MacGyver Imagines

"Over and Over Again"

A/N: Hi everybody! 🍁 This one is a double request. The story idea was inspired by AkeylaSmith1 , and the song request is from AbigailPiedra1 I know it's taking me forever to fulfill requests lately. I'm so sorry for the delay, but if you have sent me a request I WILL get to it! Thanks for your patience! 🧡🧡🧡
Song: "Over and Over Again" by Nathan Sykes feat. Ariana Grande
Rating: Everyone

***

It must have been the clattering of the oven racks.... or maybe it was the crash when you dropped the cleaning supplies on the floor... or it could have been the sound of what's supposed to be 'the world's quietest vacuum' that woke Mac at 3:30 in the morning.

Rubbing a hand over his sleepy eyes, he meanders down the hallway, feet feeling the cold sting of the hardwood floor. You turn, broom in hand, and meet his sleepy stare in the kitchen. His rustled hair nearly blocks his eyes as he stands there in in his PJ bottoms and old t-shirt.

You really tried so hard not to wake him this time.

You bite your lip in apology. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, kinda."

This is what you do... well, it's what you've been doing at least once a week for the past several months. You can't sleep, so you get up, and you do the only thing that keeps your mind occupied in the middle of the night... cleaning.

"Did it happen again?" he asks knowingly.

"Yeah."

"What was it this time?"

You cringe, refusing to meet his eyes. "I'd rather not say."

"The only way we can try to work through this is if you tell me."

"Fine," you sigh. "It was..... a shark attack."

Mac's eyebrows hike up, and he winces. "Ouch."

"I don't know what's wrong with me! Why do I keep having these nightmares?!"

You grab a sponge and scrub vigorously around the kitchen counter, a strong desire to take your frustrations out on something.... anything.

Mac's face softens, and he saunters over to you, placing a hand cautiously over yours, slowing your movements to a stop.

With frustration boiling inside you, he whispers, "It's okay. Take a breath."

You do as he says, easing up on the sponge as Mac takes it out of your hands and lays it in the bucket nearby.

His hand replaces its position in yours, interlocking your fingers together. "Talk to me."

Leaving your mess in the kitchen, you follow Mac to the living room sofa and plop down in defeat.

Ever since you and Mac got engaged a few months ago, you keep having these dreams... at least once a week without fail. Every time - in every single nightmare - Mac gets hurt. First it was a car crash, then it was an airplane, then the pack of angry gorillas, now... sharks.

"I just don't get it. I think there's something seriously wrong with me!"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Y/N. Maybe it's just cold feet."

"But, it keeps happening. It doesn't stop. The first time it happened I figured it was just a fluke. Even two times didn't seem like a big deal. But, then the third started to worry me.... Now, I'm beginning to lose count."

He brushes your hand, wishing he knew how to make you feel better.

You feel the familiar prick of tears and a stinging heaviness in the back of your throat. You don't want to have to say what you've been thinking, but you know you have to get it out there. You have to ask....