MacGyver Imagines

"Your Side of the Bed"

The next morning, you're up early. So, when Mac gets up, you're already dressed and in the kitchen.

"Morning," he tells you plainly.

"Morning."

Leaning on the kitchen island, you chew on your toast tensely as Mac pours some coffee.

You remember what mornings used to be like when Mac had off work. You'd sleep in, eat breakfast together, goof off, and sometimes you would coax him out of bed to go for a run. It would always turn into the perfect competition as you'd decide to race each other home, saying that the last one there had to make dinner that night.

Unsurprisingly, even if you did happen to win, you'd still have to do most of it. But, you didn't mind. Mac would make up for it by slipping out of the house to go into town and bring home donuts from your favorite bakery.

"So," you clear your throat to slice through the silence, asking hopefully, "I was thinking about going for a run. You wanna come with?"

"I think I'll hang back here and try to get caught up on some things."

Your heart sinks, but you push past it. "Oh, okay."

***

Turns out running is a fantastic stress reliever for you. So, as you tally up the miles throughout the neighborhood, your mind wanders, thinking about when your relationship was fresh and new.

When you two were in college, you made a promise to wait for Mac after he joined the Army. You sent letters back and forth, counting down the days until he came back home. There was never any question about what your future held. You both saw your futures in each other.

So, not long after he got back, you got married. You stood by one another. You shared each other's dreams.

What if that all means nothing now?

"Aren't you even gonna make a sound on your side of the bed? You turn the other way when I turn the lights down. Are you lonely like I'm lonely?"

Later that night, Mac climbs into bed, telling you goodnight and leaning over, giving you just a quick peck on the side of your head. When he turns the lights off, that familiar silence fills the room again.

Finally, after several quiet moments, you force yourself to ask, "Are you happy?"

You're met with another moment of silence as he processes your question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you happy?" you reiterate.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because I'm not," you finally admit.

Mac falls silent yet again.

You sit up, the sheets rustling around you as you prepare for this dreaded conversation.

"Do you remember all the little things we used to do for each other? Like the little notes or the messages throughout the day. They weren't big things, but they meant the world. I keep thinking about all the mornings when you would make me coffee right before you left. You would sit it on the bedside table so that it would be just the right temperature for me when I got up. Why'd you stop? You can't deny that things have changed between us. And I'm not trying to blame you for everything that's gone wrong by any means. I stopped doing things, too. I became complacent, too. But, as hard as I think about it all, I just can't figure out how we got here."

Mac heaves a sigh, sitting up to your level and turning to look you in the eye. "You're right. And I don't know either. I guess, maybe I've spent so much time thinking about everything else in my life that I always assumed we would be fine. We've always been incredible together, and maybe we both took that for granted. We never realized that we'd have to work that hard to keep it that great. I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly am." He takes your hand in his, squeezing gently.

"I'm sorry too," you say.

He can sense the worry on your face and in the way that you're finally expressing every pent up emotion and fear you've been feeling for the past several months. "We can fix this," he affirms. "We're stronger than to just give in."

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you stand up, letting go of Mac's hand for a moment. You move over to the old desk in the corner of the room, opening the bottom drawer. That's when you pull out a stack of envelopes tied together with some string. You begin sifting through them.

"Are those...?" Mac starts to question.

"The letters you sent me when you were in the Army," you affirm, knowing what he was about to ask.

"You kept them?"

"Of course." You pull one out, running your hand over the fold, remembering the first time you opened it.

You climb back into bed. "I've been thinking about this letter a lot lately," you tell him. You open it, looking at Mac. A nostalgic smile spreads across his face.

You read:

"Y/N,

It's been a crazy couple of weeks. I haven't been able to write you in a while. But, now it's the middle of the night, and I'm laying here, staring up at the sky as I write. I can't help but think about how, every single night when we lay down to sleep, we're looking at the same view, even hundreds of miles apart. We're sleeping under the same moon. So, no matter how hard life might be or how busy we may get, I hope we remember that - that simple truth. Let's not forget the beauty that is always around us, within us, and between us.

I love you. I'll see you soon.

-Mac"

When you put the letter down, you hold your hand out to Mac, "Come with me. Please?"

You lead him out to the patio where a slight breeze rustles. You hug yourself, feeling a slight chill dance across your exposed skin. The moon shines brightly on your faces. You turn to Mac, placing a hand on his chest. "I don't want to forget what we have. I don't want to lose that."

He gently rests his forehead on yours, intertwining your fingers in his. "We won't. I promise. Sure, we're changing and growing. But, that doesn't mean we have to grow apart. We made promises, and we broke those promises, but I know it's not too late to fix them."

He kisses you delicately, his lips warm and soft, and the feeling rises throughout your entire body. Your heart beat quickens until the sensation fully engulfs you.

The sensation grows as Mac searches your eyes and melts into you. Then, your heart steadies until both yours and his are beating together, as one.

"Are you still awake on your side of the bed?"

Later, you're lying back in bed. But, this time, you're comfortably lying on Mac's chest, legs intertwined. You're no longer confined by the invisible line that had been separating you. Instead, that line slowly fades as you lay together on his side of the bed.

***

You don't wake again until the next morning, and Mac is already gone.

But, when you turn over in bed, you find a freshly-brewed cup of coffee on the bedside table with a little note next to it.

You smile to yourself, picking up the note and reading:

"The moon won't let us forget."