid down on the couch after having replied likewise to Murdoc. Even though it was already Thursday, Saturday seemed too far away right now. 

Maybe… Maybe things would clear up, despite how he felt. He, at the very least, had a reason to take care of himself, even if only for a little while. Clean himself up for Murdoc.

He felt silly, naive perhaps, at the thought of getting himself all cleaned up and pretty for Murdoc, as if it would mean anything. He should shave. Find some nice clothes, that didn’t scratch, but showed off his arms as well.

The other man had been dressed so classy that Mac didn’t even know how to describe it. Long black, kimono-like shirt, golden jewelry. Loose, beautiful fabrics that Mac was sure never itched. His hair slicked back, all in perfect place.

Was the other man genuinely interested in him? Was it just a sexual thing? Mac closed his eyes for a moment, imagining himself on his knees, sucking Murdoc off - would he be a gentle lover? Or perhaps, perhaps Murdoc wouldn’t mind going down on him, dark eyes watching him as he came, tongue warm and wet. Mac felt his face heat up, he could feel himself becoming a little wet as well. It felt ridiculous. Murdoc would probably go on one date with him and then forget about him. He would probably lose interest the moment Mac mentioned he was trans.

If… if not… would Mac be alright with it just being sex?

He thought about it, looking up at the ceiling as he had done so many times before, even if it felt a little different this time. He hadn’t really gotten himself off a lot since he got home. Maybe it was what he needed. A good fuck.

He ran his hands over his face, letting out a frustrated sound. He needed therapy, help, so much more than just a good fuck.

And… Would he just be using Murdoc for pleasure then?

Mac closed his eyes. The dilemma felt like a bomb, slowly ticking away, set to go off Saturday at two pm. Only, he didn’t know how to fix this bomb, and didn't quite understand how to detonate it. His hand felt shaky, pain beginning to appear like small waves, crashing against his bones.

With his recently broken body, could a date really cause more damage? Or was it just his mind saying no, the anxiety and depression, the overstimulation forcing him to stay at home, stay at what was known?

Mac rolled over on his side and stared at the back of the couch, curling up together for a little. He could at least try. It felt like nothing could be worse at this point. Besides, Murdoc had seemed genuine. Despite Mac’s awkwardness.

“Does it feel weird to be home?” His question was gentle, curious, his dark eyes watching Mac with a softness that the former EOD wasn’t used to, “you don't have to answer, of course.”

Mac shrugged, took a sip of the latte. Wondering if he should just blurt out the truth, tell the other how absolutely awful he had been doing ever since coming home. His fingers tightened and loosened around the coffee cup. His shoulder began to hurt.

“I guess?” He finally said, looking over at Murdoc again, giving him a soft smile that was instantly mirrored, though Mac felt like Murdoc’s smile was more genuine than his own, “It’s different, I - it feels weird to not have a schedule, like I’m used to. I got too much time on my hands… Which I guess I shouldn’t complain about but… yeah.”

“That makes sense,” Murdoc tipped his head to the side, “Your life changed from one day to the other.” 

His voice was gentle, soothing. Mac nodded, looking down at his coffee again, almost feeling shy, because he did hit the nail on its head. Murdoc seemed chill about everything so far - in fact, very understanding.

The hand was cold, but soft, as it touched Mac’s own warmer and shaking hand; Murdoc’s hand pulled Mac’s from the coffee cup, down on the table in the coffee place, gently holding it, just for a moment. His nails were painted black, golden rings adorned his fingers. It felt unreal to his own broken hand.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Mac,” He said gently, almost with a sparkle in his eyes that Mac couldn’t describe, “You seem like a smart man.” Mac could feel the hairs on his neck stand up at the moment. As if his insecurity shut up for a moment, not quite healed, but at least held at bay, even if just for a moment.

“Thank you,” his voice wasn’t louder than a whisper and Murdoc smiled, giving his hand a small squeeze before letting go of it.

Mac walked home afterwards, feeling as if his hand was still tingling from where the other man had touched him. He had sounded so confident when he said I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Mac.

It made his heart flutter, at least for now. He didn’t doubt it would change the moment the other man left him alone again, no longer interested, leaving like everyone else did and then every- Mac took a deep breath, trying his best to push away the thoughts of doubts.

“I would like to see you again, Mac.”

Mac didn’t know how else to describe hearing those words, other than it feeling like a sunrise in his stomach. Warm rays of sun and hope, heating up his body. They had agreed to text later, Murdoc warning him that he might be busy the upcoming days, but very much willing to figure something out.

The attention, even just from a little less than two hours, felt like it made him high. The way the other had urged to talk about himself, made it clear that it was only if Mac wanted to.
He had told the older man about being shot, how he had been sent home from Afghanistan, leaving behind Jack. How he didn’t have anyone in LA, his childhood friend not living here any more. There had been more honesty in his words than any he had said to Bozer the last couple of times talking to him. It felt like Murdoc just… wanted the truth. He made Mac feel safe with him, so easily, it was almost scary.

Even though Murdoc didn’t talk a lot about himself, Mac found out he was a businessman, had a big family and seemingly liked animals a lot. Lived on a ranch. 

“I’ll see you soon, then. It was nice to spend time with you.”

It had been like there was something in the air about Murdoc, pulling Mac’s mind towards him constantly; the urge to be together with him again much bigger already. But he didn’t want to seem needy either… the other would text one of the upcoming days. Mac was sure he would lose his mind if it took several days.

The loneliness would crawl back to him, like an old friend, waiting at the door of his home. It would make him ignore Jack’s and Bozer’s calls, make him hate everything he ate because it felt wrong in his mouth, and his mind would play tricks with him again. Make everything taste like ash, make every fabric bite at his skin like ash, make every little mistake feel like great ones, making him puke. His own reflection would be nothing but a stranger, his head whispering about everything that was wrong.

My mind had been so quiet when spending time with Murdoc. Now it was loud again, making him wonder how Murdoc had managed to kill out the overwhelming urge to not exist anymore.

—

Mac had almost walked past it at first, hadn’t it been for the green color sticking out from his mailbox, which caught his attention.

It was nothing more than a sheet of paper and as Mac looked down the road, he could see the same sticking out from a couple more mailboxes. He curled it half together in his hand, before turning it over, expecting it to be an ad - but no.

EDEN RANCH

FREE DINNER AND GUIDED TOUR!

Our community has its monthly dinner, open for the public!

You can get a free meal, meet new happy people and get a guided tour of our self sufficient place, Eden.

Here you can see our newest building projects, hear about our work with green energy and see how we constantly evolve the ranch to be better for both humans, animals and the environment! Meet our goats, cows and sheep and learn how we live off the earth.

We only have a limited number of seats, so please send us a text to let us know if you’re coming! 

We can’t wait to see you!!

The community of Eden Ranch

Eden Ranch. As far as Mac could remember, he hadn’t heard of it before.

It would be a couple of days before he would see Murdoc again… Maybe going wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It would be better food than anything he could make himself.

He could at least consider it.

Chapter Text

Please text me or pick up the calls, Mac. I just wanna hear how you’re doing.

Mac looked at the phone, sitting at the edge of the bed. He was in nothing but boxers, the rays of the sun warming up his body, the still red gunshot scar in a sharp contrast to his skin. He was losing some of that summer glow that Jack had always teased him about.

He stared at the message, the sender being Jack Dalton. Mac still hadn’t picked up any of his former overwatch’s calls nor answered any messages. He couldn’t really see why he should. Jack had other things to do, a new EOD to focus on. He was just clinging onto a distant memory of Mac that wasn’t there anymore; because the darkness, the nightmares and the haunting memories had drowned the former Angus Macgyver, buried him alive.

He was just the shell left.

Maybe he should just pick up the phone, tell Jack exactly that. Explain to the older man that he should stop calling, focus on somebody else. The love and care he had for Mac was a waste. Because Mac was a waste.

The blonde put the phone back on the bedside table, instead picking up the slightly bent flier. He hadn’t texted the number yet, unsure whether to do so or not, if he really wanted to go to a ranch nearby, meet who was probably a group of hippies, running a commune. He was being judgemental and rude, he knew that. He ran his fingers along the green paper, which looked homemade as well. 

If nothing, he could just see if they really had any interesting ideas.

Maybe it was something like that he needed. An experiment, something to work on.

He picked up the phone once more, not to reply to Jack, but to text the number on the flier, asking if they still had an open spot.

We actually have one left! You’re very welcome to join us tonight, Mac! It’s around 4:30 PM, then we will make a little tour around the compound before we eat!:) 

The text seemed… happy. Despite being letters on a text, it even ended with an emoticon.

Mac pushed himself up from the bed. If he was going there for dinner, he might as well look somewhat decent. It was a reason to take a bath, he supposed.

Mac had a plan for the evening. It almost felt like a little mission, even if there wasn’t any bomb he had to stop from blowing up. In the car on the way, he felt like he was going to throw up, something as simple as seeing a ranch and eating, making him feel sick.

But his plan was to go, see if things were interesting or not - and in case he felt too bad, or didn’t like it, he would simply give some bad lie about not feeling well and then dip out early and go home. Eat some takeout, go for an evening run. In reality, if he went home, he would probably just retreat to his room and do absolutely nothing, falling asleep on an empty stomach.

The sign to the ranch was wooden, homemade, but quite pretty. Green painted letters, spelling out the words: Eden ranch. A branch beneath it, reminding Mac for a moment about the branch that the bird gave to Noah. Was it a dove? Mac couldn’t remember. He supposed it didn’t matter. 

The gravel road towards the ranch, after the sign, was long and Mac realized, as the trees around him created a forest, that the place was already quite bigger than he had expected.

When the forest finally cleared up, the sun lit up the area in front of him, the compound like something out of a movie. Long grass around the road, a couple of buildings further up, together with a tent here and there. A couple of sheep and horses were grazing, their heads turning as Mac drove along the road. 

Two people sitting together on a big draft horse, further up the road, waved at him and pointed towards a little spot where a couple of other cars were parked.

As he stepped out, he supposed he understood why the place was called Eden ranch. It was weirdly quiet, despite not being so far from everything. It was a giant place, with several roads leading off from what he could see, fields and several buildings. The sound of the wind blowing and making waves in the long grass, people’s voices’ and laughter further up at the compound, the animals letting out a sound now and again.

His mind even felt a little quieter. He could still feel the anxiety waiting inside of his lungs, like a disease ready to break out, but he pushed them away, instead closing the car door behind him.

The air felt clean. He could see what looked like homemade windmills behind two of the buildings he could see.

Mac had showered earlier, his hair clean as he ran his hand through it, feeling out of place in his red flannel, gray t-shirt and dark shorts, eyes running over the people’s outfits for a moment.

“Hi - I’m Mac - I texted earlier?” he said out loud as he walked towards the horse with the two women sitting on it, both of them wearing fully green outfits. Different shades of green, sure, but all green. Even their shoes.

“Oh, yeah hi Mac, I got ya’ right here!” The woman on the back said, having a clipboard in her hands that Mac hadn’t noticed earlier, before she slid down gracefully, the horse barely reacting, merely letting out a little huff. She gave the clipboard to the woman still on the horse, before turning her full attention back on Mac.

She had a happy smile, as if she had not a worry in the world in her mind and Mac felt himself instantly jealous; he wanted that smile. He wanted not having to want to hide away all day in his bed, wanted to be free of his fucked up mind. It felt silly, since he had literally just met this lady-

“I’m Rose! Rose Johnson! We’re still expecting two others, so Luna will wait here - but c’mon, I’ll take you up to the others!” She almost overly happily said, Mac unable to not smile back, even if a little shyly, muttering back a “sure.”

It was like there was a pleased, almost excited skip in her step; he suspected she was around his age, with short red haie.

They walked towards what seemed like a big wooden hall, some buildings around it - and Mac didn’t even have the time to ask, before Rose began to explain, as if a switch had been turned on.

“That’s our main hall!” She explained enthusiastically, “we eat there too and we meditate and dance!”

“Wow, that sounds -” like a lot, he almost wanted to say but he didn’t want to judge either, “really nice.”

There were a couple of other people - and the guests were rather easy to spot, since they, like Mac, weren't dressed completely in green either.

“I’ll show you the rest in a minute - we’ll wait five minutes for the last to arrive, then me and Fern will give you all a tour!” Her voice went even higher with excitement, pointing towards a man dressed in green, who turned around just the same moment.

While Rose had seemed excited and happy, the man who she had called Fern, gave off a more calm but still friendly vibe.

“Hi,” the green clad man greeted, offering Mac his hand, “I’m Fern. But Rose probably already mentioned that.”

“Ah, yeah. I’m Angus Macgyver. Just call me Mac,” he replied, shaking the other’s hand shortly, smiling the best he could manage, eyes flickering to the around 6-7 other guests. He knew none of them, not that he had expected to, it wasn’t like he knew anyone at the compound either - maybe he should just have stayed home, ordered someth-

“She can be a little enthusiastic- but she means well,” Fern said gently, eyes watching Mac with a smile, before nodding towards the red haired Rose who was skipping back towards the horse, “we’re not all like that, don’t worry.”

Mac let out an amused chuckle, unable not to, giving Fern a bit of a more real smile this time. 

The other man was a bit older than Mac himself, brown hair with big unruly curls and a pair of slightly greasy glasses, dressed in a simple outfit, without too many layers - just pants, shirt and shoes. 

“Have you lived here for long?” He asked, curiosity seeping into him and perhaps the urge to not be in silence until the tour started, eyes flickering around to the other guests once more, before landing on Fern again.

The curly haired man shrugged, “a couple of years at this point. I don’t really count, you know? Time just flies by.”

“Ah. That seems nice.” Time just flies by… probably because he is having a good time, Mac’s brain explained. Because Mac felt like his life didn’t, the days seemed to swallow him up in their slowness and when they melted together, it felt like time just stood still. Trapping him in his thoughts.

“It is. I can’t imagine living somewhere else. Do you live far from here?”

“About a thirty minute drive,” Mac answered, his hand and shoulder beginning to hurt a little. Perhaps he should go home. Lie or well… just say the truth, that he was in pain.

“Awesome! Then if you like it here, you can always come visit again.” 

There was a twinkle in the other’s eye that Mac couldn’t quite identify. He wanted him back already? They had barely known each other for five minutes. 

Mac knew he should listen to the alarm bells at the back of his mind, but his need for attention was taking over, pawing at the slight interest in him. Feral for being wanted, for being paid attention to.

Mac opened his mouth to answer Fern, but the man turned his head, Mac following the movement, seeing Rose approaching with the last guest.

“We’re all here!” The happy redhead declared, a big grin on her face.

“Great!” Fern took a step back from Mac, raising his voice, “alright everybody ! Thank you for coming to our ranch! We’ll start the tour and explain about our lovely Eden, but don’t be afraid to ask any questions along the way-“

The ranch - or well, the giant compound really- seemingly had everything that was needed.

A big kitchen that would fit at least 20 people, two big barns for animals and hay, several fields both for said animals but also some for farming, a little doctor’s office, several different kinds of living places, all depending on what people preferred- not to mention, several projects, ranging from rainwater collection, to cloth making and sustainable energy. Rose had talked and talked but somehow kept that happy mood that Mac wanted, up.

They were standing at a big shed, or well, it was more like a workshop. There were several projects inside and Fern talked about how they worked together to make the different things work.

Mac was strongly distracted however, by a couple of smaller windmills, standing on a table, absentmindedly walking towards then to look.

Their wings weren’t tilted the right ways, most of them not long enough. What seemed like the most recent example looked unstable. Mac hand shook as he gently touched the wings, to make them move. The whole thing was slowing in self down to a point where the wind would have to fight the mill to make the wings twirl.

“Know anything about windmills?” Fern’s voice was nonjudgmental and gentle, ripping Mac from his thoughts. Mac pulled his hand back, almost embarrassed over having been caught messing with stuff that wasn’t his own. 

“I - I mean, a little? It’s not my main interest or anything, but I do like building things.” That was an understatement for sure; Jack had teased him about how he could probably build an entire Time Machine, just from a couple of paper clips.

“Really? That’s awesome dude - would you happen to know what we’re doing wrong? We can’t quite make them work.”

“I might be able to help.” It wasn’t quite helping with bombs, but for a moment Mac could feel the rush of happiness from being needed again, “Do you have a paper and pen?”

It was all going much better than Mac had imagined it would, the whole tour and writing down some notes for the people at the workshop to look at, having distracted him from the pit of darkness inside his mind. 

As they moved towards the main hall to eat, Mac somehow ended between Fern and Rose, most of the guests ending in between other members, all seemingly having their own conversation going, something accrued to the blonde. In the sea of the many green clad people, he couldn’t help but wonder about something.

“Do you have somebody who runs the commune?” He asked, realizing that with so many people living here, there had to be some kind of hierarchy to make everything run more smoothly, “or is it like a couple of people?” After all he had seen, it wouldn’t quite surprise him if they had some sort of democratic thing going on.

"Oh, yeah! We have a leader,” Rose happily answered, smiling so much her eyes squinted a little, “He is superduper nice, he has a few helpers but he makes sure everything runs smoothly. Strict but fair-”

“Rose,” Fern chastised her in a gentle voice, as they sat down at the table,“It’s not easy to run a place like this, he needs to be strict sometimes.”

“That makes sense. What is his na-”

“Mac! What a pleasant surprise,” a familiar voice said, making Mac turn around, his mind instantly recognizing but not getting his hopes to far up, because the chance of this actually happening almost seemed too small to be true; but when Mac’s eyes landed on the man behind him, he stood up, a smile appearing on his face.

“Murdoc,” he breathed, a warmth running through his body that he couldn’t quite explain. He wasn’t wearing an entirely green outfit, so for a moment Mac wondered if he was a guest here too - but he noticed a couple of green branches decorating his black attire, “Do you live here?”

A soft and sweet chuckle escaped the other man, a lovely smile that made the butterflies in his stomach escape their cocoons and flap around inside his body, filling his blood stream with an almost euphoric feeling.

“I run this place, sweet thing,” the other man gently explained, a glint of happiness in his eyes and something on his face that seemed like pride, “Have you had a tour?”

“I - wow, I didn’t know,” He felt embarrassed over not having asked what Murdoc did, last time they drank coffee, “But yes, I have” he looked shortly at Fern and Rose, “It was really interesting.”

“I’m glad you like it, Mac,” Murdoc answered, the attention of the other going straight into Mac’s mind, the calmness that he had experienced last time he had seen Murdoc appearing once again, “I have to go do my whole speech thing - but we can talk afterwards, if you want to.”

“Sure.”

Murdoc gave him a smile, before moving again, a couple of green clad people following along, that Mac almost hadn’t noticed - he was quick to sit down again, once Murdoc left, not wanting to look to much out of place.

“You know Murdoc,” Fern breathed, almost impressed, once Mac had sat down again.

“- and he totally knew your name!” Rose whispered in an just as impressed tone, “that’s super impressive!”

“I- Impressive?”

Fern let out a soft laughter at the confusion, luckily drowned a little at all the talk around the long table, before the curly haired man continued, “Murdoc doesn’t talk to a lot outside Eden. I think that’s what Rose means.”

“He doesn’t?”

“They’re bene- it’s because people usually don’t understand our community!” She clearly meant to say something different but at the sound of a glass being tapped with metal, Mac became too distracted to ask.

“Hello everybody and welcome to Eden!” His orotund voice made Mac felt captured the moment Murdoc opened his mouth, blue eyes watching the black-clad pale man, with golden jewelry adoring him. For a second, while speaking about the ranch, his dark eyes met Mac’s and it was like electricity went through his blood.

Around an hour later, after having talked more than Mac honestly had for a while, the tiredness crept into his body, enveloping him in a hug, despite his urge to stay. 

The food had been good however; soup with homegrown vegetables and meat from one of their sheep, freshbaked bread, with fresh food and cream afterwards. It didn’t taste like ash; for the first time in a while, ever since returning from Afghanistan, Mac felt like food could taste good. Even if he didn’t like the texture of the carrots in the soup, it didn’t make him want to throw up, he just avoided them a little.

There was going to be more talk and such, but Mac sheepishly admitted to Fern that he was going to retreat. 

Despite the curly haired man clearly trying not to show disappointment on his face, it seeped through a little, though he had a little understanding smile a second after.

“That’s completely alright,” Fern answered, “I hope you’ll come back another time.”

“I would like to,” Mac admitted, jokingly adding, “Your food is too nice for me to stay away,” luckily making the other laugh, a slight warmth on his otherwise slightly sun tanned skin.

“Wonderful! I’ll let Rose know you’re leaving.”

“Sure,” he said, eyes flying over the people in the main hall. The whole atmosphere was nice, he could hear laughter and talking, though it was also bordering on becoming too loud for him.

Perhaps he should have brought along his headphones - but that would have seemed rude too perhaps. His fingers twitched. Had he seemed rude throughout the evening? He hoped not. There hadn’t been moments that made him think about bombs, in fact he had been distracted throughout the entire time.

Rose bid her goodbyes not too sun after, hugging him with a giggle - it was weird to touch another person, especially since he hadn’t been prepared for it, though he managed to fix his wince rather quickly. As they walked back towards the main hall, Mac steering towards his car, he heard Fern chastising the woman about hugging people without asking. 

Just as he got to the car however, a voice called out.

“Mac?”

He turned, looking at Murdoc who walked towards him, almost looking like a king, the green clad people who followed him waiting closer to the hall.

“Are you leaving?”

“I - yeah sorry, I’m getting a little overwhelmed. I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation,” he replied sheepishly, feeling his face heat up as he realized it might have seemed as if he just tried to sneak off to Murdoc.

“Don’t apologize,” Murdoc answered in his almost velvety voice, such an understanding tone to it, “it is not your fault - but Mac-“

Murdoc stepped forward and Mac froze; if he raised his hands he would be touching Murdoc’s chest. It felt like the butterflies inside his stomach had overpopulated and despite being tired, he suddenly felt like he was ready to run a marathon through a desert, just to be looked at the way that Murdoc looked at him right now.

“I feel something special in you, Mac,” he explained, the word special making Mac inhale just a little sharper, “why don’t you come by next week? Or perhaps we can go drink coffee again?”

He wants to see me again he wants to see me again he wants to see me again he wants to see me again

His mind kept screaming and Mac almost didn’t recognize his own voice as he spoke.

“Isn’t.. isn’t Eden only open to the public once a month?”

A small, almost bordering on smug smile appeared on the other’s face, a sparkle in his eyes, “you’re always welcome here, Mac - I do have my perks of running the place.”

Just like the first time, Murdoc’s hand on Mac’s own, felt surreal. The rings on his fingers were cold as they pressed against Mac’s skin ever so gently. He took Mac’s hand gently, raised it and gently kissed the back of it, making Mac feel his entire face heat up.

“May I text you again?”

“Please do,” he whispered before he could stop himself, then clearing his voice, giving Murdoc a shy smile, “that would be really nice.”

A soft chuckle left Murdoc.

“That’s agreed on then,” he let go of Mac’s hand and Mac instantly wanted to touch the other again, “I’ll see you soon. Have a safe drive.”

Chapter Text

The sand burnt his bare feet, as if it were tiny piece of hot embers of which he walked upon. The barbed wire around his head, like some sort of disturbing crown, dug into his scalp, yet Mac barely realized, fully focused on the man a few steps in front of him. He instantly went to push down on the bullet wound on the shoulder, feeling the panic as it tried to overwhelm him for a moment.

“It will be alright, Jack,” he heard himself say, Jack’s face becoming paler, sand sticking to his bloody cheek from the coughed up blood.

“I’m going to die, hoss,” his voice sounding so brittle Mac wanted to scream.

“No no - Jack, Jack, stay with me!” Mac begged as he desperately began to wrap the shoulder wound, tears filling his eyes, “Jack, stay with me!” His hands were beginning to shake more and more, the barbed wire crown moving from around his head, uncurling like a snake, scraping along his skin, his uniform, towards his hands. Mac desperately pushed the wire away, tears and snot dripping from his nose, constantly muttering ‘ it’s alright Jack, you’ll be good in no time, I’ll fix this, stay with me’.

“How could you abandon me?”

The words made him freeze and the snake dug into his skin, every wire sinking into it. Jack’s voice had been clear, much more clear than before.

“-what?”

“How could you abandon me?” Jack asked, once more, his eyes looking unfocused despite his clear voice, “After everything?”

“J-Jack I-”

“Maybe you’re truly just… rotten inside. Just like I suspected.”

The water was too cold, making his body shake, his fingers cramp, but Mac didn’t move; it was like he could still feel the sand beneath his bare feet, feel the hot barbed wire sink into his skin. Despite the loud sounds of the water running, Mac could still hear Jack’s voice too loudly, too clearly in his mind.

Maybe you’re truly just rotten inside. Just like I suspected.

It was just a nightmare, but it was one hell of a nightmare, making him throw up and go straight into a panic attack.

Now he stood there, in the cold shower that made his teeth chatter. The taste of ash once again present in his mouth, which didn’t make sense, because he had just thrown up. But then again, Jack in his dream had said it so right. Rotten. If Mac was decaying, then throwing up ash wouldn’t be too big of a deal.

The towels he wiped the cold drops off his water with, were too stiff from being old, making him flinch now and again. The toothbrush made him want to throw up again. The light in the bathroom had to be turned off, because the lightbulb had made a sound. The mere idea of turning on the blow dryer almost made him cry.

So despite hating to have wet hair in bed, he crawled back under the covers, hair making the pillow beneath him damp.

He touched the bulletwound with his good hand, a sound of pain escaping him. He pressed harder, crying out as it made his arm twitch and spasm in pain, made his toes curl and legs tense. 

“You’re sleeping badly these days, aren’t you?”

The truth felt like somebody sunk a scissor into his skin, cutting him open to look inside.

“Is it that obvious?” He asked, trying to sound funny even if it came out more embarrassed. He looked away, looking down at the latte he drank.

It wasn’t even good. But Murdoc had ordered it for him, which was considerate of him. Besides, just like Murdoc had so brilliantly pointed out, Mac was tired . The nightmares haunted him.

“I feel something changed in you,” Murdoc merely answered in a tender tone, “since last we met. Let me guess, nightmares?”

Mac’s eyes flickered up to Murdoc’s, unsure if he should admit to it for a second, but he felt himself nod before he could deny it.

“About… about my friend. My overwatch. And when I got shot.”

Murdoc nodded, but it didn’t seem like pity, at least not to Mac.

“Does the dreams make your hand hurt?”

“What?”

“Sorry. You’re just favoring your left hand when you drink the coffee. Bad energy in it?”

“I… it hurts most of the time, if I’m being honest.”

“No painkillers?”

“Oh, I have a ton at home. But they make me feel weird.”

Murdoc nodded, an understanding hum leaving him.

“Can.. we talk about something else?” Mac requested, hoping the other wouldn’t mind, “I have a ton of questions about the commune.”

The change in subject made Murdoc smile, almost proudly, an amused chuckle leaving him. Clearly happy to talk about it.

“Sure, sweet thing. Give me all your questions.”

“Why?”

“Why what, Mac?” He asked, a smile still on his face but with an eyebrow raised now.

“Why did you make a commune? How did it start?”

“It just… happened by accident, if I’m being honest,” Murdoc replied, to which Mac raised an eyebrow himself.

“How do you accidentally start a commune?”

“... you buy a large piece of property and then thinks about renting out a couple of rooms. Then you start a couple of projects and then one thing leads to another - and then, the easiest thing to do is just to make the commune official.”

“Huh.”

“Was that a satisfying answer?” There was a tease to his voice, a sparkle in his eyes and Mac felt himself blush a little.

“I’m just curious,” he admitted, licking his bottom lip, looking down at the coffee once more, the darkness gnawing at the back of his mind, reminding him how he was going to be alone once he returned home. Then the ash and the roots of decay would spread throughout his body. Mac took another sip of the coffee, “It’s not like I’m judgin’ or anything.”

“I’m only teasing you, Mac. Did you like visiting?” His voice was sweet once again, softness seeping into it and Mac nodded after putting down the cup.

“I did. A lot. That’s why I’m also so curious.”

“You can ask more,” Murdoc continued, his foot moving beneath the table and Mac could feel the other’s expensive leather brogue gently run along his exposed ankle, “I don’t mind, Mac.”

A rush went through his body, Mac’s eyes meeting Murdoc’s, who was still smiling. It was such a simple thing, nothing inherently sexual about it, yet it felt like one of the most erotic moments Mac had ever been in.

“You sure?”

“Confidently so. I’m happy to reply to anything,” Murdoc confirmed, letting the side of his shoe rest against Mac’s shin, which calmed him more than it should “Besides, Fern is hoping to see you soon again. Rose too.”

“well,” he needed to think about more questions, so many of them had been overwhelming ever since he visited the Ranch, but now every question sept between his fingers like sand. Murdoc took another sip of his coffee, buying Mac a couple of seconds more.

“How many people are you at Eden?”

“Around 60, I think. Sometimes people travel. It really depends on how we’re counting. We have people who only live here a couple of months a year.”

“That’s a lot.”

“It is. I never thought we would be this many.”

“Are there any kids?”

“No,” Murdoc answered, “We prefer not to have any kids around. The youngest member is 21. Or 22, I don’t remember when his birthday is.”

“Ah - how come?”

Murdoc shrugged, “A lot of different reasons. Generally we prefer kids to have a more stable structure than what we can offer. Plus, it’s not really in our focus, you know?” 

Mac nodded carefully, mind flickering through the many faces of people wearing green that he had seen at Eden, “Makes sense, yeah.”

“Besides, we like to smoke the occasional joint,” He added, almost in a stage whisper, wagging his eyebrows, making Mac unable to keep in his laughter. When was the last time he had laughed, if looking past his visit to Eden? Mac wasn’t even sure. It felt like drinking fresh, cold water.

“Oh no,” he answered, “how terrible.” In a way, he really wanted to see Murdoc high. See if he was a giggly-kind of high or somber, maybe just a snacker.

“Indeed,” Murdoc agreed cheerfully, “But in all seriousness, it was a group decision. I don’t have the final vote like that.”

Mac nodded, thoughts beginning to start again, like a car turning on, engine starting up, getting ready to race. 

“Are you guys religious?” 

“Yes.”

Mac couldn’t help it, his eyes going wide at the simple, yet surprising answer.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“ - oh...”

“Didn’t expect us to?”

“I… no, I mean. I don’t know.”

“I hope it’s not a problem?”

“I - no no of course not. What are you?”

“You mean, religion-wise, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t necessarily think we have a term per say. But we’re not conservative christians, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

A small chuckle left Mac again, but he could still feel curiosity growing in him.

“I didn’t pick up on it when I visited,” he admitted, “Well, Rose mentioned yoga and meditation, I think.”

“We tend not to talk about it at the public meals. It causes many people to become… well, judgemental, for a lack of better words. They expect us to be a cult, then.”

“Oh, yeah okay,” Mac licked his bottom lip, “I’m sorry Murdoc, that must suck.”

Murdoc smiled gently, “it’s okay, sweet thing. I know we’re not a cult.” 

Sweet thing, Murdoc kept calling him sweet thing , and it made his heart flutter strangely fast.

It reminded him of that first day he met Murdoc, or well, walked into him and he ate up the attention raw. He still did so, such simple words as sweet thing making him almost ill with happiness.

“So meditation? yoga?”

“Yes,” Murdoc nodded, “We’re quite nature based. Spiritual. It’s hard to explain - it’s just a part of life at the commune? We celebrate birthdays, new members, do cleansing rituals, things like that.”

“... Cleansing rituals?” Mac repeated, tipping his head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Mmhm, we believe in what can be called darkness and light. Good experiences leave light inside of you, bad experiences leave darkness. It’s really just a way to try to let go of a trauma, you know? trying to wash it off, one might say, trying to work on it and to acknowledge it’s there, but leave it behind.”

Darkness. Light. Murdoc had mentioned darkness before, hadn’t he? Mac wasn’t even sure. But he had surely thought a lot of those words himself, especially ever since getting home.

“That… sounds..”

“Odd?” Murdoc asked, a slight amusement in his tone, “I understand it might seem so, don’t worry.”

“I - no, it’s just…”

He was fidgeting with his fingers, continuously scratching at the skin next to the nail on his right thumb, wondering how to say something, how to explain himself.

“It – kind of makes sense.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Murdoc replied, eyes watching Mac as he looked up again, a small smile appearing on Murdoc’s face, “people usually get scared away.”

Mac lets out a little huff, “I used to work with bombs, a few rituals doesn’t scare me.”

Murdoc laughed again and Mac already felt addicted to that sound, the way there would appear wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, how his teeth would be exposed; the foot resting against his shin, moving in a caressing motion for just a moment.

“I knew you were special,” Murdoc said, “From the moment I saw you.”

Once again, Murdoc had kissed his hand. His lips had touched Mac’s skin like a blessing in disguise and washed away any of those thoughts in the back of Mac’s mind, all the alarm bells that were trying to warn him of the red flags.

No, because here afterwards, he felt like he was euphoric, their different conversations constantly playing on repeat in his mind. 

Murdoc understood him in a way he almost hadn’t expected anyone to understand him and despite the pain in Mac’s arm and shoulder, he kept increasing the speed on his run. Mind not really in the moment, the running route was still familiar despite having been away from so long.

Murdoc had spoken of darkness and light, as if it simply made sense.

And it did. Sure, it wasn’t black and white, but nothing really was. Besides, sometimes the most complicated problems were offered simple solutions, and though Mac knew to be skeptical for such solutions, the urge to see Murdoc again, visit the ranch again. Well.

It kept him running. He ran the route quicker than usual, still thinking of Murdoc.

In fact, he couldn’t stop thinking about the older man, with the dark majestic outfits, the jewelry adorning him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Murdoc’s lips felt, not only against his hand, put perhaps against his own lips. 

If asked, Murdoc was actually rather proud of how Angus hadn’t run off at the mention of religion. He could see the gears inside that beautiful head of his while they talked, and Murdoc knew he had to control the conversation, make sure the other didn’t notice a few of the warning signs. Or that he, at the very least, didn’t let them deter him.

And it worked; even better, Murdoc had seen how Angus shuddered when he had touched him, with something as simple as his shoe. Running his shoe along the shin, not even touching him! Sweet little bird. Stupid lamb.

So yes, he gave the one another kiss on the hand - how could he not? The broken hand of course, the very same one that Murdoc had made sure Angus wouldn’t be able to use, not the way he used to, at least. 

The little locked room didn’t have any windows - it was on purpose of course, he didn’t need anyone watching what he was doing. Though most of his little pack of followers probably wouldn’t think too much about it, he doubted somebody like Fern would do anything other than just roll his eyes and then continue on his way.

It was even hidden inside his closet, which amused him. Not because Murdoc wasn’t open about his sexuality, merely because he wasn’t open with his stalking tendencies. Well, only one person really. Besides, it was for Angus’ own good.

Said Angus, had been on a run, quicker than usual, taken a shower and eaten - Murdoc had followed every step except the running route, via his hidden cameras. Watched how sweet Angus had washed the sweat off from the run, his beautiful body slowly getting hidden by the steam in the bathroom.

But now his bird was laying in his bed, clearly ready to sleep. Murdoc had almost expected him to go straight to sleep, yet Angus didn’t. He turned and tossed for a little while, Murdoc watching through the screen how he couldn’t settle.

Angus picked up his phone again and Murdoc changed to the second camera in the room, hoping to see better what the other was looking at. He couldn’t see it exactly, but oh, he could see the most important part. There had been a flash of naked body parts. Murdoc might not be as brilliant as his wonderful bird, but he knew porn when he saw it.

He felt something dark stirring inside of him, his cock hardened a little, changing back so he could see Angus laying fully in his bed. He hadn’t seen Angus touch himself a lot, especially not this openly, but now, well. There was still a little sun, shining into the room, which made his body shine a little, almost golden like.

And oh, what a pleasant surprise. Sweet Angus didn’t use headphones. 

The perks of living alone. Neither did Murdoc. Angus’ breathing audible through Murdoc’s speakers.

He could see how Angus took his time choosing, fingers writing now and again, scrolling. Then he even pushed the blanket aside, exposing his bottom half, and my, wasn’t that a sight. Even with his boxers on, the sight made Murdoc’s mouth water. He wanted to cover Angus in bites, he wanted to press down on that gunshot scar of his, tie him up, make him screen.

Would he - would Murdoc really have the honor of seeing Angus fully naked while touching himself?

A rush of power went through Murdoc, seeing Angus put the phone down next to him, then pushing down his boxers, unknowingly exposing himself to Murdoc. Murdoc zoomed in a little, letting out a pleased sigh at the sight of the naked man. What a man. Such a pretty body, that he didn’t take well enough care of. But Murdoc would change that, he would make sure his pretty Angus got back his health. Just so he could rip it from him again.

Murdoc wanted to rip him apart, cut him up and eat his heart raw, while Angus watched, begged for more.

The sound from Angus’ video started and Murdoc watched how Angus spread his legs, exposing his pretty cunt, with that sweet little cock. Rubbed the palm of his hands against it.

Moans that didn’t belong to Angus played in the bedroom that Murdoc watched, Angus face hidden behind the raised phone. It annoyed Murdoc a little, but at the same time, he couldn’t complain; Angus was running two fingers along the lips of the front hole, then using said, now wet, fingers to rub along his clit, breathy sighs audible.

Oh if Angus only knew he had an audience- would he spread his legs some more, moan a little louder? 

There was the unmistakable sound of fucking coming from Angus’ phone, that almost swallowed up Angus small whimpers as he kept rubbing his little cock.

Murdoc pressed his own hand down on his hardened cock. Wouldn’t there be something poetic about jerking off while Angus did the same? Unaware of having a buddy.

Murdoc pulled out his own cock, just the right time, as Mac then sunk a finger into his hole, moaning a little louder. The fact that he was watching gay porn like this, all open and vulnerable, was like a treat to Murdoc. It was a good thing he always recorded everything and saved them. He took a screenshot to print out later, perhaps he should hang it on his wall inside his little office, zoomed in on Angus’ sweet, wet cunt, a finger on the broken hand sinking into it. Soon, soon it would be Murdoc who could sink his fingers into Angus’ front hole, the only one allowed to.

Murdoc began jerking himself off, using a strategically placed bottle of lube next to him, to make the glide easier. Angus was touching himself like such a good boy, moaning a little louder now and again, all breathy tone and whimpers.

Murdoc had already considered himself lucky, for getting a show like this, the possibility to watch Angus in such a vulnerable and beautiful moment, but then it got even better.

“Mur-“

Was he dreaming? Murdoc had to hold himself at the root of the cock to keep himself from coming. Was Angus just moaning random words or?

“ Murdoc ”

Oh what a pleasant surprise . Much more extraordinary than what he had suspected would happen tonight. 

Angus was so beautiful, phone abandoned next to him - and was that a dark haired man on the phone fucking a blonde one? My my, his little genius was really outliving his fantasy. 

Murdoc’s hand moved on his now slightly leaking member, moaning along to the sweet sounds of his Angus.

Angus was fucking himself on three fingers, the broken hand clearly cramping now and again, making him whimper - yet it didn’t stop him, and Murdoc moaned, imagining the pain the other was going through, all because of him, of the shot he had deliberately delivered so beautifully.

The blonde’s other hand was stroking his cock, mouth open, legs bending, toes curling- Murdoc couldn’t wait to have Angus beneath him like that, being fucked by Murdoc’s cock.

Angus was clearly close to coming and Murdoc worked his cock faster, watching the closed eyes, pale skin with the beautiful scars, wondering how pretty Angus would look once Murdoc really got his hands around him, messed his mind up even more than it already was.

His cute, lovely sounds were getting louder and Murdoc had to bite his lip, like a horny teenager, to keep in his own moans and be able to just focus on Angus’ sounds. The porn Angus had been watching had stopped, but that clearly didn’t matter for his little genius, caught up inside his own erotic fantasy, Murdoc touching his cock faster, watching the screen intensely, barely blinking.

His legs tensed before moving, trying to fuck himself even harder on his fingers, Angus mouth letting out high-pitched “ Murdoc-Murdoc-Murdoc” his hands working overtime, the slick, wet sound of his fingers pressing into his fronthole.

Then Angus came, almost with a scream, muscles spasming, making him twist in what was clearly pain - and well, how was Murdoc supposed to hold back, after a sight like that? 

Murdoc came harder than he had for a while, the seed getting on his fingers, dripping a little on the floor as he breathed a little deeper, holding still now, watching Angus. 

He was panting, laying completely still, save the quick movement of his chest. He pulled his fingers out from himself, making Murdoc want to be in the room, lick them clean. Force Angus to kiss him then, make the other taste himself. Maybe fuck him again.

Murdoc licked his bottom lip, tasted blood; a grin appeared on his face. He had bitten his lip so hard, to stay quiet, that he had broken the skin! Oh, how amusing. He cleaned himself up with a pleased humming melody leaving him, eyes flickering to Angus on the screen now and again, seeing him trying to bend and move the broken arm. 

Cute little bird, with his broken wing. 

Begging for Murdoc to take care of him.

Chapter Text

“Oh my god, you came!” 

Mac couldn’t help but smile at Rose’s thrilled voice, as she spotted him and immediately went to him, clearly wanting to hug him - she stopped a step from him though, licking her bottom lip.

“Can I hug you?”

“Sure-” Mac barely managed to finish before her arms were around him, a happy sound leaving her. The feeling of being hugged was still unfamiliar but Mac tried not to think about it too much, giving Rose his best smile as she pulled back, “I’m glad you’re here!”

“We invited him, Rose,” Fern said, the curly haired man appearing as well, smiling at Mac; he was, like last time and just like Rose, glad fully in green, “but it’s good to see you again, Mac.”

“Likewise,” Mac smiled, happy that Fern didn’t demand a hug. He suspected the other man might have figured out that Mac struggled a little, after he heard him tell Rose to ask permission first, the last time, “I’ve looked forward to it.”

“Aa, you gotta see the lambs! We got two new, they’re super adorable,” Rose continued happily, grinning as Fern tousled her red hair.

“Let the man breathe, Rosey - we got a little while before we eat, we’ll have time to see the lambs,” Fern said, light in his eyes as he looked over at Mac again, “And the windmill project perhaps.”

“I would love to see both things,” Mac replied with a grin, following along the two green wearing people, Rose clapping her hands, talking about how the lambs were born in the middle of the night and didn’t have names yet.

It felt like he left the sadness and trauma in the car, instead stepping into some sort of dream world.

It was the day after one of his last visits at the Eden Ranch. Mac hadn’t quite realized how many times he had been there, but now it felt less stressful to go there. In fact, he quite liked it. Liked the people he had met. Liked Murdoc… A lot. 

“- and they’re not like, super weird?”

Mac felt himself actually smile outside of the ranch for once, at Bozer’s unsure question. It was very much in character for his childhood friend to ask that.

“No, Boze, I swear, they’re all super nice.”

“And they’re not a cult? Because it sounds cult-like - and I’ve seen Midsommar, Mac, the movie is a piece of art, but also scary as fuck, I don’t know if I could save you from them.”

“They’re not a cult, Bozer, don’t worry. You - also are you comparing them to a fictional Swedish cult, dude? They’re not even remotely like that.”

“So no random killing or white people bloodline shit?”

“No,” he said, letting out a sigh, before taking another sip of his beer, “they’re like… a couple of hippies who like green energy, meditating and stuff like that.” That was oversimplifying it, sure, but Mac didn’t want Bozer to worry.

“Huh. Yeah okay, that doesn’t sound very ‘let’s sacrifice your ex in a bear costume’-like.”

“Nope. They’re cool. Nice. The doctor too.”

“- And you actually followed his advice? On the painkillers.”

“I try,” Mac felt like lying, saying he was fully doing as he was supposed to. Even though Dr. Crow  had been nice to him about it.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Angus Macgyver, would you?” 

The question, coming from an unknown voice behind him, made Mac flinch before he quickly turned around.

An older man had an apologetic smile on his face. Like everybody else, he wore different shades of green, the suit-shirt he wore was an olive green, with a couple of pens in the breast pocket, together with what looked like a pair of scissors. He was on the older side, big dark eyebrows, but with eyes that looked so kind Mac almost instantly wanted to trust him.

“I apologize,” the stranger said, raising his hands in front of him, bending his head a little, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It’s okay,” Mac lied, giving his best smile, as if the other hadn’t reminded him shortly of the paranoia that had followed him around, ever since he came home, “it’s what happens… I don’t think we have met?”

“Oh no, we haven’t, look at me, forgetting my manners,” the man laughed at himself, offering a hand to Mac, “I’m Crow. I’m the doctor here in Eden.”

“Oh.” Mac said, shaking his hand shortly, ignoring the slight pain, “ I forgot there was a doctor here.” He had been told about a doctor at the first tour, if he remembered correctly.

Crow, as the man apparently was called, just smiled, his black hair with gray strands nicely brushed back, pepper and salt like beard stubbles.

“Well, it’s a big place,” he said understandingly, “you can’t know everyone just yet.”

Mac nodded along, licking his bottom lip. Yet. You can’t know everyone just yet. Until now, he hadn’t talked to anybody else but Rose and Fern, his eyes darting over to look at them. Rose was surrounded by sheep in the fold, unable to escape them giggling as she fed them apple pieces and almost toppling over, while Fern was watching her on the outside, leaning against the wooden fence while laughing. That Mac wanted. To be able to just enjoy life, without the memories of the desert, of the blood, of the gunshot, swarming his mind now and again, making even touching new things overwhelming. The idea of touching another animal, even idea of touching the wooden fence right now felt nauseating to him and-

“They’re sweet, aren’t they?”

He looked back at Dr. Crow again, embarrassed that he had just forgotten that the other was there.

“Yeah, they are... They’ve been very kind to me.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve to feel welcome here, Mac. Murdoc has spoken greatly of you.”

Mac felt his face heat up instantly and the older man chuckled at the sight, not really helping the situation, pushing up his round glasses that even had a green rim, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Subject change subject change subject change, was the only thing going through Mac’s mind.

“What’s up with the weird nature names?”

Dr. Crow laughed at the question, a deep and happy sound, even touching his belly. It reminded him of when Grandpa Harry would laugh deeply, amused by something silly.

“What about you?” Mac gave changing the subject a shot, hoping Bozer won’t notice, even though he knew the other would. They didn’t even need to be in the same room.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, brother,” Bozer pointed out and Mac winced, “you should take those meds regularly and you know it. Have you started physical therapy yet?”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Mac hoped the other would let it be, but by the tone of the voice, he doubted it, “no. Not yet.”

“Mac.”

“Wilt.”

“You’re making me consider driving to you, just so I can kick your ass and get you into therapy.”

“Cute that you think you can kick my ass.”

“Leanne has been teaching me stuff, you know, you’ll be down in less than a minute.”

“Attacking a veteran, Bozer? What would your dad say?”

“Oh my god, now you’re pulling the veteran card, huh?”

“When it’s useful, yes.”

“So no physical therapy?”

“I tried meditation.”

“That is not the same thing. ”

“I know. But it was nice.”

“How come you don’t take your medication?”

His question was genuine, he sounded caring. The ice pack on the back of his shoulder felt nice. Mac had to admit that.

“It makes me feel weird,” he muttered, Dr. Crow letting out a hum at the answer. He clearly wasn’t going to let it go.

“Are you doing physical therapy?”

“No sir.” For a moment, he almost felt like he was back in the military.

“How come?”

Mac didn’t answer. It was hard to explain. In particular, because Mac didn’t always know why. Sometimes, he just didn’t want to feel numb, or feel weird. Other days, it was since he knew he deserved the pain. Why did it even matter? He would become a carcass at some point anyways.

“Angus, I’m not your doctor. I can’t tell you to do certain things. But if you don’t do any kind of exercises or try to help your body adjust to this, it’s going to get worse.”

Mac nodded, “I know.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Mac’s gaze flickered up to look at the older man. He was resting against the table. Mac gave a small nod, looking down at his feet dangling from the little medical bed. Damn his arm for cramping while Fern was there. The curly haired man had looked so worried, even when Mac told him it was fine.

“Would I be able to convince to take the meds? Just once in a while. It would make your arm and shoulder feel better. Perhaps, it would help mentally too.”

Mac looked at his feet, then just shrugged, wincing at the movement.

“What if you took them while here? Then we can make sure you’re okay?”

“I honestly don’t think I’m a meditation kind of guy,” Mac told Rose as he was physically dragged along - in his good arm - Fern walking next to them, hands in the pockets of the green loose pants.

“It’s literally just sitting in silence,” Fern pointed out, “Murdoc talks, tells you what to think of.”

“My brain doesn’t shut up enough for that,” he pointed out, though he still followed who he liked to consider his new friends, Rose tugging along on the shirt he wore.

“It will make sense, I swear !” The freckled woman pointed out, “if nothing, you can just sit and relax, but Murdoc has something about him! He is special!”

Most of the people Mac had seen the last couple of times were all together in the big hall and Mac sat down on the ground, merely sitting where Rose told him to.

“Do I have to do anything specific?” He asked Fern in a whisper, nervousness washing over him for a moment - if Murdoc was there, he wanted to be polite, not do anything he wasn’t supposed to.

“No no, don’t worry friend-“ friend friend friend Mac had made a friend , “-you just sit and listen. You can sit however you like. Lay down even, close your eyes if you wanna.”

“Alright,” Murdoc’s voice was crisp over the little stereo speakers that was placed around the hall, “can everybody hear me?”

“I have to go soon,” Mac said, or well, lied. He didn’t have anything specific to do, but constantly defending himself was, well, tiring .

“Mac?”

“Yeah?” There was worry in Bozer’s tone when he said his name. Mac braced himself.

“Maybe… maybe you could pick up my calls a little more?” 

“Sure,” he lied, “I’m sorry Boze.”

“It’s okay man, we just get worried.”

“We?”

“Me, mom, dad, Leanne. Jack too.”

Jack.

Mac remained quiet for a few seconds. Why had they been talking? About what? The paranoia sept into his bones, like a million ants on a mission.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “I’ll try to call you more.”

“Alright. I love you, brother.”

“Love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”

Smoke escaped his nostrils, clouding his vision for a short moment. Not that it mattered. There was just sand everywhere anyways.

Jack didn’t usually smoke. He had picked it up again here and there, after his favorite hamburger kid had left him, honorably discharged and barely alive when Jack kissed his forehead before he left in the chopper.

Now the end of his own tour was coming near. It felt like an eternity, with no sign of life at all from Mac. He was alive, Jack knew that, having pulled a few strings and used a favor that one Desiree Nguyen owed him. Even though Mac had seen all of his messages and Jack saw the little read symbol, he had just needed to be sure.

You’re genius is alive, Desi had written in the message to Jack, he isn’t doing good but he is alive. He hasn’t gone to physical therapy and seemingly not therapy in general. 

He was alive. But the pictures Jack had been sent together with the message, it was barely. He had lost weight. Looked paler, which meant he didn’t go out much. Been wearing those kinds of headphones he used to wear when he and Jack were off duty, when he was overstimulated and would rock a little, sitting next to Jack and playing with one the paper clips Jack always had on him. 

Desi had described how he had flinched at every loud sound and honestly, it didn’t surprise Jack that the kid was struggling with PTSD after everything. It broke his heart, seeing the kid that had wormed himself into Jack’s heart, clearly falling apart.

Jack took another drag of the cigarette.

In one of the pictures, Mac’s hair was a mess too, clearly having been cut at home. It didn’t surprise him, knowing how much Mac despised having too long hair, but he probably hadn’t been able to stomach the trip to the hairdresser.

Jack wished he had been there, to help cut Mac’s hair in the bathroom. Help him stop the lights from being too loud, help him find stuff that would feel nice against his sensitive skin, give him all the paperclips he needed. Make sure he ate properly. 

Kiss him. On the mouth. Just like he should have done before Mac left, hadn’t he been such a coward.

His new EOD to follow along, Eric, was kind. Brilliant too, saving people just like Mac had, but it was different. He wasn’t like Mac was. Eric knew that. Jack knew that he knew, because the other had been quite upfront, telling Jack that he wouldn’t be able to replace Mac. He wasn’t Angus Macgyver . Jack had said he didn’t expect him to be.

He made sure Eric was safe. It was his job, sure, that was why he was there, but he was even more intense than before, scared that what happened with Mac would repeat. That he would have to cradle Eric in his arms, bloody and hurt, telling the younger man that it was okay, that he would be fine. Lie. Again.

Eric mumbled about him being paranoid once and again, but Jack didn’t say anything. He just wanted to make sure the other man got home to his wife. 

Because yes, Mac was alive, but he clearly wasn’t fine. Jack sometimes dreamt of his blonde genius, bloody and hurt, but eyes watching Jack, lovingly and sweet.

He took another drag of the cigarette, took out his phone. No messages. No calls. No voicemails.

He sighed, the smoke spilling from his mouth like the sadness filling his body. The moment he was free, he was going to find Mac. Apologize. He looked at the pictures from Desi again. 

Took in how he had changed. How he left the house he used to talk about, cap down in his eyes, sunglasses sometimes, going to the same store. The way he shrunk in each picture, getting thinner, hair sometimes so dirty Jack knew that Mac could barely touch it. How he walked into some goth looking dude, who helped him up from the ground again.

Jack exited the pictures, instead going to the messages with Mac, all unanswered. He hesitated, then threw the cigarette, killing it with his boot against the sand. He should go find Eric, make sure the dude had drunk enough water. 

Yet, he pressed the call button.

Waited.

Every beeping sound from it, sounding like the ticking down from a bomb. Yet, there were no explosions in the end. Instead just the same speech Jack had come to know rather well at this point. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Angus Macgyver! I can't pick up the phone right now, but leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you.”

Then that familiar tone of the voicemail beep and Jack closed his eyes, speaking before he could stop himself. 

“Hi Mac- It’s Jack. Please pick up the phone, you’re makin’ me worried, hoss. Please. I just want to talk to you. Doesn’t even have to be for long. I miss you. I’ll let you know when I finish my tour, I won’t be gone forever… Mac. If I’ve done something, please tell me. I’m sorry I haven't been able to be there for you, after you came home. Please hoss-”

It was right there on his tongue, the I love you, yet he couldn’t make himself say it.

“- I miss you. I promise I’ll find you once I’m home, give you a giant hug. Please call me.”

He ended the call, putting the phone back in his pocket, hiding his face in his hands. He wanted so deeply to admit to the other man, that he had seen pictures, that he knew how badly Mac was doing. But letting Mac know, well, Jack wasn’t sure Mac would understand it, in the mindset he seemed to be in. It would probably just break his trust.

Jack got up from the chair, drying some sweat off his forehead. He should find Eric.

Mac curled over, rocking back and forth while sitting at the edge of the bed. He couldn’t stop crying and it felt disgusting, making him nauseous. His own sobs went straight to his head, even the noise canceling headphones didn’t help, because he could feel the sobs deep within his body.

Jack’s voicemail had almost been overwhelming, to the point where Mac could barely listen to its end before breaking into tears.

He felt so fucking bad, but at the same time upset, because Jack was suppose to forget him. Get over him, forget Mac’s rotting body and mind, let him turn into ash, like all the food he ate when not outside the Eden ranch.

He was about to press the call button, like he had wanted so many times before, when the screen lit up with an incoming call.call.

Perhaps, hoping Dalton would just abandon Macgyver had been a little too optimistic. He seemed to have a soft spot for the blonde genius; perhaps it was love, maybe it was purely platonic. It didn’t matter, whatever it was.

Angus only needed his love, Dalton needed to stay away. He was ruining Murdoc’s plans, with voicemails like that. Because Angus was clearly getting affected by them, his little bird crying and sobbing like an upset child in his bedroom, the same bedroom of which Murdoc had seen him touch himself, just a little less than two weeks ago.

He liked Angus more when he sobbed of pleasure, liked it more when he was the one who made Angus feel like this. Whether it was from the trauma that he created or the way he had infected Angus’ mind, Murdoc owned him.

Not some stupid military man from Texas, who seemingly had cast his love on the wrong bird. No, because Murdoc knew that Angus needed, no, deserved something better than a farmer that knew how to shoot, delta or not. Jack Dalton would never understand Angus’ pure brilliance, he would never be able to clip his wings and take care of him, just like Angus needed. Murdoc would be able to.

“- I miss you. I promise I’ll find you once I’m home, give you a giant hug. Please call me.”

Murdoc felt his fingers tighten into fists, as he heard that stupid soldier’s words. Come find him? No. Why couldn’t Dalton just leave them alone? Murdoc rolled his eyes.

He could ruin everything with those stupids thoughts and ideas that he could plant in Angus’ head, leading his little lamb away from slaughter. 

By the sight - and the sound - of Angus’ reactions, it clearly affected him. 

Was it jealousy that sept into Murdoc’s body? Perhaps. Murdoc had never been above jealousy - that was what happened when you didn’t learn how to share your toys. And Angus Macgyver was not for sharing, especially not for Agent Jack Wyatt Dalton.

Even though he had to admit, listening to Angus’ cries was quite the treat. He wondered if he could make the blonde just as upset at another time, that he would almost force his body into a panic attack. It was pathetic, really.

But Angus was pathetic, because Murdoc made him so.

Murdoc zoomed in on the phone as Angus began to press some buttons after having cried most of whatever feelings he had inside, out. Yet another time did he thank himself for spending some extra money on making sure he had quality stuff.

At the sight of Jack Dalton’s name and phone number, Angus’ thumb just above the call button, well, Murdoc had to step in, didn't he? He couldn’t have his little bird go and make some mistakes, not now.

With swift movements Murdoc took the phone from the table with one hand, the other hand turning off the sound of his stalking set up - and hurried to open his contacts, pressing Angus.

He put the phone to his ear, watching how his sweet little bird flinched as the phone in his hand suddenly rang. He watched Angus hesitate for two minutes, quickly drying off his eyes like an adorable being, as if he was going to pretend he hadn’t just cried. He was such a joy to watch.

Finally Angus pressed the accept call button, making Murdoc grin like a cat who just cornered a mouse. Effectively distracting Angus from Jack Dalton.

He might not have an exact plan of what to say, but as he saw Angus raise the phone to his ear, he found himself not caring. He would figure something out.

“Hello?”

“Mac!” He greeted the other with a happy voice, as if he didn’t know that the other had just been sobbing his heart out for three minutes straight, “am I interrupting anything?”

“No no, of course not,” he heard a small sniffle, and oh, such a little thing to notice but of course he would notice sweet Angus’ little signs; he was giving the other all the attention after all, “what’s up?”

“Are you sure?” He asked, letting worry seep into his tone, even though he was still smiling, hidden inside his wonderful little control room, “you sound off?”

“Uhm, yeah I’m fine, just… uhm. Got something in my throat.”

Murdoc could see on the screen how the younger man panicked and picked at his pants, clearly unsure of what to say. Even looking for some napkins in his bedside drawer.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Murdoc said, leaning forward to run a finger over the screen, tracing the sight of Angus, who was sitting with his upper body bent forward, as if to make himself smaller, so Murdoc added a small; “you sound upset.”

“It’s not important,” his sweet voice was almost hard to hear, “I just got sad… over a voicemail.”

“A voicemail?” Murdoc repeated, as if he didn’t already know the entire situation, saying it with a surprise in his voice, “are you okay, sweet thing?”

“Yeah I’m okay,” Angus said, “I just… you remember I mentioned Jack?”

“Your friend from the army?” Murdoc sounded hesitant, as if he didn’t already fully know who said Jack was. As if he hadn’t made somebody in the cult hack their way in and find the files there were on the man - and boy was there files on the man. Even more reason to keep him away from his sweet lamb. Or calf, really, if one considered his name, Angus Macgyver.

“Was he the one who called?”

“I… yes. He left a voicemail.”

“And it upset you?”

“Yes I - I don’t know why. I think… it’s a mixture of..” he sat still on the screen, barely moving and if it hadn’t been for the vague sound of breathing over the phone, Murdoc would have almost thought he had stopped doing that too, “I miss him. But at the same time I don’t know if I want to see him.”

“Hm,” Murdoc said, as if he was considering the entire dilemma, “you don’t have to see him, isn’t he still in Afghanistan?”

“He is, yes. But I feel bad for, well. Abandoning him.”

“Wasn’t it him who abandoned you?” Murdoc asked softly, hoping Angus wouldn’t notice how this was almost a needle with poison being stuck into his skin, “he stayed there, after all, despite you being hurt.”

Silence.

Murdoc listened, excitement filling his entire body. Then a sniffle. Adorable. He almost wished was there to lick up those sweet tears, and force the needle of manipulation into Angus’ heart.

“I - I suppose,” he hiccuped finally, the throaty tone of his voice proving he was crying again and Murdoc watched the screen as Angus laid down at the bed, drying off a tear with a napkin, “I… what did you call me for? Before I went into full sad mode.”

Murdoc chuckled softly. He supposed he had an idea. Especially now that he put in the thought of Jack abandoning Angus, inside his head. Murdoc wouldn’t abandon him.

“I was wondering if you want to join the commune, actually,” he asked, licking his bottom lip, “or well, consider it. We make a dinner for new member candidates, you’ll meet some of the others then.”

“I… really?”

“Really Mac. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little out of the blue, but you’re…” mine, “-special. I can see it in you. You just have so much darkness that blinds you.”

“I…”

“You don’t have to decide now, of course, and if you say yes, it’s not a binding agreement even with our dinner,” Murdoc explained, “you don’t have to move here either, if you don’t want to.”

“Wow I…”

“I’m sorry sweet thing,” Murdoc cooed, a small smile on his face as he watched Angus’ unsure face through the screen, “I should have waited to ask, I know you’re upset-“

“No no, it’s okay,” he replied, sitting up in the bed, “I would… I would like to, I think.”

“You can come by tomorrow if you want? We can talk about it.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, “I would like that.”

“Wonderful, sweet Mac. Would 10 am be alright?”

“Sure… Murdoc?”

“Yes?”

Murdoc watched how his sweet Angus ran a hand through his hair, how he bit his lip.

“I - I think you’re special too.”

Murdoc couldn’t help but grin.

“Thank you, Mac. We can talk some more tomorrow. I’ll take some time off to talk with you.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Mac tried to inject, but Murdoc cut him off, letting some charm bleed into his words.

“I want to spend time with you, Mac. As much as possible.”

He could hear his breathing, see how he blushed through the screen.

“Likewise, Murdoc, I… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, we will. Sleep well, sweet thing.”

Murdoc waited for Angus to hang up, before putting the phone down, turning on the sound on the surveillance again, watching the blonde genius. He watched how the finger was over that call button again, the one to call Jack.

But Angus didn’t call Jack. Instead he closed the phone and set it aside, letting himself fall back on the bed again.

Murdoc couldn’t help but laugh.

Chapter Text

When Mac arrived the next day, after having eaten breakfast and taken a shower, trying to wash away yesterday's breakdown, he didn’t have to walk long towards the main building before spotting Murdoc in the hall, talking with some members.

The dark haired man was always easy to distinguish from the other members, since he was the only one to not wear green. While not wearing green made Mac feel as if he stood out too much, Murdoc wearing black just… fit in. Made sense.

Mac couldn’t quite explain why. 

Maybe, like Rose and Fern had said, Murdoc wasn’t a normal man, but something better. Or at least they alluded to it, even though they didn’t say it out loud or directly. But Murdoc was special. That they said.

Special.

Murdoc stood up as he got nearer the hall, a smile growing on his face at the sight of Mac, making the blonde genius’ heartbeat a little faster.

They were looking at some sort of plans at the table, as far as Mac could spot, Fern having a paper with the windmill designs they had been working on, Dr. Crow giving a wave too.

Mac greeted them all, happily, pretending he didn’t blush as Murdoc kissed his hand as he greeted him.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asked, “I can go find Rose or -“ 

Anxiety over being a problem, a burden crawled up inside him as if suddenly attacked by spiders, birds and cockroaches, all at once, making his entire body hurt and his body twitch involuntarily.

“No no, don’t worry,” Murdoc answered, waving towards the table, before looking over at Mac with a comforting smile, “we were just discussing upcoming projects and such.”

Just from those simple words, birds flew from his body, taking every cockroach and spider along in their claws and beaks.

“Special food plans too,” Fern said, waggling his eyebrows at Mac with a grin on his face, “since we heard somebody is considering joining us.”

Crow let out a huff, pushing up his glasses with one hand and tried giving Fern a seemingly soft slap on the arm, “Let him figure it out himself.”

“Walk with me?” Murdoc’s request distracted him from whatever small banter Fern had started with Crow - and Mac nodded; despite his crying over the phone, Murdoc still wanted to spend time with him. It made Mac’s toes curl, his anxiety spike but he still wanted nothing else than to follow the dark-clad man.

So he did.

They left the hall, walking towards the long fields that Mac liked to watch when overwhelmed. Mac always felt a little underdressed when next to Murdoc; he wore jeans and a simple T-shirt, while Murdoc wore his long gown-like outfit, long sleeve and pants, like a dark king walking between mere mortals. He had asked Rose once why he dressed so differently from the others, making the freckled woman giggle. “He is just dramatic,” she had explained, “we mostly wear green because that’s the color we first knew how to dye when making our own clothes.” She had  shrugged before adding, “then it just became a habit. He is easier to spot then anyway.”

It made sense, Mac supposed, but he also felt like he couldn’t really wear green while there. He wasn’t a member. Not yet anyways. It reminded him of the conversation he and Murdoc had over the phone the day before.

“I’m sorry for crying yesterday when you called,” he said, wanting it out of the system, “I was a little overwhelmed too.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Mac,” Murdoc calmly explained, one of his ring clad fingers reaching out to touch Mac’s hand and - oh . They were holding hands. Mac felt like his normally burning hand suddenly wasn’t hurting anymore. It was probably the excitement distracting his brain, but he liked the idea of it being because of Murdoc. Could Murdoc feel how hot his hand was? How sweaty?

His eyes flickered up to look at Murdoc’s and the older man was looking at him, dark eyes surrounded by long eyelashes.

“It is okay to cry,” Murdoc said, stopping the both of them, as if explaining a simple truth, “but only if crying over the right reason or right person.”

Mac gave a small nod and they continued their walk along the field. The sun was warm today but the wind that caressed Mac’s cheeks now and again helped, while he thought a little. He supposed the other man was right.

“You… don’t think I should cry over Jack?” He asked then, looking over the field with the wheat growing tall, “I don’t think I can hate him.”

Despite everything, Jack had been his friend the entire tour and Mac hadn’t been as close to anybody except Bozer and now, a couple of people at the commune. He had been nothing but sweet, even when Mac had had his burndowns in Afghanistan, asked plainly if he had autism and then what Mac would need for him, told him to set boundaries so Jack understood. It had been unusual but something he remembered fondly.

“I’m not telling you to hate him,” Murdoc said, “I’m merely telling you, that you’re experiencing more darkness when crying over him - yet he is across the world and won’t be back for a while.”

“Yeah,” Mac said, knowing deep inside that a Murdoc was probably right. If Jack had really cared… would he have gone back to the US with Mac? He supposed Jack hadn’t been allowed to, midtour, just because his friend got hurt. Mac tried focusing on the feeling of Murdoc holding his hand instead, how it felt.

“What… exactly happens if I accept this… intro to being a member? It’s like a trial right?” He asked instead.

“It is,” Murdoc confirmed, tugging gently on Mac’s hand, as they turned to walk down along a track with wheat on both sides of them, “the ritual on itself isn’t anything wild. It’s more of a… celebration that you’re beginning to consider joining.”

“Oh,” Mac said, “I thought it was… something wilder.”

Murdoc chuckled, eyes flickering over to Mac once more. Clearly knowing something Mac didn’t. 

“Not this time, I’m afraid” he said, “if you decide you truly want to join and feel ready, then we’ll make a more intense ritual, where you’ll be reborn.”

“Reborn?”

“Yes,” he said wirh a nod, “by the earth. Through submerging in water. Not too different from a baptism of a kind.”

“Oh,” he said, “that makes sense.” In a way. Not quite completely. His mind might be too logical, he reminded himself, but it wasn’t like he felt uncomfortable with the idea. He wasn’t really against their religious beliefs , he didn’t just quite understand it. Not yet, he supposed. 

He liked meditation. The speeches Murdoc have. He liked working on the farm, hell, even the yoga was fine.

But was Murdoc really something more than just… special? They all alluded to it, even Murdoc himself.

Would he need to believe that fully, before becoming a member?

“You have grown quiet.”

“Sorry,” but Murdoc gave his hand a short squeeze as if to say, don’t apologise, “I’m just thinking.”

“Do you want to share those thoughts?” It was encouraging but not a demand .

“I… I won’t be an actual member but not an outsider either. What then?”

Murdoc was silent for a moment.

“In a sense identity less ,” he replied, stopping them gently, the wind playing both of their hair, “until you feel ready to take the step in the right direction.”

Mac remained quiet, looking out at the wheat that bended after the wind, following each other so as not to bend too much and break. 

“And I decide what the right direction is?”

“Correct.”

“I’ve never been a very religious man.” He admitted, looking over at Murdoc.

“You’re rather good at it , though.”

“At what?”

“Being religious.”

“… I don’t feel religious.”

“But you feel the nature, don’t you?” Murdoc asked, tipping his head to the side, “don’t you feel the calmness when we meditate, when we work with our home?”

“I suppose.”

“Don’t you feel as if some of the darkness has left you?”

Mac nodded carefully. Murdoc smiled, seeming pleased.

“But I don’t feel like I act religious.”

“I don’t know if you’re supposed to feel like that,” Murdoc said, “you’re in a good environment when in Eden. A good reality, yes?”

“Yeah.” With you, Mac wanted to say, I’m feeling better when I’m with you. But was that religion? To follow love like this.

“You’ll know when you’re ready,” Murdoc explained, “when you can say without doubt. Then you’ll live forever with us.” With me, it was between the lines. With me.

“What if I take too long?” He whispered, “I - what if I feel ready but isn’t really?”

“You can take however long you want to,” Murdoc explained, moving to touch Mac’s cheek with his free hand, “trust me. You’ll know when.”

Mac nodded.

“I trust you,” he whispered, “I want to be initiated.”

“Then you shall, sweet thing.”

Rose was over the moon when Mac told her after his and Murdoc’s walk, clapping her freckled hands, while Fern was smiling happily, perhaps even a little smugly.

“Bless Murdoc,” she declared, “I know you’ll fit right in! You already do!”

Mac could feel himself blush a little, noting the bless Murdoc, but not thinking much more of it.

“I don’t even know that many people,” He pointed out, almost shyly, “I mostly hang out with you guys.”

“Aw, are you saying we’re not fun company anymore?” Fern teased before making a motion towards one of the few places he hadn’t been as often, but knew to be one of the creative workshops, as if to ask if he wanted to come. Mac just followed along without a second thought, laughing a little at the other’s words, “I didn’t say that, Fern. But more friends might not do any harm.”

“Fern is just jealous,” Rose said, sticking her tongue out at the curly haired man, “He doesn’t wanna lose his bestie.”

“Oh shut up, Rosie, as if it isn’t you.”

It turned out they were going to find him a small branch brooch inside the shop part of the workshops. Their little symbol of Eden, he real

“You’re sure it isn’t… weird of me to wear one?” He asked carefully, as they looked at the few different kinds.

“Nope. It just shows your connection to the place, you know? That you’re initiated,” Rose explained, picking a golden brooch up, turning it around in her hand, “It’s kinda a tradition.”

“Oh.”

“Rose is right,” a voice he didn’t know said, making Mac jump, eyes flickering to the owner of it.

A beautiful black woman dressed in green, just as any other member smiled at him, a smile that Mac recognized for a moment, unable to place it, “it’s a tradition. I’m Luna.”

Mac offered the woman her hand, opening his mouth to ask, but Rose cut him off.

“She was on the horse together when you visited first time!” 

“Oh - that’s where I’ve seen you.”

The woman grinned, nodding along, “Yeah - I usually hangout in the stables or in the jewelry workshop. See anything you like?”

“Luna makes most of the brooches,” Fern said, having stepped away, looking at a scarf in a dark green shade.

“Oh,” his eyes flickered down to look at them once more, “They’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you,” She answered, “anything in particular that you’re looking for?”

“I suppose something that won’t get in the way too much,” he admitted, Luna nodding along, gesturing towards some smaller brooches.

“Rose mentioned you hang out a lot in the workshops, helpin’ Fern,” She said, making Mac nod, eyes flickering over to look at Rose, who had apparently been gossiping, however, the red haired woman too had abandoned him, to look at earrings a few steps over.

“Don’t worry,” The woman said softly, “I live with her, we’re partners, that’s why I know. She speaks greatly of you - and that Murdoc seems to like you too.”

Mac felt himself blush, merely able to nod again, not even quite sure what to answer with the Murdoc part.

“I didn’t know you were girlfriends,” he admits, almost feeling stupid for not knowing, “I’m sorry.” Hadn’t he asked Rose? He couldn’t quite remember, but it made sense that she had a partner within the commune.

“It’s new,” Luna explained, “we’re not that open about it yet, so don’t worry.”

“I thought… this place was uh, understanding? Of lgbt+?” If they werent, well Mac was fucked, it was not the best place to then start something with their leade-

“AH no no, don’t worry, sweet thing, we are,” she was quick to say, “I’m just a lil’ more private. Rose knows that.”

“Ah, I see  - I’m-”

“You don’t have to apologize, you know,” Luna said softly, “everything must seem overwhelming for you. Even with the chaos twins there showing you the ropes.” She nodded towards Fern and Rose, who was arguing over scarf colors… both green.

“They’ve been very kind to me.”

“I’m glad. They’re sweet, both of them.” 

When Mac looked back, Luna had picked up a small, golden but detailed little branch.

“I think this one will fit you well,” she said, “besides, Murdoc likes gold.”

“I - we-”

“iiiiiiih that’s pretty, Luna!” Rose agreed, distracting Mac from trying to explain himself, “That would fit you well, Mac!”

“Definitely,” Fern agreed, so Mac supposed that was decided then.

“It’s really pretty,” he agreed, “I’ll take that then? How much?”

“It’s a gift from us!” Rose declared softly, sneaking her arm in to hold onto Mac’s arm - the good one, Mac noted, as Rose continued, “As a welcoming gift.”

“Should I wear green?” He asked, looking down at the brooch that sat at his t-shirt now.

“Oh, no no -” Rose said, “- I mean you can if you wanna but it's not a demand or anything. Just your usual clothes.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Fern said softly, “It’s literally just like any of our other meals, just with a different drink than usual. It tastes of honey.”

Mac nodded, some of the anxiety slowly disappearing, even if a bit of it stayed at the back of his head, “I’ll see you then.”

They both hugged him, before Mac got into his car.

Despite being told not to worry, worrying was one of Mac’s best talents, especially after coming home from Afghanistan, broken and having to start from the beginning with a new life.

Jack had called, but Mac hadn’t picked up. Instead he had focused on cleaning himself thoroughly, making sure he would look nice to the initiation ceremony, even if there was supposedly nothing too special about it.

He still had nightmares, despite having a good day, of sand and blood, of gunshots and yelling. Of Jack’s worried eyes and his hands, gently touching him, repeatedly apologizing, saying everything would be fine.

Nothing had been fine, however, had it? He hadn’t begun to feel alive before he met Murdoc, before he began to visit Eden. Then things had brightened up, as he was surrounded by happiness all day, every day. Even when overwhelmed, the others understood. Murdoc was always there, like a comforting shadow, making Mac blush at each kiss on his hand. Every time he was called sweet thing, his heart skipped a beat. The date that had started just when Mac was desperate for attention, for being seen and heard, had done so much, changed so much in his life.

The nightmares also made him wonder, however, as he stood in the cold water of the shower, listening to the water hit the tiles. Had everything been different if he had waited for Jack to return? Had it been Jack who Mac had wanted to kiss? Whose hand he wanted to hold. 

He scrubbed his face, trying to wash away the thoughts. 

Calling the initiation meal ‘not a big thing’ felt like a massive understatement to Mac. He had to bloody dance with the others, something about joining their dance of light, carefully grabbing so many hands, as people weaved right and left, singing and laughing, Murdoc watching. Faces flashed by, Rose, Luna, Crow, Fern, so many he hadn’t met yet officially, but recognized from around Eden. It was fun, he had to admit so, he just hadn’t been prepared for it.

“We weren’t really allowed to mention that part,” Fern had said afterwards, carefully clapping Mac’s shoulder, “We were afraid you wouldn’t want to join.”

“I don’t really dance much,” Mac admitted, “but it was fun.”

“And your arm is okay?” Fern asked, a bit of concern slipping into his voice, making Mac smile a little.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It might be a little sore later.”

Fern nodded, leading him to the table, “Crow can always hook you up with some meds.”

The food felt fancier than usual. So many things, a lot of them Mac realized weren't even from the Ranch, meaning they went out to shop. It wasn’t completely abnormal, but he knew they didn’t really do it often. There was a drink shared that he wasn’t allowed to drink yet, he assumed to be a ritual thing. They seemingly slaughtered some lambs too, which he suspected Rose might not be too happy about, but she seemingly didn’t mind, shrugging when Mac asked.

“It’s the way life is,” She answered, “We can’t keep all our lambs and sheep, we would have too many. Some have to die, so some can live and we can eat.” Her voice was eerily calm, almost as if she was repeating something she had heard many times - but before he could think too much about it, he was distracted.

“Well, as most of you know, we’re here to initiate Angus Macgyver today,” Murdoc’s voice was loud and Mac instantly wanted to crawl beneath the table, to pretend to not be there, “we all hope he’ll want to join whenever he feels ready - so a toast, hoping Mac will feel ready in the future!”

The toast was loud, almost overwhelming, but the drink was sweet, indeed like honey, just like he had been told.

Chapter Text

Murdoc watched his little prince with amusement, as he danced with all the others, the music and singing loud. He tapped his foot, watching how everybody swirled and then braided in between each other, like a hypnotizing pattern.

“They clearly worked,” Crow commented next to him, and Murdoc didn't need to look away from following the golden locks of Angus' hair to know that the older man was smiling proudly. When Murdoc had asked for something to drug Angus with, here at the initiation party, he hadn’t really expected steroids to be the other’s suggestion.

“They did,” Murdoc agreed, because his little pet, his project, his wonderful Angus, looked happy and lovely, dancing even more wildly than before the meal, “thank you, Crow.”

“It’s always a pleasure Murdoc,” Crow answered, no, almost crooned,  “you know I enjoy things like these.”

Drugging that was. Crow was a perfect member, a perfect trusted one. Murdoc knew that the man would do everything to Angus that Murdoc requested, no matter how ethically wrong, because Crow was just as depraved as himself, just in a different way. Angus was clearly feeling good, so he would associate their groups with this, which was what Murdoc needed. Then getting him to join as a full fledged member and eventually becoming Murdoc’s, wouldn’t be as hard.

It felt like nothing and everything changed at once. He still went home regularly to sleep, in particular in the beginning, but it slowly began to change, as he was offered a place to sleep in Fern’s little house, that he shared together with another friend, called Jay.

“Like the bird,” Jay had explained while shaking Mac’s hand, “there is a spare room, though it’s not that big. You can always sleep in either mine or Fern’s room if we’re gone, if you want to, though.”

“No no, it’s all fine… Do you travel a lot?”

Jay nodded, “I mean, I’ll still be around, but I travel at least twice a month. I have a small motel chain, but I have people to run it for me. Come - let me show you the room.”

Mac followed along, Jay explaining how he mostly worked with food and the farming on the Ranch, when he wasn’t traveling now and again.

It was in the back of the cabin, next to Jay’s room and opposite his door, was Fern’s room.

The room was, indeed, not big. The two men had clearly tried to make it a little nicer for Mac, which was sweet.

“I got some small plants for you,” Jay said, almost shyly, but with a happy smile, “to keep you company when you sleep here.”

The room was simple, wooden floors and walls, a mattress on the ground, with green bed sheets on, which didn’t really surprise Mac, a small used dresser that had been cleaned, as well as a desk and a chair.

“Rose said you might not like the feeling of our bedsheets and such, so we have a couple of different options for you.”

“It’s perfect,” he said, “I - thank you Jay. You and Fern didn’t have to do this.”

Jay shrugged, his brown eyes barely visible when he smiled so much, “It’s the least thing I can do. I want you to feel comfortable while here - we can take the desk out if it is too much of course.”

Mac shook his head, “No no, I don't mind it being there, then I can use it to work a little.”

“Perfect,” Jay said, “want to go up to the big kitchen and help with dinner?”

“I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook,” Mac admitted shyly, which made Jay laugh, though it didn’t feel like it was degrading.

“You can keep me company then - come on, we’ll see if we can make Fern join us.”

Mac had thought he would never need the SAK a lot now that he wasn’t in the army. It was a familiar thing to have in his pocket, of course, and it was still sentimental to him. But as the days went along, he kept ending up in moments where it was helpful.

Who would have known, even with his shaking hand and pained arm, the SAK would still be useful to him… maybe Mac was truly useful too, then.

He went on walks with Murdoc now and again; sometimes in the morning, other times in the evening after dinner. Before or after meditation, there were no patterns. It didn’t matter, not really, Mac supposed. He just loved spending time with Murdoc and they talked, so much that Mac’s voice sometimes hurt afterwards. about everything and nothing.

Like now, after meditation, while most of the others relaxed, some got back to their chores or work. Murdoc had asked, with warm eyes and a smile on his lip that almost felt hypnotizing, if Mac wanted to go for a walk with him. If asked a couple of years ago, Mac would have found nothing romantic about a walk.

They were walking along the small river, as they had done a few other times, when Murdoc once again reached out to hold his hand. He had done it after that first time, when Mac said he wanted to be initiated, though not a lot. So every time still felt special.

“Do you like it here, Mac?”

“I do,” he answered, “it’s nice out here. Everybody is wonderful.”

“Yet you still go home now and again.”

Mac had hoped the other hadn’t noticed, but he supposed there was no reason to lie about it to Murdoc.

“I… sometimes I just need a place where I’m truly alone.”

Murdoc nodded as Mac looked over at him, his thumb gently caressing Mac’s hand.

“If you had somewhere bigger to be perhaps?” 

Mac looked away again. Thinking for a little. He was used to living fully alone, yes, but he didn’t want to be greedy either. It was nice of Jay and Fern to lend him their third room.

“Maybe. It’s… I just get overwhelmed. Then I can hear people sleep but not next to me, I can hear the sound of the house when the wind blows, it’s jus-“ he ran his other hand over his face in frustration, unsure of how to explain it.

“Sweet thing,” Murdoc’s voice was like the honey drink they had given him at the party, slightly addicting and encouraging at the same time, “there is nothing wrong with that. If you decide you want to stay,” Murdoc stopped them, then his free hand gently pushed back a lock of Mac’s hair, “I’ll make sure you have somewhere that isn’t as overstimulating.”

“I … you don’t have to.” Mac answered carefully.

“But I want to,” Murdoc answered. He gave Mac’s hand a soft squeeze, “I care about you, Mac.”

“I care about you too, Murdoc,” Mac admitted, voice almost in a whisper, “more than I can express.”

“You don’t have to express anything, sweet thing,” Murdoc said, “we got a long time in front of us. Time is a gift. It might not heal all wounds, but new things will sprout from them.”

The medicine made him feel weird at first, dizzy and tired, staggering the first few steps.

“I assume you’ll agree that you shouldn’t be driving until you get used to it,” Dr. Crow had gently said at some point too, “and I know you don’t want to, Mac, but perhaps wearing the arm sling when it’s really bad, wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“I know,” he had answered, knowing full well the other was right, “I just … feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Deserve what?” Dr. Crow had pressed, perhaps to understand a little better, “the relief from pain?”

Mac had nodded.

“Mac,” he had said, “I’m not your actual doctor. I don’t know everything but… from what you have told me, about what happened in Afghanistan, you clearly still struggle with everything and the trauma that happened.”

Mac hadn’t answered.

Dr. Crow had given him an encouraging but still sad smile, “it wasn’t your fault, kid. Allow yourself to be healed from it. Even though it’s hard.”

On the better days, he would join Fern in the workshops, helping them look at different projects. They almost had the windmill ready to go up soon.

There were more projects, more to do than Mac suspected they would ever finish… but in a way, he didn’t really mind.

He felt useful again.

After having come home, having been told he was lucky he hadn’t died, Mac had suspected life would slowly fade into nothing. Like sand, dripping and disappearing from one’s fingers.

Yet as Fern, he and some others of the commune discussed plans, he felt useful.

It wasn’t dismantling bombs, saving people’s lives in that sense. But it was something. Making sure the commune would succeed.

It was just after lunch, most of the commune having time off, except those who preferred to keep working after having eaten. Right now should be a perfect time to go with Fern to the workshop, look at the ideas for the battery to be connected to the windmill, what to use the energy for.

But here he sat.

The bridge at the little river they often bathed in, wasn’t the biggest, but it was sturdy and nice to sit at. Mac watched the water slowly move by. The headphones mostly killed out most noise around him.

The medicine was making him calm, even though it wasn’t that which was the problem for once. It was the many sounds, they felt wrong, bad. The food, good as usual, suddenly felt different in his mouth, on his tongue, the texture having made him want to throw it all up.

The others had noticed, of course they had. When he had taken his painkillers, Jay reappeared from the little cabin, offering Mac his noise canceling headphones. It had been a relief in a way.

Jay sat next to him, the others behind him. Even though he didn’t quite like not being able to see them, he knew they wouldn’t hurt him. They weren’t out to place bombs, they weren’t out to shoot him or kill him. They weren’t out to drown him in the sand, press him down, while he choked on his own blood. 

He dared to think that they cared for him.

Mac rocked back and forth a little on the bridge, trying to force away the thoughts and memories he didn’t like.

It isn’t that unusual for veterans, but you probably already know that, Dr. Crow had said, therapy might help.

Therapy. Mac wasn’t sure if he was ready to face therapy, not yet. Besides, the panic attacks and the overwhelming memories weren’t as often as they used to be.

So here they stayed for a little while longer. He didn’t really know how the others passed time, sometimes he asked to be alone, other times not. Like now, he didn’t like the idea of sitting here alone, because falling into the water wouldn’t be ideal.

Going to the barn with Luna and Rose, turned out to be a rather sweet experience. He had been there before of course, but not with the two ladies only. He petted a couple of horses, before meeting the big draft horse that he had first seen the two of them upon.

“Sunsine,” Luna said, smiling as greatly as she scratched the big horse on the head, “ but we just call him Sunny. He might seem intimidating, but he is just a big baby.”

He had helped cleaning it but hesistated when offered a ride on him.

“He is really sweet,” Rose confirmed, “There is also Tucker, if you want a smaller one.”

The ‘smaller’ Tucker, a mule with a pretty warm brown color, was still big, though in no way as big as Sunshine.

Mac wasn’t the biggest horse person; he could ride, sure, purely the basics. The big animals had always been a tad too much and Mac had other things to do. But with Luna and Rose around, he didn’t feel as scared. They seemed confident around the horses, clearly used to handling them.

Their ride wasn’t the longest one. Just along the fields, Mac on Tucker, as they talked. Tucker was indeed quite nice to ride on, calm and friendly, probably patient too with Mac’s riding.

“We sell some horses once in a while,” Luna explained, “we can’t keep them all, and we have some good genes going. Plus, there is nothing more adorable than a foal once in a while.”

Rose, leaning against Luna’s back, let out a dreamy sigh, “they’re so sweet and playful.”

“Where do you sell them?” Mac carefully asked.

“Auctions and some schools we know take good care of them.”

Everything felt so wholesome. Mac almost felt jealous of the two women, leaning against each other, clearly in love.

He wondered if he would ever have a moment like that with Murdoc, if he would be the two cheesy lovers.

Rose shrugged, just like the time Mac had asked about the lambs. The chicken in her arms was calm, not knowing it would end up at their dinner table sooner or later.

“Some must die, so others can live,” Rose said, almost robotically, eyes moving to look over at Mac, “Besides, we can't have too many, then we wouldn’t be able to take care of them the way they deserve, you know?”

Mac nodded, licking his lips carefully. Her eyes seemed different for just a moment. The monotone way of her voice was a little unsettling but Mac knew she was right. They couldn’t keep every single one of them. The same for the lambs and goats. But sweet Rose stated it almost darkly. 

“Sometimes we need blood for rituals too,” she casually said, putting the chicken down, “besides we do it painlessly.”

The chicken walked away, happy and content, unaware about its eventual death.

He sat at the little doctor’s office, watching Dr. Crow move around. He was talking, gently explaining Mac something, but he wasn’t listening, instead watching how he opened the medical cabinet with his keys. Choosing between a million of bottles.

Technically, what Crow was doing wasn’t legal. He was giving Mac prescriptions, when Mac had some at home. Even stuff he hadn’t been prescribed.

Mac knew that. But Crow seemed to… care, in a different way that the other doctors had done. Perhaps it was because he was a member of Eden. They were all so kind to him. 

He knew it was wrong, that it should probably worry him a little, but Crow seemed to have pure intentions. It wasn’t like there were any big drug problems going around the Commune. Besides, if he told himself that there was nothing wrong with it, then he didn’t worry as much.

When Murdoc had told him that they smoked weed once in a while, Mac had almost figured he had been kidding.

But nope, he apparently hadn’t.

Jay had appeared with a couple of joints and a big grin on his face, offering Mac and Fern one, a late evening. 

They laid on the grass not too far from the cabin, listening to the gentle sounds of the commune going to bed slowly. Mac watched the stars, taking another drag of the joint, feeling the way his entire body slowly began to relax. How some of the pain slowly began to disappear. It was nice. They didn’t necessarily say much. Not that it mattered, it was nice.

“Do you ever miss Afghanistan?” 

The question had caught him off guard, but as Jay looked over at him, his eyes were curious, not pitying like a lot of people did.

“Don’t make him talk ‘bout it,” Fern mumbled, giving Jay a little nudge, “Mac you don’t have to answer.”

Mac took another drag of the joint, before looking up at the sky again. The stars disappeared behind the little cloud of smoke from his mouth and he wondered how to explain it, how to speak the truth about it.

“Sometimes,” he finally said, “not so much more. I like it here. But it was a big change.” There was much more to say than just that. The two men knew he was plagued by nightmares and bad memories, they sometimes came to check on him when he screamed at night. When the memories of the burning sand and Jack’s gentle touch became too much, when the flashback felt like apocalyptic horror, when he was unable to be ripped back from it to Eden. 

When the memories dug into his skin like demons, all sinking into him through the gunshot wound that had healed with time.

“I can imagine,” Jay softly answered, making Mac come back into reality and he looked over at the long haired man again.

“I’m happy to be here though,” he said, the weed helping his tongue along, so it continued to speak, “even though I sometimes miss Jack.”

“Jack?” Jay asked, while a small understanding “ah” left Fern.

“He was my overwatch,” Mac said, taking another drag of his joint looking up at the stars again, “ he took care of me. Looked out for me.”

“He sounds nice.”

“He abandoned you,” Fern pointed out before taking a drag of his own joint.

“Fern,” Jay said, while Mac huffed.

"Yeah. Stayed another tour, but I did get shot in the beginning of it. Said he would make sure I was okay. But he isn’t even home yet I think.” It was the harsh truth wasn’t it?

The stars reminded him of Jack for a moment, silly as it sounded, of light in the dark, making him know that everything was going to be alright. Or it used to.

His thoughts continued to run, imagining the stars being fabric, imagining how it would be sown together into something beautiful.

He couldn’t imagine Jack wearing something like that, but he could easily imagine Murdoc like that. Swept in a star filled fabric, like a god.

“I like Murdoc,” he finally said, not really sure why, “more than I liked Jack.”

“Yeah?” Fern said, “that’s good.”

“I think Murdoc likes you too,” Jay pointed out and Mac blinked slowly, the stars disappearing slowly as his eyelids and lashes met each other.

“You do?”

“I’m sure.”

Chapter Text

At first it didn’t occur to him how there was a steady mention of rebirth in the commune. Though, more in a spiritual way as far as he figured. Blood from the animals that they were eating anyways, apparently used in rituals too.

“When you become a member,” Fern had explained when he had asked, curiously, “don’t worry, it’s nothing spooky. It’s all ritualistic.”

“It’s very beautiful however,” Luna said with a dreamlike sigh, before eating some more of the bread, “symbolic.”

“The rebirth?” Mac asked, tipping his head to the side as Luna nodded. 

“It’s a special experience,” Rose said, “if you join you’ll know.”

If you join you’ll know.

Special. 

Some must die so others can live.

Murdoc likes you too.

He abandoned you. 

Special.

Murdoc likes you.

Sweet thing.

Special .

He pushed away the apple slices that he had in the little bowl next to his lunch, muttering about the texture being wrong as his mind exploded with words being told. If he joins. When he joins.

How was he supposed to know what to do?

Everything had gone so well so far, everything had changed, even though his mind still fought him with tooth and claws, even though he sometimes felt like he was being watched all the time, as if his food and drinks tasted odd now and again.

There was a party not too long after. Mac wasn’t  really sure why or what they were celebrating, but he supposed it didn’t matter. Seemingly something to do with the harvest. He wasn’t technically a member yet, just an identity less being hanging around and learning the ways of the commune until ready.

The drink was oddly sweet and made him feel odd, but happy. Steps were dizzy, the world blended together in front of his eyes when he turned his head. He danced with the others, both normal and some kind of ritualistic dance again, barely noticing the blood being smeared on his cheeks.

Too gone in the euphoria.

He had a massive headache the day afterwards, despite not having drunk much. Or at least he didn’t remember drinking much, yet Fern alluded to the idea that he did.

Drunk or not, he had forgotten the worlds of bombs and the idea of being watched, he had forgotten the feeling of being shot through his shoulder, the fear that every loud sound was going to kill him and everyone around him.

As better as everything had gotten, there was still darkness in his mind.

It wasn’t unusual for him to be here at night, watching the little river, listening to the world sleeping around him after a nightmare.

In the nightmare the shots had continued, sinking into his stomach, chest, face and legs, making him even more useless than before. The Jack in his dreams had learnt over him and said “ you’re worth even less now”, before kicking him and leaving him.

So Mac was expecting to be alone in the night, that was lit up by the moon.

However, the soft steps in the grass behind him made him look over his shoulder, his mind for once right that he wasn’t alone.

Murdoc was beautiful even at night, wearing a dark loose outfit that almost made him look like a raven or a mythical being. He didn’t look human.

“Mac,” he greeted, stopping a couple of steps from Mac, “you’re out late.” It wasn’t accusatory, but worried and the idea of Murdoc worrying and caring about him, made sparkles appear beneath his skin. Like millions of sweet bullets crushing through his skin.

“I had a nightmare,” somehow the truth escaped him so easily when it came to Murdoc, “needed to watch the water a little.”

Murdoc nodded before offering his hand, almost looking mythical in the slight light of the moon, fingernails painted dark, almost reminding Mac of claws; yet if Murdoc was a monster, he was one Mac was willing to follow. Happily so.

Mac carefully took his hand and got up, letting go - only for Murdoc to offer his arm.

“Let me show you somewhere beautiful,” Murdoc offered, his words entrancing and sweet and Mac was taking his arm before he could even finish, “It’s perhaps a little scary at first, but trust me, it's worth the small fright.”

“Okay,” Mac just said, following the leader, eyes moving up to watch Murdoc’s face, “Is it long from here?”

“No no, not at all. A ten minute walk. Do you mind that?” 

“No,” Mac felt himself blush as he realized how quickly he had replied, “That sounds fine, I mean.”

At first, Mac thought Murdoc was taking him towards the fields and he couldn’t help but imagine what the fields would look like right now, in the warm breeze. PErhaps like a wild ocean, ready to swallow you up in a wheat-filled hug. They had to harvest soon, if Mac wasn’t wrong.

They walked in silence and normally Mac might have tried speaking to keep the silence at bay, but he didn’t really feel uncomfortable right now, with Murdoc like this.

It turned out it wasn’t the fields however, since they turned just before it, continuing up the grassy hill. It was only when Mac realizied that they were walking towards one of the bigger forests, which he had only been in once before, that he broke the silence.

“Are we going in there?”

“We are,” was the soft answer, “don’t worry, sweet thing, there is nothing to fear in there.”

Mac felt conflicted as they reached the end of the forest, a path being illuminated by the moonlight here and there.

“I usually bring a light when the moon is not out,” Murdoc explained, “But I know the forest like the back of my hand. It speaks to me. Make sure I never get lost.”

Mac’s eyes flickered to watch Murdoc as he said so.

The clearing was lit up by the moon - and there was almost a small crater, with a couple of steps to the bottom of it, whereas there was a little lake. It almost felt surreal.

The lake was like a giant mirror and Murdoc steered him down the stairs, with a soft hum. 

“It’s beautiful,” Mac whispered, making Murdoc chuckle as he gently pulled him along to the little bridge at the lake. He sat down on the edge then, patting on the spot next to him and Mac obliged, sitting down next to him.

The lake and forest around them was mostly quiet, save the wind making the trees away and the lake move a little.

“Isn’t it?” Murdoc answered, dreamy tone to his voice,“Like a little piece of heaven, in our own Eden.”

Quietness enveloped them for a couple of moments before Murdoc spoke again.

“You can come here as much as you want to. It’s private here. We use it for rituals but it’s very rare.”

Mac nodded. Thoughts racing through his mind as he considered what to say, how to explain the turmoil that had been filling his head the last couple of days.

“Murdoc?” His voice was shaking a little. Not because he was cold, perhaps his nerves, he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, sweet thing?”

“I’m afraid of being a member.” The words felt as if they were unfair to tell the leader. Would Murdoc be mad? Mac wanted so badly to be ready, to know everything was right in the commune, that everything was true. Know for sure that this was the way he wanted to live, that Murdoc was truly as special as everybody kept telling Mac that he was.

“What frightens you about it?” His words aren’t judgemental. Perhaps more curious than anything and as Mac looked up, his eyes were almost shining in the moonlight.

“I don’t know,” Mac admitted. Murdoc’s hand slid over his thigh, to gently touch Mac’s hand. Hold it like it was made of porcelain, easy to break. He supposed there were already cracks in his body, from the wounds of war and his messed up mind.

“You don’t have to be a full member before you’re ready,” Murdoc then said, not taking his eyes of Mac, “There is nothing wrong with being like you are now, between the two worlds. Going to the world of light is a choice one must take once ready. So you should take your time. But Mac-”

Murdoc lifted Mac’s hand gently, raising it to his mouth and softly pressing his lips against the back of it, “Mac , you are special. Especially to me.”

You are special. Especially to me.

Especially to me.

His voice was enthralling and Mac wanted to do nothing but throw all his guards now, and make Murdoc make him a full member. Special? Mac? special? He didn't feel special.

But Murdoc hadn’t told him many, if any lies this far. 

“Murdoc,” he whispered, voice unsure and shaking a little, though he was not moving.

“Oh, Mac,” he answered, “don’t look so surprised. Of course you’re special.”

“I -”

“Sweet thing?”

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?”

“... Please.”

Murdoc let go of his hand and Mac leaned towards him without hesitation, Murdoc’s hand moving to touch Mac’s chin, taking the lead and Mac didn’t mind it one bit.

For just a flare of a second, he felt sure; he would follow Murdoc through whatever he wanted. Stay forever on the commune with the others.

It was like stepping into the cold water of the lake after having wandered so long in the heat.

His lips against Mac’s own felt magical, like a transcendent experience; his hands cupping his face, tongue asking for permission and oh, yes.

Mac whimpered, unable to help himself as galaxies expanded inside his body, lust sending a ripple through him. He wanted Murdoc to touch him, he wanted those beautiful fingers to touch his skin, all of him. Mac would bare himself to Murdoc, he would let the older man pull him apart, show him all of his body, all the scars and birthmarks that littered his body. He would do whatever the smooth-voiced man demanded of him. He wanted to see how Murdoc looked when he came, either inside or on Mac’s skin, he wanted the other man so badly that he almost felt crazy. It was almost painful to him, his stomach twirling, feeling himself getting wet between his legs.

This, this was what he had been waiting for, dreaming and fantasizing about, this he had touched himself to, imagining the soft moan that just left Murdoc. How was he supposed to not want more?

Murdoc was the drug and Mac was the addict, desperate for anything he was given. He would go feral for any small taste of this heaven, do whatever necessary to be blessed with yet another kiss.

He moved even closer, so close to Murdoc that if he was allowed, he could crawl into his lap and oh how he would treasure being so close to the other. It would be like a dream, perhaps a wet one, come true.

He wanted Murdoc to take him right there on the bridge, make the forest echo with their moans and the lewd wet sound of their fucking, he wanted Murdoc to leave marks so that no one in the commune would be unsure: Mac belonged to Murdoc.

But just as he had hoped they would continue, that Murdoc would actually say that he wanted him, he pulled back, gently caressing Mac’s cheek.

“Let’s get you home, sweet thing.”

“Murdoc,” his voice almost cracking, sounding so desperate that it was embarrassing, fingers moving to hold onto Murdoc’s wrist, “please.”

“Another time,” Murdoc promised huskily, “soon.”

“I want you,” he whispered.

A dark chuckle left the other. “And I you. Soon.”

Chapter Text

They haven’t spoken together a lot, which makes sense to Jack, since they technically haven’t even met. They just care about the same Angus Macgyver. Yet, despite never meeting, Bozer picks up at the second ring.

“Wilt Bozer.”

“Hi Bozer.”

“Hi Jack - how are you?”

“Enjoying the sand and sun,” Jack answered dryly, making Bozer huff in slight amusement, “is Mac picking up your calls?”

He knew he sounded a little desperate, but he hadn’t heard anything from his Boy Scout ever since he disappeared on him. It made Jack’s heart hurt, knowing full well that Mac was ignoring him. That he probably thought Jack had abandoned him.

“Nah, not a lot,” Bozer admitted, “when he finally picks up, he sounds happy though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” a couple of seconds of hesitation and then Bozer spoke again, “though I gotta be honest, Jack. He always speaks about how this Eden place is wonderful but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know, man. It sounds more and more like a cult to me, not going to lie.”

Jack was quiet for a moment, thoughts racing through his mind. A cult? Different stereotypes of cults flashed through his mind, the pop culture part of him filling out the gaps. Black ropes, animal skulls and satanic rituals. Nope. He couldn’t see the sunshine that was Hamburger boy being like that.

“It can’t be. Mac is a genius Bozer, you know that. Too smart to enter a cult.”

“It’s not about how smart you are,” the other answered, “I’ve done some research online. It’s not like a cult will ever say it’s a cult - and there are plenty of educated people in cults, all over the age and education spectrum. Hell Jack, I’ve read about lawyers and scientists joining cults.”

Jack closed his eyes at the words.

Had Mac really joined a cult? He shuddered to think of it. Some wind sent a bit of sand his way and he pushed up the sunglasses. He wanted to go home immediately.

“Are you sure it’s a cult?”

A small sigh was heard from Bozer, almost frustrated. “No, I’m not. I swear this place is hard as fuck to dig up something about. Their webpage is basic as fuck. I can’t find anything and when something finally pops up it’s deleted less than an hour later. Except when it’s about the sales of their vegetables or horses, it’s all super sketchy.”

“Okay. Just… keep looking? And update me if he says something else?”

“Sure man,” Bozer promised, voice soft, “we will figure something out.”

“If it is a cult,” Jack said, worry seeping into his bones at the thought, “I’ll make sure to get Mac out once I’m home. You got my word.”

“… just be careful dude. I think they’ve messed our Mac up, even more than before.”

It felt like the knife was being twisted in his heart. He knew it was true, he had just hoped it wasn’t. He couldn’t abandon his current EOD, not now, but he felt like he had and still was failing Mac. No matter what, Jack was responsible for getting the sweet man into safety again.

Fern had considered checking up on Mac as he sat out by the river in the dark, knowing Murdoc liked to know what was happening. However at the sight of his god standing next to Mac, Fern merely grinned and carefully closed the door again. Watching them walk towards the forest, like lovers meeting in the dark night. Probably going to the lake if he had to guess.

It was clear to Fern and Rose, to most around them really, that Murdoc had already claimed Mac. It was only a matter of time and then Fern knew for certain that his new friend would never leave them. He would hunger for Murdoc’s approval, for who didn’t want that from a god?

And Fern knew he could be feral for the approval, doing things that his former self would detest and pull away from. But if Murdoc said that he trusted that Fern would get it done, Fern would kill to get it done. He didn’t quite understand the obsession Murdoc had with Mac but he wasn’t going to question it. It was clear that Murdoc wanted Mac for himself.

Fern began to wonder how it would look with Murdoc taking Mac apart, how he would be drenched in blood in the rituals, how he would be fucked an-

The sound of a phone distracted Fern.

It came from his friend’s room. He walked in there, not having to pretend to respect his privacy since he wasn’t there. The phone was next to the mattress Mac slept on, lighting up the room with the word Jack on the screen.

Fern considered letting it go to voicemail but the loud sound of the ringing tone was annoying. So, he simply pressed the decline button. There, the problem was solved.

Murdoc had told Fern the password to Mac’s phone - because of course his god knew it. Fern had helped put up and hide the cameras in Mac’s home himself, had put in the flyer in his mailbox, and had waited for him to arrive at the commune. He had messed up the plans of the windmill, so that he could praise Mac.

Everything was going according to Murdoc's plan and Fern felt proud of doing so well. Besides, he knew Murdoc would appreciate and give him something for his work. The fact that Mac was nice to hang around was just another advantage. At this point, Fern was considering him an actual friend, even if his loyalty would always be for Murdoc.

And with Mac outside, probably being romanced, he couldn’t let Jack Dalton ruin the development. So, Fern used the password to open Mac’s phone, went into the right app and deleted the evidence of Jack having called. Making sure Mac wouldn’t be able to see that the awful man that was his oversight had called him. If they allowed Jack Dalton to distract Mac, he might ruin everything.

He made sure to go back to the app the phone had been in when Fern had opened it and put it down where he had found it.

Chapter Text

Mac was barely home anymore, which he didn’t realize until he recognized a pattern. Every sunday he returned home shortly, to empty the mailbox and in the beginning to clean his place. But each time he returned, he cleaned less and less. Why clean off the dust of the living table if he wasn’t eating off it? Why keep things in the fridge? He pulled out the different lamps and electronic devices. Put things in their proper places.

The different clothes he liked were packed and brought along to Eden, put away in the little room he had in Fern and Jay’s place. He kept paying for the electricity and water, mostly just out of anxiety. Late one night Rose had pointed out that he could always just sell the house once he joined them. Yet, he couldn’t really make himself consider it; he had so many memories connected to the place, both good and bad. Still he replied maybe to Rose.

He hadn’t even determined whether to stay or not.

Mac was getting more friends, however. He was getting closer to Murdoc. There were more and more reasons to stay, more and more reasons to not return home.

He still thought about their kiss at the lake, the rush that had gone through his body. He had touched himself to the memory more than once, biting down either on his bad hand or into a pillow while fucking himself on his fingers, imagining it was Murdoc touching him, Murdoc bringing him pleasure and touching him like that. Every time he had done that, he felt as if Murdoc knew. As if his eyes shone, just a little darker when seeing Mac, a little smirk on his lips. It was all something in Mac’s head of course, but it still made Mac feel dirty. Not necessarily in a bad way.

The reasons to stay at Eden were getting better and better as well. He felt like he could aid the Ranch, help the community; he felt useful. Dr. Crow had even convinced him into doing some exercises for his hand and arm and though he struggled to express it, they were working. He even took the meds a little more regularly, even though he still had days where he refused to take them.

He had talked a little to Fern, Jay, Luna and Rose about it, but he eventually also took one of his problems up with Dr. Crow. The older man, with the grey stripes in his hair and the round glasses which were often greasy, had encouraged him to say if something was wrong.

“I might not be a therapist,” he had said, “But still. I’ll be happy to listen.”

So while at the office, to collect more pills, even if he didn’t want to take any today, he actually expressed himself.

“I’m confused.” It felt odd to say out loud, to just start the conversation in that way, but Mac didn’t know how else to do it.

“About what, my friend?” The man asked, with confusion in his otherwise calm voice, looking up from his papers and Mac twisted his fingers a little, as he sat on the chair opposite. Still not sure what to say, how to express everything going on inside of him.

“About… Everything?” It sounded more like a question than an actual answer and Mac licked his lips slowly.

“How so?”

“I… About… Joining mostly. Murdoc says I should join once I feel ready but…”

“But?”

“But… I mean. Murdoc is special,” he wanted to say, and I care deeply for him, but he didn’t, “I know that. But it feels like people know how much more special he is and that I don't. ” 

A soft and almost amused smile appeared on Crow’s face, eyes kind as he looked at him.

“You’ll realize it at some point.” He sounded so sure, it made Mac frown, the urge to know too growing, and he desperately wanted to know what they all meant when they said things like that.

“But… I want to now. ”

The chuckle that left him wasn’t mean. Mac wasn’t sure Crow had a mean bone in his entire body. Even though Mac had sounded like an impatient child demanding to know the secret everyone else knew.

“You will eventually, Mac. See that Murdoc is special. That he isn’t like normal people.”

Mac nodded carefully. They all said that.

“I… It’s… I know he isn’t like other people, I’m not even sure I know how to describe it, but,” he licked his lips nervously, hesitated while looking away, “...But I know I’m getting better, Crow. I’m feeling better each day after I met Murdoc.”

“You are getting better, Mac,” Crow confirmed. 

Mac was also pretty sure that he was in love with Murdoc. But he didn’t say that, not because he felt embarrassed about it, but, well. Perhaps because he felt a little silly, for appearing out of nowhere and suddenly being like hey by the way I’m in love with your leader . 

The water was nice, as they swam in the river a couple of days later. Mac often sat on the bridge, arm hurting too much to swim a lot. Feet in the water, green trunks on, his scars exposed for once, the sun warming his back. He had tried his best not to be shy about them at first, but none of them had commented on them, which had helped a lot.

Rose sat next to him, a little paler than usual as she was absolutely covered in sunscreen. It was a nice evening, the weather warm enough to enjoy the water before they eventually had to go up and help with food.

Mac couldn’t help but wonder what his life would have looked like if he hadn’t gone to the dinner here at Eden, if he hadn’t walked into Murdoc by accident. It almost felt destined and though the thought made his toes curl with embarrassment, he wanted it to be true too.

“You know, you can always ask him?”

“Who?” Mac said absentmindedly, enjoying the water on his feet, distracted from the conversation they had just had, mind too busy with his own thoughts.

“Murdoc, you silly,” Rose answered, giving his head a gentle push making him smile.

“Ask him what, then?”

“Ask if he will show you,” Rose said, as if it was the most obvious thing ever, “Show you how special he is.” 

“Oh.” For some reason, Mac hadn’t considered just going straight to the source. He supposed just asking outright would make sense.

What would Murdoc answer though? How would he show him? Would he just have a book that explained it? A PowerPoint? Every thought felt more and more ridiculous in his mind.

The wet and happy faces of Fern and Jay appeared from the water, splashing water on them, making Rose squeal and Mac laugh. While the ginger muttered about them acting like kids, Mac hadn’t minded being ripped from his mind again. Fern and Jay rested against the bridge, hands keeping them from flowing along the gentle stream.

“He will be happy to show you, Mac,” Fern said, curly hair all wet and stucking to his head and Luna joined them from the water, sitting down next to Rose, adding;

“Yeah, he has shown others who requested it.”

“Oh,” Mac just said again, mind racing along.

Jay grinned in a way that Mac knew meant trouble.

“Besides, Murdoc finds ya’ special too,” Jay said teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

It made Fern laugh, while Mac blushed hard. If the others noticed it too, then it had to be right. Then Murdoc really had to like Mac too. 

“Stop teasing him about it, you dick,” Fern laughed, before attacking Jay and pulling him under water laughing, before being pulled down himself.

Chapter Text

The same evening after food and after helping clean the hall, Rose, Fern and Jay urged Mac to go speak to Murdoc.

“What if he is busy?”

Rose rolled her eyes, but there was still a smile on her face.

“He won’t be too busy for you,” she pointed out, the answer making Mac’s heart beat an extra time, “if he is, he will tell you. He can show you tomorrow then.”

Mac bit his lip, looking up towards the biggest house at the commune, called the farm house, where Murdoc lived. He did want to . 

“Is it scary?” He finally asked, carefully keeping his words calm as if to not show his hesitation.

“No,” Jay said, reaching out to give Mac’s good shoulder a little squeeze of comfort,“a little overwhelming but not scary at all.”

Mac gave them a careful smile, then looked back up at the house. He was itching to know what everybody else knew, so he finally nodded, yet still didn’t move. One thing was saying yes, another thing was doing it. Perhaps it was the fear of not seeing what everybody else saw, of not realizing how special Murdoc was, as everybody said. Would people still want him to join if that happened?

“Come on, Mac,” Fern said, “it’s Murdoc.”

Fern was right. It was Murdoc. Murdoc . He who had helped Mac’s lost body into a safe community.

“I’ll go ask if he has the time.”

“Does it mean so much to you?” Murdoc asked, eyes illuminated by the many candles that filled his house, his dark eyes looking like they were filled with stars.

He had told Mac he had been preparing to meditate and Mac had immediately been ready to leave again - yet Murdoc had demanded to know why he was there.

“Yes,” Mac finally answered Murdoc's question, voice soft and a little quiet. Knowing how special Murdoc was did mean a lot to him, Eden meant a lot to him, “I haven’t been able to think about much else these last couple of days.”

It felt silly to admit out loud, but it was the truth.

The smile on Murdoc’s lips was a mixture of proud and amused, or at least it looked like that, however, Mac got distracted as Murdoc’s hands moved to frame his face, gentle.

“Nothing else?” He asked, voice whispery and teasing, thumbs stroking along Mac’s skin. He could feel himself blush.

“I - our… kiss.”

“Yes?” The older man urged, stepping even closer, not breaking eye contact. He was so close that his long rope was touching Mac’s arms.

“I have been thinking about that too,” Mac admitted in a soft whisper.

“How peculiar,” he teased, “so have I.”

It felt like a million wild horses were roaming in his bloodstream suddenly and the anxiety disappeared again, “show me, Murdoc. Please. ” He wanted to know. He wanted to understand so badly, be a proper member of the community he had come to love, he wanted to see and understand Murdoc’s mind, wanted to mean more to the older man.

“Very well, sweet thing. I’ll show you.”

The drink that Murdoc had in the special bottle looked… well, Ordinary. 

“It’s just wine,” he softly explained, “Made with our own grapes. So it’s a part of Eden’s ground-”

He picked up two fancy looking glasses, dark and ordained with gold and what looked like small crystals.

“- And by being a part of Eden, it’s a part of our ground. A part of the Earth’s blood.”

Murdoc gestured to sit on the couch with so many soft pillows around him and he poured the wine while Mac’s rise looked around the room. The walls were a dark green color, the ceiling dark wood. There were flowers, both fresh and dried all over the room, together with the many candles that almost gave the room a more creepy vibe. A couple of deer skulls with antlers adorned the wall, pictures of all kinds hanging around, most ones of Murdoc himself. 

Mac was about to ask what that was about, when Murdoc appeared in front of him, offering the decorative glass with the wine inside.

“Alright - We drink a little and talk - okay? It might become a little intense, but I’ll take care of you, don't worry.”

“W-what is it exactly that will be intense?” Mac asked, confusion and a bit of fear creeping along his spine as well at the vagueness.

“It’s hard to explain,” Murdoc said softly, a hand sliding up Mac’s wrist that held the glass, pushing it towards Mac to encourage him to drink, “The enlightenment. It will make sense. I promise. I’m here, Mac.”

“Drink all of it,” Murdoc said, “then we shall slowly begin.”

He did; it was slightly bitter and a little sharp in taste, but not too bad, so drinking all of it wasn’t too bad. His eyes flickered to Murdoc who drank from his own glass, a smile on his slightly reddened lips as he sat the glass down - then taking Mac’s glass once he had drunk his own.

Everything started rather simple; Murdoc was talking, explaining how he started the farm, which turned to the commune, then everything else. How he was enlightened himself, how he became what he is today. How he began to see how the world worked, even if he kept all of his explanations vague in the start.

The taste of the wine lingered in his mouth.

Murdoc did slow breathing exercises with him then, explaining how the mind was connected to the earth - how everything was connected in a system. A system Mac would soon be able to see and understand better, so he would see why he and everyone in Eden saw, why they took so well care of the earth. That was why they took so well care of it in Eden, why they used blood and water in their rituals. It was all a part of earth, who was the only thing that could cleanse humans; with the help of one person.

“ Me,” Murdoc hummed, his hands reaching out to touch Mac’s face, gently framing it, “I’ve become so aware, sweet thing. I’ll show you. Show you how everything works, how everything revolves around me. About you. ”

“W-what?” Mac felt his mouth go dry, limbs go heavy. He felt odd. Murdoc was saying odd things. They were making less and less sense to Mac, but asking seemed harder and harder too.

Murdoc leant forward, still holding onto Mac’s face, pulling it towards a little so that he could lean and whisper into Mac’s ear.

“I’ll show you the truth, Angus. I’ll make everything make sense.”

The world was a million colors around him, yet Murdoc was there, in front of him like a constant reminder of safety; his cloak was like a dark galaxy, skin shining like the sun, with more eyes than Mac had ever seen before on a human, yet Murdoc was as beautiful as ever. It was as if he was a mystical being, an indescribable beauty from the pages of a fairytale, unlike anything Mac had ever seen or imagined he would be privileged enough to see. 

It almost felt forbidden to see, as if he wasn’t meant to, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off Murdoc, if that mortal name even fit him. Expressed how beautiful he was. It felt like ages since he had stepped into the house in Eden.

“I am your god,” the being above him said, “I am your god, Angus Macgyver.”

God.

He blinked, slowly, the world disappearing then returning differently with eyes, eyes everywhere, all looking at him, and the being reached out, dark eyes on the hand, touching Mac’s skin. He caressed his cheek and Mac had never felt anything like that touch, the most wonderful feeling to ever occur. It felt like flowers spurted from his skin that Murdoc had touched and Mac leant against the hard, a small whimper leaving him; words had escaped him from a moment and he blinked again, Murdoc still there, closer but contorted, many eyes gone, now only two dark, deep ones.

“I am your god.”

I am your god. The sentence was repeated inside Mac’s mind. 

“I am not human.” His voice felt like being kissed by the sun, his words gentle yet firm and Mac felt more alike than ever.

“You’re not human,” Mac confirmed, because whatever it was, in front of him, no above him, wasn’t human. There were too many eyes, hands, yet it was still the most beautiful creature Mac had ever seen, even with the grass all around them, the apples dropping down from the big apple tree on the ceiling. The deer skulls were looking at them knowingly.

Everything was like a dream.

Until it became a nightmare.

“But the world is dangerous, isn’t it, Angus?” Murdoc said, pushing Mac back into the pillows, “The world is dangerous, don’t you think so?”

Angus Macgyver tripping on LSD was a wonderful sight to Murdoc; oh he looked so naive and innocent, staring at Murdoc just like he had wanted his genius too. He repeated the correct words now and again. Murdoc had no doubt Angus’ mind could be a wonderful, creative world to get lost in. But it wasn’t what he needed right now. No, now he needed to make sure Angus wouldn’t forget this experience.

“The world is dangerous, don’t you think so?” he asked after pushing him back the pillows, to hover above him, making his little bird feel even smaller.

This moment Murdoc had waited for. This he had longed for, when watching the many struggles Angus exposed both in private and in public. This was the moment where all the stalking and noting of pain became important.

“What?” his sweet thing looked so confused, brows furrowed and oh, how Murdoc was going to scare him.

“Murdoc,” he whimpered his name so beautifully, it was addicting to hear Mac say it in that tone, “I don’t feel good.”

“I wouldn’t either with so much darkness inside me,” Murdoc said, leaning down closer to the shaking blonde beneath him, “You have so much darkness inside you, Angus.”

He was shaking even more. Murdoc was happy to give his mind an extra push. Crow had mentioned passing out might happen, along the way. Murdoc wanted to see that, wanted that to happen, wanted to be the one yielding the knife, to lead Angus’ own mind to its slaughter. He had sharpened the knife but he needed to cut . Needed to stab.

“You’re broken, Angus. Worthless. To everybody but me.”

He was crying, such cute tears streaming from his red eyes. Looking frightened.

“I -I -”

“You’re broken, Angus,” he repeated, voice not leaving any room to argue, because what was there to argue about? Murdoc continued, in an almost softer tone immediately “To everybody but me, Angus. Your god understands. I understand.”

“M-M-”

“Nobody wants you but me - your god wants you. Eden wants you.”

A pathetic sob left Angus, crying harder than before, shaking even more. Murdoc couldn’t help himself, not now, he needed to taste; he leant down, licking those salty tears from the crying man’s cheeks, a soft hum leaving him.

“The world doesn’t want you,” he cooed into Angus’ ear, “But Eden does. You’re safe here. Safe with me. Only me.”

“I’m gonna die” He cried out, “I’m gonna die I’m gonna die-”

“and reborn, my bird,” Murdoc snarled, licking his tears off again.

“Oh how pitiful,” Crow commented as he saw the passed out Angus and Murdoc took another drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke to the side as he continued to watch his darling bird, out like a light. He wanted so badly to take advantage of the vulnerable man, but no, their first time had to be perfect, it had to be with Angus awake and conscious so Murdoc could make him cry with pleasure. It needed to be a good memory. This was all about convincing him Murdoc was truly a god, making sure he would stay.

“He is such a beauty,” Murdoc mused, “so pathetic when he cries.”

Shooting Mac in Afghanistan after realizing how brilliant he was, had been one of the best choices Murdoc had made in several years.

“I don’t doubt it,” Crow happily commented, checking Angus’ pulse, humming happily, pulling out a small flashlight from his pocket. Murdoc took another drag of one of the few cigarettes he smoked nowadays, watching Crow pull back Angus’ eyelid to shine into his eye. The older man looked amused with the whole thing, but still checking if Angus was actually in danger.

“He seems fine,” Crow said, opening his mouth, checking he wasn’t vomiting or the tongue wasn’t in the way.

“Can I wake him up?” Murdoc asked, licking his lips before killing the cigarette in his ashtray, “give him more?” 

“Sure,” Crow answered with an amused chuckle, “It will take him a little while to get sober however and don’t overdo it or he might puke - he is at the risk of perhaps having a smaller psychosis, too, given his mental health.”

“Hmm,” Murdoc moved to his bird, laying propped up against the many pillows on the couch, gently touching his thigh, “I’ll take the chance. It could be fun to see.”

Crow laughed, but nodded along, the man as twisted as Murdoc himself. He liked that about him. He understood why the doctor had lost his license, but he was of great value to the commune.

“Thank you, Crow,” he finally said, looking up and giving the older man a nod.

“Anything Murdoc,” he breathed, “it’s always an honor to help you with things like these. Let me know if you need anything for him later.”

The words were like light in the dark, guiding him from the sleep into being awake, a deity above him, adorned in gold; to Mac it seemed like the god had a golden shine to him, inhumane and a blessing to see.

“Drink this, sweet prince,” The god said, pressing something against his lips - and how could Mac refuse a request from a god? Would the God above him be angry?

“Who am I?” The being asked, softness in his voice as the liquid spilled into Mac’s mouth, an alcoholic taste that reminded him of wine - or was it blood? The thought of drinking blood made him whimper and turn away his head, but the being merely guided the blood filled glass to his lips again, cooing and forcing more of the drink into his mouth.

“Who am I?” he asked once more, as Mac coughed slightly, feeling blood drip from his lips, eyes flickering up to look at the star covered man, with sharp fangs in his mouth. There were pieces of ash dripping from the ceiling, almost looking like snow.

“I - “ Mac had to focus on the question, on answering the deity on who they were, “Murdoc?”

“Yes, sweet thing,” Murdoc cooed, “what a good boy.”

Mac whimpered, eyes flickered around, the deer skulls looking at him, fangs in their mouth too, “I’m scared.”

“Don’t worry sweet thing, I’m here,” Murdoc reminded him, before leaning forward to kiss his forehead; it felt like a blessing, light appearing in front of his eyes, making him blind. 

“Am I human?” Murdoc asked and Mac closed his eyes, shaking his eyes, earning a pleased hum.

“That’s right, sweet thing - you’ve always known that, haven’t you?”

“Ye-yes,” Mac whispered - he had always known Murdoc was special, but he had never imagined this; it scared him so deeply and made him sniffle, “Please.”

“What am I?”

“I - Murdoc.”

“that’s my name. What am I?”

“No-not human,” his head hurt, world felt like it was spinning, “I - Murdoc.”

“Sweet thing,” he cooed, caressing his cheeks, “What am I?”

What am I?

What am I?

What am I?

“ God ,” Mac finally whispered, opening his eyes, looking up at the deity, “You’re God.”

“That’s right, my sweet bird,” Murdoc said, grinning, “I’m god. I’m your god.” 

“please-” he wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he felt like begging none the less. The world around him was overwhelming it was too much, there were too many sounds and textures touching his skin, too much to see.

“And I love you, Mac, I care for you - but nobody else does - isn’t that right?”

“No-no,” Mac said, trying his best to focus, reminding himself of Bozer, of Jack, of people around him, it couldn’t be right, “Peopl-people care.”

“No they don’t,” his voice was so patient, so calm, as if he was just staring to truth to him.

“Only I care. Jack doesn’t care.”

“He doesnt?” 

“No, Mac,” he answered, as if it was obvious, “He wants to take you away. Away from me. He doesn’t love you. He hates you, he dislikes you. He was relieved you got hurt in Afghanistan. He is going to take you away, ruin you, then leave you for death.”

Mac whimpered again, sniffling. Everything felt too much, his head hurt, his mind felt like it was being ripped apart, wires to his brain cut and disconnected, pulling him apart like a broken bomb.

“Don’t - I don’t want to leave you,” he cried, “He can’t take me away from you. I don’t wanna leave you Murdoc!”

“Don’t worry little prince,” Murdoc said, words dripping like honey, “I’ll protect you here in Eden. Your god will protect you.”

He slept without dreaming anything; it had been a while since he hadn’t had dreams, with either Murdoc or Jack appearing, but when he woke up, sun warming his skin, he hadn’t any dreams haunting his mind.

Mac blinked, unaware of where he was for a moment. It wasn’t in his house or in the room in the commune. There was sun shining in from a window on the roof, making him blink a little before he sat up. 

There were turned off candles everywhere in Murdoc’s room and he rubbed his eyes, trying to remember everything. He wasn’t sure what had happened or even how it had happened - nor how long it had taken. But one thing was sure to the blonde; whatever had happened, wasn’t what he had expected. 

A sound made him look over his shoulder and Murdoc appeared with a tray, filled with food.

"Good Morning, sweet thing,” He greeted happily, sitting down the tray on the table next to the couch, before sitting down, “How did you sleep?”

There was a colorful blanket over him that he hadn’t noticed before and Mac sat up, pulling it with him so Murdoc could sit properly next to him.

“I slept alright,” he answered, almost shyly, muttering a small thank you when offered a cup of coffee, “I - what… did I sleep all night?”

“I’m afraid you did. You passed out after a little while, sweet thing,” Murdoc explained, “But I told Fern and Jay, so that they didn’t worry. I hope the couch wasn’t bad to sleep on?”

“Oh - and no no, thank you it was great,” He hesitated, biting his lip before looking over at Murdoc who took a sip of his own coffee, “Murdoc?” 

“Yes?”

“What… What happened yesterday was… I’ve never experienced anything like that.”

An almost gentle smile appeared on Murdoc’s lips and Mac found himself wanting to kiss them; wanting this every morning, waking up to Murdoc’s presence.

“Enlightenment can seem overwhelming,” Murdoc answered, pushing some food towards him from the tray, before looking over at Mac, eyes sparkling, “I hope it wasn’t too scary?”

“No -  No. I… felt safe. With you.”

“I’m  glad,” Murdoc answered, smile on his lips. “Was it worth it.”

“Yes,” Mac whispered, “it was unlike anything else.”

“The truth is a blessing,” Murdoc whispered, “I’m glad I was allowed to show you.”

“Thank you,” Mac answered, the urge to hug Murdoc big, “thank you.”

Then Murdoc leaned over, gently pressing a kiss against Mac’s mouth. 

“You’re welcome sweet thing,” he cooed, before leaning back again, “now eat. You got a lot of things to consider.”

Everything just rushed by after his enlightenment, so it felt like a blink of an eye when he was suddenly sitting in the lap of Murdoc the evening after seeing why Murdoc was so special.

Even better than that, he was alone in the forest by the lake with Murdoc again, currently situated in his lap. The mere fact and the feeling of Murdoc’s body beneath him was turning Mac on more than it probably should; the closeness of him felt like a promise of spending more time with him alone. 

He still imagined them both naked , alone in the forest, touching each other. Murdoc’s hands sliding over Mac’s body as he rides him, not quick because they have all of eternity, so it’s sweet and gentle. Soft.

“I’m ready,” he whispered, arms around Murdoc’s shoulder and neck, Murdoc’s arms around his lower back, “Murdoc, I’m ready.”

Mac felt ready, he was convinced he was never going to feel more ready than he was now.

“Are you ready to follow me?” Murdoc asked, leaning forward to kiss Mac’s neck and jaw gently before pulling back again.

“Anywhere,” Mac promised, “everywhere you want to go, Murdoc.”

Their eyes met again and Mac felt spellbound for a moment; he didn’t feel hurt like he had so long ago, he felt safe. He knew Murdoc wanted nothing but good for him, he wasn’t sure how but he just knew it. Nobody else would truly love him like he was sure Murdoc would care for him, if Mac was worthy. He could get out of bed, he went to sleep tired each nice, aching bones but happy, was allowed to take his breaks.

“ you saved me, Murdoc,” Mac said, “you saved me from the darkness. I saw that, in the enlightenment.”

Murdoc smiled, clearly pleased, “I’m glad you’ve realized,” he said, voice almost purring “you’re ready to live a life in lightness then.”

Mac nodded; a life in happiness. No pain, nothing to worry about. Just the beautiful cycle of love, of light. Together with everyone who cared about him. He rested his head on Murdoc’s shoulder.

“But Mac,” one of Murdoc’s hands slid up his back, sending fireworks of emotions through his body, to take a gentle grip on Mac’s chin, guiding him to face him once again, “you must know something.”

“Yes?” Mac asked carefully, eyes watching Murdoc carefully.

“You are different Mac, different from all the others,” he answered him, making Mac stop breathing for a moment. Different? In a bad way?

“You’re special,” the hand slid from his chin to his cheek, “you won’t receive a nature-name from me because of that.”

“I … I won’t?” He had hoped he would, in truth; he would fit even better in then, when he started to wear green clothes as well, having a nature related name, “what then?”

“You’ll receive a chosen name from me,” Murdoc said, a mysterious tone to his voice, making Mac tip his head to the side.

“Okay - but why?”

“Because, sweet thing,” Murdoc said, leaning even closer so the air they breathed was shared, “because you’re destined to be my lover. If you accept it.”

Lover.

You’re destined to be my lover.

“Yes, Murdoc,” Mac said, almost feeling out of breath, emotions overwhelming him as if he was drowning in the lake, “I accept. Please. I want to be your lover.”

Their mouths met in a kiss that made Mac weak in his knees and he felt his body screaming for love, felt it screaming for that touch he had longed for, for so long. He couldn’t help himself, mind overwhelmed; so he rolled his hips, grinding his crotch against Murdoc’s, gasping of pleasure into Murdoc’s mouth. There was a soft chuckle from Murdoc and Mac was sure that this was it. That Murdoc would take him right now, right here. But then gentle hands were on his hips, stilling them and their kiss broke.

Mac let out a small disappointed sound.

“Murdoc,” he said, voice small, “please, I want you so badly that it hurts.”

“I want you too sweet thing,” Murdoc confirmed, “but we have to wait.”

“… wait?” There was disappointment in his voice, making Murdoc hum in sympathy.

“Yes, until you’ve gone through the welcoming ritual and then the cleansing ritual,” Murdoc explained, “so that you can let go of some of the darkness inside you. Be reborn by mother earth twice.”

Chapter Text

A few days had passed, several people in the commune that Mac had never even talked to, congratulating him on joining soon.

Fern, Rose and all the others had been over the moon too when he had said he had asked to join them; hugging him, kissing his cheek.

It was tomorrow. For some reason, nervousness was beginning to creep in on him, making him shake and feel too bad to eat. The usual bread that was a favorite part of his meal in the morning, suddenly felt like ash on his tongue; so he had retreated after breakfast to find his headphones and worn them, most of the day.

He wasn’t really sure what was making his mind upset. He wanted this, had waited for the welcoming ritual for months.

They were planning it, making a two day party out of it, since he was getting welcomed tomorrow and cleansed the day after with a couple of others. Spending time to make sure it would be nice for him.

Yet something in his gut tried to warn him. Was he doing the right thing? It seemed to be the right thing, what else was he going to do?

Here he could live a perfect life, without having to worry about the outside world ever again. There would be no Jacks who would want to hurt or abandon him because… Because that was what Jack wanted, hadn’t it? 

Mac had been the one who had wanted Jack to forget about him anyways.

So why was he hesitating now?

He hadn’t been lying when he told Murdoc that he would follow him everywhere; he still would. The other man was special . Mac finally understood how. He was special.

It was just nerves.

Murdoc would take care of him.

It was after dinner, when he returned to the shared house and into his little room, that Mac reached for the phone - and it began to ring at the same moment.

The screen read Jack .

Jack. But… Why was he calling? 

Mac stared at it for two seconds; he should really just deny the call, ignoring that Jack had tried to reach out once more. Especially after he felt how much Jack didn’t care for him, in the enlightenment. Murdoc did though.

But it kept calling, the ringtone going straight into Mac’s brain.

Why was he calling?

It kept ringing, so stupid, so annoying, like a reminder of the life outside and -

He barely realized that he had picked it up and pressed accept call instead of denying it.

There was the sound of breathing at the other end of the line.

Then a gentle, almost surprised yet careful:

“ Mac? ”

Jack’s voice was just like Mac had remembered it and he wanted to say something, he wanted to answer but his tongue felt swollen, wrong. He wanted so badly to answer, but he was so afraid at the same time.

“ Mac, are you there?”

For a second he was in the desert together with Jack, sitting next to him and laughing over some stupid pun, before the shot ruined everything. 

“ Hey Mac?” Fern’s voice ripped him from the memories, he lowered the phone from his ear and looked over his shoulder, the curly haired man smiling happily in the door to his room, “we need to check that the ceremony clothes fit!”

“Sure - I’ll be right there.” He answered Fern, before he looked back on the phone, faintly hearing Jack’s voice calling out his name. Then he pressed the end call button, laying the phone back on his desk, putting it on silent, before turning fully around to face Fern.

“Let’s go then.”

“Who was that?” Fern asked with a curious smile, eyes flickering to the phone.

“Wrong number,” Mac said with a shrug, “it doesn’t matter. Are you gonna dress me up in green?”

“You bet your ass I am!”

They did indeed dress him up in green.

A deep green tank top like shirt, made of linen,  open in the sides and held together by leather strings. A pair of loose pants, wide legged and light weight. He was going to be submerged in the river, so he thought it was good for that.

He would be given more clothes afterwards to keep warm, but it wasn’t that late in the evening so it wouldn’t be too bad. The sun would probably help him get warm faster.

He wore his little Eden branch brooch on the shirt, and he had gotten a haircut by Jay the day before, so that he could look his best. 

He could hear music, rhythmic and happy as Fern and Rose followed him to the river.

Rose in particular was excited, almost jumping with every step. “It’s been a while since we’ve welcomed new members,” she said as they walked, towards the spot where they would leave Mac to go over to the others on the other side of the river, “it feels so fitting that you’re the one to join us now.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it,” Mac agreed, even though he was nervous, but he was pretty sure the others could feel it even without him telling them.

“It won’t take long,” Fern explained, “you receive your new name, then Murdoc will help you be reborn by the earth.”

“Then we shall dance and celebrate!” Rose happily added, “then you’ll join us in the life of light!”

Just as she said that, they arrived and the music continued to play, the drums, the clapping, he was pretty sure there was a violin or two and singing.  

They both gave his shoulder a soft squeeze before leaving him, walking further down to one of the smaller bridges to cross the rivers. Rose was dancing to the rhythm of the music before she even reached the other group of green clad people.

Green.

He would be reborn, then he would join them.

The grass gently caressed his bare feet, the wind tickled his hair, like an urge to go on and step forward; he did so and the music slowly stopped, as Murdoc then appeared from the members. He wore a dark robe as always, yet his muscled chest was bare, safe from the usual golden jewelry and he smiled at Mac, from across the river. Golden jewelry adorned his fingers and neck, as well as a golden leaf like crown.

As Murdoc stepped into the water and slowly walked into it, Mac waited like he had been instructed, even though he wanted to jump into the water to join the other man, to beg him to allow Mac to join them, to become a better version of himself.

He was like a mythical being standing there, waiting for him mid river, skin pale in the sun, the water glistening around him, in the warm summer sun, painting everything red and yellow tones. As if he had emerged from the golden sea of knowledge and power, of the light he was going to let Mac be reborn into.

Murdoc spread his arms and gave a nod, the whole world going quiet then, none of the others saying anything.

Mac felt like every step towards the riverside felt loud, even on the soft grass. He stepped into the river carefully, the cold water sending shivers up his body, but he didn’t stop.

It was now or never, a bit of cold water wasn’t going to stop him; not with Murdoc right there, waiting for him. Even if it had been colder, Mac would have joined him.

The river ground was soft, except the few stones he met now and again on his little trip to Murdoc; each step became a little harder as the water seeped into his clothes and made it heavier. Each step was a step into a new life.

“Sweet thing,” Murdoc whispered, as he finally reached him, “are you ready?” 

He looked so proud, like he had gotten what he wanted in a way and Mac didn’t know why it turned him on, even in the cold water.

“Yes,” he whispered back. The water was just above his stomach and Murdoc smiled, giving a small nod then offering both his hands for Mac to take.

He did so, breathing a little faster; now he would know the name Murdoc had chosen for him, what the other members would know him as, even if it wasn’t one of nature like the others. Murdoc turned them a little so the members were at their side, able to see Mac’s rebirth.

“My followers - Earth,” Murdoc then said loudly, proclaiming it as much to the earth of whose blood they stood in, as Murdoc had explained to him earlier, as he told the others members of the Eden commune, “I am here to offer another of your children to be reborn, to join my herd, to be saved from darkness. This one… is special. He shall not bear a name of nature.”

There was a few gasps amongst the followers, confirming to Mac that it was indeed unusual, that he was indeed special, just as Murdoc had said and a mix of pride and awe washed over him. He went from not mattering, to suddenly being very important and close to Murdoc. He was going to be the lover of the one that was essentially a god to the commune.

He was going to stay here, together with Murdoc, soon actually being the lover of the man he had fallen in love with in the last couple of months. The man whom had saved him from the darkness, from the thoughts of suicide and wanting to disappear into nothing.

“Your name might be familiar, yet not what you usually go by,” Murdoc then said, “For now on, you shall let your former life die, no longer going by Mac. Instead you will be known, called and thought of, both of us, but also by the earth-” Mac held his breath;

“- as Angus.”

Angus.

Angus.  

Angus. 

Not Angus.

Angus meant Agnes. The name he was given by birth by his parents, yet he had never connected to the name Agnes. 

Because Angus was connected to Agnes, the many years of being forced into a gender and a role that he couldn’t connect with. The name he walked with, when the man inside of him was hiding. 

When he was Agnes, the name had over the years made him nauseated as people called him a tom-boy, bullied him for his lack of femininity, the name that had been a part of the memories of binding his chest improperly, despite the pain it brought along.

Yet, when he was 18 and given the chance, he hadn’t chosen something better. Instead it was Angus. It was close enough that his grandpa didn’t protest, it was close enough that people wouldn’t have to try that hard , which now felt as such a low standard, but he had been desperate for the acknowledgement. The testosterone had made him feel better, yet Angus still had bad memories. It reminded him of Agnes and of bullying.

Because the name Angus had only resulted in a different kind of bullying, because who was called Angus Macgyver ? He had just asked to be bullied. So he had learned to hate Angus, those five letters, just as he had hated Agnes, another five letter name.

Angus was the name of the child hiding inside him, blonde and alone, only Grandpa Harry and Bozer to be connected to. It was the name of the kid who had hated every time people had said Agnes. It was memories of his childhood and the traumas he had attempted to forget along the way. It was connected to the loss of his mother, to the abandonment of his father. 

Cheering, loud screams of his new name, not related to the nature he had come to appreciate the last couple of months, yet chosen by Murdoc. The others screamed, almost chanting it in between each others, drums slowly started up again,

“Strip.”

The command took him by surprise for a moment, making him blink confused at Murdoc. He hadn’t been told he would be forced to strip in the middle of this.

“W-what?”

“I said strip,” Murdoc repeated, voice bordering on demeaning, as if what he had commanded was obvious, “Kids don't get born with clothes, do they? Neither don’t worry I’ll cover you once you get up.”

Mac blinked, before opening his mouth to protest, yet one of Murdoc’s hands slid into his own pocket, then pulled out a knife. With eased movements he cut open the leather strings that held the tank top open on one side and Mac felt like he was frozen. Then the other too and Mac just let him , unsure of how to say no. Then the top was pulled off him and his upper body was exposed, both the chest scars from his top surgery, but even more the slightly red gunshot wound. Murdoc offered him a hand to hold onto as Mac then pushed down his pants and underwear, feeling himself blush despite the cold water.

Finally naked in the golden water, the river then claimed the clothes, carried it along the stream, as if to take away the last part of a former life, even though they were green. 

Murdoc’s smile was bordering on a smirk and Mac wanted to protest, just for a second. Say that he couldn’t be reborn as Angus, that the name would hurt too much, despite having chosen it instead of Agnes. Yet he couldn’t get out a word, because how was one to protest Murdoc in just this moment? He was a deity, welcoming Mac into his flock, into the life of happiness.

Murdoc gestured for Mac to come closer and he did so, eyes solely watching Murdoc’s dark ones.

“Ready to be reborn as Angus?” Murdoc asked gently, barely audible over the screaming and chanting, yet instead of protesting, Mac merely nodded. He had goosebumps all over, the water freezing and he feared it for a moment. He supposed he was finally going to be born as a man, yet the whole thing felt so intense he could barely focus on that part.

He was standing so close to Murdoc, so close to the man he had promised to follow everywhere and he still wanted to, still wanted to walk along Murdoc, even behind him.

“Remember, Angus, being born is not an easy task.”

Mac didn’t get to ask what exactly Murdoc meant, before the hand slid over his head, the pushed him beneath the water.

The water was cold like ice, which he had known since he had been standing in it for a while while Murdoc had spoken, yet being submerged like this, still felt different. It was like several tiny knives stabbed into his skin.

Then Murdoc’s hand moved from Murdoc holding Mac down, by pushing down on top, to the hand sinking into his hair, grabbing it. His entire body was submerged, kept beneath the water.

Mac could still hear the screaming and the drums, even from beneath the cold water that felt like it was beginning to numb his body. He felt the stream  of water gently tugging on him, trying to get him to follow along - but on his knees beneath the water, toes sinking into the soft ground and Murdoc’s hand in his hair, prevented him from being carried along the river.

What Mac had expected to be a short submersion, wasn’t. In fact, Mac was pretty sure over 10 seconds had passed, yet the pressure from Murdoc that kept him down, didn’t ease. 

Mac felt panic shoot through his veins and though he trusted Murdoc, the hand feeling like a slight comfort, but as the seconds continued to pass by, Mac felt more and more unease was seeping into the water as well. He dismissed the thought; Murdoc wasn’t going to hurt him, there was clearly a reason for Mac being held down in the water like this, there was some way to justify this.

Until now Mac had kept his eyes closed, tried to keep calm beneath the water surface, but now he slowly, oh so slowly, blinked, trying to see anything. There was nothing but the golden, blurry sight of the river, then Murdoc’s pants right in front of him, like darkness in the light. Mac closed them again, shielding his eyes from the river water once more. 

He was submerged and naked, so vulnerable and powerless, yet as it continued on, Mac didn’t know what to do. The time was beginning to run out. Literally . He felt his body slowly starting to struggle more and more to remain calm, the water feeling like it was beginning to force its way into his body, in any possible way. Like doubt of Murdoc’s love, his fear of dying slowly reappearing, the fear of not coming up, being submerged until death.

Mac couldn’t help himself; he felt his hands move, one sinking into Murdoc’s pants to have a grip on it, the other breaching the water to hold onto the wrist of the hand twisted in his hair, that was slowly beginning to hurt.

His body was starting to fight.

It was a natural response, Mac knew that. If you were drowning, your body would respond, trying to save itself. So Mac did, unable to help himself. His hand began to claw a little at Murdoc’s hand that held him down, the other tugging on Murdoc’s pant leg. Yet nothing happened, in fact Murdoc just pushed him down even harder, which made Mac struggle even more, trying to twist his head free from the grip of Murdoc.

Air. He needed to breathe. The water was forcing its way into his nostrils and it hurt and Mac fought the urge to attempt to breathe underwater. He clawed just a little more at Murdoc’s hand and arm, trying to signal he couldn’t go on much longer. 

He trusted Murdoc, but the loyalty that he had been convinced would never waver once he stepped into the water, just a moment ago, was being tested; maybe that was the point? Murdoc wanted to see if he was worthy of truly being his lover, his loyalty real? Was he not supposed to follow Murdoc blindly like a lover, was that not what was expected of him?

It was such an opposite experience to when he had been shot in Afghanistan. He had been surrounded by golden sand then, but now he was submerged in golden water that was threatening to kill him as well, held down by the man he wanted so deeply.

Mac felt like he was going to pass out as he let go of Murdoc’s pants leg. His other hand let go of Murdoc’s wrist and was submerged into the water, once again.  This was it, he thought, he was going to pass out. Murdoc would have a justification of course, Murdoc trusted that, there had to be a reason.

Then, just as Mac was convinced he would never breathe again and he felt water seep into his mouth, he was pulled up .

Escaping the water felt like euphoria; he coughed violently as Murdoc pulled him close, holding him over the water and Mac felt grateful, for he wasn’t sure his own legs could do so right now. He could barely hear Murdoc’s cooing praise in his ear over his own coughs, the cheering and screaming in the background not making anything easier. His gasping breath felt like a present, air finally welcomed into his lungs with each wet inhale.

He had done it.

“So well done, sweet thing,” Murdoc cooed into his ear, upper body warm and dry against Mac’s wet, cold and slippery skin, as he couldn’t help but cling onto Murdoc, finally saved. Once again, Murdoc had saved him, saved him from dying.

There was the constant chanting and screaming of Angus, Angus, Angus.

Mac blinked a couple of times, looking up at Murdoc, who was smiling down at him so warmly, that the moments of fear fell from his body, just like the waterdrops did right now.

“Well done, sweet Angus,” Murdoc cooed, “let’s get you up.”

Mac was given Murdoc’s robe before his groin was exposed to the other members and it clung to him as he was hugged and congratulated by a sea of green clad people, happy faces and kisses on his cheek. Fern, Jay, Luna and Rose were all so happy, having new clothes ready.

“We weren’t allowed to tell, sorry,” Jay explained as he gave Mac a towel and some dry clothes, “being born isn’t easy. We didn’t want to make you nervous.”

No, being reborn had indeed not been easy.

The party afterwards felt like a fever dream, especially after the experience of being convinced that he was going to drown. Redressed in green, dry, clothes, Rose having reappeared with the brooch from his shirt that was taken by the river, a proud smile on her face.

“Don’t worry,” she said as she handed it back to him, “I wasn’t going to let it disappear.”

The food was wonderful, almost tasted better than he had tried before, the drinks either bitter or sweet, the singing and dancing loud - and Mac knew for a fact he was going to be overwhelmed as fuck tonight and tomorrow even though the cleansing ceremony was tomorrow. But he felt so happy, as if he was drugged and high.

They danced like when Mac had first been initiated to be a member, round in circles, in between each other, to the drums and singing, the violins and there might be a banjo, Mac wasn’t sure.

Murdoc was like a dark presence at his usual spot, always there when Mac looked for him. It somehow calmed his nerves for tomorrow.

It was working.

Murdoc knew full well that it was working, yet it was still such a rush that it was working, that his plan was coming along perfectly . It was clear that his sweet Angus was ready for tomorrow - and then, then , Murdoc could sink his teeth fully into his sweet thing, pull him apart and take him, just like Murdoc had fantasized about for months, now they could all become real.

They had once again slipped drugs into his drinks and oh, how his sweet thing looked happy, dancing and laughing. After tomorrow, after tomorrow night to be exact, when they had finally become proper lovers, he had no doubt his sweet bird would be tired and exhausted. Yet, that was a price Murdoc was more than happy to pay.

This was the culmination of so many months’ worth of obsession, he had been so smitten with Angus, with the ideas of ruining and pulling his mind apart and now it was happening.

Angus was ready. Mac was dead. He had fought Murdoc in the water sure, like a pathetic being, but Murdoc hadn’t let him survive. Instead it was Angus who emerged, whom Murdoc would let live forever together with him. Who he would take apart and love. Ruin all he could.

Murdoc rose from his throne, as he liked to think of it as, parting the green clad followers without problems, like a dark god with a mission. Which he had. His sweet bird needed to understand that Murdoc was serious.

He caught him dancing, literally, grabbing his wrists and pulling him from the dance into the middle of the circle. He grabbed Angus’ face gently, sweetly, pulling him close and tipping his head up.

Murdoc kissed Angus in front of everyone, essentially staking his claim, to cheering of the others.

Chapter Text

Despite the tiredness and the urge to do nothing but sleep, Mac is up again next morning, though having been allowed to sleep in for another hour.

Or, is it really Mac getting up in the little room of the cabin he has come to think of as home. Supposedly, it’s Angus staring back at him in the mirror, with dark bags under his eyes and morning hair. 

He couldn’t remember when he had gone to bed exactly, but he had enjoyed himself; that he knew.

Murdoc had kissed him in front of everyone, shamelessly and hard, his lips opening and his tongue caressing Mac’s own. It had made him blush but moan shyly into the kiss, letting Murdoc take whatever he wanted from him.

He was Angus now, as much as the name still made  him uncomfortable. Mac knew he had to get used to it. Just like he supposed Rose, Jay, Luna and Fern getting used to their new names. He didn’t even know his friends’ actual names. They weren’t anything but the nature-names in his mind.

Soon he would be nothing but Angus in everybody’s minds too, a part of the Eden family, under the wing of Murdoc. Though he would be closer than anybody else. 

He washed himself in the shower, before changing some green clothes he was given by a couple of people yesterday as a welcoming gift. He would have to change when the cleansing ritual happened, but that was hours from now. At least he wasn’t the only one getting cleansed today, a couple of others going through the ritual at the same time.

His hair was wet, as he checked his phone for a second, which had been abandoned on the desk. It was turned off, which was odd, since he had just left it on silent the day before. Even weirder, there was more than enough power on it, for it to not just have died.

52 missed calls and 29 messages. Most of the calls were from Jack, though a few were from Bozer, same with the messages. 

It felt intense to realize that they had tried to contact him so many times. Why? Perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted Jack’s call yesterday. 

Maybe he should send both Jack and Bozer a message. Just say he is fine. They needed to calm down. Yet, he found himself turning off the phone once more and putting it down on the desk, to go find some breakfast.

The day went by slowly, yet too fast at the same time. Mac - or Angus, as he was supposed to consider himself now - was so tired he could fall asleep if he sat down for too long. His arm hurt too, shoulder biting into the rest of his body, like a constant reminder that it was a broken body. Yet he didn’t want any painkillers, even when offered. He wanted to be awake and clear minded for the cleansing ceremony. There he could let go of his burdens, there he could get the sin of his former life washed somewhat away. Then a new one could start, together with Murdoc.

It was getting closer to the evening just like the day before. 

Mac had helped clean and prepare for the ceremony, despite his tiredness and the offer to just relax. He wanted to help. Wanted to see what went into a ceremony like this.

Some things were simple and made sense. Cleaning dishes. They had already been used a lot the day before and Mac helped dry off the washed ones for a couple of hours. Making more food - he dutifully kept out of the kitchen, Jay not letting him help with much - as well as a couple of people who cleaned up and got ceremony clothes ready.

Mac knew there was going to be blood involved in the ceremony, animal blood. Yet it had still taken him by surprise to see Rose dragging along a goat - only for it to be killed a few moments later. Humanely, a single shot. They were going to eat it that same night at least, they weren’t just killing it for the blood.

He had been prompted to give Murdoc something important to him at the ceremony, since it was his first one. Almost like a little offering. Mac didn’t really have a lot, he had his clothes and quite basic things. So, in the end he had decided to go with the swiss army knife that was always in his pocket, ready to help in any kind of situation. It was the most important thing he had, besides his phone and it wasn’t a proper gift, he concluded. Besides, he was convinced Murdoc would take care of it, even if it was hard to give away more memories from his outside life. It was another thing to let go of, he supposed.

The thing that had truly caught him off guard, was when he saw the outfit he was supposed to wear for the ceremony. Because it was very different from all the others who were getting cleansed, as they all got ready in the same room.

“Why– Am I supposed to only wear that?” he asked, not caring how uncertain he sounded. Everybody else that was going to be cleansed were wearing long tunicas that went around their knees, Jay included.

Yet, what they gave Mac, was nothing but a sheet. A light, green sheet, with darker green embroidery along the edges, resembling branches. 

Fern and Rose were there, the loyal helpers when it came to introducing Mac to new things.

“I’ll be honest, Angus,” Fern said, still holding the sheet, “I actually don’t know why, but yeah. Only that .”

“It’s almost see-through,” Mac pointed out with a tight voice, touching the sheet and yup, it was not just almost see-through, it was very much close to just being see-through.

“Then you can see something at least!” Rose pointed out, always the optimistic one in the group.

“But then people can almost see me… naked too,” he answered, the idea already making him blush, “is it really necessary?”

“It’s a request from Murdoc,” Fern answered in a silvery tone, an encouraging smile on his face, “It’s because you’re special to him, Angus.” 

A request from Murdoc. Murdoc really wanted him to wear only this? Mac was afraid he was going to look like a ghost among all the others wearing tunics. A ghost of his former self. Or perhaps, it reminded him more like a veil. 

If it was what Murdoc wanted, then Mac wasn’t sure how to deny the leader it, despite the discomfort it gave him. How was he to refuse, when Murdoc chose him specifically to wear it? He was already declared special in public when he was reborn yesterday. This was no exception, he supposed. Mac took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he finally said, “but you two better watch out for me so I won’t fall.” Fern laughed gently together with Rose’s sweet giggle. 

“We’re always here,” Rose confirmed and kissed his cheek, “Now undress, Angus, we can’t have the blood dry up before we get out there.”

“Meanie,” Mac just replied back at her, fake pouting and sticking out his tongue at her and she giggled and did so herself.

“I’m gonna get gray hair, dealing with you two,” Fern muttered, Jay giggling not too far from them, lucky enough to wear a green tunic himself.

Despite technically being covered by cloth, Mac felt very very naked beneath the sheet as he pushed down his underwear. It reminded him of yesterday in the river, though he wasn’t in the water right now.

He could feel himself blush beneath it. The world around him was visible from behind the fabric, but it had a green filter over.

“Oh you’re so beautiful,” Rose said with a dreamy voice, clapping her hands happily.

“I’m barely wearing anything,” Mac just muttered, looking down his body from under the fabric, naked as the day he was born - and reborn. He didn’t quite like it, the urge to cover his crotch strong . 

“It’s not really that bad,” Fern pointed out, taking a few steps back, “especially not when seeing you from a little more distance.”  Mac wasn’t really sure if Fern was telling him the truth or lying to make him calm down a little.

“oh, I almost forgot!” Rose turned around, moved to a table and picked somebody off, then presented it to Mac like a child offering their parents a gift.

It was his SAK. Mac reached forward, taking it awkwardly between his fingers, using a bit of the fabric to hold onto it.

“Thank you - should I hold it beneath the sheet?” he asked and since he was able to see Rose nod happily, he muttered about being exposed, as he lifted the sheet a little around one of his arms and pulled the SAK with it, beneath the fabric.

“Great! Are we ready?” Fern asked, a little louder, so that the others in the room could also agree.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Mac answered, trying to focus on the SAK in his hand, as he followed the others as the last one.

The special one. The one standing out.

The attention was the price of being Murdoc’s lover he supposed, even if he right now wished it involved a little more clothes. More importantly however, it meant he and Murdoc could officially be together soon. Then he would get all the attention from the man whom he wanted to give all of his own attention as well.

He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself shy anymore, especially not since he came to the commune and began to stay here more and more. Yet right now, he felt shy and nervous. This wasn’t what he had expected would happen that first night, when the loneliness and sadness made him cave in and go on a tour of a farm outside the city. Here he was, standing out between all the others who were going to be cleansed too.

Eyes. 

Mac could feel the eyes of the others’ on him as he walked together with the other members; it was as if the whole commune was watching them, able to see him almost naked. It both scared and thrilled Mac, a mixture of feelings he didn’t know how to explain, and didn't know how to deal with.

He just hoped people couldn’t see how much he blushed beneath the green sheet, but he knew they probably could. Exposed was the body that had given him so much gender dysphoria, in a way Mac had never expected it to be. Yet he hoped that the warm rays of the sun that once again painted the world around them yellow, orange and red tones, would hide his blushing.

Instead he tried to focus on the feeling of the SAK in his hand, the sound of his own breathing, ignoring the screaming silence around him. The feeling of his bare feet on the grass. 

He was the last one to kneel, where he was supposed to. The ceremony itself he had learned earlier at the very least, he just hadn’t known that he was going to be practically naked while it happened. Each of his own breaths sounded too loud, even though he knew it probably wasn’t. He barely dared to look up, until he saw the dark clad figure at the corner of his eye.

Murdoc was like a walking piece of the night sky in his dark, dramatic robes, dressed like a king once more. Golden jewelry everywhere, the same golden crown on his head. Black painted nails with golden details, as far as Mac could see through the fabric.

He spoke again, like he had so many times before, voice steady and orotone, as he spoke to the followers around them on the field. About rebirth, but Mac felt like he couldn’t listen, couldn’t properly focus on the words.

There he was. The one who had ripped Mac from the darkness and into the light, despite the hard fight it had been inside Mac’s mind. Here he was, with people who, just like Mac, adored him and would follow him everywhere.

Speaking of cleansing, the second kind of rebirth. Where one would let the burdens from the past fall behind, where one let the blood and the ritual take away more of the sorrow, trauma, anger, jealousy, anything that darkened one’s mind. 

Mac was ready for that. He was ready to let Murdoc take over the last thing from his past, let go of the SAK that bound him to even more memories. He was ready to let go, even though he knew it would be hard. Especially in the beginning. But Murdoc wasn’t like anybody else. 

He couldn’t deny what he had seen that day, how Murdoc had shown him a world he had never seen before.

Murdoc was special, Murdoc was above humans - and it was an honor to be chosen to be his lover. He saw that through his enlightenment. Murdoc only wanted the best for him.

He turned his head a little as the ritual began, chanting about being reborn and cleansed by earth and by Murdoc, yet it wasn’t loud. It was like stage whispering, breathy but emotional, a single drum gently holding the beat.

One of the followers, whose name Mac couldn’t remember, followed Murdoc along as he repeated the same words at each of the members to be cleansed. He held the bowl with blood.

“Let this rebirth cleanse you,” Murdoc’s voice didn’t even tremble, “let it wash away the darkness that has grown in you. Let me and my light in and let the blood clean you, so that you can live with us forever.”

Then Murdoc’s hand would dip in the carried bowl. The person being cleansed would tip their head back a little and Murdoc would let the wet, bloody hand slide along the face and a bit of the neck. This would be repeated again, then on Jay too, then another one - and then it was Mac’s turn.

Fern had explained to Mac the order of what was supposed to happen, so that he wouldn’t feel as lost in this ceremony as the others he had been in.

Murdoc stopped in front of him, eyes dark but with a pleased smile on his lips. Mac felt exposed but spellbound at the same time - and he carefully did as he was told to earlier.

He remained on his knees, but slid his hands out from beneath the sheet that covered him, exposing his arms, with his palms upwards, the SAK resting in it. Like offering the last proper memory.

Murdoc smiled, almost proudly, and that mere smile sent shivers through Mac’s body.

“Thank you, Angus,” he almost purred and Mac lowered his arms again, after Murdoc had taken his knife; yet Murdoc didn’t take his eyes off Mac, even as he slid the SAK down his pocket, hand bloody from the cleansing. That moment Mac knew that he would do anything to hear those three words again, to be acknowledged like that by his sweet Murdoc. He would let the other man spit on him and Mac would do nothing but thank him himself.

“Now, Angus,” he said, beginning just like he had before and Mac thought he would get the same words, just like the others had. Yet, it wasn’t the case. Instead another follower which Mac hadn’t noticed behind Murdoc gave the leader a crown. 

A silver crown was presented; it reminded Mac slightly of the crown that Murdoc wore himself right now, as he had done the day before. Only slightly. This instead, looked like barbed wire, made in silver. It had a dark, disturbing yet beautiful design that got blood on it as Murdoc picked it up and placed it on top of Mac's head.

It was like he was entranced, he couldn’t move, didn’t know how to or what he should do. A crown. He was wearing a crown. 

“My lover,” Murdoc said loudly, “Let this rebirth cleanse you. Let it wash away the darkness that has grown in you. Let me and my light in and let the blood clean you, so that you can live with us, with me , forever.”

Murdoc’s hand gently moved to tip Mac’s head up a little, with a finger beneath his chin and Mac followed, as he was urged to rise up a little, while remaining on his knees.

Murdoc kissed him gently, through the fabric, whispering a soft “my sweet Angus,” as he pulled back.

Sweet Angus. He was special. He was special.

The soft chanting had continued, but it had died down in Mac’s ears, only the sound of Murdoc’s voice present. He could ask anything of Mac right now and Mac would be ready to do it.

At this point, he had expected for the blood to be smeared on him too, yet not like it had been done to the others. In one way, he was correct. Yet, he hadn’t expected the rest of the relatively big bowl, being poured gently on top of him.

The fabric swallowed up the dark blood easily, letting it spread just like when Mac had been shot while in the military. Yet right now there was no pain, there was no open gun wound. There was only love as he closed his eyes, the blood hitting the sheet and seeping into it, swallowing it all up like it was dying of thirst. It went through it, making blood seep into Mac’s hair and he felt it seep down his face too, down his shoulders. It made breathing harder, but he could barely focus on it now anyways.

He had been nothing but feral with want for this moment, ever since Murdoc had told him of the ceremonies when they were at the lake - when Murdoc had asked to kiss Mac for the first time and it had lit up that fire properly inside Mac, the need, the want, the lust. Then he had known Murdoc really wanted him too, the way Mac wanted him. He was lucky to have a man, no was he even a man, like Murdoc, wanting him. Showing care, showing love, showing lust.

Mac had hungered for it and as the fabric began to stick to his skin, the flood of blood had stopped above his head - then the silence finally broke.

There was screaming and clapping and Mac finally opened his eyes, realizing how hard it was to breathe as the fabric clung to him, clung to his nose, to his mouth. But Murdoc was there, like a beacon, reaching out to gently touch Mac’s cheek. There was so much noise, that even if Murdoc had said anything, Mac hadn't been able to hear it. It was like his mind was inside his body yet didn’t speak. He was shuddering, he didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to ask and demand an explanation. Overwhelmed with this transcendent moment, with the way the noise around him continued even as his body stopped breathing.

Murdoc’s clever fingers pulled at the sheet at his cheek and pulled it free from his face; only then, allowed to breathe, Mac realized how close he had been to passing out, Mac took a couple of shaking breaths. He was offered a bloody hand and he took it, the blood being poured over him having bloodied up his own hand as well. Murdoc helped him to his feet.

“You look beautiful, my Angus,” Murdoc said, loudly enough that Mac could hear it despite the loudness around them. The world could have ended in this exact moment and Mac would have died happily and with an enchanted mind, from the mere words coming from Murdoc.

Beautiful, special Murdoc.

His body felt different as he rose, the sheet almost mummifying him, yet it didn’t matter, because Murdoc was leading him along with all the others surrounding them, in a happy ecstatic atmosphere. His legs shook at first, like he was a newborn lamb, decided to be the special one to slaughter.

There were hands gently touching his shoulders, congratulating them, but Mac barely noticed, eyes stuck on Murdoc, even as the man looked forward. He felt mesmerized by the other’s mere presence, by his hand holding Mac’s own. Both bloody, in a grip that he wanted to be continued forever.

Angus be thy name. Alas, Angus he was.

He felt alive. Lighter, as if he had truly left some of that darkness behind.

Everyone around him could have screamed murder and declared the end of the world if they wanted to, but Angus wouldn’t have noticed. They weren’t, they sang a song that Angus recognized from one of the other parties, about the sun kissing the moon. Perhaps that was the two of them. The sun and the moon. He would have been driven mad if that was the case, he wouldn’t have seen Murdoc enough then, no matter if he had been the sun or the moon. 

No, he wanted to be right here with Murdoc, in Eden. Here he would be safe from the world outside.

They were supposed to go and party - yet, as everyone seeped into the big hall to continue the celebrations, Murdoc pulled Angus from the stream of people, out of the mass of green, towards his house.

“My sweet thing,” Murdoc’s voice was husky and dark as he pulled Angus gently along, “let them party. I want you.”

And how was Angus to deny his god, what he had yearned for himself for so many months?

Chapter Text

I want you.

Despite literally being soaked in blood, still wearing the sheet that was sticking to his naked, muscular body, Angus wasn’t shivering from being cold; he was shivering from the lust, from the want, that was slithering around his body like snakes, ready to bite down onto his skin and make him combust. Even if the fabric was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable, the feeling of the wet fabric made him swallow hard, ignoring the urge to pull everything off, so as not to get as overwhelmed. Yet his eyes were only on Murdoc, the dark clad man, wearing a crown just like his own, steering him along to the house where Angus had received the enlightenment. Watching him through the bloody material. There was something dark about that, knowing he was going to be fucked in the same house where the first proper religious experience he had ever happened.

The music, laughter and singing were getting more distant with each step, his bloody hand held by Murdoc’s, leading him into enlightenment once more, just in a different way.

As soon as they were at the door, Angus was pulled inside and - there were candles, almost everywhere, different petals scattered along the floor, making Angus whimper; Murdoc had planned on pulling him away, had waited and wanted, just like Angus had. He felt himself grow wetter and if he wasn’t touched soon, he was sure he was going to pass away.

“Murdoc,” he whispered, almost as if unable to raise his voice, though the neediness and lust was exposed in the tone. Murdoc hushed him, pulling him along, closing the door behind him. Then he let go and suddenly Angus was pressed against the door, bloody sheet sticking to the wood behind him but also to his body. The crown upon his head felt heavy, perhaps heavy with emotions he couldn’t recognize, but Angus was too busy looking into the dark eyes the best he could through the sheet, to really care.

“It’s so hard to explain,” Murdoc said, darkly, “how much I want you, sweet thing. Let me take you.” 

It wasn’t really a question, not truly, but how was Angus to refuse? The voice when he had his enlightenment had repeated  I am your god, Angus Macgyver, so how could he not be in love? Feel pride over being chosen?

A small gasp of a yes left his mouth at the words but Angus nodded, moving to push away the sheet and take off the crown. So he could touch Murdoc, make him feel good, just like he had dreamt off so badly. He wanted Murdoc’s fingers touching him without the sheet.

“My beautiful being,” Murdoc crooned, grabbing Angus’ hands holding them back, “you’re the lover of a god now. I’m not letting our first time happen in the hallway, don’t undress here. Come with me.”

Angus was relieved he was beneath the blood soaked sheet, since it hid the flush that spread across his face.

“Murdoc, please,” he managed, following along Murdoc, throughout the rooms. If he wasn’t wrong there was a strong scent of roses and lavender, of the wildflowers that grew along the flood of Eden. 

Then finally it was the bedroom and Angus realized he had never seen it before, eyes flickering around. It was like the heart of the house, in both a pure and sinful way, he was here, where Murdoc slept, but also here to take Murdoc apart and be taken apart.

He already felt taken apart, his old identity ripped from him fully, cleansed of so much of the darkness that he was convinced had held him down.

The room was big; two doors, one presumably a bathroom and another somewhat open, leading into what looked like a walk-in closet. Not that Angus was here to learn the interior of Murdoc’s bedroom, no, he was too busy for that. His bed however, was big, bigger than Angus had imagined. Like an ocean of sheets and pretty pillows, flower petals around them. 

Then Murdoc touched him from behind, pulling him close, making Angus whimper and pulling him from his swimming thoughts.

His arms closing around him, pulling him against Murdoc’s own chest, made his eyes close for a moment. Through the wet sheet his hands and arms felt cold, inhuman almost. Even though he wasn’t naked, the sheet still gave him that little sense of privacy, it wasn’t much. Not as one of Murdco’s hands slid down along his stomach, settling just on his him, the fabric the only thing keeping them from touching.

In a way he felt shy, like a teenager not having had sex before, though that wasn’t true and he reached up to touch Murdoc, slipping his bloody hands out from beneath the sheet, wanting it off so badly, so that he could see properly, touch, hear, taste. He settled on touching Murdoc’s bare arms instead, sliding up along them, feeling the arm hair that he wets along the way.

“Can I undress you, Angus?” Murdoc asked, voice sounding like something Angus was unable to describe. Angus nodded, arms tightening around Murdoc’s arms, smearing the blood as he slid it down along it.

“Yes,” he managed, “Murdoc, please - I want to touch you. See you. Properly.”

Be free of the fabric dripping with blood too. The silver crown was gently pulled from his head, put on a nearby table mindlessly and then Murdoc was pulling at the sheet - and Angus gasped, helping, finally being free of the wet fabric deviously sticking to his skin, making breathing a challenge, making seeing the other blurred. 

Angus felt shy, just for a moment. Exposed, revealed, unveiled, suddenly naked and with blood still dripping from his skin, Murdoc behind, like a dark, sinful shadow. It was the first time he was naked in front of the other man, really showing himself to Murdoc in a way that so many people rarely got the chance to see.

He stood, just for a second, wondering if he would be able to turn around… or would it be Angus who was too shy to suddenly turn? No, because he was Angus now and Angus was reborn and cleansed, Angus had Murdoc to follow, he had the people of Eden to follow. His entire body was still trembling from the ritual just moments before.

“Angus,” his voice so soft and smooth, like safety; Murdoc could be the devil and in this moment, Angus would have followed his voice nonetheless, followed him into the dark. Enchanted by the mere sound.

Angus turned around, feeling himself blush and he hoped the blood smeared on his skin would hide it, eyes flickering to meet Murdoc’s eyes. He looked pleased. Happy. Still wearing his own crown, his own fabrics, dark eyes only on Mac.

He looked… dangerous.

The contrast between them right now, Angus naked and a mess, while Murdoc still looked like he was in full control, blood around his lips and on his hands be damned.

Murdoc could barely be any closer to Angus, yet it felt like he stepped even closer, hands gliding up along his muscular body, ending on each of his cheeks, holding Angus’ head still.

“Such a beautiful man,” Murdoc whispered in his husky voice, “You’re so special, Angus.”

Being so close to Murdoc, well, Angus couldn’t help himself, leaning just a little closer - their lips met in a kiss, a proper kiss, without any fabrics in between. It deepened, small sounds leaving both of them. Angus stepped even closer, as if it was physically possible to be even closer to Murdoc, as if he wanted to step into the other. He felt so wet between his legs, his clit so sensitive he was convinced he was going to come instantly if touched. As Murdoc broke the kiss, he kept their faces close, their foreheads pressed together. Breathing each other’s air desperately. Blood smearing upon each other.

“Let me make love to you?” Murdoc asked, dark love seeping into the words, making Angus almost want to drop to his knees at that moment. He wanted anything Murdoc would give him. If he had a strapon, he would have fucked the other too, whatever he wanted. He was so enamored by the attention, the love, rituals and everything that he was given by the other man.

“Yes,” Angus answered, desperation dripping from his voice, “ please. ”

Murdoc took his time. He had been waiting for this and no matter how much he wanted it to be rushed, to take what he wanted now that Angus was his, he behaved. 

This time, the first time was special and it would be remembered. He could fuck Angus quick, hard and mercilessly as many times afterwards. No, he had waited for this, waited for his beautiful sweet thing to be broken enough, to properly let go of his old self. Now here he was, adrenaline high from the ritual, beneath who he thinks as a god, mind messed up through hours of waiting and playing along.

Because now Angus was a puppet in Murdoc’s hands, thinking it was moving by itself, even though it was Murdoc who did so, hidden above. He would give Angus the comfort he had so clearly needed, craved and starved to receive. Murdoc’s touch and comfort would be the right one soon, the only one Angus would want. He would make sure Angus felt loved and safe inside Murdoc’s garden, and see the world around him as a hell without end, filled to the brim with darkness. Even if he had to help Angus along to get that belief. 

He pushed his sweet thing back to sit on the bed, watching the way the blood dripped down his body.  Angus’ eyes were on him like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, couldn’t believe how he was allowed to see Murdoc undress. Murdoc let him help with the pants, smiled down at his precious lamb for slaughter, whose hands were shaking. Skin bloody, the red color a sharp contrast against the white sheets. Murdoc slid off his cape, then his shirt. The jewelry remained on, as he then gently pressed his hand against Angus’ chest, his own hand bloodied too. It was funny how Angus hadn’t seen Murdoc naked before, yet Murdoc had watched Angus undress and get dressed so many times through his hidden cameras. But one thing was watching through a screen, another thing was to have his sweet thing here, beneath him. To touch, lick and bite, to mark and fuck, to keep for himself. Angus would never again have sex with anyone but Murdoc.

“Move further up,” he cooed, Angus instantly doing as told and Murdoc followed his movements, like a panther deciding how to kill. He ran his hands along Angus’ vague abs, the man beneath him whimpering, Murdoc sliding his hands to take a hold of both his hips. He had gotten so beautiful after Murdo began to take care of him - while his arm still hurt, he had muscles back on the arms, back on his body. So strong that Murdoc was convinced that if he actually tried, he might even be a threat for Murdoc. Then again, Murdoc knew all his weak spots. 

“Don’t worry, sweet thing,” Murdoc cooed lovingly, “I’ll make you feel good.”

“Murdoc, please I need you so fucking mu- holy fuck!”

Oh what a wonderful noise from his sweet Angus, who tried to hold his sounds in, slamming his hand over his mouth - but Murdoc was having none of that. He pulled back from between Mac’s legs, lips and chin already wet. Angus was like an animal in heat, desperate for somebody to touch him. Murdoc would be his savior, just like he had been ever since seeing the blonde man. Ever since shooting him. It had been such a brilliant choice of his, just like so many others choices he took.

“Don’t you dare to hide your sounds,” he commanded, the darkness and want clear in his voice, not really giving Angus an option, “don’t try to hide how I make you feel.” He felt like the desperation for tearing his sweet thing apart was apparent - he might as well have had fangs, blood and drool dripping from his sharp teeth.

Naked, covered in blood from the ritual, smearing it upon the white sheets on Murdoc’s big bed. Eyes unfocused, the dark pupils wide, looking high. Probably from the adrenaline and the intensity of the ritual, no doubt - not to mention, the fact that Angus believed he was in the bed of a god.

And isn’t he just, Murdoc thought, he is in my bed after all.

It took him such a short time to make his pretty Angus come, a fact that made him chuckle, tasting Angus on his tongue as the blonde man moaned, hand sliding down as if to hold onto Murdoc’s hair. Yet he behaved and didn’t touch Murdoc’s hair like a good boy, and Murdoc gave his cunt another lick, causing Angus to keen. He sucked at his little cock and Angus all but screamed.

Angus wasn’t sure how he would be able to survive this. They were finally both naked, their bodies touching. Warm and wet from the blood, leaving marks on the sheets that Angus was sure he would feel shy about at some later point.

Murdoc looked up at him with a pleased, proud smile after already making Angus come twice, a fact that didn't help on his shyness - but Murdoc looked absolutely feral, licking his lips as if Angus’ front hole had been the best thing he had ever tasted. 

Angus dared to move, touching Murdoc with gentle fingers, leading him up, a hand in the well taken care of hair - then Murdoc was above him, kissing him again and Angus felt like he was in heaven. Despite the taste of himself, it was worth it. Yet he wanted so much more, especially before he became too oversensitive. Murdoc’s hands ran along his body as if he was a bloody canvas to explore, running along the top surgery scars, then the scar from his bullet wound, making Angus whimper.

Their eyes met and Murdoc smiled, leaning down to kiss him softly. “My perfect sweet thing,” he whispered, before sliding his hands down and in between Angus’ legs, lifting them up. 

Murdoc knew for a fact that his sweet thing was on birth control, so he didn’t bother with a condom. He wanted to feel everything , no barrier between them. Murdoc was going to overwhelm his beautiful Angus with pleasure, make him feel nothing but the pleasure and pain that Murdoc offered him.

Another time he would tie his beautiful being up, not allow him to move and touch as much as he wanted, but for now, he wanted to feel the desperation and lust from the blonde too. He liked the way Angus gasped, gripping the sheet with one bloody hand, the other touching Murdoc’s shoulder. Murdoc pressed inside his front hole and oh this had been worth the wait.

Spreading his legs a bit more for Murdoc, eyes barely able to stay open, he thought about how long it had been since anyone have had the honor of fucking Angus. He was so hot and wet around him, letting out small gasping sounds as Murdoc pushed fully into him. Finally fully inside him, Murdoc wasn’t sure if he had ever been so powerful. The only thing more powerful than this would be killing his naive beautiful thing after fucking him - but the idea of losing what was finally his? No.

“Mu-Murdoc-”

How adorable. 

“I got you, darlin’,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss him. He moved Angus, pressed in as deep as possible, Angus’ legs moving around and locking behind his back - and Murdoc held onto his beautiful being, hand beneath him on his lower back to hold him up.

It had felt like sliding into the kind of heaven Murdoc explained to the others, but didn’t believe in himself. It was better than the rush of killing someone, because this one wouldn’t end in the same way. Murdoc was happy to let himself get addicted to it, he would get Angus addicted to his cock as well. Addicted to the pleasure and orgasms that only Murdoc could give him, the only ones granted by his god .

He felt like he wasn’t there, not really. The pleasure filling him with the thrusts, though slow, overwhelmed him. Made him groan and sink his wet, bloody fingers a little deeper into Murdoc’s skin. He had to be in a different world, this felt too good to be in the normal world.

“My precious Angus,” Murdoc pulled him into the moment and Angus blinked, another moan slipping from his lips, which were bloody too, just like the rest of him. Just like they were. A dark mess of a sight if anyone was to see them right now. 

“More,” Angus asked, so desperate for the pleasure that was filling him up, which he had waited for, for so long. Now that it was finally here, he couldn’t let it go, wanted more, his body and mind demanding more. More movement, more sounds, more feelings, more pleasure, “Murdoc, harder!” It was as close to a demand as it would get, he supposed - but Murdoc clearly didn’t mind, instead he grinned, such a beautifully haunting picture above Angus, cock still fully inside of him.

Then he pulled his hips back, as far as Angus would allow him, afraid that the other was going to pull out, were going to deny him the pleasure he so desperately wanted, no, needed . He felt feral, his entire body on fire. But then Murdoc finally pushed into him again. Starting a faster rhythm. Knocking out the air of his lungs with each of them, wordless shouts and moans leaving Angus’ mouth without his consent.

It was just perfect, out of the world kind of experience. Angus had never tried sex feeling like this, had never felt like this to any person in the world, let alone a god. Murdoc was moaning and groaning into his ear, biting his neck and shoulder and Angus was convinced he had died and gone to heaven, even if just for a short moment. Their bodies were sweaty and hot, fingers digging into each other's skin and muscles, desperate to hold onto. Angus didn’t even care if his legs cramped up or anything like that, he would keep going if it meant Murdoc wouldn’t stop fucking him.

And Murdoc didn’t stop - not until Angus came suddenly and unexpectedly, crying out Murdoc’s name much louder than he intended to, but that only seemed to spur Murdoc on even more, upping the speed for a few more thrusts. It was too much, too overwhelming, making Angus cry out and twist in his grip, but the hands on his hips tightened. Murdoc using him, continuing to fuck him like this shouldn’t be so hot to Angus, but it was . His hips tipped and Angus all but screamed, the angle perfectly hitting all the good spaces and just along his clit. He was still so overwhelmed, that it bordered on pain but he didn’t care, yearned for more, for whatever he would get. Angus came another time, unable to stop it, forced from his body too. Then Murdoc came too, with a loud growl like shout; he filled Angus up, seed spilling inside of his body. 

Teeth sinking into his skin, almost like fangs, adding pain to the pleasure and the fact that the bite would make a mark only made Angus love it even more.

They slowed down together, gasping for air, close and holding onto each other. Angus wasn’t sure he would ever have a moment like this. A pleased sound leaving him, a small happy laughter leaving Murdoc, who leant down to kiss him, giggling into his mouth. He pulled out and Angus already felt empty, but high on feelings, kissing Murdoc back deeply, riding the wave of pleasure and happiness.

He didn’t stop, pounding mercilessly into Angus who couldn’t do anything but let out a small mantra of “ uh uh uh ”, which was like music to Murdoc’s ears. After tonight nobody would bring pleasure to his Angus, nobody but Murdoc would be allowed to touch his sweet thing like that. 

Between his small mantras there was sobbing and shaking, his beautiful Angus clearly overstimulated yet still so wet, warm and tight around Murdoc’s cock. His strong fingers grabbing onto Murdoc’s body, nails pressing into his skin and Murdoc allowed it with a growl. Murdoc tipped his hips a little more and oh , wasn't that just the right spot? Angus keened desperately, the sound making Murdoc slam even harder into him. 

He wanted to rip out his sweet thing’s heart and eat it whole, and wanted the younger man to give up everything just to have the honor of being near Murdoc. To breathe the same air was a privilege that Murdoc could just as easily rip from Angus too, if he wanted.

This was the culmination of so many months of waiting, of touching himself while he watched his sweet Angus. Sometimes just getting off to the fantasies of what he could do with a pliant and messed up shell of Angus MacGyver, other times following along the pace as Angus fucked himself on his fingers.

Now he had Angus here, moaning and begging for more, wet and hard, so perfect for him. The most perfect man that Murdoc could get. So pretty, even when completely ruined, manipulated into a perfect little world. He leaned down a little, nosing at Angus’ throat - he found the perfect spot, where Angus wouldn’t be able to hide his mark - so he bit down, sucking and continuing to fucking Angus mercilessly.

His prince, his chosen lover and special creature screamed and tightened around him as he came once again; that tipped Murdoc over the edge too, hands digging into Angus’ hips as he filled up his cunt.

They didn’t stop after that. Murdoc might have taken some viagra before this, but that was just details. He just needed to make sure that his little broken lover understood that he was Murdoc’s. He would leave the house tomorrow, covered in marks and memories of pleasure and pain. The marks might fade, but Murdoc made sure the memories never would. The many ways he fucked his sweet Angus would linger inside the blonde’s mind, burned into his brain.

The amount of orgasms that he forced from him, the way Angus almost passed out at one point. Angus clearly confused over how Murdoc could keep going and when he finally asked, Murdoc laughed in his face. Enjoying the embarrassment exposing itself by the way he blushed, even beneath the blood that was mostly dried.

“Being the lover of a god isn’t easy,” he had teased him, running his fingers over his front hole, before kissing him.

He had pulled him into his shower, taken care of his sweet thing, and cleaned him all over. Making sure all the blood was removed, all dried pieces not making him itch in any way. Then he fucked him again, bended over the counter, forcing his pretty Angus to look at himself as Murdoc brought him to orgasm.

Murdoc had fucked his cunt, touched his cock so many times that Angus all but begged him to also fuck him in the ass. 

“I want you to have all of me ,” his sweet pet had croaked, “I’ve never let anyone do it, but i want you!” 

Those words had been like magic and in the matter of minutes, he had been fingering his beautiful lover open, fucking his asshole with a finger covered in lube, while his pretty thing moaned and writhed in his lap.

The sun was on the edge of returning again as Murdoc and Angus had finally felt like they were done. 

His beautiful, broken and shattered soul of a man was laying next to him in the sheets that had been changed, sleeping all sweetly. Holding onto Murdoc, needing him even in sleep and Murdoc had never been happier than he hadn’t killed somebody.

No, Murdoc wasn’t going to kill Angus physically - just mentally.

Chapter Text

It was like a beast inside of him had been released, who had been starved from human touch, sexual desires and want. Who was now being tamed by Murdoc, who so beautifully and lovingly took him apart with pleasure, put him together again. 

Like a symphony, it started slowly and got more and more dramatic, with so many sounds and experiences, so much pleasure and pain. The smallest good boy or sweet Angus , made everything worth it, it made Angus feral for a longer song, stronger notes, more instruments, intense tones and one orgasm after the other. Angus had lived high on that night and when he woke, there had only been more. It hadn’t been a dream luring him into a safety that would cease to exist. Murdoc was still there when he woke up.

Finally Murdoc had his perfect Angus right where he wanted him. So filled with flaws that Murdoc wanted to use for his own good, that he wanted to sink his teeth into, like he had wanted, ever since seeing Angus.

Murdoc wasn’t sure whether or not he was able to fall in love. He supposed it didn’t matter, because this wasn’t love, this was the urge to own somebody else, not just physically. But with everything. He wanted Angus to look at him, every time he wanted something. He wanted the little genius he had picked up when starving and needy the most, to do whatever he said, no questions asked. Like a well trained dog, like an animal broken so much it only knew to follow orders.

They were laying next to each other, post-orgasm, Murdoc smoking. It was morning, the sun’s rays painting the room in yellow and orange colors, making everything look warm and golden. They should probably do other things than fuck, but it was like they had so much time and pleasure to catch up to. Yet there was something Angus had been thinking of. He knew he probably shouldn’t question the other man, it wasn’t his place, he was a mere human next to the man who was more. Who was special. Chosen . Yet, he couldn’t help himself.

“Why Angus?” He asked, turning his head, to watch the older man smoke, the cigarette elegantly between his long dangerous fingers, that had brought Angus so much pleasure already, “Why not something else? I don’t like the name Angus.” 

It reminded him too much of his deadname, Agnes. He didn’t know why he hadn’t changed his name again, after beginning to dislike the name Angus. He had left his old life, his life as Agnes, for dead, had abandoned it and all the memories with the use of the name Mac . It was like it was being pulled back now, the memories at the corners of his eyes. Closer than he wanted them to. 

Murdoc turned his head to the side for a moment, then sat up so suddenly it made Angus afraid he had upset the man for a moment. He moved, elegantly, like a panther going in for the kill and before Angus could do anything, Murdoc straddled his hips, looking down at him. He took another drag of the cigarette, leaning down and then blowing the smoke into Angus’ face, making him cough for just a second, blinking a couple of times.

Then Murdoc leaned to the side, killing the cigarette in one of the many ashtrays that were scattered around his home. 

He settled back, eyes down. His entire body was illuminated by the golden light, as if Murdoc was shining, having an inhuman light around his body. His dark hair and eyes had such sharp edges against the sun rays, that Angus was sure he could cut himself on the contrast. Murdoc hadn’t replied yet and the fact scared Angus; had he truly upset the other man? But the fact was still there, even as Murdoc loomed above him, looking as if he was taken right out of a baroque painting.

“Is your name not to be Angus?” The words almost seemed dangerous, though still silkily and pleasant as they left Murdoc’s mouth.

The fear of disappointing the man he loved, the man he wanted to give his life up for overwhelmed him for a moment. Because he had disappointed so many people, hadn’t he? The least he could do to Murdoc was to show him the respect he deserved, accept the choices he had made.

“Did you not ask for me to free you from the darkness?” he asked, tipping his head to the side, dark eyes watching him so intensely that Angus had to look away, “Did you not ask for me to remake you, pull darkness from you and show you the light? Did I not save you? He leant down a little, closer to Angus. He felt so judged and wrong now, wanting to apologize and tell Murdoc why he didn’t like the name, but he couldn’t since the god straddling him continued.

“Was it not the name I chose for you?”

“I - I yes, but -”

“You asked to be reborn, Angus, I let the world reborn you, to be one of our own. I let you into our Eden, I created you a new life. I gave your body a proper life to live, did I not?”

His voice was becoming more husky, “I reshaped you, so that you wouldn’t be eaten by the darkness that looms outside of the Eden, made you mine. I’ve named you. Nature has named you, you have been reborn and named. Angus. Just because of the memories that you have with the name, the way it connects to your past, doesn’t mean it’s not the right name. I’ve given you something from your former life that you can reshape too,” he leant down and kissed Angus’ throat, kissed his jaw, “why do you question my choice then, precious Angus?”

He hadn’t realized he was tearing up, until one of the tears escaped his eyes, making him close them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered shamefully, leaning into Murdoc’s touch, sliding his arms around Murdoc’s shoulders, “I’m sorry Murdoc I shouldn’t have asked. I just… when I changed my name I felt so weak.”

“You might have been weak then,” Murdoc answered, hand sliding to touch his jaw, forcing him to look in his direction, even with Angus’ eyes closed, “Look at me.”

He did. Murdoc still looked so intensely at him that it hurt and he instantly wanted to close them again - but he behaved, keeping them open.

“You might have been weak then, might still be a little weak now. But you have created strength ever since coming here, haven't you? Didn’t you want to escape the sadness and the weakness that the past and the darkness forced onto you?”

“Yes,” his voice was barely more than a whisper, barely audible even, flashes of how he felt before Eden reappearing in his mind, remembering how each day was a chore, “you did.”

“Then don’t question me, Angus,” Murdoc said, his gaze softening a little, “let me help you, become unburdened here in Eden,” his voice turned softer, “my sweet Angus. I’m only trying to free you.”

He leant down to kiss Angus and the blonde whimpered into the kiss, letting Murdoc take control. This was better than before, even if he didn’t want the name Angus.

When Angus woke, he was alone. His body was sore, marks covering his skin as he sat up, blinking tiredly. Murdoc wasn’t there, like he had expected. Like he had been since he was reborn. Had it been two days? Three ? He blushed at the thought of being inside the house for so long. Not being seen by the others. They would no doubt know what had been going on, it wasn’t like Murdoc had kept it low at last.

Kissed him in front of everyone, and gave  him a crown. Angus swallowed hard. He knew he just needed to get over it, but he had been on such a high that he hadn’t even considered it. He stood up, carefully moving towards the door towards the living room. He couldn’t hear Murdoc out there and he wasn’t really dressed to just… waltz out, especially not if anybody was out there that wasn’t Murdoc . Not only would they see him naked, they would see him absolutely covered in bite marks and bruises, leaving little to imagination.

He moved to step into the walk-in closet he had seen briefly, planning to steal at least a pair of Murdoc’s boxers. 

Just as he stepped into it, he saw Murdoc closing a door, further into the closet, behind himself. A locking sound was heard.

“You’re awake,” Murdoc said casually with a grin, fully dressed himself, walking towards Angus  “in a very beautiful state, if I might dare to say so.”

Angus smiled, tipping his head back to meet Murdoc’s lips. Murdoc’s hands slid over his chest.

“I planned to - ah - steal a pair of your underwear,” he admitted as Murdoc kissed his neck and jaw with a pleased hum, “fig-figured-“ the hands on his chest slid further down, making focusing hard.

“What did you figure, sweet thing?” Murdoc teasingly asked, finally removing his fingers, looking quite pleased with himself. One of the hands moved to rest on Angus’ cheek instead.

“I figured I would sneak into your kitchen and get some coffee,” he finally managed, leaning against his hand. The cold metal of his golden ring was cool against his skin, his eyes closing shortly, enjoying his touch.

“Ah, you’re free to roam around as you please in my house. I’ve actually made a room for you, for when I need my sleep,” the man sensually said, removing his hand, “a pair of underwear on and I’ll show you the room.” 

“What’s in there?” He couldn’t help his curiosity, nodding towards the room Murdoc had exited, with the lock on the door.

“Ah. That one is private . No visitors in there,” Murdoc mused, as if it was the most logical thing in the world, before touching Angus’ nose with his pointing finger for a second, giving it a little boop. “Now. Clothes, coffee and room.”

He had been so easy to distract and keep busy. Which was good, even though he had noticed the room where Murdoc kept his overview of everything. The entire ranch, but even more important, any place that his sweet Bird could be. Even the spot out at the lake in the forest that Murdoc had showed him. Now the new room too. They had got the room ready, putting in the small hidden cameras so that Murdoc could keep him under watch, even in there. The room was almost empty, white and without windows, with a mattress as a bed. He had promised to give Angus more, to make it a proper home; he had no actual intention to do so. This was what his little bird needed. A cage that reminded his mind that he was stuck, whether he realized it or not.

Though, breaking in the room was necessary of course.

“M-Murdoc,” His voice was soft and needy. Weak.  It reminded Murdoc of how he had sounded when he had been after the drugs, behaving like Murdoc wanted him, how he reemerged, with a stronger belief. How he wasn’t Mac anymore, reborn to be Angus instead, oh so naive. He should give him more soon he realized; Dr. Crow would be more than happy to try something more out. Besides, he needed to stop asking questions, especially now that they were going outside soon. He should just follow Murdoc around, do whatever he was told. Still kept close by Fern, Rose, Jay and Luna who made sure to distract his sweet boy from the world outside.

“Sssh, Angus,” Murdoc hushed, “be a good boy,” another sweet whimper, “let me take you apart.”

Angus nodded and Murdoc slid his left hand to his neck, resting it there, watching Angus’ big blue eyes. He applied pressure, wondering for a moment how Angus would look writhing in despair, desperate for air, perhaps even tugging at Murdoc’s hand. Would he let Murdoc choke him to death? But not now. Instead he just kept it there, his other hand sliding down to the belt under his own robe, pulling open his pants. Angus twisted happily, a needy sound leaving him. So sweet, so desperate for Murdoc, even now.

He removed the hand around his neck, giving his cheek a gentle smack. “On your hands and knees, sweet boy.” He scrambled like he was desperate for it and wasn’t he just. Murdoc pushed his own pants down, exposing his cock to the cold air - but first he couldn’t help himself, bending over to lick from his cunt to his asshole, making Angus cry out and fist his fingers in the bedcovers. So needy.

They fucked like rabbits once more. Even though Angus behaved like Murdoc was the drug, the opposite was very much true as well. The way he could manipulate this otherwise smart man, make him hurt, press down on his bad shoulder without his lover fighting it. He wasn’t in love with his bird, not really, was he? He wasn’t even sure he was able to love, but he was able to own and he felt possessive about his sweet thing. His, his alone.

Murdoc didn’t want him to sleep in his room. In a way, Angus was upset, feeling like he wasn’t good enough to sleep there. 

“Even a god needs sleep,” Murdoc had mused, kissing his forehead, “that’s why I got you the room - then you can sleep closer to me instead of Fern’s place. In my bed you’re too much of a distraction, too much of a… temptation .” Angus had just accepted it, even if it made him feel bad. 

The only thing that nagged him even more than that, however… was the room. The room he wasn’t allowed to go into, locked away inside of Murdoc’s closet, keeping something secret. He had felt drawn towards the moment Murdoc had said that one is private. No visitors in there. He instantly wanted to enter it, Angus wanted to see whatever it was Murdoc was hiding in there. It tempted him, like a forbidden fruit, so close to him, so enticing. Offering some sort of knowledge he didn’t have, his god having told him no. Except this wasn’t something to eat.

However, Angus was soon distracted, since they began to venture outside again. He had to wear the crown Murdoc had given him during the second rebirth, the silver of barbed wire constantly on his head, between his golden hair. He had been shy at first, but Rose had hugged him the moment she saw him and then everything had felt okay again. The others hugged him too, more careful, all grinning, Fern having the most sly one on his face.

“Had fun, Angus?” He asked, making Angus roll his eyes and blush, Luna giving Fern an elbow in the side.

“Behave.” 

“c’mon he is like a giraff-”

“Oh my god,” Angus hid his face in his hand while Fern snickered, Rose gently patting his shoulder.

“Nah, dontcha listen to him, Angus, you’re pretty. As long as you had a good time.”

“I don’t think I can ride for a while,” he just admitted himself in a whisper, making both Rose and Luna giggle.

The next couple of days melted together, in a happy bliss of friendship and love. He felt as if he was on a rush of happiness, ignoring the gnawing urge to look inside the private room. He would behave, a god wasn’t to be messed with. 

Angus joined the group meditation instead. He helped along with Fern’s and Jay’s projects, went to Murdoc to borrow the SAK whenever he needed it, held pauses whenever he got overwhelmed or his shoulder hurt. Dr. Crow checked him over, embarrassingly cleaning a few bitemarks that had gotten a tad too deep, kindly telling Angus to remind Murdoc that Angus wasn’t a god so he couldn’t bite all that. It had made Angus blush so hard he was afraid he was going to pass out, but he just said he would nonetheless, even though he didn’t do it.

He slept inside the windowless room he had been given. In a way, he felt naked in there, with nothing but his clothes and the bed. So simple. Yet, some of the paranoia from before Eden, crawled up along his skin at night. Making it feel as if somebody were watching him. He wanted it to stop, but he wasn’t sure what to do. Telling it to Murdoc, well… It made him a little embarrassed. He wanted to be better, he was doing better. But sometimes it was like the darkness crept up on him. Told him that he was never truly alone. However, it felt like it wasn’t in a good way.

There was sand everywhere. In his eyelashes, blurring his view as he looked up at Jack, who stood up above him. His entire body was burning, blood was filling up his mouth, the gunshot wound burning. The blood was mixing together with the sand, making it feel like mud was inside his both, crawling into his lungs.

“You’ve abandoned me, Mac” Jack's voice sounded distorted, odd. In a way distant, as if it was much further away than Jack actually was. “So now I abandon you. I never cared anyway.”

"Jack!" Mac screamed or at least tried to, bloody sand spilling from his mouth, as he tried to reach out for his overwatch, darkness appearing in the corners of his eyes, the sand beginning to pull him down, filling his ears too, “Jack - Jack ! No come ba-“

Angus sat up suddenly, darkness surrounded him as he screamed, pushing the duvet of him; it felt like it was made of sand, so did the mattress and Angus crawled off it, his knees hitting the smooth floor of the room he had in Murdoc’s hole. He felt like sand was still filling up his lungs, the room still like a stranger to him, so finding the light switch felt like an impossible task right now. His breath quickened. Jack, Jack- he needed to call Jack! He hadn’t called him yet! He needed to speak to him but - but where was his phone?

Angus was crying out loud now, unable to stop his loud sobs that escaped every time he exhaled, chaos in his mind.

“Jack,” he cried out, finally managing to stumble to the wall; he followed the smooth wall to the door, finally finding the switch. He almost stumbled back at the sudden light. He needed his phone, it was in the room he had at Fern’s. Angus sobbed, desperately drying away the tears as he blinked, then he managed to take a hold of the door handle.

Except, it didn’t open.

His body was on fire, his wound hurt, his heart seemed like it raced so quickly it might break out from beneath his rib cage.

He desperately pulled at the door, touching the lock and turning it, but it didn’t help, no matter how hard he did it. Was he still stuck in a nightmare? Was this a limbo he had deserved for how he had behaved? Had the darkness finally come for him to swallow him whole. He screamed for Jack, then for Murdoc. Where was Murdoc? Why was he stuck here, in a windowless room, with a door that wouldn’t open?

At the same exact moment the door pushed open, making him stumble back. A tired looking Murdoc, with a confused face and a robe on, appeared like a savior once again.

“Murdoc!” Angus cried out, tears streaming down his face as Murdoc barely managed to open his arms before Angus was holding onto him.

“My sweet thing,” Murdoc said gently, hand petting Angus hair, the other running along Angus' spine in a calming rhythm. Angus was shaking, unable to control himself.

Angus tried speaking but his sobs mixed together with the words, making him gasp for air as well.

“Darling,” Murdoc gently said, “you’re having a panic attack. Breathe for me. Come on.” Breathe. The hand in his hair moved to hold onto the back of his neck, resting on it, grounding him.

Breathe.

Breathe .

Breathe.

Murdoc didn’t stop his gentle caress as Angus’ breathing eventually calmed down, though he couldn’t stop crying. Like his body wouldn’t let him stop. He hadn’t even managed to tell Murdoc what had happened, but he apparently didn’t need to.

“It was just a nightmare, sweet thing,” Murdoc cooed softly, reminding him that it hadn’t been real, “nothing will harm you here. You know that. You’re safe with us in Eden.”

Angus sniffled but nodded, listening to the words as Murdoc repeated them.

Nightmare. It was just a nightmare. Murdoc’s hands were gentle, his gown was soft. Neither felt like sand against his own skin. He was safe.

“I need to call Jack,” he finally managed, desperation in his voice, as the sight of his friend standing above him repeatedly appeared inside his mind, “I need my phone.”

Murdoc let out an almost amused huff. “I don’t know where your phone is, sweet thing. Besides, it’s 3 am. That can wait. Go back to bed.”

“No no no, don’t leave me,” he begged desperately, voice breaking and he felt his pulse rise again, “please, Murdoc, I can’t - not alone .”

“Darling.” He said in a voice that was a little harder, “I need my sleep. We have a meditation session for everyone tomorrow, or well, later today, you know that.” Angus felt bad for wanting to be more important than the others, but the idea of being alone right now, well, it scared him. Seeing Jack’s disappointed looks, hearing the words that still stung his heart. 

“I’ll be really quiet, I swear,” Angus begged nonetheless, “I’ll barely move, I swear.”

“I don’t know.” Angus tipped his head back a little as Murdoc said that, looking up at the older man, with a pleading look.

“Please, just. At the floor, at the foot end. Anything, please don’t leave me.”

“Hush sweet thing,” Murdoc said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You can sleep at the foot end of my bed then.”

Angus had never felt so good over being allowed to sleep there. 

Like a dog, finally allowed to sleep at the foot of its master. So desperate that he was happy to do so, so needy. 

Murdoc watched his blonde, curled together in the foot end, already asleep again. He was so pathetic, it was cute. Craving human interaction, comfort that only Murdoc could give him, that he was willingly sleeping like this.

He was perfect.

He just needed Angus to let go of his old self fully, let go of Mac. Let go of Wilt Bozer and Jack Dalton, accept that he just needed to stay here within Eden, with Murdoc.

Chapter Text

In truth, it had been a coincidence. He had slept at the foot end of  Murdoc’s bed yet another night, happy to just be close to the other man. It mostly kept the nightmares at bay, even if he felt bad for not having called Jack yet. He couldn’t find that fucking phone, he hadn’t used it for so long and it was seemingly on silent or dead, since nothing was heard when he got Fern to call him. He couldn’t remember the number either. Murdoc had told him not to worry about it, that they would find it eventually, to focus on the day ahead of him instead.

His own forbidden tree was still in his mind, as bad as he felt for not being able to forget it. He should respect Murdoc’s privacy, he was a god; he had the right to keep everything hidden from Angus, didn't he? Wouldn’t there always be something that Angus wouldn’t have the power to understand? 

Yet, it had truly been a coincidence. He had woken to the sound of a phone ringing, his mind confused for a moment, sitting up from the foot end of the bed, for a short second wondering, hoping it was his own phone. However, Angus was quickly disappointed as the phone on the bedside table was nothing like his own. Instead, it belonged to Murdoc and Angus yawned as he looked around for his god. Just two seconds later Murdoc appeared from the closet, fully dressed and with a smile on his face. He gave Angus’ head a soft pat as he passed, picking up the phone.

“Hello?” Murdoc’s voice, even when doing something as simple as speaking on the phone, felt like gold dripping from his mouth, tongue making every word sound perfect. Angus could only vaguely hear what the other on the line was saying as he picked up his green sweatpants from the floor, having taken them off during the night. Murdoc stepped into the living room, not sounding too pleased and Angus wondered for a moment what the call was about, absentmindedly walking to the closet and picking out a green t-shirt. He put it on and almost went outside again as he saw it.

The door was open.

Not much, barely an inch, yet that small line of light spoke to his mind. Angus stood frozen to the ground for just another moment, the sweet promises of knowing what was behind the door tempting him. It would settle the curiosity that had gnawed at his mind ever since seeing it.

His blue eyes flickered to the door to the bedroom. He could hear the vague sound of Murdoc still talking, so he was distracted. He wouldn’t know, wouldn’t know if Angus just took one peek. Like a small, innocent bite of the forbidden fruit, the taste of it would be secrets that would melt onto Angus tongue. Just one quick look, he told himself, a simple look into it, would give him everything he wanted. The light in the closet wasn’t on, but there was light coming from the door. Tempting, seducing and inviting him in.

Angus walked towards the door before he knew what he was doing, ensnared by the need to know. It was unbearable in his body, unable to be quieted down.

He couldn’t stop himself, his mind urging him on, his need for knowledge so feral, for what did a god hide? He reached for the doorknob, touching it. Angus held his breath as he looked over his shoulder, faintly hearing Murdoc talk. He wouldn’t know. Not now at least, he might figure it out later. But Angus was willing to beg for forgiveness, as he had already asked for permission.

It was a forbidden movement, so wrong, yet he pushed the door open, leaving the dark closet and stepping into the…

Dark room with screens, so many screens, all turned on, lighting up the room. He stepped further into it, his bare feet silent against the floor.

So many screens, with pictures of so many different places.

…. Angus stared.

Nightmare . A hellish scene that took his mind too long to truly process. Like claws sinking into his brain, slowly pulling it apart as sand poured out and made him speechless. This was the forbidden fruit, the forbidden knowledge that Murdoc denied him. It wasn’t a sweet tasting one, with sugary fruit juice that would cover his fingers, making him desperately lick them afterwards to taste the sweet nectar. No, this was ash and sand in his mouth, a taste he instantly wanted out and away, but now feared he would never be able to.

Angus Macgyver stared at the screens; while he remained silent on the outside, his entire mind was screaming out loudly, desperately, screaming for him to run, to escape, to get away. To run as fast as his body would allow him and never look back, save himself from this.

Like a volcano of horror exploding inside his mind, paralyzing his body for a critical moment. Any movement was impossible, breathing was barely an option.

Because his paranoia had been right, it hadn’t been anything he had imagined; he had been watched - seemingly wherever Mac had gone inside his old childhood home, even the fucking bathroom. Every moment, every second the other could have followed along his everyday, seen his breakdown, his showers, his most intimate moments.

The paranoia, the fear, the horrors and pains that had followed him ever since he returned from Afghanistan, broken and useless, was trying to choke him- 

Movement on one of the screens. However, it wasn’t from his childhood house, Angus realized, it was Murdoc looking for him inside his room in the house. He had been watching him there too, he would have watched him wake from the nightmare and panic, call out for Jack. He heard Murdoc call out for Angus through it, a small speaker next to the screens, letting Angus hear Murdoc’s voice. The other was looking for him. Murdoc’s dark eyes flickering up to stare directly into the camera that Angus was watching, that he hadn’t noticed either when sleeping in there. 

Did Murdoc know he was watching him?

He felt sick to his stomach, unable to breathe, staggering back from the screens, almost falling over a chair. If he remained, the community would eat him raw, swallow and keep him here, cut off from the world, from everything he knew. How much had been a lie? He needed to get away, Murdoc couldn’t find him in here, yet he felt as if he was unable to.

He needed to run. Needed to get away, away from Murdoc, from the farm and far away from Eden. It was like one choice had changed his whole reality. Had Angus not pushed open the door and walked inside, he would still have considered Murdoc’s knowledge for whenever he felt bad, for a blessing: but now he knew it was nothing but a lie.

He might already have been rotting when Murdoc found him and started watching him, but the entire community had helped it along, made him infested with worms and parasites of lies and-

“Angus.”

Even though he knew the voice of his god, his head still snapped to look at him in the door, a scared sound escaped, the first one to leave him in several seconds. Almost like a dog whimpering, caught doing something it’s not supposed to. Knowing trouble would follow.

“You’re not allowed to be in here, Angus” Murdoc said, his voice dark, dripping with danger, eyes staring intensely, with the light from the screens making his pale skin stand out, making him look inhuman, “you know that.”

You know that.

He was like a powerful and merciless God, having caught his disciple doing something sinful. Yet - was he really? How much of this had been something he could see over the cameras, how much had he gotten to know? How deeply had he penetrated Angus’ privacy, for how long had Murdoc denied Angus it? He was like something had stepped out from a horror story, crawled out from the words on the pages, planted itself in the doorway, the only way out.

“Murdoc,” the name almost felt dangerous on his lips at this moment, his blue eyes meeting the dark ones that had apparently been watching over Angus without his knowledge, without his consent. For how long, Angus wondered, for how long had he been watching the way Angus lived his life? Even before and still inside Eden?

Angus didn’t want to beg for forgiveness for touching the fruit, for eating it and realizing it was rotten to the core. It was like the rotten taste of the truth had pulled him from the forced reality, into real life.

“I- I - you’ve been watching me”, that was really not proper words for it, was it? Murdoc had been watching him. Stalking him, monitoring. He had been listening in to every moment Mac had let out a sound, every cry and breakdowns, every conversation over the phone, every moan when he touched himself. The words barely came out accusatory, not as angry as he wanted them too, as if the fear had swallowed it up. It was as if the room had pulled away the trust Angus had put in Murdoc, pointing out how much Angus had given the other man.

With the knowledge that everything Murdoc had magically known about Angus was just from stalking, well. Was anything real inside Eden? There were cameras everywhere, so many screens with smaller tabs open, showing the entire ranch.

Murdoc was suddenly not like a god, instead just a monster standing in front of the only door. Murdoc didn’t even deny having watched Angus, merely nodded, not taking his eyes off him.

“For your own safety , Angus .”

“What - what the fuck are you talking about?” Angus’ voice was shaking, but anger was beginning to boil in his blood too, reaching the surface, as he began to realize how much could have been a lie, how he had been tricked by the older man, his privacy violated. Had their random meeting even been random? His voice sounded just as golden as before, yet it was like some spell was ripping it apart, the forbidden fruit turning out to be rotten to the core.

Everything he knew was a lie.

“You have so much darkness in you, Angus,” Angus couldn’t help but let out a loud, almost amused sound at the words, as if they made any sense, yet Murdoc continued, “I had to know you were alright.” 

As if that justified all of the technology in the room, as if it justified how Murdoc had seemingly watched over him and Angus hadn’t know. As if it was silly of Angus to be horrified by it? For the first time in months, Angus felt as if his mind was clear, not clouded by any words from the other man.

“You’re crazy,” Angus whispered, watching how Murdoc barely reacted to the words, instead just tipping his head to the side, words gentle as he continued, as if Angus’ words barely registered.

“You’re being paranoid, Angus. I was protecting you. I still am.”

“ Paranoid ?” Angus repeated in a highpitched tone, running his hands through his hair, fear overwhelming him, feeling so distraught he didn’t know what to do with his hands, “I - you? fuck you, Murdoc! I hate you! - I’m leaving!”

He took a step towards the door, but Murdoc didn’t move once inch, a dark entity, in his golden jewellery and dark clothes, the black cloak making him look like the boogeyman for a short moment. Like something that would crawl out from beneath your bed, hand with sharp claws taking a hold of his ankle.

“You don’t mean that, dear,” Murdoc said, voice sounding like it always did whenever Angus was frustrated, hands folded together behind him, watching Angus with his intense, almost inhuman eyes, “Let’s talk. You’re just upset.”

“Of course I’m fucking upset!” He was screaming now, his voice a higher pitch than usual, more raw, devastation filling it up as the other talked down to him, “I don’t want to talk, I’m not staying here, I'm going! Move!”

Yet, when Murdoc then took a step forward, Angus automatically took one back, without even thinking about it. Like an authority he couldn’t fight against, his mind instantly telling him to step down.. He wanted to get out, wanted to flee, but Murdoc was blocking the only way out.

“Sweet Angus,” he said, hands moving towards Angus a little, voice gentle as if Angus was a scared animal, “be reasonable. You’re freaking out, I’m sure Crow has something that can help us.”

Crow was in on it too? Angus wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream.

Murdoc stepped closer, reaching out to take a hold of Angus’ arm, still speaking in his soft tone but Angus couldn’t hear him anymore, his words bleeding together in a mess of anguish.

Feeling too caught in the corner, like a bird knowing the cat would just eat it, Angus moved then, ducking under Murdoc’s arm, ignoring his dark voice and pushing his hands off him that sunk into the fabric, trying to hold him back, bolting from the room. The other didn’t follow, but that didn’t matter. Angus ran from the bedroom, through the living room and opened the front door so quickly that he almost knocked himself over. 

His eyes burned as he slammed the door after him, not picking up anything, since he still didn’t have his phone, too scared to waste any time. Out. Dangerous situation. He needed to remove himself from it, like it was a bomb that was going to blow no matter what, yet he didn’t even have an overwatch to look out for him; he was on his own.

So run.

Run.

Run .

His eyes were tearing up, disillusion overwhelming him- had everything, every miracle, every experience been a lie??

Small stones from the gravel road gnawed into his bare soles, the pain keeping him focused.

He passed a member who was walking towards the house, she called out to him but Angus didn’t listen, didn’t even slow down. He wasn’t stopping, he couldn’t stop. Angus wasn’t safe, he wasn’t feeling… 

He didn’t feel like Angus , not as he bolted out the house and down the road, to the grass, steering directly towards the entrance of Eden. It was Mac who in a desperate attempt, wanted his body out of the place he had considered home for months.

Without his car keys, taking the car was a stupid choice. Sure , he could break in and jumpstart it, he knew how to do that, but that would be nothing but a waste of time, he just wanted to leave now . Time his mind didn’t trust him, having the panic like fuel in his body, keeping him running. Why was the house so far from the entrance? He could hear people yelling his name. The name he didn’t want. His lungs were burning, the world burning down around him as well. 

Stop !

People were telling him to stop and a couple of people ran in front of him, but Mac skirted around them, his feet almost slipping in the grass. There was a part of him that wanted to scream, wanted to scream how Murdoc wasn’t who he said he was, how he had monitored Mac wherever he went for who knew how long. He could hear people yell at others to stop him - it was like a nightmare bleeding into real life, his paranoid mind being confirmed. With people running to catch him, to make him -

Suddenly a body collided with his own, from behind him, making him tumble to the ground with a painful groan. The grass took most of the fall, yet it still bit into his skin.

“Angus Angus - it’s okay, hey!” Fern’s voice would usually be a comfort, it had been for months, but now it didn’t help, especially not when his hands also took a hold of him, around his stomach, making Mac scream of frustration. 

He twisted, gripping at the grass to get up, screaming for Fern to let go but the other man didn’t, telling Mac repeatedly to stop fighting him. Mac didn’t want to - out of pure desperation, he elbowed the other in the stomach and towards the face, making him groan out of pain, grip slipping. Mac twisted and scrambled out of said grip, only getting two steps before another body attacked him.

He screamed, screamed of fear and anger for people to stop, to help him, to let go of him. It wasn’t him they should be attacking, he was the victim, they needed to stop! Yet nobody did, another pair of hands attacking him, holding him down to the ground, no matter how he screamed, kicked and cried.

A hand in his hair pushed his face to the ground, the grass and dirt pressed against his face, pain in his scalp as the fingers dug in, Mac almost howling of dread.

“ANGUS!” Fern snapped, the only voice reaching his mind for a moment; Mac could just see him over his shoulder, his hand buried in Mac’s hair, other people pulling his arms behind his back, despite the pain in his shoulder, “Shut up and calm down!” Fern’s eyes had usually been so friendly, but now they were nothing but cold. Looking at him with a darkness that Mac couldn’t recognize, bile appeared in Mac’s throat as he realized it.

Fern was in on it too.

Mac couldn’t help it, sobs escaping his body involuntarily, so many hands on him, pushing him down, Fern repeatedly telling him to shut up. So much betrayal, so much pain, so much confusion. Tears streamed from his eyes, blurring his sight, making his throat close up. Drool dripped from his mouth into the grass, as he sobbed with an open mouth.

“Put him in the deep,” Murdoc’s voice was loud but dark, firm in the tone, leaving nothing to discuss. 

Mac couldn’t hear his own words, as people began to drag him, hands on his arms, pulling on his bad arm, pain rushing through his shoulder; Fern’s hand was still in his hair, making his scalp sting. He could see Murdoc stand there, like a dark presence, hands behind his back merely watching as Mac screamed for them to let him go. He even yelled Murdoc’s name a couple of times, yet the man didn’t react - then he simply turned on his foot and disappeared.

Mac was dragged to a spot he hadn’t thought much about, not too far from behind Fern’s house.

Several people pulled a tarp of a big spot, Mac remembering talking to Fern and Jay about it one evening.

“It’s a well,” Fern had said with a smile, taking a sip of his soda, before giving a shrug, “Or, at least a hole so far.”

“It’s gonna be a well eventually,” Jay had pointed out, “Once Fern gets through some of his other projects.”

“Nice,” Mac had said, “I can help with it if you want.”

“That would be great.” Fern had grinned, as if something was amusing about the whole thing.

Big metal pieces created a sort of lattice, a kind of door to the hole that Mac had been told was a well. But right now, he knew everything could have been a lie. He screamed, begged for them to let him go and as he got nearer, he sunk his fingers into anything he could get a hold of. 

“No no, Fern, please, don’t don’t-” he begged the man he had considered a friend ever since arriving, realizing too late what they were going to do. 

“It’s for your own good,” Fern said, as if it was a logical explanation, a natural thing to do.

He didn’t get the chance to answer, his fingers pried off - and then he was pushed, falling into the hole, screaming as his body was in midair for a moment.

The collision was painful, like a shockwave being sent through his entire body, knocking the air out of his chest. For a moment he could feel nothing but pain, spreading all over. In particular in his right ankle.

It was as if everything suddenly went quiet and he could hear nothing but ringing in his ear, the feeling of his hard hammering away in his chest. His fingers twitched as his chest desperately tried to take in air. Somehow he managed to roll himself over to the back, letting out a cry of pain. At the top of the hole, at least 10 people stood, watching him, different expressions on their faces. Some of them looked happy, some cold and some uncaring. He whimpered, a burning feeling going through his entire body.

“Please,” he managed to get out, a bit of dirt in his mouth, “please.” None of the people above him answered. Then they disappeared out of sight, only shortly reappearing to pull over the hole that looked like prison bars now.

“ Please! ” he screamed out louder in a desperate attempt, but then they disappeared fully, “no no NO PLEASE!”

The hole was about 45 feet deep, if Mac had to give a guess as he laid on the ground at the bottom, not having moved much. It was circular on top, with concrete walls about twenty feet down; then it was as if they had stopped, the hole just having been dug deeper without the circular motion, though still approximately the same size, a little more squarelike.

Mac was pretty sure he had a concussion of some kind, at least a mild one. His ribs were aching and he was about 90 percent sure he had sprained his ankle pretty badly. The only reason he wasn’t worse off was the soft ground in the bottom that was on the edge of being mud.

He didn’t move for what felt like hours, simply laying at the bottom, staring up from where he had ended up. Mind caught on to the many things that had happened in such a short time. How violently his happiness had been ripped from him, after he had just gotten it.

The shoulder that had been shot hurt; the pain had swimmed along his veins and muscles, making his fingers buzz mercilessly. It was like the mud was alive beneath him, whispering for him to try to move despite the pain, but it was too much, making him close his eyes. He felt so overwhelmed, felt so dizzy that he couldn’t keep them open, couldn’t keep his mind clear.

Eventually he fell asleep.

When he woke again, the sun wasn’t high on the sky anymore, the ground cold beneath him. He was still alone in the deep hole and Mac carefully sat up, a whimper of pain leaving him.

For how long would they leave him down here? He blinked, looking up, then around him. Escape was seemingly not an option. Even if he managed to crawl up the earthy walls with a sprained ankle and a hurt arm, he would be unable to continue over the smooth concrete walls. He was stuck, with nothing but his clothes and damp earth around him, chilling his bones. Carefully he crawled to one of the corners, pulling his leg up close, curled together despite the pain in his ribs. 

In a way, Mac hoped this was nothing but a nightmare. A scary, deeply realistic nightmare without any sand that was usually present. 

The screams for help were raw and miserable - despite not living right next to the deep where Angus currently was, his futile screams for help were loud enough for her to hear at home. Rose closed her eyes, laying in the bed next to Luna just… listening . She was supposed to sleep, it was getting late, but the man who she genuinely considered her friend was like a wounded animal in the bottom of the hole that Murdoc had named the deep. It had been a while since anyone had been in there and in a way, Rose had hoped that Angus would never have learned of it. Especially not in this way.

In a way, Rose knew why, understood why . To a certain degree. She wasn’t sure what had happened exactly, Murdoc hadn’t told them, but she knew that darkness had tried to take over Angus’ mind, making him try to leave.

Angus wasn’t allowed to leave. None of them were, not without permission. It would be against their god’s wishes.

His screams returned. She let out a whimper.

Luna's gentle hand was warm as it touched his shoulder and Rose looked at her girlfriend who was next to her in the bed. Her fingers ran along the freckles on Rose’s collarbones, then gently caressed her cheek. The motion was calming and Rose let out a little sigh.

Another scream.

“It’s for his own best,” Luna whispered to her. Rose could see her girlfriend’s eyes shining a little from the moonlight seeping into their bedroom, knowing full well that Luna knew what she was talking about.

“He needs to learn,” Luna added, “it’s important.”

“I know,” Rose whispered, “it’s just…”

“Painful to listen to?” 

Rose nodded and Luna moved over and kissed her bare shoulder.

“It’s for his own best,” Luna repeated, like a robot in a monotone voice. As if she had said it so many times that it had convinced herself. 

Luna had been down there too, in the deep. Rose had hated it too then, but Luna hadn’t screamed as much as Angus was currently doing. The memories of her lover down there in the deep, made her close her eyes. Luna had survived it, had come out stronger, having learned the truth properly. Not to question their god Murdoc and the knowledge he held. Angus could survive it too.

Each scream made her pray to Murdoc to let Angus survive it.

The rain soaked his clothes, making him sniffle down in the hole. The only light was the moon who was shining down at him, like a guard, making sure he was still down there. Like yet another camera, stalking him and looking at him. He had tried making some sort of shelter from a few roots and some of the mud, but the rain had pretty quickly washed it away. Like a punishment.

Mac had no idea when it was, when a figure suddenly appeared above him, the shadow in the hole alluding him to the other person’s presence. He looked up, the rain still there but not as intense as before.

Murdoc stood there, like a dark entity, merely watching him. Mac called out for him, begging for him to help him out.

Yet there was no answer. The other merely watched for a while, then he disappeared again, making Mac wonder if he was even there.

He was left alone again in the hole, mud and rain seeming into his body.

The hunger gnawed in his body, like small animals ripping in his stomach, trying to pull it apart the next day. His clothes almost refused to dry and he took the shirt and pants off as the sun reached down at the bottom though it wasn’t much.

Agony. Mac wondered for how long they would leave him here, was the meaning of it. His head hurt, his shoulder, arm and ankle too. The ankle was swollen, painful to even slightly move, so he tried his best not to. 

While the screams bothered Rose, Fern didn’t worry too much about them. In fact, the curly haired man was much more interested in seeing how it worked. How Angus would react and behave when they finally got him up again.

It wasn’t that he found it amusing, it was more that he felt like his mind didn’t quite connect any emotions to it. He would catch Angus again if ever realizing their god’s lover was running away, he would do whatever his god wanted.

Fern didn’t know when exactly they were going to do so, it wasn’t his place to decide or even know. He left that to Murdoc. He trusted Murdoc knew when was the right time. If only Angus would stop screaming so much, it annoyed him slightly. He could see Jay was even more uncomfortable with him being down there and the other man had even asked Fern for how long Angus was going to be down there. For as long as he needed Fern had answered, because that was the truth.

For however long time that was needed to get away whatever darkness it was that had taken over his mind.

Every scream confirmed that Angus needed to be there. Every one of them confirmed that Murdoc was right.

Angus needed to let go of the darkness.

The hours bled together and it started raining again, soaking him to the bones. Making the hole even colder, the mud even more watery and deep. He had sated his thirst with the rain water but he didn’t have any food. In a desperate attempt he had chewed at one of the roots, but it had been so bitter that he had given up pretty quickly again. He felt cold and hot at the same time, the clothes clinging to his body, barely green anymore from all the mud. A part of him was afraid the mud would swallow him, pull him down and drown him.

Every night he appeared, watching him for a couple of moments, ignoring his desperate screams.

Mac was dizzy and he was almost certain he had a fever. Barely able to stay awake, chest burning. Ankle still swollen. He began to cough deeply after the second sunrise, making his chest and stomach pound in agony. He still cried now and again, his body unable to stop. But his sobs were getting smaller and smaller.

He was sick, he knew that, but the walls around him felt as if they were moving. It was like the hole got deeper every time he blinked. Like Murdoc appeared down in it, standing just out of reach. Telling him how wrong he was. That he needed to see how Murdoc had done nothing wrong, because a god could do nothing wrong. Nothing. The one in the wrong was Mac.

He kept passing out and he was unsure whether or not he had missed a sunrise. The days made no sense. His voice hurt as he still called out now and again, begging for someone to help him, to save him. Yet nobody did, he was left alone with his mind in his deep prison.

He was surrounded by wet ash. The small animals around him seemed to emerge from the dark remains of his mind and crawl along the ground. The few times his eyes were open and he was able to, he watched the different kinds. Flies. Worms that appeared from the mud, gliding along it, before eventually disappearing again. Ants, bugs he was too tired to recognize.

As the hours went by, other things appeared. Once or twice he was convinced he saw a hand appear from the mud, clawing around it, before it disappeared down into it once more.

Nothing made sense in his feverridden mind. Distress and misery filled him, making him wonder if he would ever escape. Escape from the hunger, from the pain, the coughs and the darkness and mud that held him down, clutched him with its claws. Snarled at him with its teeth exposed. 

Who would save him now? Jack wouldn’t, Jack didn’t care. He had probably never cared.

As the hours passed, birds flew by together with the clouds, he heard the music and the laughter from the rest of Eden, their days returning to normal, as if he wasn’t there, Mac got convinced.

The only one who could save him was Murdoc.

He had promised to, had he not? To keep Mac safe from the world outside, from the misery that had eaten up his soul before he had come to Eden. And wasn’t that in a way not what Murdoc had done, stopping Mac from leaving, stopped him from hurting himself?

The pain in his head made him pass out again.

Murdoc was standing in front of him. Much larger than usual, his skin glowing as if it was touched by the sun, Mac barely able to look at him without squinting. Several long arms sprouting from his sides, as he bent over Mac, barely able to fit in the hole.

“How odd,” the giant god mused, the air from his breath making Mac’s skin warm, “I thought you were special.” 

Then, as suddenly as the deity had appeared it was gone again.

Mac closed his eyes; all he could taste was ash, all he could hear was the millions of organisms in the mud and earth around him, as he sat up against one of the walls. Every breath felt like a fight, a climb up a mountain that seemed to be forever growing.

He could barely move. Barely do anything but cough and breathe hard, listening and crying out now and again. But that was everything. The wilderness of his mind had taken over, giving him fever filled moments of memories that flashed by, memories that blended together and made no sense.

It was of Jack leaving him to bleed out, until the dark clad Murdoc appeared, saving him from death. Kissing him, calling him his sweet thing. Putting him together, sewing him up as if Mac had been a broken porcelain doll with a body of fabric. Murdoc repainted his face, touched up the places that had disappeared. 

He saw ravens circle above his body, screaming about the darkness that filled his body. He saw Murdoc, surrounded by golden light, just like when they had first had sex, a deity that Mac had had the blessing of being cared by.

Had he taken it for granted? The love that Murdoc had offered him, the care and safety?

He couldn’t feel the pain in his ankle as long as he didn’t move it in any way. He didn’t like to look at it. Afraid he would see strange hands touching it or realise how painful it was. The pain in his chest was enough.

Strange entities were in the hole, humanoid creatures made of plants and earth, watching him and reaching out to touch him.

Mac was so lost in it, so scared of what he knew couldn’t be real, yet they felt real to his sick and tired mind. The creatures wanted his eyes and tongue, since Mac wouldn’t need them down here anyways.

Mac felt like he could barely move, weakly screaming at them - and snapping out to bite them. The creatures, made of grass, clumps of earth, flowers and branches , always managed to move out of the way.

Eventually they sunk into the mud, their laughter disappearing with them.

Mac was convinced he was going to die in the hole. A part of him considered it deserved by now. Had Murdoc made the right choice, after offering him so much, taking care of Mac, making him his lover - and what had Mac done? Tried to run off. A part of him wanted to scream how wrong it was, how Murdoc had betrayed and manipulated him, made him cut off contact with the people that mattered to him - but it was like that part of him was slowly bleeding into the earth that surrounded him, seeping into it, only to disappear. 

The little rainwater was helping but every small sip still hurt in his empty stomach. Staying awake got harder as well. His stomach hurt, often threatening to make him throw up, despite nothing being in it. 

It was like even thinking became hard. Breathing became a chore. He had thrown up a couple of times, slime collecting in his throat. 

Mac wasn’t stupid, not even like this. If he wasn’t getting up from the hole soon, he wouldn’t survive. Not without food or medicine for the sickness he had picked up.

Every night, Murdoc came to look down at his little bird with his clipped wings, down in the bottom of the deep. Every night, his precious being would be there, in pain and pathetic, most times calling out for Murdoc at the edge.

So weak and desperate. The last two days however, he had begged for forgiveness. Getting worse and worse. In a way it was adorable, in another it gave a rush of excitement in Murdoc’s body. That meant he would be ready.

It had been five days and Murdoc decided that it was enough. Time to take up his sweet thing, to see if his mind had understood now. Understood that running away wasn’t an option.

Mac didn’t die out in the desert, despite thinking he would. Perhaps, he actually had died, as a part of him used to think before he found this… found Murdoc. Eden.

There was mud everywhere. He missed his comfort food. Missed the texture of things that weren’t wet or damp, missed his bed. 

Every time his teeth touched each other he could feel grains of earth in his mouth, he could taste all his mistakes.

Perhaps he had died in the desert. Or at least, a part of him had. Maybe it was the part that Jack cared about, the part of Mac that had cared about Mac. As he was in the mud, half slumbering against the hole’s wall, all he could think about was how he didn’t want to die again. But how was he going to survive this? Would Mac die and Angus survive?

It was a fitting place for Mac to die, wasn’t it? A cold, wet spot for his rotting body to continue its decaying. Alone, from humans and bombs. Worth nothing. Not anymore. Not without Murdoc.

___________________________

Mac woke to the sound of people talking above him. Like beings above him, humanoid voices where he couldn’t quite hear their words. He blinked, barely able to keep his eyes open. There was the end of a ladder down at the bottom now, just a few steps from him, making him open his mouth, but nothing but a whimper came out. Then a big man appeared, coming down from the top. Mac had seen him before, around Eden but he didn’t know his name. Mac let out a weak sound, but he couldn’t move. Too tired and cold, disgusting. Soaked in his own urine, his period had started since he hadn’t had his pills, barely able to breathe from the sickness that had appeared in his chest. 

The other man said nothing - merely hoisted Mac over his shoulder, ignoring the painful sound Mac let out. The sudden movement made him dizzy and he closed his eyes, barely able to do anything, than merely just hanging on. The rhythm of the other’s step as he was carried up from the hole reminded him of waves, bile rising in his mind. All he could think of was Murdoc. Would Murdoc abandon him after this? 

Confusion, fear and anger overwhelmed him for a second, causing the blonde to lean his head to the side and bite into the back of the person carrying him. Fabric was in the way. The stranger laughed, the moments of his chest as he did so, shaking Mac a little and making him let go of the skin and fabric.

“Better luck next time,” the stranger said, giving him a pat on the leg. Next time?

He was barely able to keep his eyes open, but he felt more hands on him as he reached the top of the hole. Mac felt the fresh air on his skin, making him breathe a little deeper as he then was laid flat on something that felt like a stretcher. The sun was kissing his skin as if to welcome him back to the surface.

“My sweet thing,” Murdoc cooed, standing above him with a gentle smile, even though it felt like he was far away from Mac. Appearing like the deity he was, to once again bless Mac with his love and attention. His hand with the golden rings ran along Mac’s cheek, brushing away the mud. Mac felt like he could only taste ash in his mouth, making him unable to speak, a small croak leaving him, but Murdoc just hushed him. Murdoc was there, touching him. Mac closed his eyes. Perhaps he could die happy now? Called sweet thing once more by his god?

Then something that felt like a needle pressed into his shoulder and he turned his head, seeing Crow bent over him with a smile, pushing something into his body. Mac didn’t know what it was, there was no explanation but so many people were looking at him, all smiling, baring their teeth. Mac let out a tired snarl, baring his own teeth. 

Crow pushed another needle into him and Mac closed his eyes. The stretcher was lifted.

At this point, Mac didn’t care, he was just relieved for how quickly he passed out, knowing he was saved by Murdoc once again.

Chapter Text

Mac wasn’t sure what was up or down - humanoid creatures above him. Did he know them? It took several seconds, multiple times of blinking before he managed to see who it was. Dr. Crow's gentle smile, Murdoc behind him with an almost proud look on his face. Safe. He was safe. There were warm fingers touching his skin, making him close his eyes for a second.4

“You’ve gotten yourself quite sick, Angus,” Crow said, taking a hold of his arm, tipping his hand down, so he could find a vein a little further up the arm, “but don’t worry, we’ll get that fixed.”

You’ve gotten yourself quite sick, Angus. Mac closed his eyes. It hadn’t been his own choice had it? He had screamed, cried, begged to be pulled from the deep where his mind had been deteriorating, where the darkness had cuddled him close. He wanted to argue, wanted to scream, but he was so happy he was up from the hole, happy he was in a warm bed. The nice fabrics touching his skin, kissing along his limbs with their warmth. A whimper left him, distracting him from the thoughts. He looked down, watching the drop that Crow had just put in. What was he being given? He didn’t know. If it made everything hurt less, well, then Mac wouldn’t complain. He trusted… Dr Crow to a certain point he supposed.

“Silly bird,” Murdoc cooed, having stepped to the other side without Mac realizing, his hand lovingly touching Mac’s cheek. “Don’t worry. I got you now, you’re safe darlin’. No more stupid tantrums, right?” 

Mac blinked, mind catching up a little slowly, then shook his head. No . No more tantrums. Yet, he couldn’t help himself, the hand shortly reminding him of the hands in the hole that wanted to steal his eyes. He moved his head to bite Murdoc’s hand, not really knowing why, but he just knew that he had to - but it was too slow, merely making his deity, his god, laugh. 

“Bad boy,” he laughed, almost as if it was amusing, “don’t worry sweetheart. No more reason to be scared.”

He doesn’t know what was happening, pain making reality and illusion feel like the same thing. There was something on his leg, painful like needles.

It made him twitch and he cried out, wanting to move his leg, to be free of it; but hands held onto him, like in the hole, keeping his leg secure.

“He is waking up,” a voice said, “I can’t work if he struggles.”

Who struggled? Mac tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt too heavy, as if it wasn’t a possibility. Like the eyelids had been glued together, like somebody had sown them together with thread and needle. Fearful and in confusion, he opened his mind, gasping for air.

“Relax,” another voice said, this one more familiar than the other, though Mac’s mind couldn’t quite put a name or a face to it, “he isn’t lucid.”

The pain returned to his ankle, the one that hadn’t been hurt in the fall and Mac snapped his teeth together, fearful that another hand from the hole would try to steal the eyes he couldn’t open.

“Aw, sweet darling,” a voice that Mac immediately recognised said, “such a biter. Go back to sleep, Angus.”

It was like light in the darkness, knowing Murdoc was there, he was there to protect Mac from the darkness. Mac let out a deep sigh of relief. Then he let the confusion pull him down into unconsciousness once more.

It felt like ants were crawling on his hip, making him breathe a little sharper. They were biting him, crawling into his skin to eat him up from the inside out, to make sure he wouldn’t be able to survive this.

“He is waking up.” A familiar voice stated. Just like last time. It wasn’t his god this time and it took a couple of seconds before a memory of dark curly brown hair flashed before his eyelids, of long talks along the river and careful hugs, laughter… friendship. Pain as he tackled him to the ground.

“Good. I’ll put something on the wound and then give him some painkillers so he can’t feel it.”

“… and you’re sure his body won’t reject it?”

“Why Fern?” The other voice asked, “worried about Murdoc’s little plaything?”

A huff was heard and Mac was pulled into his thoughts, thinking of being pulled into the sand, drowning in it and the burning heat of it, only to be pulled deeper into the ground, muddy hands appearing to pull him into the wet depths. Maybe this would finally kill him, maybe he would disappear into nothing… but wouldn’t Murdoc stop it, help him and pull him to the surface once more? Kiss and love him, make sure nothing would ever hurt him anymore. The hole had been for his own sake, hadn’t it?

Even though every breath hurt now, there were odd sensations all over his body, inside it too.

Mac wondered how he would ever open his eyes again. There was something in his nose, going down into his throat too. He wanted to pull it out, but even breathing was painful right now, his arms felt heavy and why was there something happening on his hip? It felt like his body was an entire mess and he didn’t even understand what was going on.

“- ing happened with the other one, so it’s fine. If not, we’ll just try again.” 

Perhaps the way to make sure Murdoc would always love him, was to be hurt? Needy, hurt and broken? So that Murdoc could always encourage him to be a better human, work on his little sweet thing . What were Fern and the other person doing anyways? 

Was it sand or mud that filled his lungs right now? Was everything hurting, even his gunshot scar or was he just imagining that?

He let out a groan and a laughter that he recognised as belonging to Crow was heard. 

“Don’t worry, Angus, I’ll get you some drugs,” there was a soft couple of pats on his chest, making him open and close his mouth again, “we’ll make you feel all nice again, won’t we?”

“You love me, don’t you, Angus?”

Mac couldn’t see anything, even though his eyes were open, something over his eyes, keeping him blinded. He moved his head to the side, trying to find Murdoc, opening his mouth, panting out of it a little.

Laughter.

“Say it, Angus.”

Mac didn’t understand what his god wanted. Of course he loved him, there was no question of that. How could he ever love someone else who wasn't Murdoc? Who wasn't a deity that had decided to bless Mac’s life with his presence?

A couple of garbled word-like sounds were heard. Was he the one speaking? Mac wasn’t sure. His longs burned and he coughed, trying to touch his lips, but he couldn’t move his arms - there was something around each of his wrists, making him whimper and twist a little.

“Good job, Angus,” his god cooed and the words made him still again, “I know it’s hard darling, but you’re doing so well. I know you love me. I am your god.”

Mac opened his mouth, breathing deeply. He felt disoriented, like he was spinning around. A hand touched his cheek and he felt the fear of getting his eyes stolen once again, making him snap at it with his teeth.

Laughter. Had he tried to bite Murdoc.

“You’re so dangerous,” Murdoc mused, “we can’t have that. You want to be a good boy, don’t you?”

Mac whined. A good boy? He would be a good boy for Murdoc, he would be the best boy for him, as long as his god wouldn’t banish him to the deep once more. Mac wanted to scream, wanted to declare his ever growing love for Murdoc, how it would never waver again - but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, it felt wrong.

“Don’t worry, Angus,” his god said, a pair of cool lips kissing his forehead, “I know how to help you."

He could see the next time he woke , able to take in the room around him. He didn’t quite recognise it. It was sterile, white lights that hummed too loudly shining into his eyes and making him close them once more. The little clothes he wore felt wrong on his skin, alien and scratchy, making him want to throw up. It was a hospital gown, his mind supplied after several seconds and Mac tried opening his mouth to breathe through it - only to realize he couldn’t fully do so.

There was something on his face, like a mask on his jaw, that curled up along his nose. He breathed again, feeling how most of the air hit his own skin again. A mask of some sort. 

After a couple of attempts he opened his eyes again, looking down at his body. It doubled, then tripled right before his eyes, as if he had several of them. All of his hands were cuffed to the bed railing, making him blink in confusion. 

It was like everything in the room was sparkling for a moment.

Where was Murdoc? Would he have to stay alone now?

A loud beat quickened, making him lean back at the slightly raised bed again. It was a beeping sound that went straight into his brain, like needles being repeatedly pushed into him. He looked down at his body, eyes falling on one of his legs; it was the one that he had hurt when he had fallen, like an angel with broken wings, having called from heaven. It was in a cast, which he couldn’t feel. In fact he couldn’t feel most of his body.

It made him whimper in fear.

He was alone in the room, not able to move properly. Pain was his only guest, keeping him company as the many sounds pierced into his mind, making him close his eyes again. 

He was stuck in an overwhelming hell, with so many sensations against his mind and body that it made him want to throw up, but with a mask and something in his nose, he doubted it was a good idea. 

“Murdoc,” he whispered, hoping that his savior was near. The blankets, despite the sensations, kept him warm, but he felt cold, helpless. His throat hurt but he tried again, a little louder this time.

“Murdoc?”

He could feel his eyes tearing up. He felt alone, just like he had in the deep, except this time he was warm and dry. Like a directly opposite kind of hell, still alone. Wouldn’t this loneliness be his fall once more, break his mind to the point where he would lose himself?

“Murdoc!” It was even louder than before, making him cough violently again, the machines’ loud beeping sounds getting faster and a whimper left him as he tried to get enough air through the holes in the mask.

They were eating when Murdoc got the notification of Angus’ pulse rising and he had pulled the phone from his pocket, looking at the room through one of his cameras.

There he was, his sweet thing. Confused and disoriented, like a little puppy just after a visit at the vet, still high on drugs. In a way, keeping him like this was fun. He was so out of it, most of the time. 

The pneumonia had made them force a breathing tube down his throat, so that he could breathe better for the first three days. Then they removed it, so that he could do it himself. He was so pathetic, bound to the bed and with a see through muzzle on, like a dog having misbehaved one too many times. He had tried to bite several people however.

Oh, how he had considered forcing his cock into that mouth several times, despite the tendency to bite that it had gotten. Something he had picked up in the hole, while high on fever and wet to the bone. It was quite amusing really. Like a terrified dog, unsure of how to react.

He slid one of his Bluetooth earbuds into his ear to hear what his Angus was saying and oh how adorable he was. Calling out for Murdoc like a wanton whore, even though there was nothing sexual about this. Hoping for his god to come and save him, from the darkness, even in the white room. So cute .

The two trackers they had put into him worked perfectly too. Murdoc had considered doing just one, but figured adding another one would be a good idea. Just to be safe. He couldn’t let his little lover get lost after all, that would be a big shame. Not to mention, the tattoo on the opposite ankle of his hurt one, oh what a marvelous idea that had been. His name on his Angus’ skin, to make sure that no matter what, everyone would know who he belonged to.

“ Murdoc .”

Him calling out like this was like music to his ears. He supposed he should be a true savior and appear to his little lover, see how he was doing.

All of Angus’ little friends wanted to see him too, but they all knew not to ask, not to push. It was adorable how they all cared for him, how they all wanted him to be good again, after taking part in throwing him into the hole. After the many days of ignoring his screaming and pleas for help, fully aware he was down there, hurt and wet, each day making him sicker and sicker. It was such a power rush to know that he was the only one with the power to decide that. It made him miss killing, if he was being honest. Made him miss taking jobs to run around and take people's lives in so many different ways, just because he could. Just like a god would. Alas, he couldn’t leave his precious Angus alone, not now.

Dr. Crow said it would take a little while before he would get better from the pneumonia and Murdoc didn’t mind that one bit. There was something wonderful about Angus like this too, so helpless. He was already looking forward to fuck him like this, his sweet thing barely able to move or breathe: he would just have to take it, take whatever Murdoc could get him. Watch him come on Murdoc’s cock, watch him moan and twist, unable to get away. Muzzled and defenseless, only Murdoc’s to play with.

Murdoc left dinner a little early.

It had been a while since he had had this much fun and Crow was so happy this had all happened. No matter how annoyed Murdoc had been when his little toy figured out about the stalking and watching, it had been such fun to get to see him after having dropped him into the deep. Knowing his ankle was broken, that he would get sick down there - which offered Crow an opportunity to really play with Angus. Not just with the non consensual drugging here and again, but with proper tools.

He had been so sick and broken and Crow had taken so much pleasure in keeping him just conscious enough that he would feel certain things, feel some of the pain, feel when he was being cut in. Just to mess with his mind, just to see how Angus would react. He had truly gotten sick down in that deep hole, much to his own benefit as well. It offered the long talked about opportunity to operate a tracker into the younger man, even two. Fern had made them and checked them and Crow had enjoyed cutting Angus up, to push the small pieces inside him. As if he was a vet, chipping an animal.

Even better, one of the trackers was pushed into Mac’s healing scar from the shotgun wound, ensuring he would have more pain from it for months to come. This offered them a way to keep him broken and in need of help, an ability to make him dependent on the drugs Crow could offer him. Besides it made Murdoc happy too and he watched the other man almost getting feral at the sight of Angus in so much pain. There was a reason they got along so well.

If he had been allowed, he would probably have messed around with that beautiful specimen of a man himself, fucked him over any surface. Alas, he was not his to touch and Crow wasn’t stupid. He knew not to touch what belonged to Murdoc, unless one had a death wish.

He was pleased with cutting him up and hurting him anyway. Seeing what was beneath the skin of that broken man, listening to his deep coughing and watching him in his feverish sleep, clearly in pain.

Mac didn’t like the clear plastic muzzle they had put him on; despite the drugs in his system, he was clear about that. 

His leg in the cast made moving too much of a struggle, not to mention the many wires and drops connected to his body. Murdoc was the only one that could really calm him down without the drugs, because so much of what was happening didn’t make any sense. Mac couldn’t trust his own mind. But he could trust Murdoc. So much he had learned from everything that had happened, from the visions down in the hole, from the horrors that had tried to take him.

Mac let out a pitiful sound as Murdoc ran his fingers along hair, enjoying even such a simple touch that distracted him from the chaos he felt inside. 

“It’s for your own safety,” Murdoc explained, tapping on the foggy plastic muzzle with a nail, “ours too. Can’t have you bite anyone like a feral beast, can I, Angus?”

“No,” he whispered, bottom lip wobbling behind the clear plastic, quickly blinking so he wouldn’t miss seeing Murdoc too much, “but I - I won’t bite anyone.”

“Your mind is blinded,” Murdoc reminded him, “you can’t control it. It’s darkness in your mouth, making it tell lies and try to bite others who only wish to help you.”

He wanted to argue but he had been told of several times where he had tried to bite someone. He remembered some of the times too, how he had been convinced that it was somebody out to steal his eyes. 

“I know,” Mac whimpered, “but I miss you.”

Murdoc smiled lovingly at him, proudly even, leaning forward to gently kiss Mac on the muzzle.

“Don’t worry sweet thing,” Murdoc said, then kissing his forehead, “the moment you’re feeling better, we’ll get you moved.”

The first proper shower, that hadn’t been a member who was also a nurse who just washed him in the bed, had felt like running a marathon. But Mac felt so much better afterwards, despite the tiredness growing in his bones, despite the broken ankle that meant he could barely walk, despite the soreness of his ribs.

Dr. Crow came to him afterwards, when he was back in the newly cleaned bed and gave him something to ease the pain. Or so he said. 

It made Mac feel high in a way he couldn’t describe, like his bones were suddenly not as heavy, as if the room weren’t just white with touches of green. No, it was better.

The last couple of days there had been delivered so many bouquets of flowers, that Mac could barely keep up with them, with who had given him what. All well wishes, words about how happy they were that he was getting better, how worried they all had been.

The love all made him wonder why he had tried to run, why he would have tried to escape the care from the commune, the safety that Eden offered. The love and safety that Murdoc offered him.

How was he supposed to ever live a life outside of Eden?

Murdoc had appeared about half an hour later, while Mac was still on the thrills of whatever he had been given, looking as if he was an eternal, glowing being. Mac had reached for him, proclaimed his love for his god.

How was Murdoc supposed to resist the temptation? With a weak and high being, declaring his love, saying just what Murdoc wanted to hear. Newly washed and taken care of, like a little toy, waiting to be played with?

Crow had told him not to do anything for a while, but it wasn’t Murdoc’s fault that Angus was practically begging him, with his blown up pupils and desperate pleas for love. Repeatedly trying to touch Murdoc, as if not quite realizing he was still cuffed to the bed, the chains not quite letting him. His darling had him around his finger, even though he was unaware about it.

Pushing the duvet to the side, dropping his own dark gowns to the floor to join his lover in the hospital bed in the commune’s small health clinic. Surrounded by white colors, green flowers and plants, that only made the redness on Angus’ skin stand out even more, like a beautiful piece of art waiting for Murdoc to devour and hurt him.

Angus whimpered so sweetly when Murdoc licked his pretty boy cunt, the cries like music in his ears, only his for now; later he would go to his room in his house, rewatch the video, but for now, he was merely enjoying it.  A part of him wanted to take Angus apart literally; he would make so little trouble without hands or with a badly broken leg that somehow never healed quite right — wouldn’t that have been a shame? Taking him apart with a knife, carve in his name to make sure his lover would always know his god’s name, despite the tattoo already on his ankle.

After making him come once, Murdoc pushed his leg apart, careful of the casted one. Kissing along his lover’s neck, who moaned wantonly and called out his name, barely able to focus with his eyes. Pushing into him was such a reward after so many days without him, Murdoc once again reminded of his lust for Angus, why this was all worth it.

His little slaughter lamb snapping with his teeth now and again, unaware he was even doing so, unaware of so many things. It was so wonderful. 

His beauty calling out Murdoc’s name as he came, tipped Murdoc over the edge too, making him more feral for just a couple of seconds. With strong fingers digging into the hips, snarling inhuman sounds leaving him, the hospital bed rustling as he fucked Angus hard.

Murdoc pushed his hair back while he breathed hard, watching his lover beneath him; well fucked and high, a bite mark on his collarbone to remind him who he belonged to. 

As he pulled out, getting himself together, he already looked forward to the next time. He cleaned his sweet thing up, letting him hold his hand for a moment as Angus murmured about having seen the light in Murdoc.

“I am the light,” Murdoc reminded his plaything, “what am I if not your god? I’m your savior, Angus, the only thing that can save you from the darkness, from the world around us. Everything I do is right. Never question me, my pet, you know that now, don’t you?”

“I do,” the blonde promised, clearly not fully there, “I do, Murdoc.”

It was hard to explain what was happening, but the only thing that really mattered was that Murdoc was there. They were talking about him, rather indiscreetly, since they stood right in front of his bed.

“- move him or is that too soon?”

Mac wondered for a moment what he would have to do to get the muzzle off. No more biting, Murdoc had said. For your own good . Murdoc’s words were like flames in the dark, undying and warm, keeping him safe. Murdoc’s voice was like the stars that had been his only friend during the hours in the hole, it was like golden apples being offered, to give him eternal life.

“Perhaps, but his breathing still sounds uneven and this-” there was a tap on the cast on his leg, Crows words not really being understood by his mind, “- fever - and this needs to be elevated too.”

Were they even really there? They were talking as if he wasn’t, but Mac could see Murdoc, see his recognisable face just a few steps away. So close to his god, yet still so far.

Mac whimpered out loud, neither men reacting to him, continuing to talk. Mention of pills, bathroom visits, showers. Hospital beds being moved and eyes on him, about being careful, about a tattoo healing properly and Mac just huffed.

“M’doc” he managed, his god finally turning towards him.

“Sweet thing,” he cooed and Mac tried to reach for him, the cuff stopping him. He felt like he was floating, the drugs keeping his body afloat, but rather that than drowning in sand or mud. “We can’t have you stay here, can we?”

“T’ke me with you,” Mac managed, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, the muzzle foggy from his breath, “pl’se Murdoc. Don’t leav’ me.”

His laughter felt like ancient rumblings from a place above, like a sound to prove the existence of his divinity and Mac snapped with his teeth, Murdoc’s hand moving to clap his cheek, hidden beneath the muzzle. The rings on his fingers clacked against the plastic and Mac wanted the muzzle off so badly, wanted to touch Murdoc’s lips with his own.

“Why don’t my sweet thing go to sleep?”

Mac shook his head and an amused sound left Murdoc at the denial of his command. He still smiled, before looking over at Crow. Mac tried to reach for Murdoc again, but the dark haired god stepped away, making Mac cry out.

“Don’t worry, Angus, I’ll help you along,” Crow offered in his everso sweet and happy voice, picking something up from a table and messing around with it. Mac watched the syringe and though he didn’t felt fully aware of what exactly was going on, he knew he didn’t want that needle’s contents inside of him.

“Noo,” he whimpered, eyes flickering to Murdoc, whose hand ran along his duvet, then it moved up to gently scratch him beneath the chin, just at the spot next to the muzzle.

“It’s okay, sweet thing,” Murdoc said, “Dr. Crow is just helping you behave. You want to behave, don’t you? Be a good boy for your god?”

“Don’t l’ave me,” he asked again, “Murdoc, I’ll be good.” 

His eyes flickered to Crow, who was already pushing the liquid into the drop.

“I’ll be there when you wake,” he said and Mac whimpered, trying to twist free of the cuffs, feeling his eyes begin to tear up.

It didn’t take long before things became more blurry and focusing became even harder than before. Then he blinked once, twice but at the third time he couldn’t open his eyes again.

“I’ll keep him sedated for another day,” Crows voice became more and more distant, “we’ll get everything ready in your hou—”

Darkness wasn’t a relief at this point, but at the very least, it saved him from the thoughts of his mind.

It took him a few moments to realize that he wasn’t in the same room as before. He was still in a hospital bed, still surrounded by flowers and well wishes cards, but the room was different. The lights were not the same as the other room, they sounded differently, and were almost softer.

He could taste toothpaste in his mouth, which meant someone had brushed his teeth while he was out. It made him swallow a bit of spit, uncomfortableness setting in his stomach for a few seconds. He knew he had been out a while though he wasn’t sure for how long exactly. He supposed being taken care of, even when unconscious, was a good thing.

He sat still for a while, before he began to rock a little, unable to settle down again. He wasn’t fully lucid, but he could feel the pain in his leg and other places in his body. His hands were still cuffed to the bed, keeping him from getting off and being able to walk around. A sad sound left him but he continued to rock back and forth for a while, eyes flickering around now and again, until it hit him. He was in the room at Murdoc’s house, that Murdoc had said was his now.

A wave of relief surged through his body, one he couldn’t quite explain; but somehow staying here, rather than staying at the little health clinic at Eden, felt more comfortable. It proved that Murdoc still cared for him. He coughed deeply a couple of times.

His shoulder hurt in a way that felt different than usual, but due to the hospital gown, Mac couldn’t see it. He could feel it though, there was something odd in it - like something had been pushed into it, a similar feeling at his hip. He tried to touch the gun scar but he couldn’t, despite leaning close to that side. His shoulder hurt, making him wonder what had happened when he was out.

The door opened so suddenly that Mac flinched, eyes instantly going to it, his eyes meeting Murdoc’s.

“Angus, darling, you’re awake! How wonderful,” the other man said, walking into the room.

“Murdoc,” he managed, voice not that loud, “can I get the cuffs off? Please?”

Murdoc smiled, gently booping his nose on top of the plastic muzzle. He seemed to be in a good mood, which Mac hoped meant that he could get out to move more.

“Well, are you going to misbehave when they’re off?”

“No,” Mac promised, voice whispering now, “I’ll behave.”

“Mhmm,” Murdoc ran his finger along the muzzle, eyes flickering over Mac’s upper body, his tongue slowly licking his bottom lip, “see, the problem is that you also promised not to bite anyone. Yet here you are, with a muzzle on. We can’t have you take that off.”

Mac whimpered, wanting to cry at the words. He was tired of not getting anything to physically eat, being fed through his nasogastric tube that had a hole specially made for it in the muzzle.

“I miss you,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes, “I miss the others. I miss Eden. I’m sorry I mi-misbehaved, Murdoc, I want to be yours, only yours.”

Murdoc smiled at him lovingly, a smile that sent a thrill through his body. 

“The others are missing you too, sweet boy,” Murdoc confirmed, making a hopeful sound leaving Mac’s chest, “and I miss my lover. But you’re still sick, aren’t you sweet thing? Sick from the darkness.”

His hands gently framed Mac’s face, hands resting on the sides of the muzzle.

“But you also need to learn,” Murdoc pointed out, leaning a little closer, voice going a little darker, as if he was getting ready to attack, “have you learnt from all of this?”

“I have, I promise,” Mac hurried to say, wanting to touch the other man so badly, “Murdoc - I love you. You’re my god, I can’t live without you! I need you.”

“Yes,” Murdoc cooed in a praising tone, “that’s right, Angus, you need me. Your mind needs me, your body does.”

Mac nodded desperately and Murdoc smiled.

Chapter Text

He was finally let out from the bed the next day, freed from the nasogastric tube and the many drops that had made sure he wasn’t dehydrated or in… too much pain. 

The pneumonia was still stuck in his chest, making random spikes of fevers appear. It made everything change from being too hot and then too cold, his mind barely able to follow along.

The bath was nice however, even though he had to sit down during it, the warm water was nice, as he washed his own hair. There was a certain feeling of freedom in being able to wash his own hair. It had also been during this bath however, that he realized he had a tattoo on the ankle. One that he most certainly hadn’t had before going down the hole.

“Murdoc?”

His voice was careful and not that loud, as he laid on the couch in Murdoc’s living room, covered in blankets, having sipped some tea. Perhaps it was the painkillers in his blood that made him a little braver, enough to ask at least.

“Mhmm?” Murdoc answered, not looking up from his book, yet Mac tried nonetheless.

“I’ve gotten a tattoo,” it was more of a statement than an actual question, because there was no question whether or not he had one; it was right on his ankle. He tried his best not to sound upset. He wasn’t really sure how else to bring up the sudden ink on his skin, that he had no clear memory of getting.

Murdoc finally looked up from his book, over at him, a soft smile on his face. “So you have.”

“… when?”

Murdoc shrugged, as if that wasn’t important, but he closed the book, laying it down on the table.

Then he moved to the couch, gently pulling the blankets of Mac and exposing his body to Murdoc. He was wearing one of Murdoc’s T-shirts and a pair of boxers, a blush on his face as Murdoc spread and between his legs, careful with the casted one.

“Does my name on your skin upset you?” He asked, voice lovingly, not seeming mad at all. Murdoc gently took a hold of his leg, sliding his hand down to the ankle, where the tattoo indeed was.

Murdoc .

His fingers ran over the letters, making Mac shudder.

“No,” he whispered, “I just don’t remember getting it.”

“Caught you by surprise, did it?” Murdoc asked in a teasing tone, leaning down to kiss the name, “my name looks pretty on you.”

Mac nodded.

“You begged for it, you know?”

“I did?” He asked, not remembering doing so.

Murdoc let out a confirming sound, then moving to touch the hem of Mac’s boxers, “repeatedly asked for it. You wouldn’t settle. My sweet darling Angus.”

Mac let out a small whimper but helped move so Murdoc could easily take off the boxers. Was it not an honor to be touched like this? Whether or not he remembered getting the tattoo, Murdoc was still here, baring Mac. He felt himself grow wet, now exposed, as the fabric that hid him before was thrown to the ground.

“Sweet Angus,” Murdoc cooed, sliding his hand over the leg that wasn’t in a cast - gently pulled it up, kissing the ankle with the tattoo, dark eyes still looking at Mac’s face, “all mine.”

“All yours,” Mac agreed with a whisper, an almost feral smile appearing on Murdoc’s face.

“Yes,” Murdoc agreed, before pushing the leg more to the side, fingers running up Mac’s thigh, making him shiver and twist a little, the tips of the fingers tickling, “the lover of a god,” he mused, leaning down to kiss Mac’s neck shortly, then his broken shoulder, “mine to use.”

For a short moment Mac was pulled back into the moments where it had felt like he wasn’t awake or asleep; he remembered hands touching him, blades opening his skin with careful moves. He remembered pain and voices saying he was waking up. He remembered pain at the ankle with the tattoo, hands holding him down, hands around his ankle. He remembered the scent of Murdoc just like now, the urge to bite . Protect himself, even though he didn’t quite know, from what he needed protecting.

He snapped his teeth together without realizing it, making Murdoc chuckle darkly above him and oh, Mac hadn’t been paying attention.

Murdoc pushed into him, the head of his member pressing into him; the hard cock filled him up, making him gasp and hide his face in Murdoc’s neck. His god’s moan made him shudder, his mouth right next to Mac’s ear.

His body felt so cold and so hot at the same time, the fever running gently through his body, as a background track to the pleasure; it made him sigh, tipping his head back a little, his breathing sounding wet. Murdoc’s lips pressed against his neck, gently scraping his teeth along it then.

“Everything will be better now,” Murdoc promised in a low voice, a pleased sound then leaving him as he pulled out of Mac’s front hole, letting out a lewd groan, fingers sinking deeper into Mac’s thighs, pressing them even further apart, “you’re back with me now, my prince, nothing will harm you again” he promised.

In a way it was almost what Mac had wanted to hear. He was so tired, so very tired, his legs burning from being so far apart. He managed to move his hands, hold onto Murdoc’s back and shoulder in a weak grip. The hard cock thrusted into him a steady rhythm, making Mac moan ever so faintly, the movement feeling like euphoria washing through his body, yet it was so hard, so hard to keep up with. His breathing faster and weaker, wet at each desperate drag. He snapped his teeth again, though his head was tipped back, so it essentially did nothing. Yet it made Murdoc groan with pleasure, his god’s teeth sinking into his jaw for a short second.

“Do I need - ah - to get the muzzle, Angus?” Murdoc cooed into his ear then, fingers moving to grap his hips and tip his lower body upwards a little, so Murdoc could continue to fuck into it.

“No, ngh no,” Mac promised in between his breathy moans, “I’ll be good, fuck, Murdoc, please!”

Murdoc snarled, almost in an angry tone, fucking him even harder, making Mac let out small high pitched moans at each thrust.

“Come for me,” he demanded, no place for discussion, but Mac felt dizzy, unable to answer except a few whimpers. His hip hurt, so did his shoulder and he didn’t know why , but he could see it had been touched and cut into while he had been unconscious and sick earlier. Two quick fingers sharply tugged on his nipple, making him whimper and twist - then Murdoc sank his teeth into his neck too, making Mac snap again and again and then and then and then-

Release. He barely recognized his own voice, too busy gasping for air while being used as if he was a doll by Murdoc, who kept fucking into him, deeper and faster. His god came with a deep groan.

Jack: hi Bozer - have you heard anything from Mac recently?

Bozer: I haven’t no- he hasn’t picked up any calls recently. But I managed to get through to a lady called Rose, I found a number on the website. Can I call?

Jack: sure, gimme two seconds.

“You found her number through the website?” Jack asked, sounding both curious and worried at the same time. It sounded so simple when he said it like that and honestly, Bozer himself hadn’t thought it would work. Bozer knew Mac meant a lot to the other man, almost as much as he meant to Bozer himself. Perhaps just in a different way, but that was besides the point, he supposed.

“Yeah, they have a number that you can call in case you wanna join them for one of their public dinners - spooky ass sounding, I know.”

“Doesn’t sound like something I would want to join either,” Jack mumbled.

“Anyways, she didn’t seem too fond to talk about Mac and she kept calling him Angus - which you know Mac hates-”

“Hates a lot,” Jack agreed.

“She sounded weirdly happy too. I threatened to call a wellness check before she finally admitted that Mac hadn’t been picking up because he had gotten pneumonia.”

“ Pneumonia?” Jack’s voice turned a little darker, confusion and worry seeping into it too, “did she say how? Did he go to the hospital?”

“Nope, apparently they have a doctor on site or so she said- besides, if he had gone to the hospital I would have been contacted, I’m his emergency contact.”

“This place sounds more and more crazy,” Jack pointed out from the other end of the line. Bozer scratched his cheek, leaning back in the chair, not really sure what else to say than just agree.

“Yup,” Bozer agreed, slowly scrolling on the laptop in front of him, watching the website, going through some of the pictures, looking for one of Mac, “anyways, she said he was already doing better. So I asked her to make Mac call me as soon as possible.”

“I’ll be home soon,” Jack repeated, almost as if to calm himself.

“Yeah,” Bozer said, “you haven’t heard anything from him since that one time?”

“No, nothing. He doesn’t even read my messages.”

“Mine neither, brother.”

The silence grew between them for a couple of seconds; both frustrated and desperate to get their friend back, both physically but also mentally. It was like a part of Bozer was missing, he didn’t know how else to describe it. It was all such an odd situation, especially since Mac had sounded happy every time he had written to him. 

“I’m going to visit them,” Bozer then declared, almost catching himself by surprise of the sudden statement.

“What?”

“Well, I’m going to visit them. I want to see him.”

“Do you think that's a good idea?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, a little more hesistantly, “but if he is getting better, then a visit won’t be a big deal.”

“Sure just…” quiet. Bozer knew that Jack was considering how to express worry about the ranch people, but Bozer was trying to convince himself that there was nothing to fear. Some hippies in a community? He could go visit those, no problem. “-just be careful.”

“Sure Jack - listen man, I’ll call you once I get out of there, okay?”

“Okay, thank you Bozer.”

“Murdoc?” 

Murdoc took his eyes off Angus for a moment, to look over at Rose, who stood, looking like a nervous child who had gotten into trouble. She was one of those that Murdoc trusted enough to be in charge of PR and such - which so far had gone well. 

“Mhmm?” He merely answered, before looking back at Angus, the blonde walking a little awkwardly in the ankle brace, carefully using the pair of crutches that made his arms wobble. Several of his friends around him, Dr. Crow was also watching, helping Angus adjust the crutches a little.

His little pet was finally out in the sun again, enjoying the warm weather which was good, because he had begun to lose some of that golden shine that Murdoc liked. Besides, seeing the others had cheered the other man up - as if it hadn’t been the same people hunting him down and dragging him to the hole. The same people who had ignored his screams and pleads for help, had done nothing to help him up. Now they were laughing, Fern and Jay happily talking and telling jokes, Angus’ pale neck with the many bite marks exposed as he tipped his head back to laugh. It was so idyllic. 

“Uhm,” the redhead still hadn’t told him what was up and Murdoc’s eyes flickered back to look at her. Keeping his annoyance pushed down, he smiled ever so slightly at her. Gentleness was the way to go with people like her, it made them trust him naively, like lamb following the sweet words of the butcher.

“Yes, Rose?”

“Angus’ friend, Wilt Bozer, called again.”

“Did he threaten us with another wellness check?” Murdoc asked. It wasn’t as if the group hadn’t gotten several of those along the years, none ever showing anything wrong.

“Yeah and - he wants to visit.”

“Visit?” Murdoc fully looked over at her, giving her his full attention, raising an eyebrow, “Doesn’t he live far away from here?”

Rose nodded, “He said he is coming Wednesday.”

It was Monday. Of course that little bastard still wanted to cause Murdoc trouble - it was as if he couldn’t accept that Angus wasn’t his anymore. He belonged to Eden, to Murdoc.

Murdoc looked at Angus as he followed the others towards the main hall. Lunch was soon. His pet’s first lunch with the others ever since his little ‘accident’. But he was doing better. He still coughed and got tired easily, still felt overwhelmed now and again… but he was definitely doing better.

“Very well,” he finally said, “Angus isn’t as sick anymore. Tell him that he is welcome.”

“Okay,” Rose agreed hesitantly, “I’m sorry, Murdoc. I know you don’t want people like him around.” 

Murdoc merely shook his head, before making a motion towards the main hall.

“None of that - now, let's go eat. Then we need to get a plan of what needs to be ready for a visit.”

Angus had been ecstatic as he was told Bozer was coming to visit him. It was cute really, because if Murdoc got his way, this would be the last time Angus ever got to see his childhood friend. Then they would cut off the contact properly, make sure Angus wouldn’t have to go around and worry about people like him. He just needed to focus on Eden. On Murdoc. 

Yet, Murdoc entertained his sweet pet. One of the Eden members gave him a haircut, so that it was short and neat again, after having grown out a bit while he was sick and while Murdoc and Crow had kept him docile. Now he was unmuzzled and ready to be shown off, Murdoc supposed. 

… Within the framework that Murdoc offered, of course. He was a god after all.

Mac was down at the parking area of Eden, sitting on a big stone, crutches next to him, sipping some water offered by Rose. Her and Fern had assisted on walking down with him to wait, also to make sure Mac didn’t dehydrate or anything on the way.

“I don’t even need the crutches fully anymore,” he pointed out to the redhead who scrunched her nose, making Mac roll his eyes, “you’re like an over worried mother.”

“Well, if you over use it, it will only take longer to heal,” Rose pointed out, reaching out to ruffle his hair a little, “so let me mother you.”

Mac felt himself blush, looking away. 

“I’m older than you.” He argued, looking down the pebble road. It wouldn’t be long before Bozer would come and Mac felt like he was on fire with excitement.

“Ignore her, Angus,” Fern pointed out, giving him a gentle nudge at the good shoulder, “she just missed you while you were sick.”

He didn’t get to answer, a small excited sound leaving him as he heard a car drive down the road. He got up, Rose making a coughing sound before he could walk, making him roll his eyes before taking one of the crutches. 

“Mac!” 

He barely realized it was the wrong name that Bozer called out after parking, hurrying to meet Mac halfways, enveloping him in a hug.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Bozer whispered into his shoulder, making Mac frown a little, though he still couldn’t stop smiling from the happiness of his childhood friend finally being there. 

"Why?" he asked as they pulled away, “I’m fine -” Bozer looked up and down at him, and Mac winced, “well, almost fine! I’ve just been clumsy.”

“Clumsy?” 

“Yup - Bozer, come, I want you to meet my new friends, then I can show you around.”

Eden was a… weird place. It certainly didn’t help that Bozer went in there with a strong bias, sure, but it wasn’t like he could keep himself completely objective with everything that had been going on.

Everything just… seemed too good to be true. It was a happy, little community or so it seemed, that worked with different things that Bozer knew Mac cared about. They all wore green, and as if that wasn’t creepy enough, they all had nature names too and everyone seemed super nice. The food he was given was even good. 

The worst thing?

Mac seemed genuinely… happy.

Which was good in so many ways, because Bozer knew Mac had struggled. Clearly, from the way he had been cut off, from the way he had spoken when they finally did speak after the tour. But there were so many ‘coincidences’ too. How had Mac broken his ankle? oh he had been clumsy and fallen off a horse. How had he gotten pneumonia? been stupid and been out in the weather for too long.

Besides, the biggest red flag of the entire place, didn’t even wear red. Instead ‘Murdoc’ wore black and was dressed like he was a vampire that was into the robes everyone wore in Star Wars - and Bozer was pretty sure Murdoc wouldn’t be a jedi. 

Mac, or Angus as he insisted Bozer called him, looked at Murdoc as if he had created the world and helped a couple of puppies from drowning. 

Bozer had never seen Mac look like somebody like he was looking at Murdoc, almost as if hypnotized by every word that left the dark-haired man’s mouth. The mere peck on the lips that they shared, made Mac smile and blush like when he was a teenager. Mac had mentioned how he had met Murdoc all accidentally and how it was just like it was meant to be - and who was Bozer to say that Murdoc gave him the vibes of a murderer?

They talked all the time that Bozer was there, Mac answering a lot of questions and despite some of them being vague, he seemed honest about it. But it was like his eyes were a little dull, as if something had been turned off inside of him. A light or a spark, that made Mac Mac. The man wearing the green clothes and with a happy tone telling him about his everyday life at the commune, leaving out explanations about why he never replied to messages or picked up their calls. He didn’t want to talk a lot about Afghanistan or Jack, said he had moved on. That he was a new person now, that he felt much better, that there were more light in his life, all thanks to Eden. Though the eery words and the whole odd atmosphere made Bozer uncomfortable, he stayed for Mac's sake. Stayed for his company, for some sort of explanation of what was going on.

“Wanna go on a vacation soon?” Bozer asked as he sipped the juice from their own apples - because of course it was - “we can visit my parents. They miss you too.”

Mac looked a little uncomfortable, twisting ever so gently on the bench, licking his lip before answering, “I don’t know - I. Not right now, I want to feel better before I do anything. I like being here. It feels safe.” 

Bozer had accepted it, despite not being too happy about it. But Mac had been coughing now and again, and he supposed it would make more sense to wait until his ankle was more healed.

“Sure, friend. Just let me know when, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Mac looks exhausted when they’ve eaten, presumably from walking around all day and Bozer couldn’t judge him for that. Even though he wanted the day to continue, he could see on the other that it wasn't possible.

“I can follow you to the car,” Mac insisted, but Bozer had just hugged his childhood friend while shaking his head gently as a reply. He wanted so badly to tell Mac to come with him, to leave the place, just for a couple of days, but he knew it wouldn't be taken well.

“Nah, man, it’s right down there, I can just walk down there, don’t worry. You’re clearly tired, brother. Get to bed.”

“Okay,” Mac finally agreed, tightening the grip around Bozer’s middle just a little more, his fingers holding onto the fabric, “It was nice to see you.”

“It was nice to see you too,” Bozer answered, pulling back a little, smiling at his blonde friend, “I’ll come back soon okay? or you can come visit.”

“Sure,” Mac agreed, a soft smile on his tired face, “Bye Bozer.”

“Bye, love you brother!”

“Love you too.”

Everything in Bozer’s body was screaming to take Mac with him. To not leave him behind or it would be the last time he saw him. But the mere reaction to when Bozer had suggested leaving the commune, even for a short vacation, had told him that Mac wasn’t fond of the idea of even leaving the property. Or someone had convinced him so. It was like there had been a shadow following them all day and as Bozer walked down towards the car, towards the darkness, he couldn’t help but feel as if he had been watched the whole time. Mac had seemed oblivious to it and Bozer was no spy, but still.

Bozer pulled the car keys from his pocket as he went around the car to enter - just to let out a startled sound at the sight of Murdoc and a couple of other people a little further away. 

“shit, hah, you scared me,” Bozer managed, his pulse rising at the sight of the pale, dark haired man with the discreet eyeliner and many golden jewelry. The only one not wearing green in this entire place. Mac’s “boyfriend”.

“Wilt,” Murdoc just replied, voice seemingly creepier than it had been before… colder, less kind in a way, which almost made Bozer shutter.

“You know,” Murdoc said casually, as if he hadn’t been waiting on Bozer in the dark, “Angus is finally happy here. Free of all his pain. If you’re really his friend, you should accept that.”

“... what do you mean?”

Murdoc let out a huff, then a small smile appeared on his face.

“We both know what I mean, Wilt. Stop bothering him, stop bothering us. You will only make Angus upset.” 

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds and Bozer couldn’t help but feel as if he was standing opposite some sort of monster, wearing human flesh. 

“Have a safe trip home,” Murdoc finally said with a smile, before turning around, leaving together with the green wearing men that had stood behind them.

Bozer stared at them for a moment, before hurrying to get inside his car. He needed to call Jack.

Chapter Text

Bozer was half an hour away before he dared to pull to the side and call Jack. With a hurried voice, he explained what had happened throughout the day. Eyes constantly checking the back mirror to make sure nobody had been following him.

“I commented that it wasn’t like Midsommar, the movie you know, at one point,” Bozer said, looking at the mirror to check that nobody had followed him, “and he had said ‘no, of course not because we aren’t a cult’, but Jack…”

“It felt like that.”

Bozer let out a breathy “yeah.” Because it did. Bozer might not be an expert, but something was off about the whole place. About Mac too.

It was hard to explain how he had seemed. How did one explain that he seemed so much happier but also much more broken? As if something had changed so deeply inside of him. In a way it has truly felt like midsommar, except he didn’t stay for long enough to end up dead.

“I don’t know if I believe in the whole ‘I fell’-part as well,” Bozer said in honesty, “he was very vague about it, said he fell over an edge. But you don’t just fall over something and then break your ankle.”

“If it looks like a dog and barks like a dog,” Jack muttered, “then it’s probably a dog.”

“What?”

“I’m saying - with what you told about Eden and about Mac’s… ‘boyfriend’, well it just screams cult.”

“Yeah,” Bozer agreed, hearing the pain in Jack’s voice as he said boyfriend . It hadn’t been easy to accept for Bozer either. Especially not after having been vaguely threatened just before he left.

Bozer licked his lips for a moment, running a hand over his face. He felt helpless, unsure of exactly what to do, because Mac didn’t want to leave.

“It sounds like a cult.”

“It felt like a cult,” Bozer said, “it… they weren’t scary, they weren’t angry or aggressive but… Something happened there, Jack. Something bad . I really doubt Mac got pneumonia from staying outside a tad too long in bad weather - I. Something changed in him, Jack. It was like the lights were on but nobody was home. And this Murdoc guy? Gives me the creeps. It’s like he got everyone around his finger.”

“What a good boy,” Murdoc cooed, making Mac’s tired legs feel like they were going to collapse and he let out a small whimper, unable to help himself. Those simple words were enough, easily breaking down Mac’s mind. Murdoc was gently running his hand over his hair, as if his fingers were praising Mac silently too.

He had been a good boy for Murdoc. Having Bozer visit had been nice and as he looked up at Murdoc, he sincerely hoped that his god would let his childhood friend visit once more.

“Your god is pleased,” Murdoc whispered into his ear and it was like the part of him called Angus instantly returned. Like a light switch being turned on, instantly lighting up his mind without any sign of a flicker.

Angus let out a pleased sigh, leaning against Murdoc, making his god chuckle. 

“Tired, my darling?”

He nodded, earning a few more scratches in his hair. It was like his tone soothed his mind, letting Murdoc’s touch consume his body.

“I can barely keep myself up,” he admitted in an exhausted tone, gaze flickering up to watch the god whom he had the honor to serve, “my lungs hurt and my ankle is burning.”

“Sweet thing,” Murdoc’s coo was dark, husky and his touch was gentle. “Let’s get you some tea.”

Murdoc looked at Angus, falling asleep after drinking most of the spiked tea, curling up on the couch. 

The painkillers and sleeping meds worked like a charm. He had to tell that to Crow, who was probably going to be delighted like the dark man he was.

Murdoc picked up his little bird; he was still fragile but stronger than before, at least in his mind. The deep had been beautiful to his mind and Murdoc had considered whether he should have thrown him in there earlier. But alas, the attempt to leave, the direct disobedience of Murdoc’s word as if he had eaten the forbidden fruit, had been a perfect opportunity. Leaving Murdoc simply wasn’t an option.

He put Angus at the end of his bed, undressed him gently before his bird curled together with a sigh. Where he belonged, like a good pet.

“Everything seems to be getting better. But you should still be careful.” Dr. Crow’s words curled around Angus’ ankle that was finally free.

Angus knew he should still use crutches, but the ankle didn’t hurt as much as it used to. He knew it was better - he wasn’t a doctor and Murdoc had reminded him of it, when he had pointed out to his god that he was doing better. Murdoc had kissed his forehead, said that he was a lover, not a healer. A fixer at best.

Yet, Angus wasn’t mad at him for not believing him. Murdoc knew best - it was the easiest way to see things, he supposed, because Murdoc was always right.

Besides, he looked forward to being free of the boot for good. Not being able to feel it when Murdoc pushed his legs over his shoulder, knowing it wouldn’t dig into his precious god’s skin. Even though the idea of marking Murdoc ignited a fire inside his abdomen, he would rather have it be from his mouth or fingers. Murdoc’s tongue always licked over the spot he was going to mark on Angus’ skin, like a warning; rarely did he ever just bite. It was as if-

“You put on weight.”

The comment ripped him from his thoughts. Angus blinked himself back into the doctor’s office, blinking at Crow who was leaning against his desk. For a moment he felt like a predator had attacked his organs, ripping them out mercilessly, snarling and howling, blood dripping from the fangs. Hungry for insecurities and weaknesses.

Dr. Crow smiled.

“It’s a good thing. Everything is getting better.” He said then, moving to Angus again, gently tapping his pen against Angus’ exposed knee.

“You’re putting on both muscles and fat. It’s good. You’ve begun to eat better in general since before the commune.”

“Yeah,” Angus agreed, the worry disappearing again from his stomach, “I guess.”

“You’re in general doing much better,” Crow continued, “joining Eden has been good for you.”

Before Eden, Angus - or well, at that time he had been Mac - just ate the bare minimum to keep going. He was doing better now, he knew that but so much was so different. He had different problems now, didn’t he? He was at once thrusted into his old mindset of Mac. 

The taste of ash on his tongue, making every kind of food feel wrong, making any substance a struggle to swallow. His decaying body which he had allowed to rot, hoping it would finally consume him, the ever present thought of how the shot should have killed him. How it shouldn’t have hurt his arm, but simply and mercifully hit his head. It should have taken him out, freed him of the prison that his body had become. It would have prevented the fungus growing up in between the sand in his mind, it would have – 

A snap ripped him from the old mindset, pulling him back into his present body, pulling him back into the mindset of Angus. He blinked confused, eyes focusing back on Dr. Crow’s face, a blurry face that finally appeared sharper after a couple of seconds, smiling gently at him.

“Lost you there for a second, didn’t I?” 

Angus smiled carefully, nodding while he felt a blush appear on his face, ashamed that he had been pulled into the mindset he shouldn’t have gone into.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Have you taken your meds today?”

Angus nodded dutifully and Dr. Crow stepped away, writing something down on his notes for a second, not looking up from him as he cocntinued, “Do you need something for today? To help you calm down?”

Angus shook his head, “No, no I’m fine, thank you. Just thankful everything is better now.”

Crow smiled at him.

“Coming to Eden has been a good choice, yes? Being protected like a god, realizing your true potential?”

Angus smiled, nodding. For just a second however, he was thrown into a flashback. Of darkness, of mud covering him as he desperately tried crawling up from the deep, how he had screamed himself hoarse. How he had been pulled up, only to enter a deeper darkness, one where he was constantly held on the edge of unconsciousness. Dr. Crows voice. His hands sliding over his body, checking his pulse, touching his ankle. Helping to hold him down.

“You’ve gotten yourself quite sick, Angus,” 

“Relax, he isn’t lucid.”

“He will be changed after this, Murdoc, don’t worry. Just keep speaking to him, I’ve not knocked him completely out yet.”

“Don’t fuck him too hard, though. I’m not sure how his body will react yet. Don’t kiss him, we can’t have you getting sick too.”

“Yeah,” Angus agreed, “I’m glad I was saved.”

Dr. Crow smiled, almost lovingly - as if he was proud of Angus.

“Now off you go,” Dr Crow said after helping the boot on his ankle again, “I know Jay is on a business trip, but Rose, Fern and Luna have a surprise for you. I think they couldn’t wait.”

“A surprise?” Angus said, brows furrowing.

“Yes, well, I can't specify it more, can I? Then it won’t be a surprise.” Dr. Crow said with a chuckle, “Don’t worry, it's a good one.”

Dr. Crow watched Angus Macgyver move towards the house he had told him to go to - watching the man using the crutches. Technically, if Murdoc wanted the ankle to fully heal, they should wait with the ritual. But, he had agreed with Murdoc for it to take place tonight. The weather was supposed to be nice. Besides, he wanted to see it too.

Crow pulled out his phone from his pocket, before looking away. Fern picked up on the first ring.

“Yes?”

“He is on his way.” He said, knowing full well that Fern was aware of who they were talking about. Crow walked to one of his cupboards, opening it and looking at the animal mask. His was a crow, an obvious choice as he had been offered a couple of different kinds.

Fern hummed in agreement. “Good, we’ll get him ready for tonight.”

“Good - Use the drugged food after the bath,” Crow said, picking up the mask, “He didn’t want any drugs from me. And don’t let him walk himself tonight after taking the boot off..”

“Alright, we have a horse ready, don’t worry,” Fern said and Crow could hear the smile in his voice, “We’ll make him ready for Murdoc, don’t worry.”

“Good boy, Fern,” Crow answered, hearing Luna and Rose chattering in the background, “I’ll see you all tonight.”

“See you.”

Angus moved towards the house next to the barns. He had been there a couple of times before, but he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to be doing there with the others. The three of them, usually accompanied by Jay, were usually up to all kinds of things.

“Spa day?” Angus raised an eyebrow at Luna and Rose who both looked too excited, “Why?”

“It’s a surprise!” Rose said giddily, almost jumping in place, “But Murdoc will love it, don’t worry!”

Angus felt himself blush slightly. “Oh.” So it was related to his body in that sense too. The idea of the others taking care of him felt a little intense however. But they had helped him before the other rituals too. 

“I suppose I’m not allowed to know what this whole thing is about too?”

“Nope,” Fern said with a grin. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing scary.”

“Alright,” Angus said, Rose letting out a happy thrill-like sound.

“It will be fun!”

Chapter Text

Angus wasn’t quite sure what the meaning of all of this was. They had helped take care of him all day and as time went on he felt more confused. He had gotten the little facial hair he had shaved off, his hair cut nicely again, Rose even plucked a few hairs off his eyebrows. Angus had drawn the line of them shaving his pubic hair, making Luna and Rose giggle, Fern rolling his eyes but not arguing against it. He had done that himself in the bath they had prepared for him, filled with nice scents and flower petals. It was all… a lot. Sure, he felt oddly relaxed, but it also felt odd to have his friends take care of him like this, Fern even offering him grapes. 

They helped him shave his legs and armpits though they left his happy trail alone, making Angus blush hard as Luna had said that Murdoc had told to let it stay. Whatever it was that they had planned and Angus had a growing suspicion it was some kind of ritual, Murdoc was surely going to take him apart sexually afterwards. Which Angus had to admit he looked forward to quite a lot.

They ate after the long and quite intense bath, nice fruits and vegetables, fresh meat and such. It was all quite nice, drinking a bit of wine too.

As they began to dress him up in nice green clothes however, Angus began to feel a little odd. His skin began to feel hotter, his breaths too.

“Uhm, Luna?” He carefully spoke while Luna put some mascara on his lashes, swallowing hard before continuing, “I feel… weird.”

“Excited?” Luna said, gently laughing and Angus smiled, even though he was pretty sure it wasn’t from that. He was sweating, ever so gently and it took him embarrassingly long to realize what it was, while the others dressed him up all nicely. Putting on the crown that Murdoc had given him too, finishing the look.

He was horny.

Very horny.

It was like he could barely breathe without wanting Murdoc to touch him, to fill him up and Murdoc wasn’t even here . 

It was oddly easy to drug Angus through the wine. Despite everything, he was still so naive, so easy to hurt. Rose felt a little bad for doing it, but she knew it was for a good reason. It wasn’t just for fun. Murdoc would be happy. Rose like when Murdoc was happy. It was needed for the ceremony, it was necessary. She had an inkling that Murdoc might give him something else too, just to get his mind going a little more.

It was needed for the cleansing. For the ritual. For Eden, for the world.

Was a little suffering not worth it, if it would save the entire world, Murdoc sometimes said. Sometimes Fern repeated it too.

It didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad for being a part of it. The way Angus was sweating, clearly feeling odd as he was helped up on the back of the horse. The horse was dressed up as well, flowers braided into the hair, small bells too, exposing their soon arrival to the others up in the forest. 

Rose had the bag with their masks. She had a red fox mask, Luna had a white fox one so they matched a little, while Fern had a wolf mask. They didn’t put them on just yet, but they felt heavy as she carried them, mostly filled with the shame from what they were going to put her friend through. But it had to be done. It was necessary. 

They took off his ankle boot, despite Angus’ protests, pointing out that he wouldn’t be using it anyways. Which really only added to his confusion.

Dressed in nice green clothes, light shades of green, flowing and thin fabrics in different layers that felt nice against his newly shaved skin, he had to agree that he looked pretty. Silver linings and details on the fabrics, small pearls. The barbed wire crown he had received from Murdoc added on his head too.

“Isn’t this a bit… much?” He had asked, to which his three different friends had gone out on a sideline. Talking about how he was worth it, how they knew what Murdoc wanted. How the fabrics should be used anyways. 

Truthfully he would have enjoyed the fabrics and the beauty of them more, hadn’t he felt so odd. His skin felt hotter and hotter, his mind getting more and more focused on thoughts of how he wanted Murdoc to touch him. How he wanted to come so badly, that thinking about anything else was a struggle. How he wanted Murdoc to kiss him, grind against him. Right now he would make do with any kind of friction from his god. He hoped whatever they had planned didn’t take too long.

They had even prepared a bloody horse for him to sit on. He squinted at the big horse as Fern helped him to it, making sure he didn’t lean too much on his bad ankle.

“Am I getting married?” Angus asked, not caring how suspicious his voice sounded. As he sat up, he closed his eyes. Even the feeling of sitting down on the horse, made his pussy throb, such little friction making him swallow. Something was wrong.

Fern laughed.

“No, not quite,” his friend answered, though Angus wasn’t quite sure he believed him and his eyes flickered to Luna and Rose who were just looking at each other smiling. 

“Don’t worry, Angus,” Fern softly added and gave the horse he sat on a pat, “Now, let’s get going, yeah?”

The sun was beginning to set in not too long. Whatever they were going to do, Angus hoped it wouldn’t take too long. The sun kept his skin warm, as if it wasn’t hot enough already. The movement of the horse made him close his eyes with shame, feeling his pussy getting wetter with the thought of Murdoc waiting for him. He wasn’t even wearing any underwear, his friends fully refusing to give it to him.

They didn’t stop in the main hall as Angus had expected. The longer they continued, the more nervous the blonde man got, especially as they steered towards the forest with the lake, where Murdoc and him sometimes went. 

It took him a couple of minutes before he realized another thing that made his mind uncomfortable; the lack of people. There was nobody else, anywhere close, no matter where he looked, almost as if Eden had been fully abandoned. As if all the members had been shunned, pulled out of their everyday routines, forced to leave everything behind. The gentle wind was tickling the grass, the shadows gently hugging the different buildings. There was only the sound of themselves, the sound of the bells on the horse, gently ringing with each movement.

Angus didn’t feel good - or well, he did. Too good, perhaps. It was like his desire for sex, for Murdoc, had been amped up with a thousand, making his body scream for his god.

They were getting closer and closer to the forest and Angus was pretty sure he saw a figure disappear further into it. So that was where everyone was.

“G-guys – I don’t feel so good,” he admitted, but the friends didn’t stop, pulling the horse along, towards the forest, where the sun shone in between every tree.  It was like embers were being dragged along his skin and Angus took a couple of deep breaths. He felt as if he had tried this before, tried the way his body would suddenly scream its need for Murdoc, but never quite as suddenly as did.

There was no answer, but they stopped and for a moment, Angus thought they had taken him seriously enough to not brush it off this time. He was pretty sure he could hear drums coming from the forest, like a hypnotizing pounding. Then Fern was given some sort of mask by Rose however and Angus looked down, watching his curly haired friend put on the mask. Angus blinked at the sight, confusion filling his mind for a moment. He wasn’t sure if it was paper-mache or clay, but whatever it was, it looked creepy.

“I - why are you-“ 

Fern raised his finger up in front of the wolf mask he had put on, wordlessly telling Mac not to speak. Like some sort of demon-like creature, the black wolf mask completely hiding his face. He looked over his shoulder, Rose and Luna having put on matching fox masks in different colors. 

“What the f-” 

Both women held their fingers in front of their fox masks, mirroring Fern’s movement. Angus swallowed hard. Was he still awake or was he having some sort of fever dream? Everything made less and less sense and he was pretty sure he had never heard the masks mentioned before - or seen them before. But his skin was still burning, embers pulled along it and he was distracted as Fern once again pulled on the reins of the horse, making it walk again.

The forest was filled with the banging of the drums and as he got nearer, he saw more and more people, standing around the lake where he and Murdoc had swam; where they had kissed, Angus in his lap. The thoughts made a rush of excitement run through his body and Angus was afraid he would expose how turned on he was once he got off the horse. If his own juices had sept through the fabric, leaving a dark patch.

Different animal masks turned to look at him, the closer he got to the little dent in the forest, where their lake laid. They stood all around it, spreading like the sea for him and the horse. A sea of green, of animal heads and eyes watching him, like a bizarre mixture of dreams and reality. The entire commune was there, there were torches too, even though the sun was still there, lending them light enough to see. 

Hands touched both the horse and his clothes as he passed by and Angus felt the confusion overwhelm him for a moment. 

He heard vague whispers of words. Beautiful. Lover. Godly. So pretty. Angus. Perfect. 

Murdoc appeared at the end of the little dent, just in front of the three steps to the shore of the lake. His was the only face not to be hidden, just like Angus’ own. He wore his dark clothes, standing out like a dark shadow amongst the green sea, wearing golden jewelry that sparkled ever so lightly in the sun. His gaze was dark but loving at the same time and he helped Angus down from the horse as it stopped in front of him.

“My darling,” Murdoc gently cooed as Angus was on the ground, feeling the leaves and ground beneath his bare feet. Even the sight of Murdoc, the sound of his words, made Angus want to scream with pleasure. It made him want to beg his god to take him away from there, pull him somewhere discreet to take him apart.

“Murdoc, I don't feel so-”

Murdoc hushed him gently, his smile almost mischievous as he gently took Angus’ hand.

“Stay quiet, sweet thing,” Murdoc cooed, voice low and husky and Angus’ eyes flickered around for a moment as Murdoc helped him down the three steps to the shore of the lake.

Every animal mask was faced their way, human eyes barely visible, all standing on the small slope close to the lake. Having a view of him and Murdoc. His eyes flickered to the little shore, the tiny bridge that could lead one into deeper water with a couple of steps.

There had been placed a sort of table in front of the lake too, almost like an altar. Covered in green table cloth, an animal skull or two, in between the many different fruits; the fruits were  looking ripe and juicy, ready to be eaten, hadn’t Angus been feeling weird and been too busy being stuck in an odd nightmare-like situation.

There were a couple of torches closer to them, lighting up the lake, a few big candles even. 

Murdoc pulled him into the water, not too fast since Angus couldn’t walk that fast currently, every step reminding him of the pain in his ankle. Though, the mere touch of Murdoc’s hand on his was enough to distract him. Like a demon of lust, he led Angus into the water and Angus was happy to follow him.

The bottom of the lake was soft beneath his bare feet, a small whimper leaving him as the cold water began to lick up his legs. This, this, he supposed he could understand to a certain degree. Had they brought him out here, all dressed up, just to be reborn ? Why not the river again? He wasn’t sure he understood why this was different.

It was like he was back in an earlier memory, but with things changed. Now he knew his name, he knew his purpose. 

Murdoc still looked as if he was a mythical being, leading Angus into the deeper water, both of their outfits getting soaked. His skin was pale, even in the warm summer sun that painted everything around them, that made the shadows from the trees dark brown. Murdoc stopped, water about to his stomach and a smile on his face. A mythical creature, a god of the earth Angus stood on.

He pulled Angus closer and made him turn around, his back shortly pressed against his god’s chest. Lips pressed to the back of his head and then he felt the barbed wire crown be taken from his head, the eerie rhythm of the drums the only thing Angus felt like he could hear. 

“ Sweet thing, so beautiful, ” was whispered into his ear, Murdoc’s breath on his ear making him shudder - or was it the water kissing all of his exposed skin? 

“- be reborn.”

That was the only warning he got, before a well known hand sunk into his hair and pushed him down. He went willingly this time too, remembering his first rebirth, knowing what would happen this time. Even though he didn’t have heavy clothes on him the first time.

Cold water soothed his burning skin, like a million gentle kisses but it wasn’t from Murdoc, not like he wanted. It didn’t stop the lust from rushing throughout his bloodstream. It wasn’t like when he had feared being swallowed by the sand. No, it was Mac who feared the sand. Angus feared Murdoc abandoning him.

The moment he was submerged, he heard Murdoc begin to speak - but he couldn’t hear it, couldn’t make out the words spoken loudly. It was as if the lake refused to let him hear the words, Murdoc merely pushing him a little harder down on his knees. His knees pressed against the soft bottom of the lake, the stones licking at his skin with their sharp edges, only protected by the fabric, but Angus barely noticed.

Waiting.

Trying to keep calm.

Focusing on the feeling of Murdoc’s hand tightening in his hair, reminding him he is there, yet at the same time, keeping him beneath the surface of the water.

Not allowed to go back to the life of the living. Reborn into something, somewhere, where he can live without the darkness in his life. Somewhere without the sand in his chest and lungs, replaced by the water that was cooling his burning skin. 

Yet it still felt like his body was on fire with lust.

Drowning in lust.

Drowning in water.

This time Angus didn’t claw at Murdoc’s hand as quickly as the first time, he didn’t get scared as quickly as Mac had done. But eventually he couldn’t help himself, his nails scraping against the skin of his god, twisting beneath him in the water. Like a nymph, his hands appeared from the water, clad in green clothes, tugging and scratching, Panic sept in together with the lake water, drowning him in the fear of death. Would he not be allowed to return to the surface this time? Would Murdoc have decided that he wasn’t worth it, abandon him just like everyone else had?

Did he truly need to be reborn after what happened? He had felt reborn when taken from the depth of the hole, when pulled from the insides of mother earth, covered in her mud and loved once again by his master, his god.

Despite the water of the lake he opened his eyes, the water bordering on murky and his desperate movement in the mud on the bottom is not helping. The mud reminds him of the hole.

The hole reminded him of death, of what a blessing it had been for him to be reborn in Eden. Would Murdoc take it away from him? 

At last, just a moment before he was sure he would die, the water filling his mouth and nose, Murdoc pulled him from despair. As if to remind Angus that he could sacrifice him any moment, but Murdoc wouldn’t, he didn’t. He wouldn’t abandon him in the darkness, like everyone else had. He was better, he wasn’t a mere human like the people who had claimed to love Angus, love Mac, no, Murdoc was above that. He was a god without comparison and Angus felt blessed, having once again been giving a rebirth.

Noise broke through the forest as people screamed, the masked members screaming and yelling in delight, while Angus coughed violently. Then, lips pressed against his own. Making him whimper, open up without hesitation even as his lungs begged for more air.

Murdoc cooed wordlessly at him, a thrilling sound that made Angus’ mind scream along with the members.

Despite the water, he felt as if his body was afire and as he was allowed water, he felt himself cry desperately; he cried for Murdoc, he cried from the fear of the horror of almost drowning.

He was helped up from the water, Murdoc praising him. Reborn again, for his beautiful god, fully forgiven now for his sins, for the darkness he has been tempted by. Now he was reborn and the beautiful, proper lover again.

“ - and everybody will know now,” Murdoc said, helping Angus to the shore, his words barely registering in Angus’ mind, blindly being led by his god, “we will show everyone.”

His beautiful bird was soaked to the bone and Murdoc put his silver crown back on his head, lust running through his own body at the sight of the mess he was. Nothing but the absolute beauty of a mess, still smelling nice as Murdoc leant forward to kiss his forehead. They had prepared and washed him like he had requested then.

The noise was clearly overwhelming his bird, eyes wide as they skirted around from mask to mask; but they were dark too, blown to the max by the lust, barely a ring of blue visible.

“Murdoc,” he whimpered, such a needy sound, clearly not in the right headspace. But he needed just an extra push and Murdoc knew how to give his Angus that.

He pulled him, helping him up from the water, towards the altar he had made some of his followers get down here earlier. It was just as requested and he pushed Angus against the edge of it. In between the fruits of sin on the table, a cup of red liquid. At first glance one might think it was water with red juice in it or perhaps red wine. But it was something as simple as blood. 

His blood.

Angus was whimpering about being overwhelmed by lust, saying he was feeling weird and that Murdoc needed to help him, but it was barely audible over the screaming and singing from their animal mask clad members. As if they were truly in a fucked up version of Eden, the animals watching Murdoc taking and ruining the innocence of Angus.

Like a lamb begging to be sacrificed, to have its throat slit, to have its life ripped from it. Begging for Murdoc, for his touch, mouth, sex.

He picked up the golden cup with the liquid, Angus squirming against him, begging for them to leave, so that Murdoc could take care of him - Murdoc merely raised the cup to Angus’ lips, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Drink and I will help you, sweet thing,” Murdoc promised. His pretty darling had barely finished coughing up the water as Murdoc forced some of the blood into his mouth. The LSD in it would take around 20 minutes to kick in, but Murdoc didn’t mind that - his Angus was already a mess to be fully enjoyed.

They were all staring at him, the many animal masks turned towards them. Wolves, foxes, cats and hounds, mice, lambs, pigs and mice. There were owl masks, bears and rabbits.

All staring at him as Murdoc forced blood into his mouth. Angus whimpered, the taste metallic and wrong, making him try to tip his face away but Murdoc’s fingers gripped his chin, forcing the golden cup with the forbidden liquid in his mouth.

Like an unholy grail in his already overwhelmed body, he coughed between a breath, some of the blood disappearing into his throat, some escaping his mouth and gliding down from the edges of his mouth. Escaping his mouth and coloring his lips that had turned slightly blue from the cold. Despite his struggles, Murdoc forced the blood into his mouth, cooing lovingly at him.

The animals were stomping at the ground, making the forest shake with their movements as Murdoc pulled at his clothes, just like Angus had wanted but - but not here, not now. He let out a whimper, embarrassed as Murdoc didn’t stop shamelessly pulling at his clothes.

Angus tried his best to stop him, but Murdoc wouldn’t listen. He knew best.

Angus knew that Murdoc knew best, yet as more and more of his body was exposed to the noisy members of the commune looked on. These were the same people he ate with, danced with, worked with; were they truly going to see him naked, naked like this?

A whimper left him as Murdoc pushed him backwards, the fruits on the altar falling down, only some lucky ones still on there as Angus was forced to lay down on it. 

“Murdoc,” every letter tasted like blood as he spoke them, his tongue burning with the begging for Murdoc to stop, to continue, to do something . There was something wrong with his body, as if the darkness was fighting inside of him.

His upper body exposed, his chest breathing fast, as he tried holding onto the loose pants, his surgical scars feeling like they were glowing as Murdoc leant down to lick along them, still tugging at Angus’ pants. His body felt as if it was on fire despite the lake water from the earth that had led him to become reborn. Like a phoenix that wouldn’t burn fully, wouldn’t become ash no matter how hard it tried.

Angus knew that Murdoc would see how turned on he was the moment he pulled down the pants - he probably already knew. Knew from the sounds that left Angus’ chest, the way his body exposed itself, betraying Angus.

Then the soaked green fabric slipped from his cold, yet burning fingers that were slowly licked by the evening sun rays. 

Murdoc’s godly fingers pulled down his pants, leaving his bottom half naked in the matter of seconds and Angus felt a blush overwhelm his nerves as he tried pulling together his knees, trying to hide his cock and front hole - but Murdoc was having none of it, easily pushing his legs apart, his cooing sounds just audible above the singing.

At once it was like he was back.

The hands were holding him down as he struggled in their grips. He needed to get away, he had followed the snake, had bit the forbidden fruit; he had seen the screens, seen how he had been under surveillance for who knew how long.

He had sobbed and screamed as the hands held him down, pushing him into the ground, the grass, Fern’s harsh voice telling him to shut up. Pain, betrayal, confusion. Everyone had been against him, had abandoned him in the dark hole and -

Murdoc’s hands upon his burning skin felt like kisses from a god — because it was. Oh, how he had longed for them ever since he had begun to feel odd earlier, while his friends had helped him get ready, their hands -

Hands were holding him down, but Angus couldn’t open his eyes, stuck in a never ending limbo of hands on him, pressing him into the bed. Knives cutting him open, pushing things into his hip - the feeling of the tattoo gun on his ankle that wasn’t broken, branding him, binding him to his god.

Murdoc’s teeth brought him back into the present as they sunk into his neck, making him whimper.

“There you are,” his god cooed, “sweet thing, are you seeing the light, hm?” 

He kissed down his chest, to his navel and along his happy trail. For a moment it was like they were alone, as if half humans-half animals weren’t watching them, screaming and celebrating for reasons Angus didn’t understand.

Then Murdoc’s mouth licked him, moaning into his wet cunt, making Angus toes curl, whimpering in pain as he absentmindedly bent the bad ankle. His arm hurt too he noted, but then Murdoc’s tongue ran along his clit again and he was gone.

—-

Rose had taken some LSD together with Luna and as Murdoc went down on Angus, the drugs started to kick in. The two foxes slowly disappearing into their dreamlike minds as they watched how their beautiful god was about to fuck his lover.

Murdoc’s mouth was sinful as it ate him out, finally giving Angus the relief he had been aching for, for what seemed like forever by now; but times blended together in an odd mess and while Murdoc sated his lust, it was as if there was something else entering his mind.

Crawling in from the back of his skull, slowly seeping into the rest of his mind.

Angus sunk his fingers into Murdoc’s hair and his god allowed it, eating Angus as if his life depended on it. Shame was beginning to leave him as his moans got louder and louder, unable to hold himself back any longer. Murdoc moved his legs and Angus let him, unable to fight him. Oh how he moaned as his nose rubbed against his clit, Murdoc eating him out with growling sounds. It didn’t take long before the first orgasm escaped him - but Murdoc didn’t let go, merely tightened his grip on Angus’ thigh and hip, despite the pulling on his hair, he kept at it. Overwhelmed and oversensitive, Angus came once more, barely noticing the screaming and yelling around him anymore.

The cock pressed into him, stretching his hole with a familiar burn and Angus let his head tilt back on the altar as the pleasure ripped through him, the cock pushing into his wet heat. He kept his eyes closed, a couple of tears still falling down. Everything felt better but weirder at the same time. The taste of the blood still filled his mouth and as Murdoc grabbed his hips hard, forcing his cock even deeper, Angus opened his eyes.

Only to see the masked humans above him, standing at the edge of the little earth slope, watching him. It made him whimper, mind beginning to wonder what was going on for just a moment.

“Murdoc-“ he whined but it was drowned in the singing and yelling, Murdoc just pulling him a little closed, beginning to fuck him right there on the altar, in front of everyone. While Angus was completely naked, Murdoc was still in most of his clothes, like a god who wouldn’t undress unless he pleased. He had only abandoned his cape, his bare arms exposed, the muscles tensing as he held and pushed, Angus struggling beneath him.

Everything suddenly appeared weirder, Murdoc seeming different above him.

“I’m your god, am I not?” Murdoc leaned down to ask him in his ear, his voice entering his brain like the water had flooded his ears, mouth and nose, kissing along his neck.

“Yes,” Angus managed, “yes yes yes -“

Murdoc fucked him harder, mercilessly. Angus came hard with a scream, several voices screaming too, alike his own.

Angus felt as if he was laying upon burning sand, biting his skin like a million ants trying to devour him. Still surrounded by the sinful fruit, feeling Murdoc’s cold hands on his skin. 

He looked up, seeing nothing but screens filled  with humanoid animals staring directly into the cameras, directly at him ; he saw hands trying to touch and drown him, digging their claws into his scalp, as the monsters from the depth, that wanted to steal his tongue, emerged.

Unable to stop himself, he snapped with his teeth, as if to protect himself like a scared and feral dog.

Angus was sure he could hear Murdoc laughing as he bit down on his god’s shoulder, but he barely noticed, too gone.

Everything felt so good. 

Fern watched his god ruthlessly fuck Angus; like an animalistic beast, primal and feral, his movements almost seeming inhuman, blasphemous or unnatural. Something wicked about the whole thing, but wasn’t that why he loved this so much?

He would do anything for his god. He might care for Angus too, but if his god asked, Fern would do it without any remorse, even kill him.

Unhinged, rhythmic and beautiful. This would be in his mind for ages, the euphoria of watching his god truly take back his lover, freeing him from the darkness that had threatened to take Angus away.

Only Angus couldn’t run fast enough that day.

Angus could barely focus on anything but the way Murdoc’s cock felt inside of him, the way he touched and bit him. 

His hips collided with Angus’ ass with such a force that he would have been pushed further up the altar, hadn’t it been for Murdoc’s tight grip on his thighs.

“My peculiar broken darling,” he snarled into Angus’ ear, the words echoing inside his mind, “I chose you well that day, did I not? You were destined to be mine, Angus.”

Angus felt like the world was spinning.

“Even if I needed to help destiny in the right direction.” Kisses and bites trailed along Angus’ jaw, adding to the pain and pleasure of the whole situation.

“But a god is above destiny, isn’t he?” Murdoc then whispered into the other ear.

His fingers sunk even deeper into Angus’ thighs and he couldn’t hold back a sob of pain, twisting in Murdoc’s unforgiving grip; his nails dug into his burning body, pressing through the first layer of skin, leaving more marks to join Angus’ collection, voluntarily or not.

His thrusts became even more violent and Angus cried out loudly - then he came, Murdoc moaning as he tightened around his cock. Only a few more harsh movements and Angus felt his front hole fill with cum, making his eyes flutter close.

He wasn’t even sure if there were any rhythm to the screaming and clapping anymore, the instruments, stomping and singing feeling like one big mess to him by now. Nothing but chaos, just like inside Angus’ own mind.

It was as if his mind had been dropped, breaking into pieces like delicate porcelain. The pieces then being crushed by the weight of reality.

His sweet little thing was so gone on the lsd, such a pathetic yet exquisite man, high on pleasure and pain too, begging for more again and again.

Talking nonsense, but it was alright because Murdoc had him exactly where he wanted him.

When he had seen Angus in Afghanistan he had merely dreamt of this moment, just a fleeting idea of the intelligent man becoming his plaything, his beautiful lover with a brilliant brain but a broken mind.

Shooting him had been hard, since Jack Dalton guarded his EOD like a guard dog in love. But Murdoc found a random opportunity, took aim and shot - fully aware he was breaking the toy he hadn’t even touched yet. But sometimes doing that was necessary to get what you wanted. — and he finally had Angus here, no longer in the sand after Murdoc had shot him, but writhing beneath him on an altar, surrounded by a chaos of rituals and mythology, of manipulation and gaslighting together with drugs and abuse.

He fucked his sweet thing a little harder, moaning from the pleasure, the proof of ownership over his lover. All of Eden knew now, knew how Angus belong to nobody but him, how he was the only one to fuck his hole, to touch his t-dick. How his cries of pain and pleasure belonged to Murdoc and hearing them was a blessing.

They were the reincarnation of the sun and the moon, the perfect creation of the earth, his Angus was an eternally lover for him, no matter how he messed up, Murdoc would ruin him personally and then make sure he was born again; fresh and pure, just for Murdoc to corrupt again.

It was like he wasn’t quite there; like the lake had swallowed him whole, like his god had let him down. Embraced by the lake illuminated by the candles and torches, kissing his burning skin. Filling his lungs with their wet love, dulling his painful breath

Murdoc was the Earth, he was the sky and the stars. He was the water in the lake, the blood in Angus’ veins.

He was showing Angus the light again, cleansing him.

Angus could feel his god fill him with come.

He could hear an eruption of screams that made the earlier one seem like nothing.

It is as if the ocean had been filled with the stars of the sky; he swam through it effortlessly, every star kissing his skin, urging him to continue his movement, continue his journey. Somehow the idea of drowning in this galaxy of wonders didn’t scare him, somehow it only made him feel safer. The idea of the stars swallowing him whole, pulling him down into the deep and making sure he wouldn’t feel the pain again, sounded like a relief. It sounded like something he could only have dreamt of.

Angus didn’t know where he was and barely who he was anymore, but in a way he supposed it didn't matter. 

As long as his god was here.

Chapter Text

Afterwards it felt like it had just been a dream. A horrifying dream that still sometimes woke up Angus in the middle of the night. 

Angus sometimes saw masks in his dreams, sometimes he had nightmares where the masked people hunted him, dragging him to the hole despite his screaming and begging. Their hands turning into claws, screaming back at him through their masks. Animals watching him panic, singing and chanting while he was exposed and afraid. Foxes leading him to slaughter, the wolf shushing him before his death. Drowning in water and in lust, hurt by hands that also loved him, reborn to nothing but pleasure, devotion and belief.

However, now it felt like Angus had a purpose again, different from before everything happened. The dream didn’t feel real, because everything was better now.

He slept in Murdoc’s bed permanently now, sometimes in the foot end, but more and more he slept cuddled close to his god. It was like he belonged there, like he was a part of Murdoc by now. Just like one of Murdoc’s pieces of jewelry, Angus was a part of his collection. A special one, Murdoc would mutter into his skin, as he took Angus apart every evening, making Angus cry and squirm with pleasure. The lover of a god is a treasure, not a mere piece of jewelry. 

Every breath was given to Angus by Murdoc, every beat of his heart was by permission.

Like a lost puppy, Angus followed along his master, whenever he hadn’t any tasks to do. He knelt at Murdoc’s feet while the god read different documents or talked about economics with one of the other members. Whenever he wasn’t together with his friends, one could without a doubt find him close to his master, quietly at his feet. Often with his noise canceling headphones, just wanting to be close to his god.

“We're doing something special here, Angus,” Murdoc reminded him, touching his skin with his cold hands, as if breathing life into Angus’ skin, “We’re starting a new world.”

However, one morning, Murdoc let a sudden bomb drop that almost made the blonde freak out.

“A work trip?” Angus asked, eyes a little white, flexing his fingers again and again, “I - can I come?” 

Angus knew Jay went on a couple of worktrips now and again. Angus was always happy to see his friend again when he returned but… but this was different. Angus was safe in Eden, like a child held close by its mother, protected with a kiss on the forehead. With Murdoc close to him, nothing bad could ever happen. But it wasn’t Eden without Murdoc - not really. The idea of his god abandoning him made the fear of not having been good enough crawl up his spine.

“No, darling,” Murdoc answered, an amused glint in his eyes, “You have to stay back.”

A fearful whine left Angus, but Murdoc pressed a finger against his lips, “Hush, sweet thing. I need you to stay here and take care of Eden, while I take care of some other things.”

“But Murdoc,” He whined in a distressed tone, making Murdoc raise an eyebrow.

“Are you questioning me, pet?”

“No, but-”

“But?” 

Angus bit his lip, feeling tears in his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave me.” He whispered, shame in his voice. He knew he shouldn’t doubt Murdoc, he wasn’t supposed to. Yet Angus couldn’t help himself, wanting to throw up at the mere idea of being left by him.

He wanted everything to stay normal like this. It was greedy of him to want the world to run the way he wanted to, he couldn’t demand that. Couldn’t demand that of Murdoc either, you simply couldn’t make those kinds of demands - especially not of a god.

“Darling boy,” Murdoc said, amusement in his tone, “I am not abandoning you, silly thing. I am merely asking you to take care of things at Eden while I take care of things outside Eden.”

Angus didn’t like the idea, but he slowly nodded, already wanting to ask when Murdoc would be leaving and when he would be returning. 

“It would mean a lot to me,” Murdoc continued, running his fingers along Angus’ jaw and Angus felt himself shudder, shooting stars bursting from his body, making him forget about any pain in his leg or in his arm. Nothing but Murdoc’s touch was important and making him proud? Perhaps the only thing better than physical touch.

“I’ll do it, master,” he whispered.

“He is dependent on you,” Crow said, amusement barely hidden in his voice, “are you sure he can do it?”

Murdoc let out a pleased hum, watching how Angus was talking to Fern about something, the two of them smiling. A wolf in sheep’s clothing talking to an actual sheep. It was cute. Despite everything they had put Angus through, his bird still talked to Fern and all the others - as if they hadn’t been a part of breaking his wings, dutifully doing whatever Murdoc had wanted. Like good followers.

Ideally he would stay here. But he needed to test if Angus would be fine if he left; needed to see if something would break inside his biting puppy - if he would realize how messed up things had become - or if he would merely do as told. Besides, the itch was there.

The itch that forced Murdoc to leave once in a while. Work trips, he always explained. It wasn’t a complete lie, though he doubted many would consider assassinating someone a ‘work trip’. But Murdoc needed to kill somebody - so that it wouldn’t be one of his members. 

“I believe in him,” Murdoc finally answered, “I need to see if he can do it - what he will do. Besides, I have eyes on him.”

“You do.” Crow agreed, giving Murdoc a smile, “eyes everywhere, my god.”

Jack Dalton stood, leant up against the car, a soft smile on his face. Eric’s family was laughing, his mother crying and hugging him closely. Clearly happy, relieved to be back. This , this was what Jack would have wanted it to be like with Mac, perhaps just with Jack’s own family; his mama kissing Mac’s forehead, pinching his cheek. Welcoming Jack and Mac home. At the very least, he could give Eric this. This was what he had promised himself he would do. Made sure that Eric came home safely.

They offered him to stay. His family hugged Jack too and Jack accepted the hugs even though it wasn’t his own family. But he declined the offer of staying. Eric knew why of course. That little shit always knew too much, much more than he let on.

Eric had given him some water and snacks for the drive back and Jack put it in his car.

“I hope you find Mac.” His voice was gentle, like a hug inside Jack’s mind that he couldn’t explain. In a tone that convinced Jack for a moment, that he would , “That you get him to safety. Whatever is happening.”

Jack smiled, a mixture of a hopeful and sad one. He knew Eric had figured out a lot more than what Jack had told him. Jack almost felt like tearing up. Even though Eric wasn’t Mac, he had begun to care for another bomb nerd as well. He drew Eric into a hug, a tight one and Eric let out a pleased sigh. His fingers tightening just a little more in his clothes, as if he knew that Jack truly needed it.

“Perhaps I can meet the famous Angus Macgyver one day,” He whispered gently as they pulled apart and Jack let out a laugh, with a sad tone to it.

“Yeah,” Jack answered, “me too. You would be a chaotic duo.”

“A job?” 

“Yes,” Patricia Thornton tipped her head to the side, her cold features just like Jack remembered them the first time he met her, “Not the FBI or CIA. We’re starting something new, something that doesn’t even exist officially.”

Jack remained quiet for a moment. This was a good offer, hell it was an offer he had only dreamt of. He could finally do something he wanted to, do something more than just being in the army or CIA. Yet the face of his favorite bomb guy haunted his mind. In a way, Jack felt like he couldn’t just abandon Mac at the cult. It would have been as if he had abandoned him in the sand when he got shot.

“I’m honored, Thornton.” He said.

“-but?”

“But there is something I gotta do first.”

“Which is?”

“Gotta help a loved one,” he said, giving her a soft smile, “When I figure that out, I will find you again.”

Patricia Thornton didn’t look fully satisfied but still nodded.

He couldn’t leave his Mac to bleed out in the sand, couldn’t abandon him more than he already had. He had to explain, and had to see his favorite nerd again. Kiss his forehead, hug him. Apologize, endlessly apologize, save him from the mess he had been dragged into.

Perhaps kiss his lips too. Admit to those feelings that had kept him awake so many nights, apologize for not doing anything earlier. 

You go kaboom, I go kaboom, he thought, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Chapter Text

As Angus watched Murdoc drive away in the car, the dust swallowing up the car, he had the urge to break down and cry. To scream for Murdoc to return.

A warm hand touched his shoulder and he looked over it, Dr. Crow smiling at him, a kind look on his face.

“Don’t worry, Angus,” Dr. Crow said softly, “He will be back soon.”

He had to trust his God; Angus knew that it was what Crow was telling him to do.

Angus looked back again, the dust from the car settling, leaving the long driveway lone, safe from the cars parked, though his worries didn’t seem to settle like he wanted them to. 

“I know,” he answered the comforting words from the voice that sometimes appeared in his dreams, distorted and painfully evil, “I just wanted to go with him.”

“He trusts you to keep Eden going,” Crow reminded him, “it means a lot to him if you do that.”

Angus nodded. It felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders, but one he still felt proud to carry. He could do it - he was the lover of a god , blessed with the divine purpose of carrying on the group’s travel towards light, while Murdoc went on his own adventures. Things he had to attend, he had told Angus.

“Don’t worry,” Fern added, giving his other shoulder a short pat, “We’ll help ya’. Can’t get rid of us.”

The words made Angus snort but smile; he wasn’t alone, not truly. He had his fri-his friends - friends - standing above him, distorted faces, friends, animal heads, friends, looking down on him, before leaving him in the hole, hands attempting to take his tongue - friendsfriendsfriends monsters animals, friends-animalsfriendsfriendsfrie– He had his friends. 

They would help him.

Luckily there weren’t a lot of rituals or ceremonies while Murdoc was gone. They held a public dinner which went rather well, if Angus would say so. There were two people who would return another day for another dinner, since they considered joining.

Both of them seemed nice; curious but polite, each of them looking for something Angus wanted to be able to give them. He supposed that was how Murdoc felt a lot of the time. 

They held a small party two days later. Fern and Luna had helped him with what to write in his little speech before they ate their meals and the members seemed to love it. It was odd to be the center of attention like that suddenly, Angus realizing that he preferred being in Murdoc’s shadow, but at the same time Angus was honored that his god trusted him to do this. Trusted his lover to speak, to welcome potential new members.

They ate, drank and danced. Within the heavy rhythm of the drums and their claps, their voices singing the tunes that he had come to know, he felt himself sink into the headspace of love. He didn’t dance a lot himself, his foot was still a little weak, but the little he did was wonderful. He almost felt high, dancing in between the others in their chain like movements. Blurs of green, of smiles and laughter filling up his lungs. Blending in between each other, the mixture of feet, some bare and some with shoes, which made the dust curl around them.

Instruments romanced their minds, laughter kissed their cheeks and the smiles sealed the deal. It was truly a form of heaven he had joined, wasn’t it? Here he could be safe, happy. Even if the flashes shortly reminded him of falling, of his own clothes falling around him too. The hands he didn’t know touching him while dancing, reminded him of the hands holding him down, trying to kill him. He wanted to snap at them instinctively once in a while, afraid they would bring him pain. Memories of falling down, colliding with the bottom of the pit, watching the melting faces of people above him, their masks sewn into their skin. Blood mixing with mud.

Angus kept his own mask on, despite the immense need for Murdoc, for the guidance that he was used to being offered. Everyone around him was so kind. Eyes following him wherever he went, ready to jump in and help if needed.

The cold bed without his God didn’t bring peace. Would his god be watching him? Angus wasn’t sure. He liked to imagine Murdoc turned off the screens after everything , after crowning Angus. But he wasn’t sure.

He needed somebody to tell him what was right and wrong. Like a puppet, desperate for the puppeteer to pull the strings so that it could smile, cry, laugh, live. Incomplete without his god. There was safety in the loss of control that Murdoc offered him. 

He wanted Murdoc home so badly he could almost throw up; like a working dog left to take care of the farm while its master was away, waiting for its owner to return, doing its best to keep the world going - but unable to do it as well as its owner.

Angus slept with one of Murdoc’s shirts on, taking in the scent as he fell into slumber that night. The drums of the party echoing in his mind, faces flashing by. Holy fruits and wine still on his tongue, sinfree words having dripped from his mouth. 

Lightness in the dark, overwhelmed and alone, Angus fell asleep.

He felt abandoned, just like he had been by everyone throughout his life. His mom dying, his dad leaving him behind - Jack abandoning him, staying instead of following him. The fear of Murdoc deciding not to return to Eden Ranch was overwhelming.

Food began to taste like ash; memories from before the time at the farm began to reappear in his dreams and his mind, the pain in his shoulder beginning to flare up again.

“It’s nothing Angus,” Dr. Crow said, sitting down on his chair, the furniture creaking a little under his weight, the older man pushing up his glasses a little, “imagination, that’s all. Phantom pains.”

Angus furrowed his brows at the words. Phantom pains, that didn’t sound right.

“I haven’t lost a limb,” he pointed out, the pain pulsing beneath his skin of the shoulder as he looked down at the wound again, staring at the spot that looked upset, “phantom pains only appear at the loss of limbs, as one—“

“Angus,” dr. Crow’s voice was a little sharper but still on the gentle side and Angus almost jumped looking over at the man, “it’s just your mind, yeah?”

“It’s like something is in there,” he argued, pressing down on his shoulder, ignoring the pain, feeling the bump beneath his skin, “if you just—“

He had been too busy with trying to explain himself to notice Crow getting up; the older man’s hand gently pulled away Angus’ hand from the shoulder, stopping him from pushing down to feel the bump.

“Pressing on your wound won’t help,” he gently said, “you’re stressed. Darkness is crawling its way into your mind again.”

A whimper left him at the words and as he looked up at Crow, his face was a bird’s for half a second, haunting him with his words and feathers.

“But you’re the lover of a god, Angus,” Crow whispered, “Murdoc will be home soon. Help you feel better, help the light return to you. We will do a cleansing ceremony then.”

Angus could feel his bottom lip tremble at the mention of Murdoc’s name. Almost wanting to cry out that Crow didn’t deserve to utter his name.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay.”

Crow smiled, giving him a small pat on the cheek.

“I’ll give you something calming. Jay, Fern and Rose will help you throughout the day, yeah?” 

Crow moved again, Angus swallowing as he nodded, another small “okay”, leaving him.

A cleansing ceremony, that was what he needed. That and for Murdoc to return home, for his divine presence once more to bless this garden of Eden.

The days felt longer and longer to Angus; some nights he sat down by the river, watching the water glide by, headphones on, blocking out all sounds, as he softly rocked back and forth. Feeling the soft, damp grass beneath him.

Sometimes one of the others would join him, Fern appearing with a joint and the promise of them not having to talk. It was nice, eased his mind. Even if it felt lonely to return to the bed of his god, which was cold and empty.

Jack felt uneasy, both in a good way and bad. Eager to see Mac again, yet dreading the whole situation his bomb nerd was most likely in. 

A part of him wished that merely turning up was going to fix it. That Mac would see him, forget about this Murdoc, about this whole hippie-living-on-a-commune kind of thing. Accept Jack’s apology and let his friend take care of him.

Perhaps it was naive, to have a hope that it would all easily be fixed, but still.

He wanted to bring Mac home to his parents’ place, and wanted to make sure the younger man understood that everything would be okay - that Jack was going to fix everything.

Because he was going to do that. He was going to fix everything… right ?

The message was simple.

I will be home in 20 minutes.

It had Angus whine with glee, hurrying to shower and get the last things ready for his return.

Murdoc’s car appeared 20 minutes later, the god stepping onto the divine land once again, blessing their minds with his presence, with his mere appearance.

Angus was the first to greet him, whimpering as his god cupped his face, pulling him into a soft kiss.

“Sweet thing,” he cooed, “did you do well.”

“I did my best,” Angus promised with a shaking voice, barely able to keep his legs from giving up beneath him, “I did my best, sir.”

“I’m sure you did, Angus.”

His return had the entire ranch bustling with excitement and life that was hard to explain, hard to truly understand. 

Murdoc was different from everyone else, he was special, he was perfect. He hadn’t abandoned Angus, even when he had the chance. Instead he returned, showering him with  love that Angus felt like he didn’t even deserve.

He followed him, like a shadow, not even listening to most conversations - instead just resting whenever he could, by Murdoc’s feet. The others’ didn’t seem to mind, in fact all his friends just smiled at him when they passed, letting him stay with his master. Had he had a tail, it would be wagging all day.

He wanted him for himself, just for a moment, to touch, to show his god how much he had truly missed him.

Instead they ate a meal together, Murdoc spoke to his followers, euphoria in the air of their returned god - dancing afterwards, though it wasn’t long before his god pulled him from the circle, away from the rhythmic music and loud laughter and singing; into the dark of the night, just long enough away for them to not need to raise their voices.

The urge that has overwhelmed Murdoc was once again settled, like a beast having finally been fed once again. Now slumbering deep inside him, making him able to continue his life at the Ranch.

The victim of his job had been a man that deserved to die - at least in Murdoc’s opinion. He had gotten paid, sure, but it wasn’t like he or the ranch needed money. They had much more than they needed. But the blood had been necessary for Murdoc. 

Otherwise he might have done something he would regret - like sacrificing his beautiful being, to the earth he considered himself above. No, no matter how much he wanted to own every single blood drop and bone in Angus’ body, every thought and desire of his mind, killing him wouldn’t be the way to go. Angus was too precious, too smart for his own good, unable to survive without Murdoc - his life was in Murdoc’s hands, and the older man knew he would never find somebody like Angus Macgyver again.

His sweet pet, his sweet thing, didn’t even protest as he pulled him away from the party. So when he tugged him to the parking lot, the lights from the party illuminating his beautiful thing, he felt the power rushing through him once again.

“You did so well, my boy,” he cooed into his lover’s ear, pressing him against the front of his car, almost feeling the sigh of relief  that went through Angus’ body in his own bones, “whatever happens, wherever I go, you know that I will always take care of you - you know that, don’t you, Angus? Whatever happens.”

“Yesss,” he whispered against his lips, parting his lips as Murdoc gently grabbed his throat, his blue eyes lust blown.

“Why is that, Angus?” He wanted his sweet boy to say it, say it after the multiple days he had been gone, “why can I do that?” His sweet thing almost seemed too gone, even though he hadn’t been drugged for once. It would come later. Maybe Murdoc should slip some aphrodisiacs in his drink.

“Because I’m god,” Murdoc tightened his grip a little, “Aren’t I?”

“Yes,” he whispered, a moan spilling from his mouth, his sweet thing rutting against his leg like a dog in heat, “Yes, you’re god, Murdoc, you’re god.”

“And I love you .” Angus almost cried out at the words, such simple four words, hadn’t it been for biting his lips, only a mewl leaving him, “say it, my little bird.”

“Because you’re god,” his voice almost didn’t shake, “Because you’re god and you love me.”

“What does that make you?”

“Your lover,” he almost sounded amazed at his own words, like he had forgotten that while Murdoc was away.

“Murdoc,” Angus almost sounded like a little whore, as he whimpered out the older man’s name and Murdoc chuckled darkly. He repeated his name. Like a prayer, like his own divine attempt at begging, like he spoke to an otherworldly being. 

His movements were quick as he moved Angus around suddenly, pushing him over the hood. At this point, Angus was happy to let himself be bended over the hood of the car, despite the fact that people could easily see him, see him being fucked. Murdoc pulled down his pants, whispering loving words in his ear, then pulling down his own.

Everyone looking towards the parking lot, would see he was truly Murdoc’s lover. He leant over his lover, pressed against the cold car, moaning at the feeling of Angus’ body finally beneath him. He rutted his cock against Angus’ almost dripping pussy, teasing his sweet boy for just a moment, before he took a hold of his own cock; he pushed himself into Angus’ body without any mercy, in one hard thrust.

Angus barely managed to swallow his scream and Murdoc welcomed it, like a blessing of his return. He had missed this, missed his sweet Angus, even if it wasn’t in the way the younger man believed.

He was his obsession, his little star; only for Murdoc to own, for him to cradle in his hands, for him to enjoy the burning genius. Everyone could watch but they could never own him, not like Murdoc did - and he owned him, he owned Angus .

He owned the man with the dark blond hair and broken mind beneath him, who was crying and scrambling against the car, who spilled Murdoc’s name repeatedly, sinfully loud. He was tight around his cock, voice almost sounding wet, as Murdoc couldn’t help but spill his own words. How he had missed him, how he loved him, how he was proud of him, how he would make any darkness go away.

How he would save Angus from himself.

With a quick hand he slid his hand beneath Angus, feeling his erect little cock, chuckling against his lover’s ear, jerking him off in the same rhythm as this thrusts into his sweet hole.

“Come for your god, Angus.”

And he did, falling apart beneath Murdoc’s body. Murdoc entered his own euphoria from the pained sounds of Angus, painting his muse’s inside with his cum. Sinking his teeth into the top of Angus’ ear, biting down hard, harder and harder, until his teeth met each other and the tip of his lover’s ear rested on his tongue; his sweetheart passing out beneath him, like a good boy, like a lamb accepting its fate.

Chapter Text

Mac’s house was unkempt, the anxiety growing in the older man’s mind. Jack watched it for a while, sitting quietly in his car, staring, waiting hopefully for any sign of life. Nothing. No sounds, no movement. Minutes passed by. Just like minutes had passed when Mac had been bleeding beneath him. Stay with me, Mac. But when Mac had needed him the most, Jack hadn’t even stayed with him.

The regret, the shame, the guilt - it was all eating him up inside. 

There was no sign of Mac being inside the house, no sign that he had realized Jack was there at least. That he was back, back to take care of him, to help him, to love him. To apologize for everything he had done wrong, for failing his best friend.

He felt a pang of sadness as he excited his car, the lack of a happy greeting like Eric had gotten, was making his heart hurt. He wanted that, he had dreamt of that moment with Mac. Wanted his bomb nerd to hold him close, hiding his face in Jack’s neck. Jack wanted to sink his fingers into the younger man’s clothes and make sure he didn’t let go for a good minute at least, finally back to keep him afloat, to keep him safe again. Take in the scent of him, just listen to his voice. He would happily stand there, rocking back and forth a little, to make sure the younger man knew he was still there, no matter what.

Despite knowing that there wouldn’t be any answer, Jack still walked to the door, watching the unkept front yard, the weeds and plants growing all over, living happily in peace. The stack of newspapers and ads on the little porch and the steps, disintegrating from the weather, having been abandoned on the floor.

He knocked. Nothing.

 Jack closed his eyes. Knocked again. Hopeful, waiting.

With each knock, he heard the shot going through the air: it was like he could hear Mac’s wet cough, his blue eyes looking up at him. Reminding him how he had failed as Mac’s overwatch, how he hadn’t been able to keep him safe. How he had been shot and almost died, on his watch. Jack constantly saw his younger love in his arms, coughing and in pain, blue eyes filled with terror as they both thought this was it. The sand that never seemed to leave Jack’s body, no matter how many times he had showered after coming home.

How the clothes had been stained with blood when he returned with Mac, asking - demanding - the medics to save him. 

Knock.

The shot.

Knock.

Mac falling to the ground.

“Mac,” he called out, as if he was unable to accept the fact that the blonde man wasn’t there, knocking three times more, “Mac!”

Jack sat at the hood of his car for another couple of minutes, watching the front door, fully aware it wouldn’t open. He had to go to the ranch then, no way around it. 

He wanted to, no, he needed to see Mac. To make sure he was alright, that he was taken care of - that it wasn’t what he feared the most, that it wasn’t a cult like Bozer had described. That he wasn’t being abused, that Jack hadn’t once again let him into danger by not being there for him.

His entire trip back, Jack Dalton had been hoping Mac had gotten out of it himself - that he had used that smart brain of his, crawled out from whatever hippie place he had gotten himself into. Or been lured into. Jack wasn’t sure. In the end, did it really matter how he ended up there?

It pained the other man that it had even happened, that Mac had been in a bad enough state to let himself be dragged into this. Even if it didn’t matter.

Not to Jack. It was just a question of getting him out again. 

He pulled out his phone, opening his messages for a moment. Mac hadn’t even seen the many texts he had sent this last week or more. No matter how many he had sent, how many unanswered calls, Jack hadn’t given up. He knew he had left Mac a mountain of voice messages by now, yet he kept calling, kept messaging. Perhaps it was Mac’s awkward voice telling the caller to leave a message, that had made him stay on the line, forcing himself to leave another message, hoping this one would be the breaker.

That it would result in a call back, when he could finally speak to him.

He truly didn’t want to go to this ranch, but Mac’s safety was and should be his main priority. He should have realized that in the desert, shouldn’t have left him to go home alone.

As he called Bozer, the other man picked up on the second ring, his voice having become rather familiar by now.

“What was the address again, hoss?” He cut straight to it, not even greeting the other man.

Bozer was quiet for a moment.

“You gonna go there?” he finally asked, voice sounding unsure. Jack knew Bozer had truly been rattled, despite how nice the people there had been. Or pretended to be.

“Sure am,” Jack answered, getting into his car again, “I need to see him.”

“Okay - I’ll text you the address just… I know you’re a supersoldier and everythin’, just be careful, okay? They’re some creepy motherfuckers.”

“Duly noted, Bozer,” he didn’t necessarily feel scared of the men - more afraid of what Mac had gotten him into, “I’ll call you afterwards, okay?”

The entrance of the ranch was well hidden, if one didn’t know where to look, the only proof that something truly hid behind the trees was the wooden sign near the gravel road.

Eden Ranch

There was a painted branch beneath the green letters and Jack knew it was prejudice that told him the simple sign was a bad sign. Hadn’t Bozer told him to look out for it, he might not even have noticed.

As he slowed down and turned onto the gravel road, he was greeted by the sight of a large horse further down the road, both animal and the human riding it staring at him for a short moment. The rider was clad entirely in green, staring at the car, straight at Jack, as he was a demon spawning from hell. As he was nothing but danger, as if he was an unexpected ghost.

Jack slowed down even more, almost coming to a hold, hoping to be able to greet the other  - but then the rider turned the horse, and in the matter of seconds, the pair was disappearing down the road, at full speed. Jack watched the dust cloud that formed from the horse, before starting to drive a little faster.

They would know he would be coming then. He doubted the rider was just trying to get out of his way, they could have walked in between the trees. Perhaps it was for the best - it would show the group’s reaction to his sudden, unwarned arrival, without proper time to prepare a grand show.

The road seemed to go on forever, the rider long gone, as the trees curled around his car; almost creating a tunnel, leading him deeper and deeper, away from the society and the normal road. Only the birds flew above him, save from the occasional security camera he spotted, up in the trees. Alas, even if the rider hadn’t spotted him, they would have known he was coming anyways. Which he dutifully noted, if he needed to get inside unseen at some point - then this road was out of the question.

As he finally reached the end of the driveway, several cars in the big gravel parking lot, he wished he had brought his gun. But he wasn’t there to do anything wild, he reminded himself. The group, whoever the fuck they were, wouldn’t do him anything - at least he told himself so.

He parked the GTO, stepping outside after a deep breath. 

As he looked around, Jack had to admit everything looked beautiful. Idyllic in an odd way. Something from a movie. Long cleared fields, a river, big houses in the distance, a barn if he wasn’t wrong. A paradise - and Eden he supposed - hidden from society.

The horse or the rider was nowhere to be seen. However, as he stepped out onto the middle of the parking lot, he saw several people looking at him. Awaiting him. Some looking from afar, some at little closer - the closest was at the edge of the parking lot, all wearing green, their bodies blending together in the different shades of the color as they stood close. 

All clearly speaking together, whether confused or upset over his arrival, Jack didn’t know, however Jack did what he did best; putting on a charming smile as he walked towards them, doing his best to look as harmless as possible, making it clear that he had nothing in his hands.

Jack didn’t reach the little group of people however, freezing as he spotted a figure darting over the little grassy hill behind the people, one leg a little unsure.

 It was impossible for him to look away, because here he was, a wingless angel descending from Jack’s dreams into reality; his blonde hair shining in the sun, a grin so big that Jack could see from afar and with something silver in his hair, that sparkled. His green clothes were flowing in the wind, as the small group of people parted into two, letting him pass through them. Then his voice finally reached him.

“Jack!”

Oh, his voice was just as perfect as he had remembered; his name falling from the other’s lips, this time not tainted with the pain and Jack felt the urge to cry from relief, from the mere sight of his little bomb nerd.

Chapter Text

As their bodies collided, Jack was sure this was what it was like to be hit by a shooting star, how the fire star exploded with delight, finally free, colors curling around him; he twirled his Mac around, unable to keep the happy laughter from escaping his chest. 

Finally, he was there in Jack’s arms. Ever since returning, it was like Jack could finally take a proper breath, without the feeling of sand in his lungs. 

Mac was crying, his entire body shaking as he held onto Jack, sobbing quietly into his neck and Jack made sure his embrace was strong but not too much. It was like when he held onto him that they, yet not the same at all - the younger man was crying from relief and Jack could feel tears well up in his own eyes. He hadn’t been strong enough the last time, but this time he wouldn’t abandon his friend… the man he was in love with. 

The overall scent of Mac had changed, but it was still there, beneath the scent of herbs and motor oil; that musky scent of his sweat, something that was purely Angus Macgyver. It reminded him that they were both alive but no longer in the desert, no bombs close by for them to clear.

No, Mac was breathing, even if crying, against Jack’s neck, his fingers digging into Jack’s clothes.

There was something poking his cheek and Jack opened his eyes slightly, looking at the thin silver wreath on his head, that looked closer to a barbed wire than anything else.

Not now, he reminded himself, closing his eyes again, gently caressing Mac’s back, letting out a soft hum as he felt the waves of emotion making Mac shake. 

So much had happened. Time had passed. If he had been able to, Jack would go back in town and shake his older self, scream for him to not give up, to not let go of the other.

Tears filled his own eyes for real now. How he had ever let Mac go through the pain alone, he didn’t know - he would never forgive himself for that.

It took him a couple of seconds to realize that Mac had begun to speak into his neck.

“I’m sorry, Jack, I’m so sorry,” a hiccup barely able to escape as he continued to speak, words falling over each other, as if he tried speaking several words at one time, “I’m sorry for not picking up your calls, for not answering your texts, I’m sorry -”

Despite the months apart, he knew that Mac was getting closer and closer to a panic attack and he took a deep breath, somehow being able to pull Mac closer. As if to attempt to let their rib cages intertwine and braid together, so they would never be apart again. Their bones growing together, into each other, their hearts touching and becoming one.

“hey hey hey, hoss,” he kept his voice gentle, feeling tears roll down his cheeks, “it’s okay, Mac. It’s all good, I’m here now, just breathe with me, it’s all forgotten.”

He was there now, they were together. When he took a breath, Mac did so too and Jack didn’t dare to open his eyes, afraid it was another one of his dreams. That Mac would stop breathing, that blood would spill from his eyes and sand drip from his mouth.

When Jack finally opened his eyes and dared to look up from where he had hid his face in Mac’s hair, he saw the group at the edge of the parking lot had gained a new member - or well, their leader had arrived. Jack didn’t need to be a genius, to see that this man was different from the others. Clad entirely in black while all the others wore green, golden jewelry, dark eyes watching them intensely. 

Jack had heard enough about the leader from Bozer.

For now, he ignored them, instead focusing on his Mac once more, pulling back slightly from the other, hands still resting on his arms, not fully letting him go. Finally getting a good, closer look on the other, who was smiling, even with tears falling from his puffy red eyes.

No stars that Jack had come across his entire life had anything on the other’s eyes. He wanted to hold him close again already, to carry him into the car and drive off. Life wasn’t as kind however.

“Jack,” Mac whispered, amazement in his voice, “you’re really here.” 

Guilt hit him like a strong wind, almost knocking him off his feet, nausea spreading for a moment. As much as it hurt to hear Mac say those words, Jack didn’t let go, instead he moved his hands - one after one - to carefully cup the other’s cheeks.

“Mac. I am so, so  sorry. I’m sorry about everything that happened, I – getting shot. I should have had your back. I shouldn’t have let you go home alone, Mac and I’ll never forgive myself. I should have kept you safe and I’m sorry, I–”

Mac sniffled, clearly caught off guard yet he still smiled at him, a smile that almost looked like the ones Jack always saw in his dreams, fingers resting upon Jack’s hands. Jack swore the fingers were thinner than last time he had seen them, last time he held onto them. That his cheekbones seemed sharper.

In fact, Mac seeme thinner despite the loose clothes he wore, thinner than last time. A logical part of his place reminded him that Bozer had mentioned Mac being sick - but still. He did look a little pale as well, as if he spent a lot of time inside - his hair longer. There was a big plaster on his left ear, that he finally noticed and it made him frown for a moment, questions already ready on his tongue, ready to spill - but then Mac spoke again.

“It’s alright,” he then said, eyes almost shining, sounding so sure of himself, “I’m safe now. I’m better now.”

“And you… you live here now?” he carefully asked, knowing full well the other did. 

“I do.” 

He sounded so sure, so confident, so… content. Mac smiled, a smile that Jack would pay millions to see every day, even if it seemed to not quite be as big as it could be. Jack gently caressed his cheek a little with his thumb, eyes only flickering up to look at the group of people watching them for half a second, then back at his favorite human being.

“- and you’re feeling better?”

“I am,” the blonde confirmed and then something that Jack could barely describe happened; it was as if his blue eyes almost turned glassy, as if something left them,  a spark of life that was usually there, something Jack couldn’t quite name, as Mac continued; “I’ve been saved, Jack. It’s all so good here.”

It was eerie, as if Mac wasn’t quite there, his voice even a tad different. Like it was words he had repeated so many times that he believed them by now. I’ve been saved, Jack. It’s all so good here. Jack might not have been able to save Mac the first time, but he wasn’t going to repeat that mistake. 

“Do you want to go out for dinner, hoss?” he offered with a smile, hoping to lure the man away from their mostly green-clad audience to properly speak to him - also fully knowing he was going to make sure that his friend was going to eat like a king, “Talk ‘bout what’s been happening these last coupl’ of months? How you ended up out here?”

“Why?” Mac answered, tipping his head to the side, eyes still a little glassy, “We can talk here.”

“I want to talk to you alone. I’ve missed you, Mac.” He didn’t even attempt to hide the genuine emotion in his voice. He wanted to scream it again and again. Scream his apologies out of his lungs, scream that he missed him… that he loved him.

The blonde blinked a couple of times, as if his mind didn’t quite understand the words; as if he had to reboot his brain, in order to give Jack an answer.

“We can talk alone here.” 

Jack didn’t let out the sigh that filled his ribcage and didn’t let his smile falter - but he did let go of Mac, even though every bone in his body screamed for him to touch the other again. If it hadn’t been like this, if it wasn’t the first time in months that he had seen Mac, he would have been direct - told him that the place was creepy as hell. That it was a matter of moments before they pulled out a giant statue of satan.

“I don’t know if we can - I - Mac. Let’s go out and eat, hoss - somewhere nice, yeah?”

Mac furrowed his brow, hesitating. Opening his mouth for a moment, but nothing came out. Only to close it again, bite his lip for a moment. Hesitation was clear on his face, as his gaze left Jack’s. Looking away.

“I don’t like to leave Eden.” He finally admitted. Jack had the urge to push, to pull him close, to throw him over his shoulder like he had done sometimes on their tour, making Mac laugh loudly, the sound echoing through his bones. Making his heart beat a little faster with joy. He missed waking up from a nap, finding paper clips stacked on top of his head.

“Why?” 

“I’m safe here.” He made it sound so simple. His smile had disappeared a little, but as he looked up at Jack again, he tried to smile again. Succeeding to a certain point, but it didn’t seem real.

“Mac - I,” Jack felt the frustration grow inside him, rushing through his blood, the many months of worry, of fear overwhelming him after hearing Bozer’s explanation about the place. The many months with no contact that he had spent out here - the plaster on the ear, the fact he had been sick, had hurt his leg at some point. The way he spoke, when he repeated I’m safe here. It was overwhelming and sickening and it made Jack want to cry with frustration. He couldn’t help but be blunt in his words, “Can’t you hear what that sounds like?”

Like a confused puppy, he tipped his head to the other side, the barbed wire crown moving slightly on his head. So many questions, just on the tip of Jack’s tongue. So many answers to demand.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean - hoss, fuck man - I mean you stay out here, barely even in contact with Bozer, never answering any of my calls, you wear the same kind of outfit like everybody else - can’t ya’ see anything weird about that?” He almost wanted to shake Mac. His genius, the smartest person that Jack had ever met, oblivious to what was happening around him. Blinded by something.

“I was saved,” Mac answered, like a tape running on repeat, crossing his arms, smile disappearing fully; Jack had seen Mac become defensive before and this was it, it was what he had wanted to avoid. “They were here when you weren’t. I’m safe. Murdoc saved me.”

It was like getting stabbed in his heart and Jack had to take a deep breath in order not to break into sobs, his voice feeling shaky, even as he did his best to keep it calm; this wasn’t the Mac he had known.

“Mac,” he dared to flicker his gaze up at the group nearby, then back at his friend, “Mac I’m sorry - I should have been here for you, you’re right. I know, I’m sorry. But I’m here now and Mac… Mac, this is clearly cult. I’ve talked to a few people, something sketchy is going on out here. Please, just - just go out to eat with me, yeah? Let’s talk everything through?”

“Stop saying that! I already said no!” He snapped out so loudly, voice in a higher pitch than usual, tears suddenly streaming down his cheeks once more, taking a step back as Jack reached out to hug him again, voice still loud, “you don’t understand, Murdoc saved me! HE SAVED ME!”

If his smile disappearing had seemed upsetting, it was the sudden outburst that was horrifying to him. Like a match suddenly and unexpectedly bursting into a full flame.

“Mac, listen–”

“Shut up!” He all but cried at Jack, clearly beginning to feel overwhelmed and Jack wanted to take his friend home, make sure he could hide in a dark room, headphones on, to not become too overstimulated, “You don’t understand! SHUT UP!”

The others whom Jack had previously ignored, were suddenly close. Jack had been too focused on Mac to realize their movement, how they closed in on them and he almost wanted to push them away. Especially the dark clad man, who reached out to gently touch Mac’s hand, that was desperately drying off tears.

“Angus,” his voice was sweet, like a snake in the garden, slithering out from the tall grass, his eyes landing at Jack for a moment, before he gently pulled Mac back a little - pulling him closer almost as if he wanted to hide Mac in the dark clothes. Swallow him into the darkness.

“Angus has already declined,” the man said, voice dripping with poison, not looking away from Jack. He might not have fangs or scales, but Jack could easily see what he was. A snake, warning him, in a stern voice, managing to sound slightly polite, “please, leave our property.” 

“I know who you are,” Jack answered the man, because he knew. Dennis Murdoc. He might be a stranger in person, but Jack knew about him, had done his research, “let Mac go.”

Mac cried out louder of a despair which Jack didn’t understand and Murdoc pulled him closer; Jack watched as Mac found comfort in the arms of the other, who didn’t look away from Mac, gently caressing Mac’s neck hair. As if to protect him, to prove that he was the good one here–

“His name isn’t Mac. It’s Angus,” Murdoc’s voice was clear, authoritative, the people around them looking more and more angry, upset at Jack’s presence, “Now leave. I don’t want anything to happen, but we will do what we must to keep our community safe.”

The ominous threat was not falling on deaf ears. Jack was outnumbered by the sheer amount of people here and there were people not too far away, looking at them as well. Dragging off Mac wouldn’t be easy, if not straight up impossible right now.

“Do you really want to bring more darkness into Angus’ life?”

The words hit him like gunshots, wounds throbbing from the pain. Jack stared at Murdoc, then at Mac. Beautiful, smart Mac, who wouldn’t even look at him, sobbing into the black clothes of the leader of the bloody cult. 

There was so much to say, so many things to argue, so much to explain to Mac.

Instead, he turned around. He wouldn’t be able to get Mac to understand what was happening, not now at least. But it burned, it hurt, knowing that he was once more leaving Mac and though he was not bleeding from a gunshot, he was in pain. Because of Jack. Because Jack didn’t look out for him enough, even if he had promised to.

Every step away from his crying friend felt like a step further into hell. He pressed his teeth so hard against each other that it hurt, clenching and unclenching his hands, each pained sob like a knife twisting in his wounds.

It felt like betrayal, getting into the car and driving away. Right after promising he wouldn’t leave him again, after apologizing for abandoning him, Jack did it once more.

Like the coward he was.

It was fifteen minutes later that he pulled onto the side of the road, finally breaking down. Crying like he hadn’t done for a good while, years if he wasn’t wrong. It hurt, deep inside, to see Mac like that. To hear that awful man call him Angus, knowing that the other didn’t like to be called that. Jack knew that, Mac had told him, a late evening, admitting that he hated the name - it was too close to his dead name.

“And it’s fucking stupid,” Mac had mused, looking up at the ceiling, laying next to Jack, “the amount of beef jokes i’ve heard throughout the years…” Jack had laughed - Mac had broken into laughter too, until somebody in the tent next to theirs, growled at them to shut up.

He was in a fucking cult now, everything was twisted and wrong. He had been wearing a fucking crown of barbed wires. A big plaster on left ear and Jack didn’t even get to know what had happened.

Jack didn’t know how long it took for him to stop crying. He felt exhausted by then, like his body creaked with each breath he took, ears ringing a little. When he finally finished crying, he felt much older and his hand shook a little as he picked up his phone.

Bozer sounded scared and upset too, as Jack explained what had happened -  Jack could hear that he was trying his best not to cry, but he broke eventually and it almost made Jack cry once more. He wasn’t sure he got more tears in him.

“I promise you Bozer, I’ll get him out.”

“How?” Bozer sobbed, “Jack, he sounds brainwashed.”

“Don’t worry about it - just… Just trust me.”

Jack wasn’t going to abandon Mac again. After hanging up, he sat in the car, watching the back mirror for a while. There weren’t a lot of cars that passed, but he couldn’t help but look for green clothes nonetheless.

He picked up the phone again. It rang twice.

“Dalton!” the familiar voice greeted happily, “Hi man, you back from the tour?”

“Thorpe,” He greeted his old friend, “I am - but listen, man… I need your guys’ help.”

Chapter Text

No matter how much delight Murdoc took of watching his Angus in pain, to see his sweet thing writhe in agony and cry from the distress, this wasn’t the kind he liked; no, he hadn’t done this to Angus, it wasn’t as good, as pure as it could have been.

Yet, the outcome of this had been good - no, it had been quite wonderful, especially when Angus had been the one to push away Dalton. Murdoc barely had to do anything, he had been able to watch how he had broken Angus ever since he got his claws into him. How he had broken him, reset him and forced him to survive. 

But what if he had not been there to save his beautiful pet from this man? If he had been able to lure Angus back into reality? 

The mere thought made Murdoc’s blood boil - he couldn’t have that. He had to make sure that Angus forgot the world outside, remind him of how the world outside would do nothing but bring him pain and horror, but Murdoc? Oh, Murdoc could bring him everything good. Everything he had dreamt of, his god would keep out anything from the darkness, to make sure he was happy.

Carrying the crying mess of a man wasn’t hard; he was like a puppet, all strings cut a long time ago, making him all limp and helpless when Murdoc had scooped him up. Held his perfect little sacrificial lamb, his beautiful victim close as he brought him away from a bad situation. Saving him again.

Swaddled in green fabrics, with his silver crown; caught in a spiderweb that Murdoc would never let him truly understand - unaware of how much Murdoc had tightened the web around his neck.

Murdoc doubted that his Angus was even aware that he was being carried away from the parking lot, that Murdoc was telling his followers what to do in soft spoken commands that would be followed. 

He lowered his head a little, making sure Angus could see nothing but his face, making sure that he could hear him.

”Don’t worry, sweet thing,” he purred to the lover in his arms, watching the tears in the younger man’s eyelashes, “I will make the darkness go away. You’re safe here.”

It wasn’t really hard to make his lamb take a drag of the joint; his lips shook, tears still streaming down his red cheeks as Murdoc cooed lovingly at him, making sure he inhaled correctly. Like a shark smelling the blood in the water, waiting for its prey to become weak - like the snake sensing the uncertainty in Eve, urging her to take a bite of the apple, waiting for her to do so.

”I won’t let him take you,” Murdoc promised sweetly, pretending to take a drag of the joint himself, Angus not even registering it, merely whimpering and reaching for Murdoc with shaking arms; sweet little creature, so broken, Murdoc wanted to break his neck from the pure delight he felt in his bones. He forced the joint to Agnus’ lips again, avoiding the arms as the blonde whined, “sssh, it will help you — I won't let the darkness take you, baby. You know that right?”

Some of the smoke escaped his lips as Angus then nodded, blue eyes staring up at him. That glassy look that Murdoc had come to love throughout the months was getting back; it was a perfect sign of what he had done to his little genius, how he had turned him into nothing but Murdoc’s mindless thrall. Stuck in a world he couldn’t escape.

”I saved you,” Murdoc reminded him, looking down at Angus who dutifully kneeled on the carpet of the living room, staring back at him, “I saved you, cleansed you from the darkness, made sure you were reborn, didn’t I, Angus?”

”Yes,” the other managed, his voice a little hoarse from the crying and Murdoc made him take another drag, watching him cough afterwards. There was sunlight coming from the window, illuminating his tousled hair, making the silver crown shine a little - it was getting stuck in the long hair, no doubt, but it made him look even more ruined.

”I’m grateful,” — oh how he wanted to laugh with delight over his little whore, his Angus, how he freely said that —  “You saved me.”

Murdoc nodded instead, unable to keep himself from grinning. 

“That’s right, pet, I saved you,” he confirmed, making him take another drag, “my lover.”

There was barely anything left of the joint by now and after killing the small stub in a nearby ashtray, Murdoc moved to grab ahold of Angus’ cheeks. He didn’t even more, kneeled there so dutifully, eyes blown with the drug, mouth open a little. Like a well trained dog. 

Beautiful. He was getting more and more just like Murdoc wanted; so perfectly molded like Murdoc had imagined when he saw Angus Macgyver’s file. Shooting Angus in the shoulder had been one of his best decisions.

He barely had to do anything before the little lamb followed him into the bedroom, crawling on all fours after him.

He was in complete disarray beneath Murdoc, yet so perfect at the same time. The barbed wire crown was no doubt hurting the back of his head as he was pressed against the pillow on the bed, but Murdoc couldn’t make himself care. Angus sounded like a gorgeous siren, ripped from mythology and pushed into Murdoc’s bed; his knees forced over Murdoc’s shoulder, his upper body raised so that Murdoc’s cock could reach even deeper into that pretty boy cunt of his. Making sure Angus knew that even now, after seeing Jack Dalton, that it wasn’t the Texan man who got to fuck him - only his God was allowed to do that.

He was gasping for air beneath him, Angus looking like he could barely breathed, the thrusts hitting him so fast that it made him gasp for air when he wasn’t crying out or hiccuping, his eyes red and puffy - his hands weakly grasping onto Murdoc’s arms. Murdoc’s own hands were digging into the blonde hips; he could feel the bone beneath his fingers, wondering if he could snap his hips in two, forcing Angus to break into two beneath him. He wasn’t even attempting to keep his grip nice, no, no, Murdoc wanted it to be painful, he wanted to leave finger shaped bruises as blessings for his little victim. He wanted Angus to touch the bruises tomorrow and be reminded of the love that Murdoc forced upon him, all the light that he gave him, even if it hurt. How Murdoc was always trying to free him from the darkness.

As if it wasn’t Murdoc force-feeding him the darkness, as if he wasn’t the one to constantly mess with Angus’ mind, killing his former self, killing this Mac; as if Murdoc wasn’t doing all of that to keep him here in Eden, to keep him desperate for love, for a purpose in life, now that he was broken. A broken little doll, undesired by the world around him.

No, no, Murdoc had given Angus — well, Mac, really — everything he had dreamt of. Love, familie, stability. Probably a drug addiction and messed up mental health too, but that was neither here nor there.

“You’re mine,” Murdoc growled, no, almost screamed, in between violent thrusts into Angus’ hole, watching how he was barely able to breathe, “I won’t let him take you, my pet. We’re meant to be together!”

There was something feral in his voice that Murdoc was barely able to recognise but he wasn’t able to control it either. He fucked Angus harder and harder, letting out a dark, pleased groan as the man came around him, wet insides tightening around him and Murdoc closed his eyes, fleetingly wondering if he should knock up Angus at some point - but where was the fun in that? Murdoc wanted Angus all to himself.

”Take it,” he snarled, continuing to fuck Angus through his orgasm, then oversensitivity, his little puppet screaming, barely trying to escape, “take it, take it, TAKE IT!”

Nobody made Angus talk about what had happened - as they sat at the tables in the evenings, it was as if Jack had never even been here at all, never set a step onto the grounds of Eden. Fern, Jay, Rose and the others merely talked about everything else. They didn’t comment on how upset Angus had been, how his neck had almost swollen looking bite marks or the fact that he stank of weed.

Angus wasn’t sure whether or not he was relieved that nobody forced him to talk about it - he wasn’t sure if he should force himself to talk about how much it hurt or force himself to forget. To put the reunion with Jack into a box in his mind and put it away.

But Murdoc had already taken care of him - that should be enough, shouldn’t it? He had already blessed Angus with pleasure, something that the others would never have. The touch from a god, their god, the kisses - the love.

His hips hurt from where Murdoc had gripped them, crescent shaped marks from his nails, spots from where his many rings had scraped his thin skin. The back of his head slightly sore from where the crown had been pressed against his skull — said crown had taken ages to get free from his hair.

Now everything was tidy again, it was as if it hadn’t even happened. Clean and forgotten. Only bruises and swollen bite marks were left behind.

Yet, Angus still felt a little dirty on the inside - as if there was some sorrow which hadn’t been cleaned out, some darkness that had hidden in between his ribs, in order to stay behind. For such a long time he had dreamt of a meeting between him and Jack again, despite the fact that Jack had forgotten him for such a long time. Was it wrong to yearn after something, even if you knew it wouldn’t be good for you?

His body was still a cage, filled with sins and darkness that he couldn’t let go. Murdoc said it was his own fault, that he wasn’t trying hard enough. 

Murdoc was giving him everything. He was being selfish, refusing to let go of the outer world and his former dreams.

There was nothing for him to fear inside Eden, no one out to harm him. There were no bombs for him to take care of, no war that he needed to fear. It was peaceful - he was surrounded by love and serenity.

Fern gave him a small nod towards the pills next to his plate, pulling him back into reality, up from the deep hole of his mind, freeing him from the cold mud that had suddenly gotten hold of him.

”Remember to take those,” Fern reminded him, “Can’t have you in pain, my friend.”

Angus huffed.

”It’s not that bad,” he lied, as if his shoulder wasn’t throbbing with an underlying pain from the position earlier, his hand shaking a little, “I can still dance later.”

Sure, it was painful and with the way Murdoc had fucked him, hadn’t helped, but it was more the pain in his mind. The cold, mud-covered hands that constantly tugged at him, reminding him about how he sent Jack away… after finally seeing him again.

He picked up the pills that Crow had given him before the meal, swallowing them and downing them with some of their usual drinks. Sweet like honey, with a warm undertone of herbs.

”Let’s see,” Luna pointed with her spoon at him, “It’s been a long day.”

Angus nodded. It was the closest to an acknowledgment of what had happened today.

It had been a long day though.

Yet, a little over an hour later, Angus found himself in the crowd, forgetting about everything for a while. By now he knew the rhythms to most of the songs, knew the moves. Whose hand to grab, who to twirl around and who to wave in between. He remembered the lyrics, the words telling about the darkness and the light fighting for the human body. How rebirth gave blessings of divinity, how you could open your mind and forget about the pain of the outside world.

It was after three sounds that he returned shortly to take a couple of sips of his drink, daring to look over at his god at the end of the table - he raised his glass as well, Murdoc drinking together with him.

Then Rose appeared, her hair wild and her freckled hands pulling him back to the dance. 

At the second song however, something began to change inside Angus’ body, his tongue feeling a little heavier. His body was hot - in a way he was reminded of one of the rituals - he had felt like this before.

For a moment, while he danced with the other people of the commune, the drums overtook his pulse, hands sliding in and out of his own, faces melting together. Animal heads on human bodies. Screaming and singing, Murdoc’s hand holding him beneath the water, the cold water entering his lungs, his god almost killing him - only to pull him up at the last moment, letting him live to be the lover.

A lover of their god.

Lover. He could be a lover. He cast a glimpse towards where Murdoc sat before, but he couldn’t spot him, too many people twirling around him, passing by him in their dance — 

Was that Jack?

Angus almost hit one of the others with his shoulder, losing the rhythm, with what was happening, constantly looking in between the others, almost pulled by them so the dance could continue. Had Jack been there? He wasn’t sure, where was Jac—

His body was burning, he felt so overwhelmingly horny and embarrassed at the same time; as if he was unable to breathe before he found release, his cunt almost dripping into his underwear.

It continued, the dance was wilder and wilder around him - Jack again, his face appearing in between the others - now wearing a mask, horns curling up from his head like a stag —

A hand pulled him from the dancing line, which easily closed behind him. Suddenly he was in the middle and the hand on his moved, taking a hold of his face. Palms cold, a relief to his burning skin and Angus’ couldn’t help the whimper that left him.

Even before he tipped his head up, he knew who it was, the familiar feeling of rings, the sight of black fabric and golden jewellery.

”Angus,” Murdoc’s voice was barely audible, the singing felt even louder by now, delighted sounds coming from the others around them, as their god and his lover stood in the middle of their dance circle, “sweet pet.”

”Murdoc,” his tongue felt heavy, his skin painful, his thighs pressing together in an attempt to feel some of relief, “I need you, now - please—“

He sounded so desperate for the other’s touch, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t feel anything but the warmth in his body, the way he felt so turned on by the mere touch and sight of Murdoc.

Murdoc leaned closer, dragging his lips along the ear with the plaster still on, letting out a pleased sound that Angus was barely able to hear. Then he moved, almost to the rhythm of the drums, kissing Angus - whispering onto his lips “always, my love.”

They didn’t even make it to Murdoc’s house at first - Murdoc pressing Mac against one of the houses on the way instead, barely 30 feet from the hall, the music still loud.

Murdoc’s fingers filled up his front hole, making Angus whimper into the wooden wall, Murdoc’s entire body keeping him pressed against it while he moved his fingers. His hands were cold, the rings even colder, like mean bumps inside Angus, making him cry out.

“My little lover,” he crooned, fingers running along Mac’s cock, “Such a whore for me, aren’t you?”

”Please,” Angus cried, not even caring if anyone was to hear them, “Please Murdoc, I need you.”

”So desperate,” his words were almost mean, but Angus hardly cared, not as Murdoc’s thumb played along his sensitive cock.

”Murdo— nghhh - need you!” He cried, “need you, need you—“

His fingers moved faster and Angus felt Murdoc spit on his cheek that wasn’t pressed against the wall. His eyes rolled up, crying out as he got closer and closer to the edge, twisting and whimpering —

He came with a loud cry and the release felt like a dream, his lewd needs disappearing for a moment.

Murdoc’s tongue was warm as he licked the spit off Angus’ cheek, his fingers continuing just a little more. Angus were sure he could hear the loud, wet sounds of the fingers, even with the fabric covering it.

”I’m gonna ruin you, Angus,” his words were said with such a loving tone that Angus barely realized what he said, “Then I will put you together again.”

He pulled his fingers out of Angus and the blonde couldn’t help but whine, already feeling his body heating up once more. He panted as he turned around, watching his god licking and then sucking on the fingers that had just been inside him. He was sure his face was already flushed but he felt himself blush nonetheless, letting out a pathetic sound.

”Ruin me, sir,” he whispered, “please.”

He was filled; one of his god’s hands twisted in his hair, the other gripping onto Angus’ bare shoulder, almost otherworldly sounds leaving Murdoc.

Angus was in love, overwhelmed but in love, thankful for everything Murdoc gave him. Pain, pleasure, fear and happiness - Murdoc let him see and experience things that were horrifying yet entrancing at the same time, haunting Angus’ mind.

He did it to spare him from every awful, dark thing in the world - Angus knew that. His former self, Mac, might not have been able to see it, but Murdoc was leading him through it, towards the light.

His arm hurt, it was tied behind his back, tightly wrapped against his other arm, pulling on his shoulders and limiting his movements; letting Murdoc take control, he could do nothing but moan and scream into the pillow that almost suffocated him, drool wetting it.

He was suffocating in blood, in sand, in the dark mud in the bottom of the hole that still haunted his dreams . Murdoc’s hands felt like they were covered in mud, his grunts and moans sounding like growls and howls. Angus couldn’t help himself, snapping at the drool soaked pillow in a desperate attempt to stay alive.

Murdoc was everywhere; the sex toy pressed into his front hole was so big that Angus could almost feel it in his stomach, the toy vibrating inside him - while Murdoc almost violently fucked his asshole.

Prayers and wonderful words were dripping from Murdoc’s mouth into Angus’ skin and he knew it was a blessing, a divine experience only for him.

It was like he was barely in his own mind. He only cared about Murdoc’s pleasure, about the god who was fucking him, using him.

Nothing else mattered but Murdoc.

Murdoc.

He wanted to forget every memory from outside Eden, wanted to forget his past; his childhood, adolescent, he wanted to forget Bozer, Jack, the sand, the pain, he only wanted —

Murdoc.

Murdoc.

His only god.

Chapter Text

Mac didn’t pick up his calls afterwards. His texts were getting delivered but they weren’t read. Never read. He didn’t pick up Bozer’s calls anymore, didn’t read his texts either. It pained Jack to think that he had been the one to ruin the little contact Wilt had to Mac - but when he had told them, both of them drunk, unsure of what to do about everything, the younger man had told him not to worry. That he was happy that Dalton even attempted to get their friend out of the commune; yet it seemed to pain him as well, knowing that the wild world which Mac had disappeared into, had seemed to successfully swallow him.

It wasn’t a good enough attempt for Jack though. His mama didn’t raise a quitter - Jack wasn’t going to let Mac go, not this time. No matter the pain he had felt when his younger friend had refused to leave the place that the cult came home. He had been a coward earlier, overwhelmed with how his sweet man had changed, but he wasn’t giving up this time.

Bozer called a wellness check on Mac, too afraid for his safety, hoping the police would help, that they would realise that something was wrong . He was contacted by the police not too long afterwards and  told that his childhood friend was fine. That he just didn’t want to talk to them.

That there was nothing suspicious going on. Not to worry, not to bother them again, not to harass them. That they were just a bunch of hippies, living an alternative lifestyle - that everyone was doing fine.

Lies. Jack knew it was merely acting.

He had seen Mac himself after all; thin and in pain, looking so different from the strong, happy man he had fallen in love with in the desert. The blue eyes shining with fire and creativity had turned glassy and inhuman - like he wasn’t really there, as if he real self had disappeared into the wild pain they had created.

Noises. They were clashing together in his mind. Ash. His tongue felt heavy, unable to take anything but the lurid taste of ash on it… ash and sand. His fingers shaking, unable to forget the pain, he was unable to find safety in his body.

There were constant explosions of noises in Angus’ mind. It had been a while since he had been overstimulated like this, with everything seeming too much yet too little at the same time.

Sand.

The crescent moon kept him company outside, keeping the otherwise dark community slightly lit up. As if even the moon understood that he couldn’t stand too much light right now.

Ash.

Sand.

Ash.

Ash on his tongue, clumping together with the gritty sand, no matter how many times he rinsed his mouth. Ash. Sand. Poison. 

Murdoc had kissed him softly when he had slid from the bed a little while ago but said nothing to make him stay. Instead just pulling out the drawer in one of the bedside tables, giving Angus his noise-cancelling headphones.

The feeling of nearly drowning. The animal monsters that still haunted his dreams, watching him.

Singing.

Celebrating.

Masked creatures clawing at him as he was led to be sacrificed, they haunted him whenever he was asleep and now when he was awake, Murdoc unable to help him.

The air was cool and caressed the little of his skin that was exposed. Played with his hair and the tall grass surrounding him; he watched the river that had almost swallowed him, watching how the water kept on their continuous movements. He couldn’t hear their whispering lullaby due to his headphones, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t hear anything. He preferred it that way right now.

It had been a month since the wellness check - a police car suddenly appeared at their peaceful haven, clearly confused at the sight of them but otherwise they were friendly enough. They had stepped into their paradise and suddenly reminded Angus about the world outside once again. Looking him over, asked if he was okay - as if they couldn’t see that he clearly was.

Maybe give your friends a call, yeah? Just to let them know you're good.  

Why should he? Murdoc had explained it to him so many times before, but it wasn’t until now that he had truly begun to listen. Because perhaps, Jack and Bozer weren't as great friends as they claimed to be.

He saw no reason to do so - he didn’t consider his words lies, even if they tasted of sand, as he told the cops that he didn’t want to talk to them. That he felt it was harassment as the two men, his former friends, kept trying to contact him.

The stone which he sat on was cold, the chilling feeling crawling up along his body, spreading like blood in the sand. Muddy water seeping into dry clothes. He shouldn’t stay out for too long, he might get a cold, even though he wore sweatpants and his favourite hoodie. If he got sick he couldn’t sleep in Murdoc’s bed, sent to his own white room instead. 

He wouldn’t even be allowed to sleep in the foot end of the bed.

All sounds were blocked out and for a moment it didn’t feel like everything was too much. His gaze stuck in the water, watching its ever changing movement. He began to rock back and forth a little.

It was nice out here. Quiet and simple. The rocking motion gave him a safety he almost couldn’t explain. The idea of stepping back into Murdoc’s home and to crawl beneath the blankets with him, feeling the heat and listening to the breath of his god, began to sound like a better and better idea.

To cuddle up close, to be kissed on the cheek, a husky whisper asking if he was alright, to —

A big hand kept him from screaming; Angus didn’t know who it was touching them, he had been too lost in his own mind, to realise that he hadn’t been alone. Hands on him, more than one person and Angus felt the panic deep into his bones, as he saw some of the masked men that surrounded him. They pulled him away from the stone, away from the river, most noises still muffled by the headphones. 

 “Murdoc! Murdoc!” His screams were swallowed up by the gloved hand that didn’t even flinch when he bit down on it, desperately trying to get free.

He fought everything he could, managing to kick one of the masked faces as they attempted to lift his legs, yet he felt himself freeze when he felt a needle press into his shoulder. By this point, he had felt needles press against his skin and enter his body enough times to instantly know that it wasn’t a good thing. Whatever was forced into his body in the matter of two seconds, wasn’t anything good.