Sensory Deprivation

by fanotheboyz

Mac is kidnapped by Murdoc, sending the team on a mission to rescue him and deal with the trauma of the event. Probably a 'more than is healthy' dose of H/C, action, building of relationships between characters. For SPN fans, there's a little Easter Egg in here for you, too! I own none of the characters and do not profit from the story. Purely for enjoyment! Rated T to be safe.

A/N: This takes place between seasons 1 and 2, and directly after my first fic, Shelter Without Walls, and probably will make much more sense if you are familiar with that, but it's not absolutely necessary. As promised, there is a plot, and action, and while that is not my strongest skill set, I gave it a shot. Thank you to my beta and mentor, Kelcor, who helped me make some sense of the chaos in my mind!

"Trauma is personal. It does not disappear if it is not validated. When it is ignored or invalidated the silent screams continue internally heard only by the one held captive."
―Danielle Bernock

Chapter 1

The ride home from the mountains was fairly uneventful and the men were quieter than usual. As the jeep bumped along the mountain roads, Jack tried to give MacGyver some space, knowing the kid was probably still processing a lot of what they'd talked about during that week at his father's old cabin. Mac, busy doing said processing, was twisting and bending paperclips as he looked out the window, not really seeing the scenery. His thoughts drifted, deciding how to deal with some of the newer aspects of his and Jack's friendship, most importantly how he had begun to admit to himself that Jack was not only a father figure to him, but that the older man saw himself that way, as well.

His emotions were still feeling a little raw, a little close to the surface for his liking, but finally he'd had some relief to the stress he'd felt for a long time, just keeping all of it from Jack. He mulled over the idea that Jack brought up about seeing a therapist; how he had been surprised that his partner had done so without ever mentioning it before.

"Hey, Jack?" Mac ventured, just loud enough to be heard above the noise of the road.

"Yeah? What's up?" Jack's curiosity was peaked at the kid's wary tone.

"You know how you said you had gone to a therapist…after…"

"Yeah, after Afghanistan," Jack answered, glancing quickly at his passenger and trying to predict where this was going. He was relieved to see his partner appeared relaxed, yet thoughtful, and he hoped this was a good sign.

"Do you still go? I mean, if you want to tell me. You don't have to or anything, I just wondered," Mac asked, thinking he might have overstepped and quickly looking out the window again.

"Yeah, I do. Have an appointment later today. Why?" Jack answered tentatively, and not because he minded sharing that piece of information, but because he didn't know if Mac was asking out of concern for Jack's mental health or considering finally taking care of his own. While they'd talked about therapy before, things always went better with Mac if they were his idea, so Jack had been patient, only having revealed to Mac back at the cabin, that he had gone to therapy after their tour in "the sandbox." Jack's concerns had found their way into his own sessions, so he was pleased his patience may have paid off.

"Do you think it could help? I mean with the dreams…nightmares…I mean more than just talking to you?" Mac asked but he avoided Jack's eyes, looking at his paperclip sculpture.

"It could, I think. Look, Man, if you're uncomfortable about it and you want to see what it's like, why don't you come with me? I could give Wendy a heads-up and…."

"I don't know. I don't want to step in when you're there for .…well, it's probably personal stuff," Mac offered, "but thanks for offering, you know, I'm just thinking about it."

"Nonsense, we're family and besides, not every session is that deep. We could talk a little about last week, if you want; or you don't have to say anything; just get an idea of how it goes. She'd love to finally meet you, anyway," Jack persuaded.

"What do you mean? Do you talk about me?" Mac looked a little alarmed and his voice cracked slightly.

"Well, of course! I talk about all you guys and people from my past, my family, the military….all of it. Depends on what's on my mind, I guess." Noticing Mac's look of alarm, he added, "Don't worry, Man, she's cool. Besides, I only have good stuff to say about you! You know that!" Jack laughed and Mac visibly relaxed again.

"Alright, maybe it would be ok to see what it's like…if you really don't mind," Mac conceded quietly, grinning slightly at Jack. "Maybe I'll finally find out what makes you tick, Old Man!"

Jack laughed, "Not likely. I don't think Wendy has me figured out and I've been seein' her for a few months, now!"

"I thought you'd been going to a therapist for years," Mac said, confused.

"Well, Susan, my old therapist, moved and Wendy took her place. Phoenix had to approve her. They have to approve anyone we see because of the stuff we might have to discuss, so there was a little break there. Guess I started seein' her a few months back. You'll like her. She's easy to talk to," Jack reassured. "Maybe even easier for me to talk to than Susan was," he added.

Mac began to second-guess himself as he sat in the waiting room next to Jack. His leg bounced nervously as he looked around the austere room, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. Jack sat next to him, reading a magazine, studying him covertly, from what Mac could tell.

The kid looked like he'd crawl out of his skin. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a few paper clips thrusting them into Mac's hands, then placed a firm hand on his left knee for a moment to get him to cease the bouncing he probably hadn't realized he was doing. He looked over at his nervous friend and cast a slightly amused smile his way. "Dude, it's ok, really. You don't have to worry about this, I promise," he said, purposely keeping his tone gentle. Mac shook his head slightly and looked away.

"Hey, Jack! Come on in. And you must be Mac?" Wendy, the short, pleasant, forty-ish woman, extended her hand and smiled warmly at Jack's partner and invited them into her office.

As Jack and Wendy talked, Mac found himself amused and interested in the side of Jack that seemed to be more transparent here than in everyday life. He listened as Jack animatedly told Wendy about the week they'd spent at the lake, thankfully being careful to avoid any personal details about Mac, finally revealing that he'd been taken by surprise at how spending time there with Mac had reminded him of being there with his dad.

Wendy nodded and smiled at Jack and Mac felt like his stomach drop to the floor when she turned to him and asked him what he thought about that. Mac's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out right away. He was grateful when Jack stepped in to run interference.

"Now, Wendy, I promised Mac he could just listen in today..." Jack began, worried that pushing his partner might not be counterproductive, but Mac held up his hand to wave him off.

"It's ok, Jack, really," Mac smiled, finding his voice, and nodded at his friend, appreciative that he didn't want him to feel on the spot. "I don't mind." He turned his attention to Wendy and leaned forward on his knees. "It was kind of nice because I know how much Jack cared about his dad," Mac allowed. That seemed safe, he thought.

Wendy nodded and turned her attention to Jack …much to Mac's relief, "You trusted Mac a lot to reveal how the memories of your dad affected you," she observed.

"I'd say we trust each other a lot; been through a lotta crap over the years," Jack smiled and exchanged a knowing glance at Mac, "plus, I really didn't expect to feel that way, so it was kind of unplanned when I got a little nostalgic…surprised us both, I guess."

Jack talked a little more about his dad, but kept it lighter, avoiding carefully any landmines that he knew Mac would rather not explore right then. As they stood to leave, Mac thanked Wendy for letting him sit in and she handed him a card.

"Give me a call if you want to schedule a session. I'd be happy to talk with you any time, Mac," she invited, smiling at him. Mac managed a nod and polite smile as he turned to leave with Jack.

Jack didn't say anything on the walk out to the car, purposefully waiting for Mac to process what was going on in his mind. The kid was quiet and thoughtful. Knowing enough to wait him out, Jack smiled to himself and shook his head a little.

"She's nice," Mac said barely above a whisper, as they reached the car. Mac swallowed and silently admonished himself for his choice of words.

"Yeah, she is… nice," Jack mimicked. Mac huffed a little bit a laugh, knowing Jack was waiting for his assessment of the session.

"I mean, she seemed easy to talk to, like you said. Well, she was easy for you to talk to, anyway," Mac teased. "We'll see," he added as he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

Elsewhere in the world, a phone rang and an assistant picked up the call, nodding at the report he received. "I'll pass it along," was all he said, hanging up. He scurried down the hall, knocking on the slightly open door of the darkened office.

"Do come in," the irritated voice called out. The shadowy figure sitting in the chair with his back to the door received the report and nodded, smiling to himself. "Ahhh," he sighed contentedly, so finally our dear Angus has taken the bait. Excellent. I'll want another report next week." The assistant nodded and quickly made his way out of the room and down the hall to deliver the message.

Chapter 2

Jack was sitting on Mac and Bozer's deck a few weeks later, looking out at the sunset and nursing a beer, waiting for Mac to come home from what would be his third session with Wendy. He had been surprised when Mac said he'd made an appointment and had been trying to support his efforts to take better care of himself, including getting more non-traumatic sleep. The kid had been better since they were at the mountains on R better since he'd gotten some of the built up trauma off his shoulders, but he still had nightmares. Jack knew because he'd hung out at Mac's the first few nights after they'd gotten home and the kid had at least one such interruption a night. Then, even after Mac quietly relieved him of that duty, asking for a little more space, Jack had noticed how tired he was when he arrived at Phoenix in the morning and that he'd had at least an extra cup of coffee each day at work.

Mac's appearance on the deck drew Jack out of his thoughts. "Hey, Man, how you do'in?"

"I'm fine," Mac took a seat on one of the chairs near the fire pit, next to Jack. He sat quietly for some time, trying to think of how to bring up the subject on his mind.

After years of experience waiting Angus MacGyver out, Jack just knew when to be quiet. This was one such time. He waited while Mac's fingers absently drummed on the armrest. And while his breathing changed rates several times as he looked out over the city. Finally..

"She suggested a sensory deprivation tank, Jack," Mac said with a hint of dread. He glanced at Jack, who was looking at him with that 'go on' look. "I told her how sometimes I have a hard time de-stressing, turning off my brain, and how it sometimes keeps me from sleeping or concentrating on what I need to." Mac looked at Jack, then, and waited for his thoughts on the idea. "But I'm not sure."

"So you mean like one of those cocoon-lookin' things with warm salt water in it where you just float in the dark for an hour?" Jack asked, trying to keep any real judgment from his voice.

"Yeah, exactly. I'm having trouble imagining what my brain would do with that. Although Wendy assures me I can turn lights on anytime, stop and get out when I want …I don't know. She says it helps your brain 'unplug' or 'reset' or something," Mac explained a little sarcastically.

"Well, maybe," Jack started carefully, "but I'm not sure she knows your brain, Kid! You might not have the most predictable experience. But, if you can try it and stop anytime, is there really any harm in it?"

"I've never been terribly claustrophobic, but for some reason, it makes me uncomfortable, Jack. I might try it once and see," he conceded, as if thinking out loud. Jack smiled at him and clapped him lightly on the thigh.

"There ya go! It's good to be open-minded. Proud of you, Kid!" Jack beamed at him.

Mac looked at his friend suspiciously, "Why?"

"Well, because you're takin' care of yourself, goin to therapy, considerin' trying this 'depraved tank thingy…'

"Deprivation, Jack, not depraved….please!" Mac huffed a little laugh at his partner.

"Yeah, whatever. You know what I mean. Let's go in and get some dinner. Bozer left us some stuff in the frig. He's working late tonight in the lab."

Mac had agreed to give the deprivation tank a try, had read up on it, including recent studies and both positive and negative experiences of those who'd experienced it. He was apprehensive, but curious. So the next week, he'd agreed to meet Wendy for a tour of the FLOAT facility. They met in the lobby of an upper scale looking boutique with white walls with blue wave designs. The glass desk was under-lit and the concierge/receptionist was a pretty girl with a welcoming smile.

"Why don't we sign in, Mac," Wendy invited, then we can take a quick tour. They passed a few small rooms containing comfortable furniture and low lighting. Wendy explained many people like to readjust gradually to sensory stimuli after being in 'the tank.' They entered one of the empty tank rooms, which contained a glass shower, closet, and a bright and modern looking pod. Wendy explained how clients stored their clothing, then showered, and entered the pod, where they could close the lid and turn off the lights when they were ready. She showed him the light switch, timer, temperature monitor, the water level monitor, filtration system, and the built in sound system where he could choose nature sounds or a variety of soft music.

Mac investigated each feature, silently approving of how much thought had gone into this therapeutic activity and deciding they all seemed up to the standards he'd expected. A vague but nagging discomfort still plagued him. Perhaps it was that it was recommended to go into the tank naked or that he had thoughts of being somehow stuck inside. In his mind's eye, he saw himself panicking and people coming in to rescue him from the tank. Even the imagined mortification gave him the sensation of butterflies in his stomach. Weren't these the very thoughts the therapy was supposed to dispel? Angus MacGyver had never been one to allow any fear to stop him, so he decided to make an appointment and face it head on. He'd be no worse off, if after an hour at the FLOAT center, he left and never returned. And who knows, he might actually like it, even benefit from it.

As he left the center, Wendy smiled at him approvingly and told him how proud she was of him for his willingness to do a session. He was set to come back the next day and she offered to meet him there, if it would make him feel more comfortable. He politely declined, saying he felt a little silly for worrying about it, and he was sure he'd be fine. He agreed to call her after and let her know how it went.

Jack milled around his kitchen, making pasta and sipping a beer. He'd had a day off and no plans, and he was enjoying a little 'me time' when he heard his front door open. He turned down the heat and made his way to the door, seeing Mac enter with a duffle bag and six-pack of beer. "What's up, Man?" Jack motioned to the duffle, clearly confused as to why Mac was showing up prepared to stay.

"I…uh…have an appointment tomorrow…can we sit a minute?" and Mac gestured to the sofa.

Jack automatically sat, concern etching his features, and gestured for Mac to do the same. "What kind of appointment?" Jack asked.

"The tank…you know the sensory deprivation tank?" Jack nodded and Mac continued, glancing at Jack but not meeting his eyes, "tomorrow morning at 10. Bozer's out of town. Wendy offered to meet me there, but…that feels weird. I was at home thinking about it and…"

Jack held up a hand to stop him right there. The kid had been home alone, generating all kinds of fears about the impending tank therapy and didn't want to ask if he could stay at Jack's or if Jack would go with him. "I get it, Brother. You stay here tonight and I'll go with you tomorrow and wait in the waiting room til you're done. I'm not doing anything important at work and Matty will give us the time, I'm sure.

Mac took a deep breath and smiled very slightly, but his relief was evident. He sank back, tipped his head to rest on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. "Thanks, Man. I'm sorry to be such a…such a kid about this, but...I guess I'm more nervous than I thought I'd be. My imagination was running away with me at my house.

Jack got up to tend to the pasta and called over his shoulder, "Come on, let's get some dinner and you can tell me what's worry'in ya about it. Probably so much more your imagination than reality, if I know you!"

Mac felt better already. He found he had an appetite and enjoyed eating pasta and meat sauce, and drinking beer with Jack. He reluctantly admitted to Jack his fears of being locked in the tank, naked, when rescuers arrived. Jack chuckled at that, shaking his head.

"You always were kind of shy, but I think that might even worry me too, so I see where you're com'in from. But, Dude, since when have you ever been stuck in anything you couldn't get yourself out of?" They laughed over it a little, Mac leaning back and stretching and admitting that was probably true.

The next morning, Jack drove. He thought Mac looked a little shaky about the whole thing, but he didn't change his mind, so Jack just figured he'd play his part and do whatever the kid needed. He sat down as Mac signed in, and picked up a pamphlet to read about the therapy his friend was having. Silently, he scoffed at the whole idea, and he definitely had reservations about his partner's reaction to it, but he didn't want to influence the kid, so he kept his concerns to himself.

The secretary offered Mac a complimentary water bottle, which he accepted gratefully, and almost drained, sitting next to Jack and waiting to be called.

"What do you mean, Dalton's there?" the sinister voice screamed into the phone at the informant. "Well, this certainly is going to mean you have to be a lot more careful in orchestrating my plan and you're going to have to move the time table up!" He clicked off the phone and threw it onto his desk, irate at the disruption. Jack Dalton's meddling in my plan again. Well, no time to deal with him just now. I'll get to him after I take care of MacGyver.

"Mr. MacGyver? We're ready for you," one of the techs called from the doorway, motioning for Mac to follow her. Mac got up, casting a nervous glance at Jack, but catching a wink and nod from his partner, steeled himself and followed the young blond woman to the back room. She went through the spiel of where to store his clothes, instructed him to shower and then get in the tank. She started to show him all of the controls, but he stopped her.

"I've had the tour, but thanks. I think I've got it." He smiled politely at her as she left and he looked around, his discomfort growing. He shucked his clothes and hung them in the closet and entered the glass-enclosed shower, thinking just how much he hated those. He felt so vulnerable in an unfamiliar, oversized room, naked, surrounded only by glass. Shaking off the feeling, he hurriedly showered off and grabbed a towel. It was a nice, soft, bath-blanket towel, so he was happy about that and wrapped himself up in it while he opened the…pod…It really does look like one of those cocoon things from the movie, he thought…and made sure all the controls worked. Satisfied, he let the towel slip off and stepped into the chamber.

Chapter 3

He noticed the slippery feel to the water and how the temperature made it almost imperceptible that he was in any fluid at all until he lay back and noticed the bouancy of the two feet of saline. Any movement tossed him to one side or the other and it took a few minutes to learn how to control his body in the tank. He yawned, starting to notice a sleepiness he hadn't quite expected. He grabbed the inflated neck pillow and placed it under his head and neck, then reached for the lid and closed the pod. It didn't feel as small and confining as he had feared.

When he turned out the lights, Mac was met with the most utter darkness and silence he'd ever experienced. He started noticing a feeling of disorientation. He couldn't seem to keep perspective on where in the tank his body was and he reached out to the sides just to locate them. He tried to settle back and let his mind wander but he was feeling so tired and yet afraid to fall asleep in the water. He started to notice sounds that he was sure weren't really there, like clanking and tinny sorts of sounds. Then came the visual hallucinations he'd read about; not scary ones- just geometric images- shapes, rods-that seemed to appear behind his eyelids. He tried to keep his eyes closed and analyze the shapes.

Suddenly, Mac felt what seemed to be the water level lowering. He wasn't sure at first, until he felt his butt touch the bottom of the tank. He reached for the light switch, but it didn't work. Panic started to rise up in his chest and his heart rate quickened, momentarily overcoming the sleepiness he'd felt. He tried to sit up, but the remaining water still buoyed him and he sloshed around, trying desperately to grasp for the hatch opening. He found it, but it wouldn't open! He had a moment of rationality where he kept telling himself, "Relax, MacGyver, think. Jack is in the other room. It's just a malfunction." Then the darkness, the silence, gave way to a sudden shifting of the pod and a loud scraping noise and the muffled sound of a large motor. The tank felt like it lurched and was being lifted with him in it! The water sloshed. Mac sloshed, throwing his arms and legs out to find the sides to steady himself. He finally realized the feeling of being drugged when he had difficulty controlling his movements and his thoughts seemed sluggish. Moments later, he had no choice but to lie back in the tank, his body and mind not responding to his commands, and the darkness enveloped him as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Jack sat in the waiting room, starting to get restless. He'd read through most of the magazines and pamphlets. He checked his watch. The kid had been gone most of an hour, so that was a good sign, right? He stepped up to the desk, but the receptionist was no longer there. He looked around, and seeing no one in the waiting room or behind the desk, he leaned over the counter and called out, "Hello! Anyone back there?" No response. Jack's internal worry meter amped up, because what if Mac needed something and pressed an alarm and no one answered? Jack rounded the desk and peered into the office behind it. No one was there. He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He hated that feeling! Damn! Jack quietly and carefully started down the hall, quickly checking each room on either side. No one. Now, more alarmed, he pulled his gun from his waistband and proceeded carefully to the tank rooms.

There were only three, so he started at the first, opening the door quietly, but the room was dark and seemed in order. The second one was mostly dark, but the outside wall appeared to have a large bay door or hatch to the outside and there was no tank! "What the…" Jack started to himself, now in full alarm mode. He quickly checked the third room, and it was undisturbed, but had the usual tank, shower, etc, so he ran back to the middle room and turned on the lights. He stared at the black skid marks on the floor and the hastily closed large door, which was still unlocked. He opened it, finding a loading dock on the back of the building, but no trucks and no sign of the tank or of Mac. Jack swallowed hard against the sick feeling forming in his gut. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Matty.

"Mac's gone, Matty! He's been taken!" Jack said firmly with tightly controlled panic in his voice.

"Where are you, Jack?" Matty took down the address and answered, "We'll find him, Jack. I'll be right there!"

Jack's phone rang, an unidentified incoming caller. He looked at the screen, dreading answering it, but knowing he had to. "Dalton," he answered in a clipped tone, still barely able to contain his growing concern.

"Jack, is that any tone to use with an old friend? I'm sure we have things to discuss and I would hate to start off…"

Jack cut the caller off, "Murdoc! Shut up and listen to me! You better release my partner, NOW, if you know what's good for you, cause I'm com'in for you!"

"That impolite tone will get you nowhere in our little game, Jack. If you want to find him, you'd better follow the clues, and if I were you, I'd hurry. Poor Angus is just floating in solitary with no company but his own imagination and we all know how overactive that can be. No telling what who could come up with worse atrocities; him or me!"

The line disconnected and Jack threw his phone onto the couch in the waiting room. He'd have thrown it into the wall, but he knew it was his lifeline to any information about his partner, so he curbed that urge. He started searching around the room, looking for clues. He emptied the waste baskets, magazine racks, searched the front desk and went into the office, looking for anything Murdoc's people might have left. Then he had another thought and went back to the room where the tank had been. He opened the closet and saw Mac's clothes hanging there. He winced at the idea that the kid didn't even have his clothes and cursed Murdoc for making Mac feel that much more vulnerable. Going through the pockets of his jacket, he found a folded note that read:

"The test of your friendship is the subject of your search."

Jack shook his head, thinking he'd need Riley and the team to help figure this out. As he sat in the waiting room of the tank facility, he tried to think of how this could have happened. Who knew Mac would be there? He had to find Wendy. He called Matty and asked her to send a team to pick up Wendy for questioning and she agreed. Five minutes later, the boss stood in front of Jack, looking at the note.

"I'm having a team come in here to sweep this site and another is picking up Wendy. Let's get back to Phoenix, Jack. We've got a lot of work to do but we'll find him…and Murdoc," Matty said reassuringly, but she couldn't keep the worry from her voice.

Jack nodded, "I'm gonna kill that SOB, Matty, I swear I will! He better not hurt that kid." Jack shook his head, fighting tears, remembering how he'd encouraged Mac to see Wendy and even to try the float therapy. He was kicking himself for it now, but that wasn't helping Mac, so self-recrimination would have to wait.

Jack slammed his fist down on the desk in front of Wendy, frustration and fear growing by the minute and just wanting answers; wanting to do something. "So help me, God, if you know somethin' about this, Wendy, you'd better tell me right now!" The woman's face was pale and stricken as she stared at her 'patient' in disbelief. "You recommended this therapy for Mac. Besides me, you're the only one who knew he'd be there today!" Jack continued to rant.

"That's not true, Jack! He made an appointment! Any number of people at the facility knew he'd be there! I didn't tell anyone! How could you think I'd have something to do with this?" Wendy pleaded, her brown hair, falling from the bun behind her head. Her hands were shaking and her voice was unsteady. Even Jack could see she was distraught, but that didn't mean she didn't tip someone off or that she wasn't part of someone's bigger plan.

Matty's voice sounded in Jack's ear, "Jack come out of there now. Let's give her time."

Jack nodded and turned one last time to Wendy. "I hope, really hope, you had nothin' to do with this. I sent him to you because I trusted you, Wendy. If you did know somethin' about this, you're culpable in the kidnapping of a federal agent…my friend! This will not go well for you." He turned and stormed out of the room, leaving a scared and shaking therapist in his wake.

"Mac doesn't have time, Matty! We need intel Now! What about the employees of the FLOAT facility? Someone must have seen something or been paid off to leave, or not take any appointments after Mac! They were all gone. Someone has to know something!" Jack paced in the hallway as Matty made calls on her cell to LAPD and the FBI, as they rounded up the employees and questioned them. So far, all of them had a reasonable story, at least from their own perspectives. Obviously Murdoc had orchestrated the whereabouts and alibies for five or so employees.

As she hung up, her phone rang again and she raced into the War Room before answering. "Riley! I need this traced!" Riley nodded and typed frantically as Matty picked up and put the call on speaker. Bozer stood over Riley's shoulder and Jack had followed Matty into the room, all holding their breath as the caller's voice boomed through the room.

"Director Weber! What a pleasure to speak to you, and I assume your team, again! Well, minus one, of course! I had not expected to speak to you again after our assault on Phoenix. Pity that. Well, on to the next adventure; MacGyver is my guest for the time being and I will keep him here with me, until you all arrive! You have…let's see, 24 hours to assemble the clues and find our hero. If you haven't arrived by then, let's just say that the time… and MacGyver… will have expired. Meanwhile, he'lll be treated to some much needed alone time in the FLOAT tank…."

"Murdoc!" Jack interrupted, "I think you know that when I find you… and I will.. I will kill you! But believe me I will take my time about it if you have harmed my partner in any way! He'd better be in one piece when I find him, or so help me.."

"Now, now, Agent Dalton, mind your blood pressure. Your precious intrepid young partner is simply napping peacefully…for now."

Riley shook her head at Matty and whispered, "It's routed through too many servers. I can't find where it's originating. Best guess, within a 200 mile radius of LA."

"Well this has been a treat, my friends, but I must go check on my guest. He's my favorite research project right now. See you all soon." With that the line went dead, leaving the team to exchange glances and see if they could gather any clues from Murdoc's rant.

Chapter 4

MacGyver felt like he was drifting…on a raft or in a boat? In the water? He tried to make out his surroundings but all he could think, or feel, was that he was alone. "Jack!" he screamed once and his voice sounded hoarse and strained. He tried again, "JACK! Help!" he called again, stronger this time, then over and over, he screamed until his voice cracked and tears formed. He fought to stay in control of his emotions but the drug and the lack of any sensory input was too disorienting. The sound of him sloshing in the shallow water was the only one he heard. He thrashed his arms and legs, finding the walls of the pod in the pitch blackness. The tears he had tried to hold at bay, welled up and overflowed, past his battered defenses, and down his cheeks, accompanied by unwelcome sobs, then he slipped back into the blackness again.

Riley tapped her keyboard furiously, pulling up locations that Murdoc might use to keep Mac out of sight in a huge FLOAT pod. Matty looked thoughtfully at each. "Riley, bring up the recording of Murdoc's last call. I want to look at all the possible clues again!" They listened again to the seemingly nonsensical rant, but knowing behind it, that Murdoc always had a game and part of it was to make them work out the problem he presented.

Bozer spoke up, "What do you think he means, favorite research project?"

Riley nodded her agreement, "Seems a little out of place. I think that's got to be a clue." She brought up a picture of the note Murdoc left behind when Mac was taken:

"The test of your friendship is the subject of your search."

Jack's eyes went wide, "Wait! Research, test, subject..I'm seeing a common theme here! Riley can you enter all of those into some kind of search?

"I'm already on it. How far out, 200 miles?" Riley asked with a shrug.

"Had to be reasonable driving distance, so yes, let's say up to 200 miles. I'll be right back!" Matty pulled out her phone and walked quickly to her office, closing the door. Meanwhile, Riley pulled up labs and facilities across the LA area and out for about 200 miles.

"Too many. We've got to narrow this down. Why would he take him to a research facility anyway? We have to think about this. It's not just a place to take Mac. Everything means something," Riley said, pulling up a map with possible locations on the big screen.

Matty stormed back in the room, pointing to one of the locations. "Here! Pull this one up! My CIA source says it's an old black op site. It was a research facility with a cover of an independent testing site for pharmaceuticals, but they did research into unusual psychiatric illnesses in the criminally insane. And guess who was the focus of one of their research studies? A certain psychopath we know who apparently had CIP, otherwise known as congenital insensitivity to pain or congenital analgesia! You guessed it…Murdoc!" All eyes remained locked on Matty as she explained further, "He was locked up for felony charges when they stumbled onto the fact that he seemed to have no pain response when he had his jaw broken by fellow inmates. After he was treated, he was taken to this facility," she said, pointing at the mark on the arial map. "He was tested with non-harmful, but painful stimuli and they validated the diagnosis. That's where he could have taken MacGyver!"

Jack was already out of the room and halfway down the hall as Matty called after him, "Jack! Get back here!"

"Right back, boss. Gotta get something!" Jack went to the Phoenix gym locker room, opened Mac's locker and pulled out his spare duffel of clothes, then did the same at Medical and in Mac's office. It was his habit to keep spare changes of clothes in several places, depending on the situation where he might need them. Jack ran back to the War Room and handed a bag each to Riley, and Bozer and kept one for himself. They looked at him questioningly.

"Dalton, what are you doing?" Matty asked, although her voice betrayed her concern.

"His clothes were left at the float facility. When we find him, I think he'd appreciate some clothes," Jack's voice broke a little as he looked at the rest of the team. Riley swallowed hard and shook her head. Bozer nodded. Matty looked at Jack with new understanding in her eyes.

"We should take some blankets and towels too," Bozer added, "and maybe some fluids and power bars."

"When we get there, we might have to split up, so I want whoever finds him to be prepared," Jack added quietly, closing his eyes tightly against the thought of his partner being subjected to Murdoc's research.

So, MacGyver, how are we enjoying the tank? Murdoc's voice piped into the pod startled Mac out of the drug induced sleep. He opened his eyes to the complete blackness and tried to sit up, hitting his head on the top of the pod. He turned over for the first time since being drugged and frantically searched the pod, his hands coming to rest on the opening clips that remained locked. His heart rate picked up and his breathing came in pants as he tried to quell the growing panic that threatened him. He was still having trouble moving his body in the heavily salinated water, which kept him off balance, flipping him awkwardly on his side.

He wouldn't answer Murdoc- wouldn't give him the satisfaction! He secretly hoped there were no cameras in the tank, although he wouldn't put it past his captor. The thought made him feel even more vulnerable and brought a new wave of nausea. He noticed the water was deeper than when he felt the pod move, the level back to where it was when he entered the pod- voluntarily-had that ever been a mistake!

Don't worry, Angus. You have plenty of oxygen and at the head of the pod is a tube connected to fresh water. That should keep you alive- for now. I'm sure your friends are looking for you. I can't wait until we're all together! You may as well relax because you aren't going anywhere until I let you out. Enjoy the peace and quiet, MacGyver!

The tank went quiet and Mac realized he was incredibly thirsty. Maybe the drugs… maybe the saline pulling fluid from his body. He wanted so badly to drink, but he didn't trust that the water wasn't contaminated. He briefly wondered why he wasn't cold, then realized the water was at least as warm as his body. He lay back, curling on his side to feel less exposed, and trying to control his breathing, and thereby, his panic. Jack would find him. He had to. He wished briefly that Murdoc would have had someone work him over with brass knuckles. He'd have preferred it to this nothingness. He started to see light streaming in, but realized it wasn't really there. He thought he heard humming, low at first, then building in intensity. He couldn't tell if Murdoc piped in a sound or if it was in his own mind. He tried closing his eyes and imagining he were in a peaceful place, but his attempts were thwarted by the appearance of terrorists shooting at him and Jack, then the night Nikki betrayed him and he was shot. Soon his mind replayed the death of his mother, his father leaving, and every other ugly injury and betrayal he'd endured, as he tried to keep the memories at bay.

The movie reel of memories tortured him with the many narrow escapes, injuries, torture, and nightmares they'd endured. He saw Jack's face, eyes swollen shut, mouth bleeding, jaw broken….he shook his head against the images and screamed, screamed until he was hoarse. Finally, his throat hurt so badly, he decided to drink. So what if it were drugged? At least he'd sleep. He reached shaking hands out to find the plastic tubing and moved toward it, taking a sip, then drinking greedily when it tasted normal. Moments later, his body cramped, the edges of his vision greyed. His hands and feet felt numb and tingly. His chest felt tight and he had trouble drawing in a breath. He felt sweat break out on his forehead and bile threatened to come up with a new wave of nausea. He fleetingly thought of the symptoms of a neurotoxin but couldn't quite hold onto the thought process that led him to that conclusion. Finally, as he thought one last comforting image of Jack and his friends rescuing him, he was pulled into unconsciousness.

Chapter 5

That night, as the team made their way to the research facility in the SUV, they discussed their plan briefly, and then silence replaced the planning. Matty assigned a medic, Tom Hansen, to go with them. Tom knew Jack and Mac well, having been on missions with them before and had proved valuable with medical as well as tactical support. All thoughts were on Mac, each trying to keep the ugly thoughts of what he must be enduring, out of their minds. Jack stared into the distance as he drove on.

Riley was worried about Jack, too. She knew he was capable of putting his feelings on the back burner until they got to Mac, but this quiet long drive was unsettling to all of them. She leaned forward and put her right hand on his shoulder gently, leaning forward between the seats to speak quietly to him. "Jack, he's gonna be fine. It's Mac. You know he's gonna be ok. We'll get him out, ok?" She reassured. Jack nodded and put his hand over Riley's but didn't, or couldn't, look at her. His eyes stayed on the road and he nodded only slightly, but Riley noticed that his eyes were glassy. She didn't want him to lose it now, so she patted his shoulder and sat back, exchanging worried glances with Bozer.

Jack stopped the SUV about 10 miles ahead of their destination, turning around to look at the team. "Murdoc knows we're coming. He'll be ready. He probably already knows what car we're driving. I'd say we should try to switch cars, but he could have eyes in any business or bar from here to the research facility." Jack laid out his plan and pulled the car across the middle of the road on a stretch with no buildings in sight. He flagged down the next car, going in the opposite direction and carefully approached the driver, waving a fairly convincing badge. They only used those when they needed to intervene as government agents and couldn't use Phoenix ID. The driver looked nervous, but nodded as Jack spoke.

Moments later, they were headed toward Mac's location in a red sedan, all of their equipment loaded into the trunk. The other driver had been convinced to switch vehicles and return their SUV to the lot where they rented it. Jack had paid him in cash for the inconvenience and for another rental, promising the return of their vehicle in a day or so. Jack hoped, by switching cars in the middle of nowhere, that Murdoc would lose them and their approach might be less conspicuous. As part of the plan, they drove past the facility, which would be on the hill, a few miles from the main road. About 5 miles past, they turned around and took a back road to get them closer, then stashed the car and moved on foot through the dark woods surrounding the building.

Jack was pretty certain the car switch only bought them a few extra minutes. There were going to be people watching the cars going by and for how many miles surrounding the area, he couldn't imagine, but he was sure someone would notice that a car that passed by the lab facility didn't show up eight or ten miles down the road, or wherever the next informant was stationed.

He led the team quietly through the wooded countryside, keeping in mind that he had only one experienced operative with him. Matty had decided to monitor coms from Phoenix's war room so she could call in reinforcements if needed. At least they'd have back up. They were all wearing tac vests but Riley and Bozer weren't used to the extra weight from the protection and the gear they carried. Jack and Tom took more of the weight in their packs. Riley had her laptop, hoping to hack the facility's systems and buy them time to rescue Mac.

Both Bozer and Riley, having received the bare minimum of field training that time permitted, were capable of defending themselves with small side arms and basic hand to hand. Jack and Tom carried explosives, automatic weapons, knives, and ammo; in total, about seventy-five pounds of gear. Bozer had the medical supplies and the clothes they needed for Mac.

Jack was impressed with how well Bozer and Riley were holding up with the combination of heat and stress. There wasn't a complaint from either of them. He knew they were worried about Mac as much as he was. They stopped a few hundred yards from the facility, where the tree line ended and Jack whispered to Riley to get a satellite image up on her rig. Moments later, the team gathered around her to view the overhead in the early morning light. Jack zeroed in on the area of the building where he thought they'd have the best chance of entering undetected and pointed it out to the group.

"Here…" he pointed to a run-down, shed-like structure attached to the back side of the building. "This may have a door to the inside. If not, a little C-4 could create one. Plus, it'd be a distraction." Tom nodded in agreement. Riley and Bozer looked less enthused.

"Jack," Bozer started hesitantly, "Are you sure about this? I mean, won't they come running and bring their friends, as soon as they hear the 'ka-boom?'"

"That's kind of the idea, Boze." Jack looked at his teammate and winked. "Caught off guard and all in one place." Riley and Bozer exchange a glance and nodded their agreement, although hesitant. Jack and Tom shucked their packs, removed the packages of explosives, and moved them to the front of their vests. Once set, Jack outlined their plan of approach. He suppressed his urgency to get to Mac quickly, preferring to make sure Bozer and Riley felt as comfortable with the plan as possible. Everything in him screamed to get to Mac, yet the apprehension about what he'd find once he did was ever-present.

Mac watched as Jack approached the building and threw the explosive inside, turning towards him, ducking down, and motioning for him to do the same. He thought he blast was enough to kill any adversaries inside, and once the smoke cleared, he and Jack entered. Jack took point and Mac followed his partner closely. The blast had left a few combatants standing, though, and shots rang out. Jack went down as Mac watched in horror.

Mac heard himself scream and then woke up, disoriented once again, and in complete blackness. His heart pounded and the burning pain and tension in his chest, back, and legs was overwhelming. His head pounded. He could barely pull in any air and the panic was building with his hunger for oxygen. He had a feeling there was plenty, but couldn't will his lungs to cooperate. He had a vague awareness that he was losing consciousness again, but he was helpless to fight it. He concentrated on keeping his head on the inflated pillow, hoping he'd wake up at some point…preferably above water.

As the team watched and took cover for the impending explosion, Jack hoped his partner would be in some shape to travel quickly when they found him. Riley had estimated they were outnumbered 2:1 from the comings and goings of he building she observed on the sat feed. The shed contained much of the blast, and, as anticipated, the wall now had a suitable sized entryway. Jack and Tom sprayed cover fire for Riley and Bozer behind them, and they all entered the building. Four of Murdoc's men went down and Jack overpowered a fifth to use as leverage to obtain the location of Mac and Murdoc. He ripped the com from the man's ear and put it to his own, listening as Murdoc shouted at his men.

"You fools! I told you to watch the perimeter. There should have been no surprise that they were here. How did you let this happen? Get them and bring Dalton to me," the psychopath ranted.

"Where is he?" Jack asked the man in a murderous whisper. He held the blade of his serrated knife to the man's throat and pressed just hard enough to elicit a wince of pain and look of panic on his face. The man swallowed nervously, hesitated, and then stuttered out, "Second floor….front."

"Take me there," Jack ordered. He glanced at Tom and they shared a nod. The team fanned out, Jack in the lead, and made their way to the second floor via the front stairs. Tom turned and motioned for Bozer and Riley to stay behind, deciding that they would be back-up in case Murdoc had some plan for their arrival. They nodded and took up positions in the adjacent hallway as Tom and Jack made their way toward Murdoc.

Realizing that it was probably exactly what Murdoc wanted, Tom motioned to Jack that he'd be first in when they approached the front of the building. Jack nodded and Tom took their hostage, held in front of him as he breached the room via the double oak doors. Jack followed, awaiting his signal. Shots rang out and Jack heard them hit their mark by the grunts and hisses he heard, so amid the gunfire, he burst in and hit the floor, rolling to his side, gun trained on Murdoc as quickly as he could find him. The thin form of their adversary bent almost in half behind his desk, laughed mirthlessly as he held a remote in his hand. Presumably it was for an explosive device. In the other, he had a hand gun trained on Tom, who was dragging himself behind a chair on the other side of the room, apparently shot in the leg. Murdoc's man lay dead on the floor in the middle of the room. Jack held his fire, but kept his gun trained on Murdoc.

"What do you think you're going to accomplish here, Murdoc? Your men are dead. You're wounded. It's over. Tell us where Mac is and maybe we'll get you some help," Jack knew there was no reasoning with the man, but tried to gain some time to assess how bad off Tom was. Tom caught his eye from across the room and gave him a thumbs-up after briefly surveying his leg. Jack took it to mean the wound wasn't life threatening and nodded at his teammate.

"Why, Jack, it's all about you, don't you know?" The words seemed to slither out of Murdoc's mouth. "You and that young partner of yours. You're hopelessly linked by some GI commraderrie, making it ever so much fun to torture you both with….well, the other's torture, of course! Right now, MacGyver is suffering from extreme deprivation: no touch, no sound, no visual stimuli. I think he'll be lucky to survive the hell of his own making that's going on in his head right now. But I have a quick relief option right here." Murdoc held up the detonation device. "Kill me and the whole building goes with me."

Riley and Bozer stayed put in the intersecting hallway. They could hear a single set of footsteps coming from the stairs towards them. Bozer moved to the other wall of the hallway, so they could face each other and have a better chance of taking down the man. They had practiced this maneuver but both their hands shook, knowing either one of them might actually kill someone. Riley ducked out of the hallway and took her shot. "Missed! Damn it," she swore as she retreated into the hall.

They waited until they heard footsteps again and this time Bozer ducked out and took a shot. His hit center mass and the threat went down. Riley checked the hall on either side to see if there were others. Bozer kept his weapon trained on the man, although the adrenaline left him shaking and barely able to hold the gun. When Riley gave the all clear, he advanced on the man, kicking his weapon away as he approached and noting how much blood was creating a puddle on the floor, he doubted the guy was alive, but he reached down to check a pulse. Finding none, he gagged and moved to the wall for some support. The room swam and he tried to slow his breathing and keep from passing out.

"You ok?" Riley asked softly as she came to stand by him.

Bozer realized Riley had her hand on his back and she was trying to get him to meet her eyes, but he couldn't do it.

"We need to get some cover. There's still at least one other merc in here, Boze," she said gently, pushing him back to the hall where they had been hunkered down. She was a little concerned that he appeared to be in shock and wouldn't look at her. As they turned the corner, shots were fired from behind, just missing Riley and hitting the wall next to her. She dove for cover, pushing Bozer down with her. Without really thinking, she turned and knelt, pulling out her firearm and leveled a shot back down the main hall near the other man's body, where the new threat approached. Riley had been able to barely see where he was as she shot and missed the first time, but this time, she quickly peeked around the corner and fired a calculated shot. She realized she hit the man as he grunted and fell, but he was behind the first merc and she couldn't tell if he was dead or just wounded.

As Riley started to leave the hallway to check on the wounded man, Bozer placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, Riley, wait," he whispered. "We'll go together. I'm ok." Riley nodded and he gathered himself and took a position next to her as they crept out of the hallway, keeping low to the floor. As they got closer, the man was so still, Bozer was sure he was dead and he exchanged a glance with Riley to see if she was thinking the same thing. As he did so, the guy sat up and shot, winging Riley on the shoulder. She went down with a cry of alarm and pain and Bozer fired, hitting the man and watching him fall. "You ok, Riley?" She nodded wordlessly as she gripped her shoulder with the other hand and Bozer crept towards the downed man to make sure he was no longer any threat.

When Bozer returned, he had the merc's weapons and knelt to check on Riley. She nodded and he eased her button down and tank strap off her shoulder to have a look.

"Thanks. I'm good. Hurts but I don't think it's that serious," Riley ground out. It appeared to be through and through and Bozer winced at the blood oozing out. He pulled out the medical kit and applied sterile gauze to both wounds with as much pressure as he dared. Riley winced but brought her hand up to hold pressure on the front wound as best as she could. Bozer leaned to help her under her good arm and they made their way towards the front of the building where they could hear the noise of their teammates.

Chapter 6

Mac watched, sad and scared, as his father tended to his mother. She lay in bed, thin and gaunt, barely conscious, as his father dabbed at her forehead with a cool cloth and spooned a few ice chips into her mouth. He didn't think either of them knew he was there, but his father leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. He turned then, and motioned for Mac to come over. He felt like his feet were made of lead as he took one step then another toward his mother. She motioned for him to come close to her, to climb up into her arms. He moved to lie down beside her and she closed her arm around him, pulling him weakly toward her. He sighed and settled his head against her shoulder. He could smell her scent and feel the softness of her skin. He felt her breath against his hair and closed his eyes, a tear escaping down his cheek. "It's ok, Mommy; I'm here. I'm here," he soothed. His father began crying softly and Mac didn't know what was happening. Suddenly, he realized his mother was no longer holding him. Her arm was lax and she wasn't breathing. He moved to sit up and look at her, but his father came around to his side of the bed and picked him up gently, holding him to his chest.

"It's ok, Buddy, Mommy's asleep now." Then his voice cracked and Mac heard a sob escape from his father and he cried his own tears silently, hugging his dad as he was carried to his room. "Go to sleep now, Son. I'll take care of Mommy," his dad's voice sounded so broken. When Mac was alone in his room, he buried his face in his pillow and sobbed.

Jack and Tom exchanged glances and a brief hand signal. Tom shot out one of the windows and while Murdoc was distracted, Jack aimed at the arm holding the detonation switch. Murdoc screamed as Jack hit his mark and he dropped the detonator. They all dove for cover, but the switch apparently didn't flip as the device skittered across the floor. Tom grabbed it as Jack went after Murdoc, knocking him out with a sharp right to his jaw. Jack secured the unconscious psychopath with zip ties- many extra for good measure-while checking on Tom. "You good, Man?"

"You bet. Better now that we got him. Be better still when we get the kid back," Tom replied. Their coms fritzed and Riley's voice could be heard quietly.

"You guys ok? Everyone secure?" She knew her voice betrayed her breathlessness and winced when Jack noticed.

"Ri? What's wrong? Boze, you there? You ok?" Jack's voice was tight with concern, but he didn't dare leave Murdoc unguarded with Tom injured.

"We're good, Jack," Bozer managed. "On our way to you now. Two more bad guys down."

Jack's eyebrows rose to his hairline and he exchanged glances with Tom, both surprise and pride registering on his face. "Damn! You kids have been busy!"

Bozer's voice came back, "Where's Mac?" he asked tiredly.

"Just wrapping up Murdoc, Buddy. Finding Mac's next on the agenda. Meet us at the end of the main hall on your right." Jack went to check on Tom, not taking his eyes off Murdoc. Tom waived him off, tying a bandana around his thigh.

"It's just a graze, Jack. Didn't hit anything major. I'm ok. We gotta go," Tom reassured him. Then Tom froze, his gaze going to Jack's side, were a bloodstain was blooming. "Uh, Jack, looks like you're hit, buddy. Let me take a look at that."

"What? I didn't…well, I guess I just didn't feel it…til now, anyway," Jack said, looking down at his left side, low on his rib cage. "I think it's pretty superficial." Tom pulled out a small first aid kit and made quick work of checking the wound, cleaning it lightly, and applying a bandage to Jack's side. The wound was muscle-deep and blood still oozed from it, but it wasn't life threatening.

"That'll have to do for now, but I think you're going to need stitches and antibiotics, Jack. Try not to strain it too much. It's going to bleed." Jack nodded to Tom and pulled his shirt back down over the dressing. Then he addressed his comments to Matty on his comm.

"All clear, Matty. Murdoc's in the bag. We're going to find Mac," Jack reported in.

"Good job, Jack, all of you! Let's get our boy and get home!" Matty couldn't conceal the relief in her voice or her still evident concern for Mac.

When they met up in the hallway, Jack took one look at Riley and froze. He took in the blood on her shirt and the way she held her arm to her side, the pained expression. He looked around to make sure all was clear and ran the rest of the distance to her. "Ri! You got shot? Are you ok…here, lemme look at that!" Jack rushed out. His face was all fear and concern at this point, so Riley seemed inclined to cut him some slack when he reached for her arm.

"No, Jack! Don't try to touch it! I've got the bleeding stopped; it's ok. It hurts, but it's not that bad," Riley put up her good hand to keep him at arm's length. Her shoulder was still throbbing but it had settled down a little and she didn't want it to start in again.

"Geez, girl, at least let me make a sling for that," Jack said as he pulled yet another bandana from one of his many pockets. He made a sling for her and, as he tied it around the back of her neck, he said quietly in her ear, "We'll get this taken care of properly at a hospital. Soon as we can stop, I'll dig out some pain meds for you. You did real good, Ri…Real good! I'd hug ya, but.."

"Thanks, Jack, but no hugging til this is less painful, ok? Thanks for the sling, old man." Riley graced him with a lopsided smile and then noticed the blood on Jack's side and Tom's leg. "Are you guys ok?"

"More or less," Jack shrugged and smiled slightly, nodding at Tom. Tom returned the nod and motioned for them to go.

The team searched each room on the second floor, but no pod, no Mac. They moved to the first floor, careful to make sure there were no straggler mercs. Jack had reasoned the tank was too difficult to move and had to be on the first floor. They had dragged the mostly unconscious Murdoc with them, afraid to leave him unguarded for even a minute. He managed a moan and then a slithery, bloody smile as they found the room containing the pod.

"Jack! Take it easy, Man. Check for any surprises," Tom reminded. Jack nodded tersely and felt the pod all around for any wires or connections besides the water and air supply. He checked the hinges and realized that pins had been placed to keep it locked from the outside. Motioning for Bozer and Riley to guard Murdoc, he spoke to Tom.

"Man, get a blanket, ok? I'm gonna open this and I want it ready. Oh," he said almost as an afterthought, "kill the lights for me. Light is bound to be painful after being in the dark like this." Jack winced at the thought, but placed his hands on the pins and took a deep breath as he slid them and cracked the pod open.

Tom brought the blanket over and Riley and Bozer watched from across the room, in the dim light from the window, not knowing what to expect. Everyone held their breath. Jack held a gasp back as his eyes came to rest on Mac in a fetal position on his side. He was curled toward the hinges of the pod, away from Jack. There was still almost two feet of water in the tank and Mac's head lay on an inflatable pillow. He looked so pale and Jack noticed the tremors right away. He gently placed his hand on Mac's shoulder and turned the kid gently towards him, grabbing the blanket and throwing it over him, not worrying about it getting wet.

"Mac, it's ok, Buddy, we're here. It's me, Jack. I'm gonna get you outa here, Bud. Hang on." Jack noticed that while fine tremors coursed through Mac's body, his eyes were closed, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he made no move that indicated he even heard Jack. Still, he kept up the reassurances as he gently placed his hands under Mac's shoulders and knees and, ignoring the strain to his injured side, lifted him out of the tank and onto the floor, where Tom had placed another blanket. Tom made a move to help him, but Jack almost visibly pulled away, shaking his head and glaring at his teammate. "I got him, Tom. Thanks," he said curtly.

Tom closed the pod and Jack knelt next to Mac, carefully checking for any injuries and covering him again with the blanket. The kid had a strong pulse, he noticed, and was breathing, but unconscious. From drugs or trauma, Jack couldn't tell, but he reached down and pulled Mac into his arms and against his chest as Tom prepared an IV. Jack held his partner's head against his neck and whispered soothingly to him. "It's ok, Mac, Tom's just gonna start one of those IV's you love. You're a little dehydrated, Bud, but you'll be ok. You'll be ok, son. I've gotcha now. I've gotcha."

Tom placed a gentle hand on Jack's shoulder then, and when Jack startled and looked up, he realized there were tears on his own face. He didn't want to let go of Mac long enough to wipe them and he was long past caring if anyone saw him. He had the kid back and he wasn't letting go.

"That's so touching, Jacky boy; so sweet," rasped Murdoc with a sick grin on his face.

Jack's back was to him, but when he heard the voice, he closed his eyes tightly, not willing to allow their prisoner the satisfaction. Just the sickening sound of Murdoc's voice made him hold Mac tighter. He heard a sudden crack of a fist hitting bone and looked around. Bozer knelt over Murdoc, fist cocked back, as it recoiled from the first punch to Murdoc's jaw, ready to strike again. Riley reached out and held his arm, shocked at the anger she saw in his face. Her fearful gaze stopped him from taking another shot.

"I got this, Jack. How is he?" Bozer asked, his voice full of concern for Mac and anger for the man he was now holding by his collar.

Jack cleared his voice as a slight grin crept over his features. He never moved from facing Mac; never let the kid slip from his arms. "He's gonna be ok. Good job, Boze. Good job."

Bozer tossed Tom the pack with Mac's clothes and Tom and Jack gently dressed him in shorts and a tee shirt, then bundled him in the driest of the two blankets. Tom assessed Mac further as they quickly got him ready to move. He seemed unresponsive to anything they did or said, but tremors wracked his slight frame and his face was still damp with fresh tears. Jack crouched and reached down to pick Mac up and lift him, standing with Mac's dead weight in his arms as Tom took the IV.

"Jack," Tom cautioned, nodding toward the now freshly bleeding wound on Jack's side," You carrying the kid is going to stress that wound. You're bleeding again. Why don't you let me…I mean my thigh is just a graze and…" Jack cut him off.

"I got him, Tom. Thanks. You can patch me up in the chopper. I'll make it." Jack's voice held no room for argument. It was clear he wasn't giving up Mac's care to anyone just yet. Tom nodded and took the IV and prepared to leave.

Bozer half dragged the barely conscious Murdoc and the group made their way toward the back of the building. They didn't see any more mercs, so their trip out of the building was less eventful.

"Boss, we're out. We got him. He's alive. We got two GSW's, walkin'. Give us some exfil details. I'm carryin' the kid. We're not gonna make it back through the woods," Jack reported to Matty, a little breathlessly, as he adjusted Mac in his arms. Matty told him she'd have the helicopter pick them up in a field near the facility and the group slowly made their way there.

Bozer entered the chopper first, pulling Murdoc in behind him-none too gently- and cuffing him securely in one of the seats then buckling him in. He helped Riley in and Tom followed her, reaching down to Jack to take Mac while Jack got in. Jack reluctantly allowed Tom to take him, but only until he got in and settled in a seat. Then he motioned for Tom to hand Mac over and Jack settled him across his lap, holding him securely as Tom buckled them in and hung the IV up. Tom got a larger and thicker compress from the larger first aid kit and met Jack's eyes.

"You're bleeding pretty good, there, Jack. Let me get this against the wound with some pressure," Tom persuaded gently. Jack didn't respond; just stared at Mac's unconscious form in his arms. Riley spoke up.

"Jack, please. Let him help you. You're not going to be any good to Mac with more blood loss." Riley pleaded.

Finally, Jack nodded but didn't move to help and didn't take his arms from around Mac, just adjusted his left arm so Tom could get the dressing under his shirt. Tom secured the thick gauze with a swath of cloth around Jack, tying it as tightly as he could and watching Jack's face to know when the pressure was too much. The slight wince was all he got to tell him it was just right and he let well enough alone, pulling Jack's shirt down over the dressing.

The flight back to LA was quick, only 10 minutes or so, but the rest of the team noticed that Jack probably checked Mac's pulse at least that many times. The set of his jaw told them his only interest in those moments was his partner's welfare. The only words he spoke were to Mac, who occasionally moaned or grimaced and turned slightly toward the safety of the man holding him.

Chapter 7

Jack sat in the chair in Mac's hospital room, leaning forward, as much as his side wound would allow, his hands on the bed. The room was darkened to allow for less stimulation and irritation to Mac, given the situation. Mac lay unmoving in the bed, curled on his side, tucked securely under the covers that Jack periodically straightened, just to feel like he was doing something for the kid. Jack had protested enough, given Mac's situation, that they left him in his tee shirt and shorts and did the cursory exam without disturbing him much. Jack had argued that the kid had lost any and all control over his mental and physical state the last day or so and he didn't want him traumatized further, even if he seemed to be unconscious.

The doctor had ordered blood to see what they had drugged him with and the IV was kept to keep Mac hydrated. Since he was not responsive, they insisted on a catheter, the very thought of which made Jack nauseous, but he understood the reasoning, even though the kid would hate waking up with it. Save the time it took to bandage up his side, it was the only time Jack left the room to afford his unconscious partner the privacy he knew he'd want. Since then, Jack had spent about 8 hours in that chair, holding Mac's hand, talking to him, trying to get him to fight his way back. The exhaustion was getting the best of him and his worst fears of what the kid had experienced and what drugs he was given prayed on his mind.

When Riley entered the room, Jack didn't acknowledge her at first. His face was in his one palm, the other holding Mac's hand, and Riley noticed his shoulders shaking slightly. She placed the duffle and bag of take out she held on the floor next to Jack and moved to stand behind him. In an uncharacteristic move, she reached around him with her good arm, hugging him, and placing her chin on his shoulder. "He'll be ok," she whispered. Jack nodded but didn't look up. "I brought you some clothes and a towel, some shaving stuff. Why don't you go take a shower and have something to eat? I'll sit with Mac. I brought a book to read to him. It's The Hobbit. I think he likes this stuff and it's kind of soothing." Riley went on for a few minutes talking about the book and how her mother read it to her. She just kept talking until Jack collected himself and reached for her hand, which was now on his shoulder.

"I don't want to leave him, Ri. It's like he's lost in his own mind, which is probably pretty scary based on what he's been through. I need to get him back…I don't know how," Jack squeezed his eyes shut tightly and swallowed hard.

"Jack, he'll come back; you know he has to be trying to find a way. But you need to take care of yourself. I'll stay with him." With that, Riley took the book from her pack and went around the other side of the bed and got in the bed next to Mac, sitting up with her hip against his back, and stretched her legs out next to him. She chanced a wink at Jack, who looked a little confused by her actions, and she gently placed a hand on Mac's shoulder. "So, Mac, I brought a book I thought you'd like. It's The Hobbit. Remember how we talked about it once? Just focus on the story, ok, and try to wake up and tell me to shut up if I bore you." Riley began reading quietly, holding the book with the hand that poked out of her sling, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack get up, seemingly satisfied Mac was in good hands, and grabbed the bag of clothes. He straightened slowly and strode out of the room, stopping for a moment at the door to look back at the two of them and Riley shared a smile with him quickly before he took off down the hall to find a nurse to tape plastic over his bandage and get a much needed shower.

Mac was running as fast as he could. He knew Murdoc was behind him. He hid in an alley, out of breath and weak from days of being captive and unable to move. He could hear Jack and Riley. He was close now. He tried to see toward the end of the alley, toward the direction of the voices. Jack sounded so tired. Riley was…reading? It couldn't be, but it sounded like a book from his childhood. Was it…The Hobbit? He couldn't see or hear Murdoc now and Jack and Riley seemed closer. If he could only make his way to them. His feet felt like lead and he was so tired, but he started moving again. He had to get to them.

As Riley read, she absently reached over and smoothed Mac's hair, dared to run her hand in circles on his back, and in general, kept some soothing contact with him. She thought for a second that she felt him lean back against her slightly, but couldn't tell if it was just unconscious movement. A few moments later, she felt it again, and this time, Mac leaned back against her leg and she heard a soft moan. She stopped reading and turned her full attention to him, leaning over to see if he was awake, but his eyes remained closed. "Mac, are you awake? It's Riley. Can you hear me? C'mon, Mac, you gotta come back. Just open your eyes." Riley continued the light circles on his back and speaking to him softly. Finally, she saw his eyelids flicker and he turned onto his back with a groan, resting against her leg.

"Ri?" he croaked in a hoarse whisper. His eyes fluttered open and he startled in the dim light, not sure where he was.

"Hey, Mac!" Riley was holding his hand now. "Welcome back. You're in a hospital, but you're ok. You've just been having trouble waking up, but you're ok. You want a sip of water?"

Mac nodded but didn't let go of her hand. She felt badly that he appeared so disoriented and vulnerable. She knew he hated that. She kept talking quietly so he could get his bearings. She had to let go of the one hand holding his, as she reached out to grab a cup of water on the nightstand. It had a straw in it already and she held it to his mouth. His lips were so dry, he had trouble even sucking in a sip of water, so she held the cup to his mouth and he took a sip, swallowing a little and some running out of the corner of his mouth. Riley grabbed a tissue and dabbed at his chin. He let his head sag once more, against the pillow. Finally, his eyes came to rest on her. She could tell that he was just trying to process and just sat quietly to give him a minute. He tried to move in the bed and winced. "What is it, Mac? Does something hurt?" she asked. He didn't respond to her question but looked at her sling with a questioning look.

"It's ok, Mac, just a little ding. I'm fine," she reassured. He closed his eyes and opened them again, acknowledging her then looked around the room and toward the door.

"J…k?" He whispered. Riley noticed a tear rolled down one cheek and she wasn't sure if it was just how gravelly his voice was that made his eyes water or emotion that he just couldn't express. She thumbed the tear from his cheek as he met her eyes for just a second and looked away, she guessed, embarrassed, by the flush that crept up his pale face. Still, she kept her palm against his cheek for a moment to reassure him.

"Jack?" she asked. Mac nodded. "I just sent him to take a shower and change. He should be back in a minute. I'd text him, but then we'd risk him running down the hall in a towel to get here and check on you, so if it's all the same to you, let's let him finish, ok?" she grinned at him and he nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. He closed his eyes and moved his hand toward the book she'd left on the bed making a failed attempt to push it toward her. His movements seemed clumsy as if he couldn't get his body to work. Riley nodded. "I get it. Ok, I'll read some more. You like this book, huh?" she asked, picking up The Hobbit again. There was no response, but she started to read again, anyway, the book held in one hand, the other still holding Mac's. Moments later, he'd drifted off to sleep again.

Riley heard Jack whistling as he walked toward the room. As he rounded the corner, she motioned for him to be silent with a finger to her lips. Jack froze, noting Mac had changed positions and his hand seemed to be holding Riley's. He cautiously approached the bed and Riley stopped reading, meeting his concerned gaze with a smile.

"He woke up!" she whispered, "He took a drink of water and then fell back to sleep. He asked for you, but he was ok when I told him you just went to take a shower."

Jack brought his hand to his mouth and he scraped it over his face and hair, feeling a sting of tears behind his eyes. He nodded and sat in the chair he'd vacated earlier, placing a shaky hand over Mac's. Jack nodded at Riley and smiled, clearing his voice, and whispered, "Well, you better keep readin, then, Lil' Girl." Jack listened as Riley read to Mac. He noticed just how relaxed his face looked then, an obvious change from earlier, when even unconscious, his expression had looked pained.

If he'd had to admit it, he wasn't really listening to the story, but noticing the sound of Riley's voice, how she took care to keep it soft and soothing, how she kept contact with one side of Mac's body and held his hand. He couldn't help but feel so proud of her that he wanted to burst. In that moment, Jack knew that he could not have loved her more if she had been his own daughter and he felt that he was getting a rare look into the softer side of her that she rarely, if ever, let anyone see. It seemed he wasn't the only one who had protective instincts when it came to Mac. Jack reached down and grabbed the sandwich Riley had brought for him out of the bag, and finally ate it, listening to her read The Hobbit, and felt himself finally relax a little.

About a half hour passed and Mac stirred, gripping both their hands again and opened his eyes. He glanced at Riley first, who stopped reading and motioned with her head toward Jack. Mac turned his head slightly and his eyes lit up, seeing Jack. "Jack," he ground out. His eyes filled and he tried to move in the bed but Jack stopped him, getting up out of the chair and leaning over him.

"Yeah, Buddy, it's me. It's ok. You're ok." Jack reached over and wiped a stray tear that had escaped Mac's lower eyelid, but left his own unchecked. "Hey, Ri? Could we have a minute, Hun? Do you mind?" he asked, not daring a look at her just then.

Riley smiled at Mac and squeezed his arm, "I'll be back in a little while. Try not to tire out the old man, Mac." She winked at him and left the book on the bedside table and left to take a walk, closing the door behind her.

"Ja..ck?" Mac asked. "Wha…t?" Now Mac looked at his partner, meeting his tear-filled eyes with concern. He couldn't seem to get the words out or even form them in his mind right now, but he knew the look on Jack's face scared him a little.

"It's okay, Mac. I'm okay. Just glad to see you awake, Buddy. You don't have to talk. We'll just sit a while and…hey! How 'bout something to drink? You look kind of dry." Mac nodded. Jack went around the bed for the cup of water and sat where Riley had been on the edge of the bed. He held the cup to Mac's lips and he managed a few sips. The look on Mac's face about killed Jack. He couldn't remember seeing his expression so open and vulnerable. Mac looked down, taking in the sight of his tee shirt and his questioning look said it all. "Oh, you're probably wonderin' about the absence of the usual designer hospital wear…well I figured you would appreciate wakin' up in your own clothes. Didn't want anyone doin' more to you than they had to, you know. I figured…well, you know." Jack smiled a little sheepishly and looked down, putting his hand over Mac's again.

Mac's expression was one of gratitude and his mouth turned up just slightly as he nodded his thanks. It was about all he could manage and he hoped Jack knew just how much it meant to him that he made the attempt to leave him what little dignity he could. It spoke volumes, too, of the 'Papa Jack' mode he must have been in to get the docs to agree to it. Somehow, though, they'd managed to put a catheter in and Mac squirmed a little uncomfortably and made a face. He'd be happy to be rid of that ASAP since now he was awake and could take care of peeing on his own, thank you very much. Well… maybe. His body wasn't exactly cooperating and his mind was pretty fuzzy. He had a vague memory of being drugged in the tank and the muscle spasms and burning pain that followed. He realized maybe the effects of the drug were causing his difficulty getting everything working. His head still pounded and he felt anxious and exhausted at the same time.

Jack noticed the grimace as Mac moved and the concerned look that followed. "What is it, Mac? Something hurting?" He noticed the flush creep up his neck and Mac's eyes glance just for a second toward his lower half. "Oh, the catheter? Yeah, I'll call the nurse and see if they can get rid of that, ok?" Mac glanced at Jack and nodded.

Jack hit the call bell and a few minutes later, was standing in the hall while the nurse took care of that issue. When he came back in, Mac looked both relieved and mortified at the same time. "Yeah, Buddy, I know. Not the most fun thing, but it's over. I'm gonna ask the doc to come in and talk to us about when you can go home, right?" Mac let out an exasperated sigh and nodded. Jack wanted nothing more than to bundle him up, put him in a wheelchair right then and escape the hospital so the kid could be looked after in privacy…at home.

"Mr. MacGyver was given a neurotoxin that affected his muscles, hence the difficulty gaining full control yet over all of his movement, functions, and speech. It's not one we're able to identify specifically…probably a designer drug. The levels we detected at first were moderate, but have decreased markedly over the last 24 hours, so I'm hopeful that it should be worn off completely in the next day or so." The doctor nodded and smiled at Mac, who returned the expression with one of relief. "We'd like to keep you here until we're sure you have full control over your muscles and bodily functions; can swallow, talk, move, etc..," then you can go home and recover there and your usual doctor can resume your care." To Mac's questioning look, he responded, "Possibly as soon as tomorrow, but we'll see." Mac resignedly nodded. Jack thanked the doctor and walked him out to the hall.

"Doc, the kid hates hospitals, and God knows he's spent enough time in them, so as soon as you see fit, I'd like to get him home. I'll keep a good eye on him; I promise," Jack emphasized with his most earnest expression.

"Mr. Dalton, I promise, as soon as I'm confident the toxin is at a minimal level and your friend is in no danger, I'll be happy to release him to your care." He grasped Jack's shoulder and gave him a knowing look. "I'm sure you and he have been through enough together that you are probably the very best caregiver I could hope for. So don't worry. He'll be home under your supervision probably by morning. I just didn't want to say that and get his hopes up." The doc and Jack shared a smile and Jack appeared relieved and finally took a full breath as he watched the man walk down the hall.

Jack sat by Mac's bed again. It looked like he was sleeping, but his expression didn't look relaxed enough. "I'm sorry you have to stay a little longer, Bud, but you'll be home soon. You know I won't let you be here one more minute than necessary, right?"

Mac barely nodded and tears slid down his cheeks from closed eyes. He tried to raise his hand to swipe them, but couldn't get his hand to move that far, so he turned away from Jack and shook his head. Jack wasn't having any of it. He reached over and turned the kid's face toward him with one hand and wiped his palm over Mac's cheeks with the other. "Look, now, it's gonna be ok. I know how independent you are and that this is frustrating as hell for you right now, but it ain't gonna last. That stuff's gonna be outta your system in just hours," Jack reassured. "Meanwhile, you got me!" and Jack grinned as foolishly as he could, trying to lighten his friend's mood.

Mac grinned and huffed a little laugh, although the tears hadn't completely stopped yet. Jack got up and went into the little bathroom in the corner by the window. He wet a washcloth with cool water and brought it back, sitting down again on the bed, and dabbing at Mac's face. Mac graced him with an embarrassed eye roll and then tried to ask the most pressing question on his mind.

"Mur…doc?" He managed.

"You're safe, Man; he's locked up. We got him. He's wounded. You'd have been proud of Bozer, Man; he clocked him square in the jaw just for bein' snarky with yours truly!"

Mac nodded and took a deep, relieved breath, then his eyes opened wide as he remembered being locked in the FLOAT tank and he couldn't remember getting out of it. "Who…got…who f'nd…" Then he shook his head in frustration. This must be what it's like when you have a stroke. I need to ask him who found me. Oh my God, I hope not…

"Shh, it's ok. Tom and I opened the tank and threw a blanket over you right away, then we got you dressed before we left the building. No one saw anything; I promise, ok?" Jack tried to be reassuring. He had known the kid was going to be embarrassed about this. Mac nodded and gave him a grateful look.

"Thanks, Ja..k" he muttered. Then the tears started again and he was mortified that a sob escaped him, but he couldn't hold it back anymore. It was just the relief; to be safe, to be out of the tank, to know everyone was ok. And then there was the frustration that he couldn't control his speech or movements yet. He knew the drug was messing with his emotions but that didn't stop the onslaught. He turned toward Jack and curled onto his side. Jack turned around, his back to the head of the bed and leaned back, stretching his legs out and pulling MacGyver into his side so the kid's shoulder rested under his arm with his head on Jack's shoulder and chest. Mac was aware of Jack's reassuring warmth and scent and the feeling of safety it evoked. Finally, he let himself relax into Jack's side, as the older man carded his fingers through his hair and held him close. The tears came freely then, and Mac didn't even try to stop them.

Jack sat quietly, holding the kid securely, relieved to know he was on his way back, but still nervous, not knowing if all of the symptoms would resolve. He knew it had to be hard for someone with Mac's mind to not be able to speak and express himself. Soon, he'd cry himself out and relax and rest. Maybe there'd be some relief in letting a bit of it go. He just held on, reassuring him quietly. "I gotcha, Kid, I gotcha. You know I'm not goin' anywhere. Just let it go now. Pretty soon, you'll be able to tell me anything you want. Right now, just rest." When he felt the sobs slow down and felt his young friend's body relax against him, he closed his eyes and rested his own head back against the top of the bed and drifted off for the first time in two days.

Riley left Tom's room, satisfied that he was being discharged after some minor surgery to repair the flesh wound to the thigh. Thankfully, no major blood vessels or nerves had been affected. Matty was sending a car and the nurse had him in a wheelchair ready to go. Tom waved her off, telling her to go check on Mac and he'd see her back at Phoenix Medical. When she got to his room, she noticed the door still closed and tapped very lightly as she cracked it a bit. Inside, the room was darkened, but in the dim light, she could see Mac curled up to Jack's side, both of them sound asleep. It tugged at her heart how protective Jack was over Mac and how Mac rarely allowed himself to be this unguarded, except with Jack. It was a testament to her of the bond they developed under some horrendous conditions she'd only heard a fraction of. She smiled to herself and closed the door, deciding to ride with Tom back to Phoenix.

Chapter 8

Jack felt the bed dip and the sudden movement had him awake instantly, just in time to see Mac trying to sit on the other edge of the bed. "Mac! What the hell are you tryin' to do, Kid?" Jack jumped up and ran around the other side of the bed, gripping Mac's shoulders. The kid already looked exhausted and all he'd done was to sit up and put his feet over the side of the bed.

"Bathr…m" Mac looked flustered and met Jack's eyes, pleading for him to understand. "Plee..s, Jaaa…k"

Ok, so not speaking in complete sentences yet, but at least he knows what he wants and can sit up on his own, "Ok, ok, lemme help. Here we go." Jack put an arm around Mac's back and the other on his chest and supported him as he stood up. He wasn't able to support his weight on his own and if Jack hadn't had a good hold, he would have ended up on the floor when his knees buckled. Mac looked like he was putting all his effort into it, so Jack did too, and soon, he took a few steps toward the bathroom. By the time he got there, he was sweating and nauseous from the effort and holding onto Jack's shoulder to keep from collapsing. Jack managed to get him into the bathroom.

"Ok, Bud, I suggest you sit for the rest of this adventure and I'll get ya a wheelchair for the return flight, ok?" Mac rolled his eyes and nodded as he managed to take care of nature's call on his own, and then waited for Jack to come back with the chair.

When Jack got him settled back in bed, breakfast arrived and Jack tried to get his partner to eat something. "Dude, this looks, well sorta like eggs, and…oh yeah, here we go…pancakes! You like pancakes. How 'bout I cut 'em up and we'll see how you do with utensils today, ok? And Jack did cut up and prepare bite -sized pieces that he thought Mac could manage, all the while distracting and humoring him with anecdotes about hospital food.

Mac smiled a little at Jack's antics and took the fork he handed him, shaking his head a little. "No…t… too… h'ngry" he managed as he made clumsy attempts to work the fork and stab a bite of pancake. Jack held himself back from helping, letting Mac to do whatever he could on his own. Finally, a small piece of pancake made it to Mac's mouth between him trying to lift the fork and bending over to meet it. He caught Jack's pleased smile and thought to himself how weirdly good it felt when such a small accomplishment made his friend so happy.

Jack noted the relief on Mac's face as a bite of food made it into his mouth and tried to be encouraging, "There ya go, Kid! Let's see if you can get enough into yourself to keep your energy up, ok? If you get tired, I'll help ya, don't worry."

By the end of the day, Mac was markedly improved. His speech was still a little halting and he had to work a little harder than usual to put his thoughts into words, but he was able to get the words out better. He could manage a walk to the bathroom with minimal assistance and, while Jack still insisted on walking him there, he leaned less heavily on the older man as the day went on. Fine motor movements were still proving to be a challenge, so feeding himself was still frustrating. Because of the speech and motor coordination issues, his doctor had decided on keeping him another day, producing more frustration and anxiety for Mac, who was losing patience with his difficulty expressing himself and being able to move his body with his usual gracefulness.

Dr. Davidson had explained to Jack, on the side, that personality, behavior, and mood changes could result, but since the exposure to the toxin was limited, he'd hoped these would be minimal and completely resolve on their own. He and Jack decided not to share this information with Mac, due to the anxiety it could produce, but would just keep reassuring him that the unusual feelings or issues would resolve. None of this did much to lessen Jack's own anxiety, however, and he was feeling the strain of trying to support Mac, remain positive, and not let his own concerns show to his friend. He hated seeing Mac so vulnerable, physically and mentally. Jack kept trying to make things easier for Mac, but Mac was still tiring of people hovering, testing, and questioning him.

As Mac's frustration grew, so did his anxiety and anger. His feelings bubbled just beneath the surface and he felt like throwing things, and probably would have if he could have managed to do even that. The pent up frustration made him feel helpless and tears always felt like they threatened to spill, adding to his mortification. The nightmares didn't help; Murdoc and that damned tank oozing into any dream he seemed to slip into. He'd woken up several times during the night in a sweat, and once crying out when he dreamt of being back in the tank and banging on the walls of the thing.

On this, his third full day of hospitalization, Mac was struggling with his lunch when Jack walked in, smiling and acting like it was any other day. Mac gave him half a smile and looked down at the mess he was making of the food on the plate.

"Hey, Jack," came out better than the day before, and Mac was relieved that his speech sounded more normal.

"Hey yourself, Dude! What's for lunch?" Jack asked as he produced some of Mac's favorite food in a bag. Jack was pleased that the kid's eyes lit up a bit and that meant he had some appetite. Jack had picked up some Chinese from their favorite place, but tried to get things Mac could eat without utensils, like eggrolls and fried shrimp.

"I see…you got..Chi…nese!" Mac shook his head and tipped his head back, closing his eyes and resting his head against the pillow in frustration.

"Yeah. C'mon Buddy, it's gettin' better every day. Pretty soon, we'll be able to do chopsticks with our Chinese food again!" Jack patted Mac on the thigh and removed the tray of…whatever it was…from in front of Mac, setting out the Chinese on paper plates.

"I know. Thanks. Jack." Mac smiled a little and reached out tentatively for an eggroll. He managed to be able to pick it up and bite it, albeit a little clumsily. The companionship and food made him feel a little more hopeful. It was hard sitting there alone, although that wasn't much thanks to his overly protective partner. He decided to show Jack what he'd been able to master while Jack was out this morning.

"Jack. Watch this." Mac pushed the tray aside and moved himself to the side of the bed, turning towards Jack and swinging his legs over the edge.

"Whoah, there! You want me to help you? Where…" Mac held a hand up to silence him.

"It's ok. Did it. Before." Mac placed both feet on the floor and held on to the upper rail of the bed and the mattress, glancing up at Jack with a smile, as he stood tentatively on his own.

Jack couldn't help but spot him as he stood and let go of the bed, but he smiled proudly and let him do it. He watched in awe as Mac took one step and another, first keeping his balance by lightly touching the bed, then letting go completely to walk the few feet, unaided, to the bathroom. Jack stopped there and Mac was able to open the door. As he disappeared inside, he cast a huge smile in Jack's direction. Jack grabbed the wall for support and wiped at his eyes as he grappled with his own emotions. He couldn't help but smile to himself with pride. The kid amazed him.

After they finished lunch, Mac looked a little more relaxed. Dr. Davidson came in and asked Jack to leave so he could evaluate his patient. Jack got up to comply, but eyed his partner to make sure that was going to be ok with him.

"He can…stay. Please." Mac looked again like tears might fall. Jack thought maybe the kid's fear was that he'd have to stay in the hospital longer. Maybe he just wanted support. As unlike Mac as it was to ask, Jack figured he really needed the older man there, so he wasn't about to leave.

"He can stay, Mac. Don't worry. I just want to check you over and talk to you about a few tests." As he listened to Mac's heart and lungs, he took in his patient's tense posture and worried features. "I just want to run an MRI this afternoon and if all is ok, you can go home, as long as you have care set up. Then you can make an appointment to come back for some neuro-psychological testing."

"Why? Wait! MRI? The tunnel thing?" Mac was alarmed and suddenly Jack noticed that his speech was flowing more normally, but the kid looked suddenly pale and his eyes were wide with fear. It didn't take much to figure out why, so Jack spoke up.

"Doc, my partner just spent more than 24 hours locked in a tank, so understandably, he's probably not too excited about being in an MRI machine. Can we avoid that or –and he looked questioningly at Mac- use some sedation to make it easier?"

"No! No seda..tion! No MRI! I'm leaving! Jack!" Mac looked desperately to Jack for back-up. The kid's eyes filled with tears and suddenly they were trailing down his cheeks.

Jack took in the look on Mac's face, the open vulnerability and fear. He couldn't stand to seeing his friend like that. Jack cast a firm look at the doctor, and assumed a stance with his arms crossed over his chest, tipping his chin up a little, which left no room for argument. He would be taking Mac home.

Dr. Dickerson looked from one to the other and nodded understandingly.

"I do understand, Mac. We can hold off on that MRI, but we'll have to see how you are in a few weeks. If there are lingering effects, we'll have to revisit the idea, but I promise that if you need the MRI, we'll make you comfortable. The other testing can wait a while too. Let's see how you do in your own environment and I'll see you in a week, ok? I think you've made remarkable progress, so I'm willing to be flexible." The doctor nodded at both men as he left the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'll sign the release papers."

Jack approached the bed and sat down on the edge facing Mac, who sat with his head back staring at the ceiling, embarrassed again by his inability to hide his emotions right now. The older man reached out a hand to the side of his friend's head, and as he swiped his thumbs under the kid's eyes, Mac closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. "It's ok, Kid. I gottcha. You're goin' home." Jack tugged on the back of Mac's neck, pulling him into his chest and wrapping his arms around him in a bear hug. He felt Mac relax against him and ran his hand up and down the young man's back.

"Jack. 'm ok. Just couldn't. I just. Couldn't. Please. Wanta go home," Mac said in a low pleading voice. He pulled away from Jack and tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment, then recovering himself, he took a few deep breaths.

"My clothes,…Jack…please," Mac directed more resolutely than he felt. With that, he reached down and pulled the tape off the IV in his arm, the IV pulling out with it. Jack smiled and nodded and reached out for a tissue and handed it to his partner to dab at the hole where the IV had been, that was now oozing bloody fluid. Jack got up and got Mac's clean clothes from the duffle bag and placed them on the bed.

"Bud, I know you don't want my help, but you'll get out of here sooner if ya let me. You can do most of it yourself. What'd ya say?" Jack waited and held up the clean long sleeve Henley shirt. Mac shook his head and leaned forward, reaching for the hem of his tee and trying to pull it up over his chest. He managed to pull it half way up his torso before glancing at Jack and giving him one of those almost imperceptible nods. Jack caught it and gave the required assistance, first with the shirt, then helping him replace the shorts with long pants. The belt required too much fine motor movement for Mac to accomplish and when Jack held it up, Mac just waved him off and decided to go without. He let Jack put on his shoes, as working on them while bent over just didn't go well. By the time the nurse came in with his paperwork and a wheelchair, Mac was ready. He signed the papers, although it didn't look anything like his signature, and stood unassisted, waving off the wheelchair.

The nurse gave him a concerned look. "Mr. MacGyver, you haven't walked that far on your own yet. It's quite a long way to the front doors. You'll exhaust yourself." Seeing the stubborn set of his jaw, she offered a compromise. "How about I take you to the elevator in the chair, then you can walk with Mr. Dalton and I out to the car?" She saw his face soften a bit and winked at him, knowing it was a good deal. Jack nodded at her approvingly.

As the elevator opened in the lobby, Jack and the nurse flanked Mac on either side and he walked out the front door mostly under his own power. Bozer pulled the jeep up to the entrance and ran around to assist Mac into the front seat. Jack gave him a look that let him know that, in this case, less was more, and he had it covered. Mac managed to get into the jeep and just needed a little assistance getting his legs in too.

"So glad you are on your way home, Man!" Bozer smiled, putting the jeep into gear and pulling away from the hospital.

"Me too, Boze," Mac managed. He quirked half a smile at his friend before closing his eyes and riding the rest of the way in silence.

Bozer and Jack joked around lightly on the way, trying to add as much normalcy to this situation as possible. Jack planned on staying, which was fine with Bozer. He already had some clothes in the spare room and could stop for more in a day or so. Neither wanted Mac to be alone and Bozer would have to go back to work the next day.

"So Mac, besides recovering and doing physical therapy, what do you have planned for this unexpected time off?" Bozer asked.

"As soon…as I can…visit Murdoc." Mac said it seriously and both men just looked at him.

"Bud, why would you want to see that monster after what he just put you through?" Jack asked quietly.

"He thinks I'm…he thinks he… won. I have to…I have to show…He didn't," Mac explained resolutely. Jack leaned up from the back seat and patted his friend's shoulder. Bozer gave an understanding look and just nodded.

"Well, let's get you rehabbed so you can show that asshole psychopath you're not beat!" Jack said, his voice leaving no room for argument that it would definitely happen. Mac smiled at Jack's bravado, which he knew was for his benefit, but he also didn't doubt that his friend would move heaven and earth to make it happen. Mac nodded and smiled to himself, closing his eyes for the rest of the ride.

Jack had spoken to Matty earlier that morning and finally gotten the intel that she did not believe Wendy really knew about the kidnapping, but was rather, an unwitting accomplice. Matty had Riley working on the digital forensics of the case, trying to acertain if Murdoc or his associates had been able to hack Mac's psych files. She felt they were close to a break but she didn't want to say more until she was sure. She knew, however, that both men thinking they'd been betrayed by Wendy was hard on them, so she wanted him to know that much.

Jack had appreciated it, and tried to put his mind on figuring out how the information from Mac's psych files had gotten into Murdoc's hands; hell, his own information had been compromised too, which did little for he peace of mind. But although he tried to keep his mind on that, his thoughts kept going back to his partner and how he was going to help him deal with the physical and emotional trauma he'd experienced. He was damned relieved that Mac's speech and coordination were coming back, but they hadn't even begun to deal with what he'd been through emotionally. Jack didn't even have any idea what games Murdoc had been playing with Mac psychologically and what might have been worse, the effects of the sensory deprivation itself. He felt no less threatened by that than by any physical minefield he'd found himself in while in Afghanistan, and then, he'd had Mac's help many times to navigate through. Now, he didn't know how much help his friend could be since the minefield was in Mac's own head.

Bozer turning into the driveway brought Jack from his reverie and he patted Mac on the shoulder gently. "Home, Bud." Mac just stared at the house and made no move to take off his seatbelt. Bozer's gaze went to his friend then exchanged a worried glance with Jack.

"Mac, you ok, Man?" Bozer tried. Mac didn't respond right away, but seconds later took a deep breath and looked over at Bozer, giving his roommate half a smile.

"I'm good…Boze. Just think'in," Mac admitted, still sounding far off.

"About what?" Jack asked quietly.

"Good to be home…but…what am I…going to…do? I'll go nuts…with nothing…"

"Hey, leave that to us, ok? Bozer and I have some ideas to keep you busy and productive, right Bozer?" Jack smiled and slapped Bozer's shoulder.

"You got it! Man, we have plans for you. We're gonna do stuff that'll help with your rehab and keep that brain of yours busy so you're not gettin' all grumpy and whiny on us!" With that, Bozer opened his door, coming around the front of the jeep to open Mac's door for him.

Mac gave him an unhappy glare. "I don't whine, Boze." He struggled lifting his legs to get them out of the car, getting the first one out, but needing some assistance to get the other leg out.

As Bozer leaned down to help, he said, "Yes, you do! When you're bored, you're whiny, Mac. Jack and I…we're just here to help and…"

"I know, Boze. I'll try not to get….whiny…ok?" Mac conceded, smiling at his friend with that I don't think I get whiny, but whatever look.

Mac stretched after getting out and slowly started up the path to the front door but not before holding up his hands to keep Jack and Bozer from flanking him on either side. They exchanged glances again and followed closely instead, thinking Mac might face-plant at any time, but he finally made it to the door under his own power. Getting inside was a different story. It seemed that getting there used up all the energy Mac had, and once inside the door, his knees started to buckle. Jack reached out and grabbed him by the arm, breaking his fall.

"Alright, Brother, you used all your strength on that and we haven't even done any rehab yet! C'mon, Boze and I will get you in here to the couch," Jack tried. Mac just rolled his eyes and nodded, allowing the two of them to get him under each arm and take most of his weight.

They spent the afternoon watching movies and eating Bozer's homemade popcorn. By the end of the second one, Mac and Jack were both asleep on opposite ends of the couch. Bozer shook his head and covered them with a blanket and got up to make up some of Mac's favorite cookies, thinking that even the smell alone might help his friend's mood. And Mac loved Bozer's chocolate chip cookies. When he and Bozer were kids, Bozer's mom would make them when Mac would have a bad day and it always helped. Right now, there wasn't much he could do for Mac, so it seemed like a small thing that his friend would appreciate. He left a plate of cooling cookies on the counter with a note and went out to run some errands for Riley. He knew Jack was going to try to pry Mac a little about what happened with Murdoc and he wanted to give them some privacy.

Bozer loved Mac; he really did, and he'd do anything for the guy, but when some emotional first aid was needed, Jack was better suited for the job. Bozer knew Jack had some pretty intuitive ways to maneuver through Mac's defenses. Bozer found that harder to do, so he'd leave that battle for Jack, knowing his friend was in good hands.

Mac woke from a peaceful sleep to the scent of chocolate chip cookies wafting through the air… and not any chocolate chip cookies…these were Mama Bozer's! Mac would have known that smell anywhere. He sat up looking toward the kitchen, seeing the plate on the counter. A glance at a sleeping Jack nearby brought a smile to his face. Slowly, he was able to get up and make his way into the kitchen.

He didn't want to chance dropping a glass, so he got a paper cup from the dispenser and got the milk from the frig. He managed to pour a cup with two hands, only spilling a little, and sat at the counter to have a cookie and milk. It felt great to be home, to sit in his own kitchen and get his own snack together. He thought about Bozer making those cookies for him and Jack sacked out on his couch and felt…lucky… which seemed odd in his circumstances. He let his mind drift to the last few days and to the 24 hours in the tank. As his mind replayed the thoughts and feelings he experienced there, he jolted back to the present, as if he had stumbled into the memory by accident. He flinched and the cup of milk went sloshing across the counter. "Son of a bitch!" he said a little more loudly than he meant to.

Jack awoke at the exclamation and turned to see Mac reaching for paper towels and falling off the kitchen stool. He jumped up and ran into the kitchen, crouching down on the floor to help Mac up and back onto the chair, taking the towels from his hands. "What are you doin' in here, Mac? I have to say your ninja skills are improving. You made it in here and made yourself a snack without wakin' me up! I might never even have gotten a cookie if you hadn't tried that skillful move!" Jack laughed a little, now that he realized Mac was ok. He observed his friend as he wiped up the milk on the counter. Other than looking a little flushed- and Jack knew he was embarrassed- Mac seemed ok.

"Sorry I woke you. Was doin ok. Then…well, sorry, Jack. Bozer… made cookies." Mac offered the plate to Jack with a wave of his hand. "Maybe you'll have better luck… with the milk… than I did." Mac smiled a little sheepishly then and Jack couldn't help but shake his head and smile fondly at the kid. He rounded the counter again and got the milk out and two new cups and poured the milk for the two of them. Jack grabbed a cookie and sat on the stool next to Mac's and they enjoyed Bozer's cookies in silence.

Finally, when Jack finished his snack and observed that Mac was doing fairly well getting the cookies and milk to his own mouth, the older man let out a sigh. "Those are the best chocolate chip cookies…like…ever, Man!" Jack gave his friend a full on grin and Mac returned it, even if only partially.

"So I'm wondering if you want to try to get a shower and put on some clean clothes, maybe sit out on the deck a while. Maybe you want to take a little swim first? What are you up for, Man? I'm here to help," Jack offered.

Mac looked from Jack to his hands on the counter, and seemed to consider. "Thanks, Jack. I'd like to…swim but, maybe too…tired. I think a shower for sure. Then have to see…how much…energy is left." Mac looked at his friend a little tentatively, not quite sure where to start the process of gathering clothes, getting into the bathroom, into the shower, then out and dressed. It seemed exhausting and even a little embarrassing right now.

"C'mon, Man, got a surprise for you to make things easier. Let's get you into the bathroom and I'll get you set up to take yourself a shower," Jack replied, noticing Mac's hesitance. He walked with Mac to the bathroom and put the lid of the toilet down for him to sit on and opened the shower curtain, revealing a shower chair. There was also a smallish container of liquid soap since Jack figured a large bottle might be difficult to handle. "I'll get you some clothes and help only if you need it. I think you might be able to mostly manage on your own with this, though. What'd ya say?" Jack watched Mac's face go from concern to surprised and then worried again. "What's wrong, Bud?"

"I…thanks, Jack. I'll try." Mac got up, still fully clothed, and sat on the shower chair part that was outside the tub and tried to get his legs over the tub, just to see if he could. He could manage one but the other wouldn't make it over the edge. "Maybe tomorrow?" he asked, averting his eyes from Jack.

"Nope, you need a shower, Man. Get your clothes off and wrap this towel around you and I'll come back to help you get in." With that, Jack handed Mac a towel and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him. It took Mac a little while to get his clothes off, the hardest part being to get his shirt over his head. Finally, he took his arms out of the sleeves and leaned over to pull it off his head. He managed to get the towel somewhat around him and sat on the shower chair and got one leg in. Still unable to get the other leg over the tub, he relented and reluctantly called for Jack.

Jack had been in the hall next to the door worrying that he shouldn't have expected so much of his friend, but knowing if he accomplished this, it would get easier every day and would increase Mac's confidence. When Mac called him, he entered the bathroom to find clothing on the floor in a heap and Mac half in and half out of the shower. He nodded approvingly and reached in to run the water, then handed Mac the hand-held shower and helped him get his other leg into the tub. "You ok now, Bud? Can you get started?" Jack said lightly, but noticed the still worried look on Mac's face.

"Yeah, mostly, but I…my hair. I can't raise my…arms…enough to wash…my hair," and the dejected sound of his voice almost broke Jack's heart.

"Well that's no problem, Kiddo. I can do that and you can do the rest." Jack talked and cajoled and distracted Mac with some story about his mom doing the same when Jack had broken his arm as a kid. All the while he sprayed down Mac's hair and lathered his head with shampoo and quickly washed his hair and his back, because he wouldn't be able to reach that, either. It wasn't lost on him when Mac sank back into the touch and sighed deeply, letting Jack know that his presence and efforts were reassuring to the kid, even though Jack knew it took a lot for Mac to give in to needing the help. Then he handed the washcloth to Mac and closed the curtain to let the kid finish on his own, and leaned on the sink, drying his hands.

"You doin' ok, Bud?"

"I think so. It'll do. Got a…dry towel?" And Jack handed one in to him. When Mac opened the curtain, he was mostly dry and had the towel across his lap. He tried again on his own to get his legs out of the tub and mostly managed it this time. The small but triumphant smile that appeared on his face didn't get by Jack.

"Good job! Boy, you'll be back to doin' this all for yourself in no time! C'mon and get some clothes on and then you need a rest. This has to be exhausting right now." Jack helped him put a shirt over his head and underwear and sweats over his feet and up to his knees. Then he left the kid to finish on his own. Again, he waited outside and when the door opened, Mac was clean and dressed and looked like he'd collapse any second. Jack wrapped an arm around his waist for support and walked him to his bedroom. "How 'bout you stretch out now and take a little rest. You sure earned it," Jack said proudly.

Mac huffed a little and shook his head. "Only took a shower…Jack!"

"Yeah, well most people who've been through what you have are still in the hospital. Those neurotoxins are hell to pay on your body and what you're doin' is remarkable. Even the doc said so! Let's just be happy with the small gains, ok?" Jack patted Mac's shoulder as Mac sat on the bed and Jack helped him get his feet up and covered him with a blanket. He smiled down at him affectionately, running his hand over Mac's messy still-damp hair, and although the kid swatted his hand away, there was no heat in it. He went in and cleaned up the wet towels and discarded clothes in the bathroom and put them in the laundry room. By the time he got back to Mac's room, the kid had dozed off. Jack went and got a cup of coffee and a magazine and came back to Mac's room, settling himself in one of the chairs and propping his feet on the bed. He didn't dare leave Mac alone yet. Knowing him as he did, the nightmares would start and Jack didn't want to be far away.

Mac felt a chill in the dark room. He didn't know how he got there, but it looked a little like the FLOAT therapy center except it was dark and long and there was one tank at the end of the long hall he walked through…in a towel! He stopped half way down the hall, not wanting to go near the pod, but then he heard Murdoc's voice, "C'mon MacGyver, what's wrong? A little stress relief would be good for you!" As Mac turned to find the source of the voice, he saw Murdoc coming down the hall after him, causing him to back up toward the tank.

"No, Murdoc; I'm not doing this! No!"

"No!" MacGyver screamed, waking Jack abruptly to his friend struggling with his covers. Jack quickly sat on the bed next to Mac, careful not to get too close and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Mac! Mac! It's ok. You're dream'in, Man! C'mon, wake up," Jack pleaded. And as Mac stilled and his eyes opened slowly, Jack softened his voice and sat a little closer. "You're ok. It was just a dream, Kiddo, just a dream. I'm here."

" 'm ok, Jack," Mac slurred out, still getting his bearings. "Murdoc? Is he?" Mac questioned as he sat up, looking around suspiciously.

"In prison, Mac; not here. You're safe, Man, I promise," Jack reassured.

"Ok, good. I'm ok," and Mac sounded more like he was reassuring himself than Jack. Jack handed him a bottle of water that he'd had on the nightstand and Mac drank the whole thing down. No doubt the adrenaline surge dried his mouth, Jack reasoned.

"I'm guessing you don't want to tell me what that was about? You know, 'cause you don't usually want to talk about your nightmares, but maybe…" Jack let Mac finish.

"Not right now…but…thanks, Jack. I will tell you, but a little…later. Ok?" Mac seemed to recover himself quickly and lay back down on the bed, turning to his side, toward Jack. "Sorry I woke you…again today. I don't want you to… not sleep… while you're here, Jack. I think I might be… waking you up a lot. It's not…I don't want you to leave, but you have to sleep too."

Jack smiled at the kid. He was being so characteristically 'Mac' and Jack would've rather been woken up ten times a night…or more…rather than leave his friend when he needed him, and even more so when he admitted to needing him.

"You let me worry about that. I'll get plenty of sleep, Kiddo," Jack said softly, patting Mac's arm.

"You're doing that thing again, Jack," Mac said with a slight grin. When Jack just looked confused, Mac continued, "You know, the 'dad' thing." Mac looked away, now a little self-conscious. It did make him feel good to know Jack thought of him that way, but if he were being honest, it was still a little awkward slipping from the friend/partner mode to the father/son mode.

"The dad thing?" Jack chuckled, running a hand over his hair. "Well, maybe just a little, I guess. I don't mean to, exactly. I don't want to make you feel..."

Mac held a hand up. "It's kinda too late, Jack, since you already…washed my hair!" Mac chuckled and looked away again. "But it's ok, Jack. I'm glad you're…here…and if you want to 'dad' me, I guess I can put up with it…a little." Mac smiled and met Jack's eyes for a brief moment, then looked down to his hands, still a little embarrassed.

"Well, you know I'm ok with treatin' you like a son any day of the week, but if it gets to be too much for you, just tell me, ok? I promise I'll back off and treat you like the badass agent I know you are and tell ya to wash your own damn hair! But, for a little while, ya know, it's ok to let someone (Jack pointed to himself) take care of you. Just for a little while," Jack added quietly. Then Jack smiled and lightened the mood, "Because I am the only one up to the job, 'specially when you get 'whiny' like Bozer said!" Jack stood up, lightly slapping Mac on the leg.

Mac laughed, even though his eyes gave away how touched he was. He grinned at his friend, shaking his head, "Yeah, ok…Old Man! But you are probably…the only one… who'd want the job. And… I don't whine."

Later that evening, they were sitting on the deck by the fire pit. Bozer had brought Riley over and made them dinner and they were all relaxed and having a beer. Mac was quiet, thoughtful, and Jack was trying not to appear to keep close tabs on him, while still keeping tabs on him. Mac motioned to Jack that he wanted a word and Jack casually made his way over, under the pretense of getting Mac another beer.

"Jack, I need a…minute with Riley, ok?" Mac asked quietly.

Jack nodded and caught Bozer's eye. "Boze! C'mon in a minute. I need a word, Man." Bozer nodded and got up to join Jack as the two went back inside.

Riley threw a confused look at Mac and smiled a little, getting up and coming to sit on the edge of the firepit, facing Mac. "What's that all about, Mac?"

"Needed to talk…to you…for a minute, ok?" He asked, meeting her gaze, but a little self-conscious.

"Sure. What about?" she invited.

"When I was unconscious…in the hospital…were you reading to me?" and a barely there smile graced his lips. "The Hobitt?"

"Yeah, I was. I'm surprised you remember. You were pretty out of it, but after you woke up, you didn't want me to stop!" Riley smiled at him and reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

Mac looked at her and looked away. He had to tell her, but it was still hard to talk about those frightening minutes and hours as he was first regaining consciousness. "It was like a fog…I could hear stuff…voices. You, Jack. I knew you were there, but I couldn't get back. Then I heard…The Hobitt…your voice. It gave me something to…latch onto…to find my way back. I could feel that you were next to me." Mac absently put his hand out and Riley took it. "You kept talking, reading, and I could feel you there. It…grounded me. I don't know how.." Mac's voice caught and Riley had to swallow hard when she saw a tear trail down Mac's face. "I don't know how I would…have gotten back…without you, Ri. Thank you." He dared a glance at her then because he needed her to know how much it had meant. He let go of her hand and swiped at his face. "Sorry. Everything feels…still kind of…raw."

Riley nodded and cleared her throat. "I know. For me too. We were so scared for you. I didn't know what to do, but I thought about reading and I remember we talked about The Hobitt once, so…Anyway, I hope you didn't think it was weird…I mean we haven't really been that close…so I didn't know."

Mac smiled then, "Well, I guess now we are. And it wasn't weird. It was perfect." He let out a sigh that he felt like a breath he'd been holding forever. "Want to walk me inside? I have to go to the…bathroom and I'm not really…good on the steps. I can do them on my own…but Jack…"

Riley laughed and held up a hand to interrupt, "Jack made you promise not to do it unsupervised. I get it. C'mon I'll walk you down the steps." She stood and waited for him to get up and steady himself then walked across the deck to the stairs with him. He still had to use both hands on the railing and go slowly, but he was able to manage well. Riley patted him on the back. "You did fine. You ok now? I'll meet you in the living room?"

Mac nodded and made his way to the bathroom and then out to the living room to join his friends.

Chapter 9

In the following weeks, Mac's house was a flurry of activity with physical and speech therapists coming and going. Mac hated it. He tried to be patient and polite and do what they suggested, but he just wanted to be left alone to do this on his own. As his irritability worsened, every member of the team was stretched thin trying to support him and not let his solemn mood get to them. Jack stayed at the house, still unwilling to let Mac on his own, even with Bozer at home nights. Matty had given him the time, knowing she needed them healing as a team, and Jack was going to make sure, for his part, that that's what Mac did.

Jack came in one morning from a coffee and bagel run, placing the food and coffee carrier on the kitchen island and calling for Mac, as he always did, to let him know he was home. When there was no answer, he instantly became concerned that Mac might have gone up to the deck and he really wasn't cleared for stairs on his own yet, especially if no one was home. The deck, however, was empty. Now, the hair on the back of Jack's neck stood on end and he had that "Spidey Senses tingle," as he liked to call it. A quick search of the house and he knew Mac wasn't home.

The kid's running shoes were missing. "Damn kid! He knows better. He'll kill himself." Jack thought as he ran out the door and down to the road, looking each way for signs of Mac. He sprinted down the hill, knowing he couldn't have gotten that far in either direction. He ran about a mile to where he had a good view of a stretch of road ahead. No Mac. He turned and sprinted up hill and kept going for another mile or so past Mac's place.

As his eyes scanned the sides of the road, his heart felt like it was in his throat as he saw the crumpled form lying ahead of him. "Damn it! Mac!" He came to a skidding stop in the road by his friend, the kid curled onto his side by the edge of the road, breathing heavily, eyes closed like he was in pain. "Are you ok? Did you fall? Tell me what hurts, ok?" Jack asked rapid fire as he reached an arm under Mac's neck and helped him to a sitting position. Mac just shook his head and wouldn't look at Jack. Jack put his arm around Mac and drew him in for a quick one -armed hug, then gained his feet and reached down to help Mac to his feet, but Mac's legs wouldn't work. "Buddy, can you get your feet under you? I'll take most of your weight. Let's just get you upright, ok? You can do it." He kept up a stream of reassurances as he hauled Mac to his feet and wrapped an arm around Mac's waist and brought Mac's right arm over his shoulders.

It took about 20 minutes to get Mac home that way, and it was mostly downhill, but when they reached the driveway and had to tackle the long drive uphill to the house, Jack knew Mac couldn't do any more. "Ok, Man, hang on. I got this part." Mac barely let out a whimpered 'No' as Jack bent his knees and draped Mac over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Mac barely moved, didn't say another word as Jack got him into the house and straight to his bed. He deposited Mac there and left the room so quickly, Mac actually interpreted it as Jack being furious.

In moments, Jack returned with two bottles of water for each of them and sat on the bed, opening one and handing it to Mac. When the kid didn't take it, Jack realized he was so spent he didn't have enough strength to use his arms to push himself up. Jack pulled him forward and put some pillows behind him, then lifted him under the arms, dragging him up to sit against the pillows. He held the water to Mac's lips. "Ok, just drink, Man. You know we're gonna have a talk about this, but I know you don't have the energy for that now, so we're gonna get you hydrated and after you rest a little, maybe you can get these dirty, sweaty clothes off and get in the shower."

"I don't know what you were thinkin'…well, actually, maybe I do." Jack drank down a bottle of water himself and gave Mac some more too. The kid drank but wouldn't look at him. He looked pissed and sad in equal parts and Jack grappled with how to deal with him. After a few moments Jack tried "Maybe I'll talk to medical about backin' off on the therapy for the rest of the week. We have enough stuff right here that will accomplish the strength and coordination work you've been doin'. Will that get you the space you're lookin' for?"

Mac turned to meet Jack's gaze for the first time and his eyes were suddenly wide with interest.

'Home run!' Jack thought to himself.

"You mean it?" Mac asked skeptically.

" 'Course I do! I just lugged your ass almost a mile to get you back here, Son. You think I'm playin' right now?" Jack feigned being annoyed to make his point. He was definitely serious. The kid had hit the wall. He'd been through hell and the steady stream of rehab people was part of it. He didn't do well with this much company on a constant basis when he was feeling well. Having been the center of everyone's scrutiny must have felt like being under a microscope to Mac. The kid needed a break. Plus he was still having nightmares and they hadn't even talked about the tank or…well, there was plenty they hadn't covered. He held the water out to Mac who finished the first bottle. He was finally able to reach up and hold it himself.

"Please, Jack! Call them," Mac almost pleaded. "I need everyone to stay away. I don't know for how long, but…please; I can't take it anymore."

"Sure, Bud, I'll go call right now." Jack patted Mac's leg and fixed him with a serious stare, taking out his phone and leaving the room to make the call.

When Jack got back from making the calls to Matty and the therapists, Mac was sound asleep. Jack took in the appearance of his friend: sweaty, dirty, curled on his bed sleeping. He looked so dejected and wrecked that Jack just couldn't stand it. He would do anything to fix this and he hoped that what he could do would be enough. He left the door open in case the kid needed him, but went to make some preparations.

Mac's eyes fluttered open and he felt himself taking a deep breath and smelled something cooking. It smelled like chicken soup. He sat up…god he was sore…but he was able to get himself upright on shaky legs. The run had really zapped the strength in his legs and he hurt…everywhere. He held on to the furniture for support until he reached the door, then managed to steady himself and walk down the hall, keeping his hand on the wall for balance, as he made his way to the kitchen.

Jack looked up as he appeared. He had an apron on and was stirring a huge pot of soup. "Dude! You're awake! Lookin' a little rough, there, Slick. How about you get a shower and come have some of Ma Dalton's chicken noodle soup?" Jack gave Mac a once over glance, not liking what he saw, but he tried to hide that and focus on the fact that the kid was up and moving again. He turned the heat down on the soup and covered it again. Then he took off his apron as he moved over to meet his friend, who was just standing there looking a bit lost. He reached out a hand to Mac's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You ok, Mac? How 'bout I walk you to the shower and get you some clean clothes? You look wiped out."

"Honestly, Jack, my legs feel so shaky and tight, I'm not sure I'm up for a shower right now. Maybe I'll just lie down on the couch. By the way, soup smells really good. How many people are coming?" Mac looked at Jack expectantly with half a smile.

"What? Oh…well Ma always made enough for the whole family and then enough for the freezer, so that's the only way I know how to make it!" Jack smirked and put up his hands in surrender. "C'mon, I'm gonna clean out the tub and run you a bath with Epsom salts for your muscles. Then soup and then we have some work to do." And with that, he brushed past Mac and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

"What work? Jack what are you talking about?" Mac asked as he slowly followed Jack.

Mac sat on the closed toilet watching as Jack got to work on preparing a bath. He shook his head and tried to dissuade him, but Jack was in full Papa Bear mode and had made up his mind. "C'mon Jack, I can just get cleaned up and get a shower later. You don't have to do this." The tub was clean and Jack just shook his head and smiled as he went to get the Epsom salts and came back in, dumping a healthy amount into the running bath. He checked the temperature and adjusted the water.

"Ok, Bud, get your ass in the tub." He looked at Mac who stood slowly and stiffly and pulled off his shirt.

"I can do it, Jack. Thanks." Mac gave Jack a look like he'd wait for Jack to go. The older man nodded and put a towel on the sink and turned around to leave.

"Mac, I'm gonna be in the kitchen and I'll give you privacy but leave the door open a little, ok? You're not lookin' too agile there and if you slip or something, I want to know. Just call me." Jack left then, but it was hard to do. After this morning, he really felt like Mac needed more help, but it would rankle the kid and that wouldn't be productive.

When Jack left the bathroom, Mac continued to slowly work at getting his clothes off and then eased himself into the bath. His legs finally relaxed a little and he sunk into the water and closed his eyes. He felt the sides of the tub and suddenly flashed to when he first got in the pod and was getting acclimated to the feeling of the water and him sloshing around in it. He opened his eyes and sat up, jarred out of his relaxing soak, looking around the room and reassuring himself of where he was. He tamped down the urge to yell for Jack. He really didn't want to have Jack running into the bathroom while he was still in the tub. It took a few minutes to bring his heart rate and breathing under control, but he was able to stay in the tub and soak for about 20 minutes, which only worked because he kept his eyes open.

Jack was sitting on the couch, watching TV when Mac emerged. He looked significantly cleaner and dressed in fresh sweats, but the older man noticed the kid looked pale and shaky. He almost let it pass, but Mac sat as far from Jack on the couch as he could, a clear sign to his friend that he really didn't want Jack to notice.

"Mac?" Jack asked quietly.

"What?" Mac asked, but wouldn't meet Jack's eyes.

"What is it you don't want to tell me?" Jack moved closer and turned sideways to try to get Mac to meet his eyes.

Mac took a big sigh and rolled his eyes a little. He might never figure out just how Jack did that.

"It's not anything, really. I'm ok. It was just a flashback, but it was only a few seconds and…"

"What kind of flashback, Bud?" Jack asked gently.

"The tank. I felt the sides of the tub and suddenly I felt like I was in the tank again," Mac admitted, looking down at his hands.

"Aw, Mac. I'm sorry, Man. I should have realized getting in the tub might not be the best…"

Mac held up his hand and shook his head, "No, it's okay, Jack. The bath helped. My legs feel better, just sort of like jelly, but better. You couldn't have known what would trigger the flashback. It'll probably happen for a while until I sort through everything," Mac allowed, finally looking at Jack and smiling slightly.

"Mac," Jack began, "we haven't really talked about what happened to you. At some point, that has probably gotta happen."

"I know, and you're right. But I don't think I'm up for that right now. Let's think about that tomorrow. Right now, I'm kind of hungry and that soup smells great!" Mac smiled then and stood up to go to the kitchen. Jack was right behind him.

"Dude, you are gonna love this soup!" Jack served up the soup with nice slices of crusty French bread and butter and the two settled in for a quiet dinner and watching movies for the evening. As they sat on the couch, Mac stole a few glances at Jack, happily sipping his beer and watching Independence Day. He felt the best he'd felt in a long time and he was looking forward to a few quiet days before he had to go back to the doctor for his follow-up.

Mac awoke the next day to the smell of coffee and when he came out to the living room, he found Jack, sitting with his coffee and an extra cup on the coffee table for himself. Mac slowly approached, watching in amusement, as Jack set up a game of…Jenga?

"Morning, Jack," Mac said tentatively. "What is this?"

Jack turned and smiled at Mac, then handed him a cup of coffee. "Mornin' Sunshine! What? You've never seen Jenga before?" Jack pointed to the wooden tower on the table. "This is a game that will also help you with fine motor coordination, my friend. Bozer wasn't kidding when he said we had things to keep you busy and productive!"

"Here I thought he wanted to keep me from whining," Mac said with half a smile. "So are you caffeinating me so my hands shake just for the extra challenge?"

"Well, I actually thought you might just want to sit and wake up a few minutes, but you can look at it as a challenge. I know you love those!" Jack grinned. Mac just smiled his reply and sat on the other side of the coffee table on the floor and took a few sips of coffee, studying the tower. Then, concentrating more than he'd usually have to, he reached over and tapped a wood block from the center and pulled it from the other side.

"Game on, Old Man!" Mac said, grinning at his own success.

Jack chuckled and put down his coffee to concentrate on giving Mac a run for his money. After an hour of not giving the kid any slack, Jack still lost when the tower tumbled and Mac whooped in victory. By now, they were on their second coffee and Mac was looking as relaxed and content as Jack had seen him in a long time.

"So what's next on my rehab agenda, Jack?" Mac smiled his challenge. He was feeling pretty good about his progress and challenging Jack just felt normal. Normal was good.

"Well, I was thinkin' we'd take a swim. It's warm out and since it was warm yesterday, the pool is bound to be comfortable, so how do you feel about that? Good to stretch the muscles, low impact, a little cardio, and a whole lot safer than running a mile up hill in the heat, huh?" Jack winked at Mac to drive home the point since they never really discussed Mac's poor choice of workout activity the day before. Mac countered with a resigned smile and nod because he knew he so deserved that. Actually his muscles were more stiff and sore than he'd care to admit after that endeavor. The pool would feel good.

"Sounds good, actually. Maybe after we warm up, I'll race you for a few laps."

"Well, you're feelin' pretty good today, aren't you? Well, I'm glad of it, Mac, really. But I'm not gonna take it easy on you, Boy, so you best bring your A game," Jack countered.

Mac joined Jack in the pool and the two put in several laps before Mac had to stop to rest. Usually, he was a tireless swimmer, fast and graceful. He really felt the effects of the neurotoxin on his muscles as he swam, however, and his frustration built. He couldn't make his body get into the usual rhythm, and he felt clumsy and out of breath.

Jack had watched Mac's stroke and realized his breathing and coordination were off, that the kid was lacking in his usual grace. Then he had an idea.

"Mac, why don't you try swimming just under water? That way, you only have to hold your breath instead of controlling breathing and strokes and you'll still build stamina. Give it a try."

Mac thought about it and realized his friend might be onto something. He took a few deep breaths, then held one and pushed off the wall, swimming under water and made it half the length of the pool. Usually, he could do almost two lengths without a breath, but as he continued, he found it was easier to coordinate his movements when he didn't have to think about breathing. Soon, he was swimming the full length without a breath. The first time he did, he came up and looked back at Jack, a triumphant smile on his face. "I did it! The full length in one breath!"

"Way to go, Kid!" Jack smiled proudly at him and gave him two thumbs up.

While Mac was getting showered and changed, Jack walked outside and called Matty. He got an update on the investigation and, after considering for a few moments, asked his boss for a favor.

"I agree, Dalton. I'll take care of it this afternoon," Matty assured.

"Thanks, Matty," Jack said gratefully.

Chapter 10

When Jack came in, Mac was on the couch asleep. Swimming must have used a lot of energy…energy the kid didn't have excessive stores of these days. Jack hoped that would change. It was so un Mac-like to tire so easily. He was usually like a live wire, barely ever sitting still unless it was after an exhausting mission or when he'd purposely tire himself on a run. That wasn't, however, usually just a mile from the house, and didn't ever include being slung over Jack's shoulder and carried back, he thought to himself. Well, it might take a while to get that stamina back but Jack wouldn't be giving up on the kid. He'd need someone to buoy his spirits, but MacGyver wasn't one to give up, either, so Jack was in it for the long haul. He quickly changed and grabbed a beer and sat on one of the chairs in the living room, turning on the TV with the volume muted and waited for Matty to make good on her promise.

When the doorbell rang a little while later, Mac was startled awake. "I got it," Jack offered and instantly got up and went to the door, checking first before opening it. Mac looked over to see who it was and was surprised to see Wendy being invited in by Jack.

"It's good to see you, Jack. Thanks for inviting me over. I've been hoping…Mac! How are you?" Wendy exclaimed entering the living room and taking in the sight of her patient, or ex-patient. She stopped several feet away, not knowing how Mac would react to seeing her.

"I'm…a…fine, Wendy? What's going on?" Mac looked from her to Jack and noticed that his partner did not seem surprised at all to see their former therapist, who they thought might have betrayed Mac, standing in his living room. Mac, on the other hand took an unconscious but noticeable step back and his surprise registered on his face as something between fear and disbelief.

"Wendy's been cleared of any part in your kidnapping, Mac. Matty told me herself. She's here to explain what we think happened. I thought it might be good if you heard it from her," Jack explained glancing from Wendy to his partner.

"Ok," Mac began, sitting back down, but looking skeptical, and motioning for Wendy to take the chair across from him. He shifted a little uncomfortably, but Jack noticed he his game face was back on.

"Mac, I have to say first that I'm so sorry about what happened to you." Mac thought she looked honestly contrite, so she had his attention.

"Riley did some digging and Matty contacted me to let me know that somehow, my files were accessed remotely. She doesn't really know how, but…Jack, you might want to sit down unless Matty already told you…" Wendy looked at Jack nervously.

"She did not tell me how the information got leaked or to whom," Jack said, sitting on the arm of the couch where Mac was.

"Well, they still don't know exactly how, but Susan, your former therapist, was able to continue to access the files after she resigned, even after they discontinued her security clearance. They think Murdoc paid her to acquire the information, although they are still following the money trail on that, I'm told."

Mac glanced at Jack, who looked like he'd been shot. His face drained of color and his breath hitched noticeably. Mac stood and moved to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you ok, Jack?" he asked quietly.

"You mean everything I ever told her for the year plus that I talked to her….and you…is in the hands of….that psycho?" Jack stumbled over the question.

"I'm afraid so," Wendy admitted. "But when we enter notes, it's not really everything, just what we feel is relevant and what we might plan to explore further. I can access the notes again, now that I'm cleared, so if it would make you feel better to know exactly what information got out, I would go over it with you, Jack. You, too, Mac, although we only had a few sessions, so there's not much there."

"It's enough," Mac said flatly. He and Jack exchanged worried glances; just knowing Murdoc had information that he could use against them.

"I can't believe Susan would do that," Jack said almost to himself. "I trusted her."

Wendy leaned towards Jack, putting a hand on his. "It's the worst kind of betrayal. I'm so sorry, Jack. We think she left well ahead of Murdoc's plan being implemented to throw suspicion onto me and off of her. Apparently there was a large sum paid to her then. We think smaller payments have continued as she's accessed and passed on more information. She had made some notes of conversations you had with her…about Mac," Wendy glanced nervously from one to the other and Mac shifted giving Jack a side-glance that said it was ok.

"She had noted that if Mac ever did decide on therapy, the sensory deprivation tank might have been a good choice. Mac, Jack was worried about you; the dreams, difficulty relaxing. It did not seem out of place, so when you came to see me, I remembered that. I had no idea that it was some kind of manipulation. I'm so sorry."

After Wendy left, the two sat in the living room silently for a time, just taking in the information. Jack, for his part, was trying to think of what he could have told Susan that could be used as ammunition. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Heck, all of it, he thought.

"Mac, we've gotta make sure Murdoc stays locked up and away from anyone he could pay to use that information against us," Jack said worriedly.

"I know. As soon as I'm up to it…very soon…my plan is to pay a little visit to Murdoc. He has to know he hasn't won." Mac's features were uncharacteristically hard and, if Jack read him right, more determined than ever to speed up his recovery to make that happen.

Mac pushed himself off the couch and headed to the kitchen, making the two of them some coffee. He needed something to do, an outlet for his nervous energy. He felt like pacing, screaming. He growled in frustration, banging the coffee cups onto the counter.

"Mac, I have an idea," Jack said, walking into the kitchen and coming up behind Mac, taking the coffee cups out of his hands gently. "Remember the parts for that old bike that I got you? You haven't finished working on her yet, right? How 'bout we take a stab at it. Take our mind off Doctor Crazy and do something constructive, huh?" Jack suggested.

Mac looked thoughtful. He poured the coffee and finally nodded. "Ok. I don't know…if I can…you know…my hands are not that…coordinated yet." He looked worriedly at his hands, wondering if he could manage a socket wrench and the other tools he'd need. Jack watched as the doubt crossed his friend's face.

"It's ok, Man. I'll help. Between both of us, we'll manage. And it will be good therapy for your fine motor coordination, right?" Jack's reassurance made Mac smile and he nodded again.

"Coffee first. My hands might shake more, but I love a challenge!" Mac joked, a smile finally creeping onto his face.

Jack had gone to the garage to bring in the box of parts Mac wanted to go through. When he came back, Mac had the motorcycle pulled into the middle of the living room and had managed to get himself on the floor, sitting cross-legged next to it. He was carefully eyeing the fuel system when Jack returned, setting the box on the floor next to his friend.

"I think I'm going to start with the carburetor, since that seems to be the biggest problem. There's another in the box, probably, or at least pieces of one, so I can probably put together a new functioning one between the two old ones," Mac rationalized.

Jack nodded, smiling and going through the box, happy his partner's mind was finally on a problem he could actually solve. "Dude you're going to have to work on these small parts on the table, I think," Jack suggested. "You've got to clean the jets and adjust the float, and all the other parts in here, so we'll have to take it apart." Jack pulled the old carburetor and parts from the box and took them to the kitchen counter so Mac could work on them easier. Mac was still trying to get the old parts off the cycle and Jack heard him cursing as the socket wrench went flying across the floor.

"Damn it, Jack, I can't keep a hold of the wrench!" Mac swore in frustration, pushing himself away from the bike.

"Take it easy, Kiddo. Just take your time. We ain't in no hurry," Jack started, but noticing the frustration on the kid's face he decided to give him another option, reaching a hand down to help, but his friend swatted it away.

"It's ok. I'll try it again. My hands just won't cooperate." Jack got down on the floor on his side to lend a hand and between the two, they dislodged the old equipment from the bike and Jack got up to take it to the counter with the rest of the parts. He went back to retrieve Mac, who was still trying to get up off the floor.

"Good job, Brother. Let me give you a hand, ok?" Jack reached his hand down to Mac, who accepted this time and let his friend help him to his feet.

They spent a few hours cleaning the parts with a solvent Mac mixed and passed most of the afternoon that way with more concentration than conversation, and that felt just about right to Mac, at this point.

Jack kept a careful eye on his partner and gave some thought to when it might be best to try to get him to talk about the whole kidnapping experience. He'd been reluctant to do so, seeing as how the neurotoxin had really messed with the kid's psychological as well as his physical state. He just hadn't felt like it was the right time to bring up what was bound to be an emotional topic for Mac. It was hard for Jack, seeing Mac defenseless or vulnerable, and that's what he'd seen in the first few days after his rescue. He knew Mac needed to talk about it; to get it out of his system, and he wasn't likely to do that with anyone else. And if Jack was honest, he needed to vent, himself. He'd been feeling so guilty about introducing Mac to Wendy. And now, well knowing Murdoc had access to some pretty private information left Jack feeling vulnerable too. So Jack felt compelled to bring it up in as safe a situation as he could. That was the least he could do. If Mac wasn't ready, he'd let him know, but Jack determined that it was time to try.

Mac looked up from his completed and cleaned carburetor, smiling with his accomplishment. "There! I think it's done! Should work. What'd you think?" he asked Jack.

"Lookin good, Kiddo. You do nice work! Seems like that fine motor coordination is comin' back, too. Did you even realize you didn't drop any of the small parts as you were workin'?" the older man asked.

"I guess. I kind of forgot about it. Got involved in what I was doing and didn't really think about that, but I guess you're right!" Mac smiled at his friend.

"Excuse me? Did you say I was right? How often does that happen?" Jack chuckled.

"I guess I don't say it often enough, but this was great. I needed it. Thanks, Old Man!" Mac said sincerely, but with a hint of teasing in his voice.

That evening, Jack grabbed two beers out of the frig and made his way to the deck, started a fire and sat down to wait for Mac, as he looked out over the city. Mac sat on the couch with his beer, and silently watched as Jack passed him and headed outside. He figured that was his queue that Jack wanted to talk. It was a pretty familiar routine for them when one of them felt like a private discussion was in order. Mac sighed, not sure at all that he was ready for this. He was tired from the day, shaken from the meeting with Wendy. But he knew Jack was too, and for that reason alone, he stood on shaky legs and made his way outside.

Mac knew Jack would be able to tell in an instant that he was there. There was no sneaking up on Jack unless he was sound asleep, and that wasn't a wise thing to do anyway. As he stepped onto the deck, he noticed Jack had his back to the fire pit and was looking out over the city. He had a chair sitting next to his for Mac, but as he heard Mac approach, he seemed to startle and reached up to wipe at his face. Mac had the distinct impression that Jack had been crying and he was immediately on alert and at the same time, unsure. Maybe he had he misread Jack. Did he even want his company right now? Pushing his insecurities aside, he approached Jack and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Are you ok, Jack? What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Jack turned his head to look at Mac over his shoulder. He smiled through the discomfort a little, letting Mac know it was ok to be in his space.

"Yeah. I wanted to talk to you, Bud. I got something to say. It's been on my mind since you disappeared and we suspected Wendy. Hell, even knowing the truth, it don't help much," Jack started, staring off into the distance. "I'm just damned sorry, Kid," Jack shook his head slightly as a few more tears trailed miserably down his face and he didn't even try to swipe them away.

Mac knew Jack felt bad about Wendy and the kidnapping, but he didn't have a clue how much he'd been keeping to himself. "Jack, you don't have to feel bad about me going to see Wendy. That was my choice; so was the float tank. You know me well enough to know that I wouldn't be pushed into something I didn't want to do. What happened is on me. You rescued me. Jack, do you hear me?" Mac took a knee in front of Jack's chair, trying to meet his eyes so he'd know Mac meant it. "Aw, Jack. I'm not really good at this, but you need to know what it means, knowing there's someone who'd always come for you; find you, no matter what. And that's you, Jack. That's you." Mac had tears in his eyes now, too, but tried to keep them from overflowing, just now. It's not that he felt like he couldn't. There was just more they had to get through and if he started crying now, he just never would.

"Mac, I'm glad you know that and I don't have to waste a lot of hot air convincing you I'd never leave you, Kid. I'm happy you finally really believe that. But man, I was tryin so hard not to say anything against the tank idea, even though I didn't like it. I just wanted it to be your decision and now I just wished I'd spoken up. And the thing with Wendy; I was the one who tried to get you to see a therapist and suggested her. That turned out great." Jack shook his head and took a sip of beer.

"It was a good idea, Jack. We couldn't have known and neither did Wendy. You were pretty shocked about Susan, huh?" Mac studied his friend.

"Uh…yeah. You can't believe some of the stuff I told her, Mac. Really personal shit, ya know? Like about flashbacks, nightmares, missions gone wrong, people I loved and lost, love affairs, break-ups…the shit that went down with Sarah. Stuff that in Murdoc's hands makes me feel more than a little… vulnerable. I can't imagine what he's gonna do with all that ammunition...pretty sure I don't want to know. I'll be waitin' for that shoe to drop for the rest of my life." Jack shook his head, still cringing inside at the thought of the personal information Murdoc might have on him.

Mac struggled for what to say that could give his friend some peace. "Jack, I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. We're just going to have to make sure that Murdoc stays locked away, that he can't use that information. Jack nodded and Mac got up, settling himself in the chair next to Jack's. They sat in silence for a while, sipping their beer, neither feeling pressured to speak.

Jack was thinking he'd really intended for Mac to have time to talk and it was selfish of him to be sitting here talking about himself when Mac was the one that had gotten kidnapped, drugged, and poisoned by the murderous psychopath. Mac seemed thoughtful, but relaxed, so Jack decided to test the waters and see if he was ready to open up about it.

"Mac, this may not be the time to ask, but I've been wondering if you remember anything about being taken or the tank, or anything before the hospital? I mean, you don't have ta talk about anything you don't want to, but if you want to, I'll listen, ok?" Jack looked at his partner and waited for Mac to consider that.

It felt like the butterflies in Mac's stomach swarmed with the apprehension of putting words to his experience and letting himself feel any of it. He'd been trying, and if he was honest, he would have kept trying, to block it out and never think of it again. His subconscious wasn't having it, though, not if the nightmares were any indication.

He dared a glance at Jack and the sincerity he saw in his eyes was almost his undoing. If he was going to talk, he wouldn't be able to look at Jack and get through it. As he thought about it, his hands started to shake. Hell, he felt tremors racing through his body and clenched his jaw and closed his eyes to get some control. But when he did, he saw Murdoc's face, even though he didn't remember ever seeing him through the whole ordeal. But the voice echoed in his head and he felt the tank closing in. All at once he felt dizzy and off balance and threw his arms out, grasping for the walls of the tank. Suddenly, Jack's hand was on his arm and he felt himself pulled back to the present. A gasp escaped him as he flinched and opened his eyes. Jack was crouched in front of him now and he reached up to put a hand behind Mac's neck, squeezing slightly.

"Mac? Where were you just now? Were you remembering bein' in the tank? Come on now, Man, tell me the truth; you gotta try to unload some of that. I'm here, ok?" Jack encouraged.

Mac nodded and swallowed hard. He felt his eyes burning with tears and he felt like if he explained anything he'd been through, he'd lose it. He knew he had to try or he'd never get past it. He continued to stare out, past Jack and over the railing, as he thought about where to start.

"First, I thought it was just a malfunction," Mac took a deep breath and remembered when he first started realizing he was in trouble. "When I felt the whole tank move, I knew it was… him. I think there was something in the bottled water. Not a neurotoxin. Some kind of sedative. I blacked out. Jack, I kind of lost it when I woke up. I remember screaming, sloshing around in the water, calling out…." Mac didn't want to make Jack feel worse knowing that he screamed for him.

"Go on, Mac. Just keep talkin'. It's ok," Jack encouraged. Mac lowered his head, resting it on Jack's forearm as the older man continued to squeeze the back of his neck. His voice lowered to a whisper and Jack bent close to his friend to hear him.

"I screamed…for…you. I'm sorry, Jack. I don't even know why. I knew no one could hear me. Maybe I just knew you'd come for me," Mac admitted thickly, tears starting to stream down his face now.

"Aww, Mac, I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you," Jack whispered. "But you were right when you said you knew I'd come get you. I'm glad you knew that on some level."

Mac told his friend about the toxin, how it caused instant side effects. "I thought I was going to die then, Jack. Couldn't catch my breath. I passed out again. Then the dreams got really intense. I dreamt you died. I dreamt about the night my mother died. I don't know if they were dreams or hallucinations. Felt real enough." Mac reached up to swipe a few tears away, but they were quickly replaced by more. Mac stopped caring-stopped trying to hold it back. He had to talk between sobs now. He really just wanted to cry but he needed to tell Jack just one more thing. "I don't remember… you getting me out. But I remember …feeling safe. You were there and… I was safe." Mac felt like he'd run a mile. His breathing was rapid. His heartbeat tripped along, fast and erratic, as he recalled the fear and trauma. He felt dizzy and nauseous. Suddenly, he was listing to the side, only supported by Jack's arm and feeling...Oh God! I'm gonna puke. Jack!

Jack had been forcing himself to just listen and not interrupt Mac as he got through the painful recollection, but when he felt the sudden weight against his arm, he leaned down to look at the kid's face and his eyes weren't focusing. His face was pale but his cheeks and ears were flushed and he was swallowing convulsively. He pulled Mac up out of the chair and to the railing, supporting him as he leaned his head and shoulders over just in time to have him vomit into the bushes below. He supported Mac with one arm and reached into his pocket for…well whatever he had, and pulled out a crumpled paper towel, using it to wipe Mac's face and then easing him down to the deck and sitting next to him. He reached an arm around his semi -conscious young partner and pulled him over to get his head down below his heart, Mac landing sideways with his head on Jack's leg.

"Ok, there ya go, Bud. You'll be ok now. Just take a few deep breaths," Jack coached, rubbing circles on Mac's back. "It's all over and you're safe. You're safe. You hear me, Man?" Jack almost pleaded.

Mac stirred a little and groaned, as he slowly opened his eyes, trying to sit up. "I hear you, Jack," he ground out, "Just reliving that…it was like being there and feeling…well…very…not safe. Sorry. That was gross." Mac gained a sitting position and leaned back against the railing, making a face at the nasty taste in his mouth.

"Ok, Hoss, we're gonna get you inside, cleaned up and in bed. You're exhausted and wrung out, Man. Enough talkin' for one night." And with that, Jack stood and reached down, draping one of Mac's arms over his shoulder. He wrapped his partner's waist with the other arm, and securely walked him across the deck and down the steps into the house. He didn't stop until Mac was deposited on the closed toilet lid and then Jack went to get him some shorts to sleep in. When he came back, Mac was still there, head in his hands. Jack ran some warm water and wrung out a washcloth, crouching in front of him and washing his face and hands. He helped him to the sink and handed him a toothbrush and waited for him to start that process before he turned to leave.

"Brush your teeth, Man; get a big drink of water, and do whatever business you need to and I'll meet you in your room in a few." He pulled the door almost closed and went to get himself ready for bed and get a few bottles of water and one of the pain pills Mac had for when they had more severe injuries, because he knew Mac needed some uninterrupted sleep. When he got back to Mac's room, the kid was sitting on the bed like he didn't know what came next. Jack pulled the covers down on the far side of the bed and motioned for Mac to get in bed. He handed him the pill and the water and waited for Mac to argue about taking it. Surprisingly, the younger man took it, looked at it, and without questioning it, popped it into his mouth and washed it down with a big gulp. As Mac collapsed onto the pillow, eyes already closed, Jack pulled up the covers and patted his leg. "There ya go, Bud. That's my boy."

Mac was so exhausted he could barely think, but hearing the familiar, affectionate tone Jack reserved for moments like this made tears well up all over again. A sob escaped and he didn't have the energy to stop it. He rolled to his stomach and buried his face in his arm and just did what he seldom allowed himself to do, and let the tears flow, unchecked.

Jack went around the other side of the bed and lay down on top of the covers, reaching a hand over to card through his friend's hair, reassuringly. "I gotcha, Kid. It's ok. You need some sleep, but you need this too. I'm right here. Long as you need me to be."

Mac settled some and Jack moved his hand to his friend's back, gently rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. Mac croaked out the one word that had more meanings than he could count, "Jack." Please don't leave. I don't know how to tell you I need you. Thanks for having my back, for making me feel safe. It was all of that and more.

Fortunately, Jack was an expert at Mac's implied meanings and he took in the form of his friend, who he knew rarely allowed himself this level of vulnerability. His heart felt like it swelled and for a minute it was hard to breathe, just knowing the kid trusted him so much.

"Alright, I gotchu. Don't worry. I ain't goin nowhere." Jack adjusted his position so he was sitting up against the pillows and headboard, stretched out his legs, keeping his left leg against Mac's back, and rested his hand lightly on the kid's head. He reached for a throw and covered himself with it, and leaned his head back to close his eyes.

Mac felt like it might never stop, but after what seemed like a half hour, he had calmed considerably and sniffed, reaching for some tissues and blowing his nose. Finally, he relaxed back against Jack's leg again. "Hey Jack?," he said quietly, still sounding congested and shaky.

"Yeah, Bud?"

"Don't look now, but I think you're doing the dad thing again." There was the tiniest hint of teasing in Mac's voice and Jack was reassured that he was feeling better.

"Well, I guess I might be. So how'm I doin'?" Jack smiled, always a little surprised and warmed when Mac saw him that way.

"The best, Jack. G'night."

"You too, Kiddo. 'Night," Jack smiled.

Chapter 11

When Jack woke up, Mac was still lying half on his stomach and half on his side, up against Jack, snoring slightly. He got up slowly and silently to go and make some coffee, deciding to bring it back to the room and sit in the chair til Mac woke up. Even though he'd slept well, he didn't dare leave him alone longer than he had to. While he was making the coffee, Bozer wandered out into the kitchen. Jack figured he must have come in some time after he and Mac had fallen asleep.

"Hey, Jack! Where's Mac? He's not up yet?" Bozer asked.

"Nah. Really rough night, Boze. I think we should let him sleep. I gave him a pill…one of the strong ones," Jack explained, giving Bozer a look that said how bad the night really was.

"He finally talk about Murdoc? Cause that's been comin a long time, Jack," Bozer leaned against the counter across from Jack, accepting the offered cup of coffee.

"Yeah, we talked…enough that we'll want to hose down those bushes in the back yard under the deck," another knowing look from Jack.

"You mean he puked? Were you two drunk? What were you thinkin…"

Jack held up a hand and lowered his voice, "Bozer, we were stone cold sober. Like I said, it was rough."

"Damn!" Bozer shook his head and sipped his coffee. The two heard Mac stirring and exchanged glances. Jack turned and pulled a bottle of aspirin out of the cabinet, a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and handed them to Bozer with a dishtowel, then handed him a cup of coffee for Mac.

"He's gonna need all these…at least." Jack motioned with his eyes for Bozer to take the items in to Mac, giving Bozer a chance to do a little mother-henning, just because he knew Bozer would want to and truthfully, Mac might be happy to see his friend.

Bozer stopped short at Mac's door, just as Mac opened it. "Hey Mac! Damn! Are you ok?" Bozer took in the puffiness of his friend's face, the fact that his eyes were mere slits, his hair stuck out in ten different directions, and he could barely keep himself upright.

"Fine, Boze. Bathroom," Mac murmured and pushed past Bozer to use the facilities. When he leaned on the vanity and looked in the mirror, he wished he hadn't slept on his face and he completely understood Bozer's reaction. Damn, I look like shit! When he got back, he sat on the bed and Bozer handed him two aspirin and water, which Mac gratefully accepted for the second time in 24 hours… That said something.

"I brought you some coffee, courtesy of the guy in our kitchen who looks almost as bad as you. Now get back under the covers and drink this." As Mac nodded resignedly, he sat back against the headboard holding his coffee and sipping it while Bozer wrapped up the cold peas and motioned for him to put them on his face. Mac leaned his head back, cracking half a smile as he took the cold pack and applied it to his eyes and forehead. He groaned in relief at how good the coldness felt against his swollen eyes.

"Thanks, Boze. I know I look pretty bad to deserve this level of mothering from you," Mac mumbled.

"Dude, you look like you went a few rounds in a boxing ring, minus the bruises. Keep that ice on. Maybe you'll be able to see out your eyes in an hour or so. Your head hurts, huh?" Bozer asked sympathetically.

"I'll live. Where's Jack? He ok?" Mac wondered just how much sleep his friend got and why Bozer said he looked so bad.

"He'll be in. He's drinking his coffee and probably making you something to eat."

"Don't wanta eat, Boze," he said miserably.

"Well aspirin on an empty stomach's no good, so maybe just a few bites of toast or something. Later, when you feel better, I'll make you whatever you want, ok, Bro?"

Jack came in with his coffee and a plate of toast and set it down on the table on Mac's side of the bed. He took up residence in the chair and flipped on the TV. "How you doin', Mac? Boze got you all set up?" Mac just nodded and grunted an mmmhhumm. "Alright, well I just heard Bozer tell you to eat some toast and here it is, so get something into you and we'll take it slow today, ok?" Jack suggested as he propped his feet on the bed, watching the news and drinking his coffee.

"Thanks, guys. I'm good. Just need a few minutes, then I'll get a shower. I have plans for today," Mac said. Bozer and Jack exchanged somewhat worried glances at Mac's tone since neither had any idea what those plans included.

"You care to elaborate on that, Hoss?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"I'm going to see Murdoc," Mac said without moving.

"Uh, Mac," Bozer started, "you might want to wait until you've got your game face on, Dude."

"I plan on it. Maybe by this afternoon, Boze."

"Well, you ain't goin' alone; that's for damn sure," Jack asserted.

Bozer nodded, "I'm comin too, Mac."

"Well, you can drive over with me if you want, but I'm going in alone. That's final." Mac felt like his voice didn't quite convey how strongly he felt about that, but he hoped his body and emotions would fall in line with his plan.

Bozer busied himself in the kitchen making Mac's favorite waffles with fruit, having pried out of his roommate what he would eat. Jack was on the phone with Matty trying to get clearance for the three of them at the maximum-security prison Murdoc was currently calling home. He paced the living room, explaining what Mac had in mind.

"Matty, his mind's made up; he's going to confront Murdoc and I have no intention of letting him go alone. Even if I have to wait in the hall and look through a mirrored window, I'm goin' with him. Pretty sure Bozer won't take 'no' on that either," Jack argued. Bozer stopped what he was doing and nodded at Jack.

"Damn straight," was all he said.

"I'll see what I can do to get all three of you in the building, but only Mac is going in the interview room with Murdoc…understand, Dalton?" Matty relented with the unspoken warning.

Just then, Mac walked into the living room, showered and dressed, and looking more himself than he actually felt. He nodded at Jack and took his coffee cup to the kitchen, pouring himself another. He leaned on the counter watching Bozer make his famous creation. He shook his head, smiling to himself with the knowledge that his friends were working so hard to do what he needed. He swallowed some coffee around the lump growing in his throat.

"Lookin' almost human there, Dude. Have some of these waffles and let us know what your plan is with our least favorite crazy, mask-wearing psychopath," Bozer said, heaping a few waffles on a plate and covering them with strawberries. He pushed the butter and syrup toward Mac and sat at the counter waiting to see his friend actually eat.

Jack followed suit and helped himself to breakfast. "I want to know that too, Bro. Let's hear the plan. And eat!" Jack directed fondly.

Mac smiled and shook his head, digging into the waffles and taking a big bite, finally realizing just how hungry he was.

"Thanks, Boze; these are amazing. And, Jack, thanks for calling Matty to clear the way. Thanks for…well…everything," Mac said, a little embarrassed, but Jack just cast a wink his way and held up his coffee as if to toast his friend.

"You know I gotchu, Bro. Bozer too."

"Yeah, I know you do," Mac said, raising his cup to both men.

Chapter 12

The ride to the prison was a quiet one, all three lost in their own thoughts. When they pulled into the parking lot, Mac got out of the car and straightened up to full height. Jack looked at his partner and noticed his game face was now completely in place. There was almost no hint of the emotional turmoil from the night before- well maybe not visible to anyone but Jack. There was still a haunted look behind his eyes that Jack hoped would be gone by the time he was face to face with Murdoc. Bozer and Jack fell into step on either side of Mac as they entered the heavily guarded gray facility that was surrounded in barbed wire. Several security stations and thick metal doors later, they stood outside the interview room. There was a two-way mirror on the wall and the guard pointed to the prisoner inside.

Jack and Bozer nodded to Mac and stood by the mirror, turning the speaker on as Mac motioned for the guard to open the door.

Mac stepped into the room. As he heard the steel door click and buzz behind him, he had to resist the urge to flinch. Murdoc smiled at him from where he sat behind the table. Mac glanced at the evil face, meeting his eyes and forcing his face into a hard, expressionless mask. He strode confidently to the table and stood leaning slightly toward the psychopath. He said nothing, just stared and watched Murdoc's face morph from an evil grin to a threatening glare.

"Why MacGyver, what a pleasant…scratch that…unpleasant surprise. You're looking well. Too bad. I was hoping for a little limp, perhaps a dragging foot, slurred speech…Wait! You can speak, can't you?" Murdoc practically hissed.

Mac smiled slightly, "I'm just fine, Murdoc; just fine. Thanks for asking. Your concern is touching. I'm here to ask a few questions and to issue a warning."

"Really? What makes you think I have any interest in answering your questions or that I'd heed any warning of yours?" Murdoc spat out.

"Because we have your son, Cassian," Mac answered flatly, "and I want to know what you hoped to gain by kidnapping me. Was it just a little game to you? Cat and mouse, or did you have some other end game in mind? Don't get me wrong; I really don't expect you'll tell me, but since it didn't work out so well for you, you don't have anything to lose."

"But, really, MacGyver, it worked out fine for me. I have everything I need. Well, true, I would like to have played the game a little longer, but all of my objectives were realized. I'm sure you can't say the same," Murdoc stated, ending with a slithery smile that made Mac's skin crawl. "And your friends, I trust they're fine? I do hope so. I've got plans for them."

Mac smashed his fist on the table angrily before reigning it in. "You know I'm the one you want! Leave my team…my friends…alone!"

"Oh MacGyver, you are delightfully obtuse when blinded by protectiveness. It's adorable, really. Why of course, your friends ARE the best way to get to you! And now, thanks to our dear mutual friend, Susan, I have so many new and wonderful ways to do that. How is Jack, anyway? And his old pal, Sarah?" Murdoc hissed, glancing at the glass.

Jack winced and shifted his feet. "Boze, would you mind not listening to this? Just, you know, take a short walk down the hall, please?" Jack whispered but his tone was almost desperate and Bozer took it seriously and nodded, walking away from the window. Jack turned the speaker down so he couldn't hear from down the hall. He was dying to know what Susan's chart had revealed, but at the same time, the growing knot in his stomach warned that this was going to hurt.

"Jack is just fine and, if you know what's good for you, he'd better stay that way. Sarah too," Mac replied tightly. "If you so much as use one shred of what you've learned from our files, I promise you, not only will you never see Cassian again, he'll find out just what a monster you are, Murdoc."

"And why would I care? I know you would never harm a child, MacGyver. And really, I have never been part of his life, so of what value is your threat? I will do what I want with the information and you will never see it coming! So my goal of destroying you is already partially accomplished! You and your dear fatherly friend may never have another good night's sleep; not that you do now, what with all of those disturbing nightmares that prey on the two of you! The PTSD Jack experiences from time to time, his feelings of inadequacy and pushing the beautiful Sarah away….tragic, really," Murdoc fake-shuddered, "And speaking of your father…the next time I see him…"

"That's enough! Don't even think you can bait me with that one, Murdoc! You have no more idea than I as to his whereabouts. If you did, you would have played that card already!" Mac's voice was raised but controlled, but he felt like he was losing it fast. He was shaking with anger now, and trying to conceal it was taking a lot of energy he didn't really have.

"Well, maybe that's true and maybe not. But if it is, you know it would be so good to find him, wouldn't it? A fun little game of who will find Daddy first? I'll bet it would be me, MacGyver, and wouldn't that be a fun game? Will you find him in time to get the answers you want so desperately? Tsk… tsk… tsk…maybe you'll just have to make due with that 'substitute father,' Jack. If he were an adequate substitute, I doubt you'd be in such a hurry…."

Jack stood rock still, his eyes filling with tears he didn't want there and anger coursing through him for what Murdoc was doing. He wanted to burst in that room and strangle…literally strangle that man, but he had to let Mac handle this. And he really hoped he could handle it. Murdoc was hitting below the belt with the daddy stuff and Jack really hoped Mac wouldn't take the bait.

"Murdoc! Stop right there. You have no idea what Jack is to me and as to the reason I want to find my dad, that is none of your business! One has nothing to do with the other. Someone as damaged as you could never understand how a good man like Jack thinks. Regardless of what you say, I think you do care about Cassian and if you know what's good for you and him, stay clear of me and my team." Mac felt like he could reach across that table and kill Murdoc with his bare hands, but he felt his anger taking over and his physical strength waning. He didn't want to show either weakness. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him and yelling for the guard. He instantly leaned his back against the wall, his whole body vibrating with emotion. Jack reached for him, but Mac gave him a warning glare and shook his head. He knew there were cameras everywhere and certainly Murdoc could find a way to access them. He nodded toward the way out and took a deep breath, as the two made their way down the hall toward Bozer.

"You ok, Mac?" Bozer asked. Bozer took in the hard expression of both men and got the hint. "Oh, ok, yeah, sure you're good. Let's get out of here."

Jack caught Bozer's eye and practically whispered, "When we get out the doors, get the car…fast…ok, Boze?" Jack was noticing Mac's determined stare toward the end of the hall, but, as much as he tried to look steady and confident, Jack could see the kid was almost hyperventilating, shaky and pale. Heck, he felt a little that way himself, but he hadn't been the one in that room. When the doors closed behind them and they had rounded the building to the parking lot, Jack put a hand on his partner's back. "Hang in there, Mac, just another minute." Bozer ran ahead and was back with Jack's car in minutes. It seemed like hours while Jack felt the tremors course through Mac's back and noted that his gaze was locked straight ahead, fixed on some point far away.

Jack opened the back door of the car and motioned for Mac to get in and he quickly climbed in behind him and slammed the door. "We're still on camera, Man, hold on," Jack coached, seeing how pale Mac looked. The second they were down the street and out of camera range, Jack reached over and slung his arm over Mac's shoulders, pulling his partner into his side. When he looked over, the younger man was unconscious.

"Bozer! Pull over! He's out cold," Jack yelled, his concern amping up when even his yelling didn't wake Mac up.

"Crap! Is he ok?" Bozer was checking in the mirror and looking from Jack to Mac. As he pulled over into a pull-off area, where he was sure there were no hack-able cameras, Jack checked Mac's pulse in his neck, relieved when he found it strong and steady. He was breathing fine, so Jack surmised he'd just passed out from hyperventilating and stress. He pulled Mac's shoulders down so he was bent over, head between his knees and rubbed his back a little roughly, waiting for him to get enough oxygen to his brain to bring him around.

"C'mon, Mac, wake up. It's all over. We're on the way home. C'mon, now, Bud, sleeping when Boze is drivin' is never a good idea!" Jack coaxed, which elicited a screech from Bozer. "Just kiddin', Boze!"

Mac groaned and started to try to sit up. "Just a minute now, Kiddo, take some deep breaths first," Jack encouraged, slowing down the rough massage of the kid's back to more gentle circles. Mac just nodded and moved enough to rest his forehead on Jack's knee. He took a few deep breaths and mumbled. "What was that, Man?"

"Gonna…puke!" Mac exclaimed, but couldn't move himself out of the car. He was making arm movements, but not actually effectively moving.

"Oh, gottcha!" Jack was out the door and hauling Mac out with him in seconds, kneeling down with him next to the car and holding him up from face-planting in the parking lot when the kid started heaving. Jack held his friend's shoulders and Mac finally stopped bringing anything up and just continued to dry-heave. "Easy, Bud, nothing else is comin up, just try to relax and breathe now. You're ok," Jack reassured.

Bozer got out of the car and came around to the passenger side to see what he could do, but not one to deal well with sickness, he stood by and tried to offer what assistance he could. "Oh, man, you ok Mac? I'll get you some cold water." He opened the trunk and pulled out paper towels and a bottle of water, opening it and taking it back to Mac, who was now sitting back against the car, pale and sweating.

"Thanks, Boze," Mac accepted the water gratefully. "Sorry about that, guys. I was…I mean…I had to…be so careful…controlled...with Murdoc." Mac stumbled, trying to explain what happened.

"You don't need any more reason, Bud. You were doin' great. You controlled yourself right into hyperventilating and you're still not back to your usual self, strength-wise, so don't go getting down on yourself about feelin' sick. You gotta right. Just take as long as you need and then we'll get ya home," Jack reassured, patting his young friend on the leg and then pulling him into a half hug.

Mac smiled, thankful Jack and Bozer were there and also a little embarrassed about puking his guts up in front of anyone, even them. Bozer squatted down, handing Mac a few paper towels he pulled out of the trunk and put his hand on Mac's other shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Man. Let's get you home."

"Sounds good. I'm ready." Mac pushed himself up, accepting a hand from each man and standing on wobbly legs, and climbed into the front seat this time, resting his head back for the ride home. Neither he nor Jack mentioned any of the threats Murdoc made. They'd save that for later, when it was just the two of them, not that there was much they could do about it, except wait for the other shoe to drop, but they didn't want to bring up any of it in front of Bozer. "Hey Jack?"

"Yeah buddy?"

"I have my follow up with the doc tomorrow. I'm planning on getting cleared for light duty until my strength is back to normal, but I want to start training again. You up for that?" Mac asked hopefully.

"You betcha, Hoss; long as you're cleared. You'll be dancing around the ring in no time!" Jack smiled so Mac could see him in the mirror.

"Good. But right now, I'm ready for a nap and a movie night!" He glanced at Bozer. "You up for that, Boze?"

"Absolutely. How bout I go get Riley and bring her over so we can have a team movie night?" Bozer smiled, glancing at Mac and to the back seat at Jack.

"You got it, Man. Sounds about right," Mac smiled and settled back, closing his eyes and looking forward to de-stressing with his team…with his family. Because being with family was the only place he wanted to be right now.

Later, after the first 2 Star Wars movies, a few beers, and 3 pizzas later, Bozer was taking Riley home and Jack was cleaning up. Mac had fallen asleep midway through the second movie, the events of the day finally having caught up with him. Jack didn't disturb him, hoping he'd get a good nap, but soon he heard the murmurings indicating the start of a night terror or at least a vivid nightmare. He approached the couch, set his beer on the coffee table, and shook his partner lightly on the shoulder. "Yo, Mac, wake up, Bud." Mac jolted upright, eyes wide, gasping for breath.

"I'm ok. Jack? Sorry. I'm ok."

"Yes, you are." Jack handed him a cold water bottle and sat down on the sofa by Mac's feet. "Lemme guess; Murdoc?"

"Uh huh. Who else?" Mac admitted, scrubbing his face with his hands and pushing them through his hair. "That discussion today. Not very reassuring. He's got a lot. I guess you heard." Mac glanced at Jack and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Sarah. He knows about Sarah. Knows her name. That scares the hell outta me, Bud."

Mac nodded. "Well, he may not have her last name or anything else about her. Do you think he knows where my dad is? Or do you think he's trying to find him too? Cause, I gotta tell you, Jack, if he is, we've gotta get to him first." He waited for Jack to respond.

"I don't know, Mac, but we've gotta try to keep him from contacting his associates and getting that information to anyone who could use it. I'm gonna have to warn Sarah, too. That should be fun." Jack stared off out the dark window.

"It's ok, Jack. She'll understand and she's got resources to keep her ahead of Murdoc's game. I don't know what kind of resources my dad has, so I have to find him. I have to get to him first," Mac clenched and unclenched his fists. His expression grim but determined.

"I know, man, you need your pop around now. I wish I had my own around when things suck like this. We'll find him, Bud," Jack patted Mac's knee and took a sip of beer.

"Jack, I don't think you understand." Mac looked intently at Jack now, not sure how to make this clear. "I need to find my father because I want to make sure he's safe. I need answers, a connection, maybe to be a part of his life in some way. But he's never going to be like…. a dad. I thought we were clear on this, Big Guy; you are the only one I've ever allowed to be like a dad to me. You're the only one that's earned it. I don't need another dad, Jack. That position is filled and I'm not taking any new applications. Clear?"

Jack managed a smile and a slight nod, swallowed around the lump in his throat, and held up his fist, which Mac bumped with his own. "Yeah, we're clear. Thanks, Bud."