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"Loyalty means nothing unless it has at its heart the absolute principle of self-sacrifice."

~~~~~ Woodrow Wilson.

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"Hey Dalton, what are you doing here?"

Jack was startled out of his daydreaming; he'd been thinking of how great it was going to be to spend time with his family. Ever since he won the Christmas Lottery for his unit, he'd been planning out what he wanted to do with the limited time he would be home. Wanting to eat as many home-cooked meals as possible was at the top of his list.

"What do you mean, Langston?" Jack asked, having to raise his voice to be heard.

Langston was apparently the last to arrive for the flight home, and now the plane was prepping for takeoff. Jack was confused by the question, since the flight they were on was for one purpose only.

"I thought that blond kid you're overwatch for won the lottery for your unit," Langston said as he sat and strapped in.

Denial was on the tip of his tongue, when a pit started to open up in Jack's stomach.

He shrugged, and tried to play it off as a mistake, despite feeling certain it wasn't. "I guess you heard wrong."

"I don't think so, Dalton. The lottery winners were called in and informed one by one. I was going in as your EOD tech was leaving."

The pit in his stomach opened even wider before starting to fill with dread, anger, guilt, wonder, gratitude, and more. He forced a smile, and said, "MacGyver was doing me a solid, taking the meeting while I was debriefing elsewhere."

"That was good of him, considering."

"Yeah… It was," Jack said, thankful they were about to takeoff, and that it would be too noisy to carry on the conversation.

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Soon after takeoff, Jack pretended to settle down for a nap. However, though his eyes were closed and his body relaxed, his mind was fully awake.

His bomb nerd had won the lottery every soldier prayed to win, regardless of religion, and he gave it up? Not only had the kid given up a chance to go home, to leave the violence of war behind for a time, but he'd somehow convinced the higher ups that his overwatch should get the ticket home instead of another name being drawn?

Jack was having trouble reconciling the idea that anyone would do something like that, make that kind of sacrifice, for him.

Why wouldn't MacGyver want to go home? Didn't Mac want to see his friends and family? His EOD tech was pretty tightlipped about pretty much anything having to do with his life prior to the age of sixteen. The kid had mentioned a best friend more than once, but Jack couldn't recall ever having heard anything about MacGyver's biological family.

Suddenly, his mind jumped to another possibility. Was this some form of payback for him choosing to re-up and insisting he and Mac work together until the kid was discharged?

He simply couldn't wrap his mind around the whole thing. All he could really comprehend at the moment was how thankful he was for the precious gift Angus had given him.

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His visit was far too short, but it had been more than worth the jetlag just to see his family again. The last-minute decision to re-up had earned him more flak from his family than he'd ever taken from a commanding officer in his entire career. However, being able to come home for a short visit at Christmas had smoothed things over a bit.

The time at home with his family, which had ended up turning into a mini reunion, had been a breath of fresh air for his soul. It was something he hadn't realized he needed until he was sitting in the great room of his sister's house filled to the brim with family being their normal raucous selves. He felt like he'd grinned like a loon practically the whole time he'd been home.

He was more thankful to the kid than MacGyver would ever know. And, given what was in his bag besides the freshly laundered clothes, his family was determined to show his EOD tech how thankful they were for the unexpected gift of having Jack home for Christmas.

Carefully wrapped to maintain freshness, and to keep it from crumbling to tiny pieces, was a batch of his sister's homemade cornbread. They'd had basketfuls with their Christmas dinner, but his sister had made and set aside a batch just for Mac. It was the only thing from their dinner which would survive the 16-hour trip back and still be safe to eat. On the way to the airport, they'd even stopped at a grocery store to pick up a small, plastic container of honey as an extra treat, hoping the younger man wouldn't mind the fact it was shaped like a bear.

Also stashed in his duffle were a couple of Christmas cards filled with signatures and words of gratitude for what MacGyver had done. In another envelope were several drawings done by the kids. It didn't feel like enough, but he was fairly certain Angus would consider it far too much.

At the beginning of December, MacGyver had received an envelope. Inside had been a Christmas card, presumably from the kid's family. MacGyver had opened it, chuckled as he read the inscription, and then put it away, not saying another word about it. Since then, Jack hadn't seen the kid receive anything else via regular mail for Christmas. And, as long as he'd known the bomb nerd, Jack could only ever recall MacGyver mentioning having video chats with his best friend, Bozer. There was never anything about…

When the realization hit him, it felt as if he would never be able to get back out from under the weight of it. It wasn't that the younger man didn't want to go home and see his family; it was that Mac didn't have any family to go home to. And, instead of going home to see his friends, MacGyver had given his ticket to someone who did still have a family.

Jack's eyes started to sting at the idea, and he had to work hard to keep any tears from forming, thereby damaging his reputation as a hard-core Delta. The kid was what? Nineteen years old? Twenty? He'd yet to get the kid to give up a birth date or even an exact age.

He knew you didn't have to share DNA to consider someone family, but to be that young and alone in that respect could not be easy. His father had passed less than five years ago, and he still keenly felt the loss despite being well into adulthood and still having lots of other family. He could only imagine what it must be like for Mac, who might very well be an orphan. His heart hurt for the kid, and it made him even more certain he'd made the right decision to re-up in order to keep protecting his slowpoke bomb nerd.

So many little details made sense now that he'd figured out Mac didn't have any close blood relations left in the world. It hadn't been very long since he'd started considering the kid a friend of his, but lately he'd had the feeling they would someday be best friends, perhaps even family of the heart.

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When he'd finally arrived back at his barracks, it was past midday and everyone was out on assignment. His stomach was twisting itself into knots over the idea that someone who wasn't him had been providing cover for his friend for the past several days, and then he felt guilty for not thinking of it sooner. He hoped the soldier watching over MacGyver realized how important it was to keep this particular EOD tech safe, and it wasn't just because Jack would beat the tar out of him if the kid came back wounded.

As he walked towards his bunk, he sighed and tried to let go of his anxiety over not being out there to watch over Mac. When he was close enough, he noticed one of the kid's paperclip sculptures was lying on his pillow.

Of course, it still went unacknowledged that Mac was the sculptor, but they each knew the score in that regard. At this point, it was a game, a running joke between them, and he intended to keep it that way until Mac decided otherwise and fessed up to the weird hobby.

This time the sculpture was of a miniature version of the outline of the state of Texas with a lone star suspended roughly in the middle. It was the most complex one he'd seen to date, and he wondered anew at why MacGyver was a boot in the Army instead of using his smarts to solve world hunger or some other global issue.

He sat on his bunk and studied the paperclip model of Texas that had been left on his pillow. It made him doubt the "you're an idiot, but thank you so much" tack he'd already planned on taking the next time he spoke to MacGyver. For the first time, he considered the idea it would be a mistake to give Mac the cards his family had sent back with him.

In the end, Jack decided to forget the speech, and be low-key about his response to the gifts Mac had given him. He rifled through his duffle and pulled out the cards, before straightening and sticking them under the covers of Mac's top bunk, leaving only one corner sticking out so Mac wouldn't accidentally crush them. For the time being, he kept the cornbread and honey hidden, knowing some of the other guys in the barracks would think nothing about filching the homemade treat.

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With one thing or another, Jack didn't see Mac until dinner time.

Entering the mess, he spotted the kid right away, but Mac seemed to be engrossed in whatever he was reading, a forkful of food left hanging half-way to the younger man's mouth.

The moment someone said his name, Jack noticed Mac's head snap up so fast that he wondered if the kid got whiplash as a result. His bomb nerd seemed barely able to stay in his seat; Mac was nearly vibrating off the bench he was sitting on. It warmed his heart to know that the kid seemed to be excited to see him again.

By the time he made it to the table MacGyver was sitting at, the kid had forced himself into some semblance of nonchalance. "Hey, Jack."—Mac held out a fist for a fist bump—"How was your trip home?"

Jack set his tray down and bumped his fist against Mac's. He smiled and said, "It was great. My sister picked me up from the airport, but the whole family was waiting for me at…"

At first, Jack had planned to limit his story about his Christmas to generalities, not wanting to make the kid regret his choice or feel sad about not having been with his own family. But with Mac being so interested in every detail, asking questions, and seeming so happy for him, Jack ended up going into more and more detail, basically only leaving out sleeping and latrine breaks from his description.

When he finished, Jack leaned forward, checked to make sure he was not going to be overheard, and said, "I brought something back for you, bud."

"Jack…" Mac said, trialing off and looking uncomfortable. "You didn't have to do that."

"I didn't. Well, sorta." Jack chuckled. "Actually, my sister insisted, and I just went along with it. It's just better off for everyone that way, though the other part was my idea."

"Okaaay…" Mac said, both sounding and looking confused by what Jack had just said. "But why? I mean, your sister doesn't know me, so I don't get—"

Jack shrugged, and said, "My family asked about my current assignment, and you know how much we can't tell them, right?" When Mac nodded and a look of understanding dawned on the kid's face, he continued, "Well… I told them as much as I could and mentioned you – the scrawny, blond-haired, know-it-all, wonder kid that I get to work with every day"—Jack pointed his fork at Mac and grinned—"though not in those words of course."

Mac chuckled and shook his head. There was a gleam in the kid's eye when he said, "Of course, though I still think you mean wunderkind."

"Whatever, man," Jack laughed. Leave it to his friend to not forget a detail like that from their first conversation. "Anyway, the word 'scrawny'"—he winked—"activated my sister's motherly-instincts radar, and she sent something for you."

"Where is it?"

"Back in barracks. You know if I gave it to you here, the wolves"—he nodded towards some of the other guys in the mess who were from their barracks—"would pounce and devour the lot before you could have any. Be patient, man."

Mac chuckled and said, "Yeah, alright."

"How was your Christmas, dude?" Jack asked, almost dreading the answer. He already felt a bit bad for omitting the fact that he, and his family, knew about how he'd won the lottery from his stories about home.

"It was alright," Mac said and shrugged. "A video chat with Boze. Special lunch in the mess. Got called out almost immediately afterwards."

"Who was your overwatch?"

"Someone who didn't complain all the time about how fast or slow I was at my job."

"Maybe not out loud."

Mac laughed and then continued sharing details of the past couple of days. Knowing the kid had been out with a different person every day had him surreptitiously – he hoped – checking to see if Mac had suffered any damage while out in the field. Jack considered it an extra Christmas present that the big man upstairs had chosen some good guys to look after his bomb nerd while he'd been gone. He wasn't sure he would've been able to live with himself if MacGyver had been killed while he'd been home for Christmas.

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After finishing their dinner, the two cleared their trays and started heading back towards their barracks, but Jack was stopped by several of his friends who asked about his trip home. He gestured to Mac that he would meet the younger man in their barracks as soon as he could. With a nod, Mac left the mess.

It was only after someone he'd known for a while asked about his sister's famous cornbread, that Jack realized Mac might had probably already found the thank you cards from his family. By now, Mac was aware that Jack knew about how he'd won the Christmas Lottery. In his mind, he cursed up a storm that would've had his mother washing his mouth out with soap for the next millennia. As soon as he could, Jack broke away from his friends and hurried to his barracks, hoping Mac was still there.

Jack's sigh of relief that Mac stuck around quickly turned into another creative, yet silent, curse as he entered the room. Mac was sitting on the top bunk of the bed, back towards him and hunched over as if he had the weight of the world on his back.

He walked up to their shared bunk beds, and saw that Mac was staring down at the cards his family had made for the kid. Jack had no clue what the younger man was thinking, and wasn't sure what to say.

Jack bent over to reach for the zipper of his duffle, intent on getting out the package of cornbread and bottle of honey. "Can I ask why?"

When Mac replied, the words were said so softly that he almost didn't catch them. "Because you stayed."

His heart instantly broke with those words, and he thought, Oh God, kid, what has Life done to you?

Because he was absolutely certain he wasn't meant to have heard those words, he straightened and said, "What was that? Speak up, dude."

Mac put the small pile of cards under his pillow, jumped down from his bunk, and turned towards him. "I said, 'Why what?'"

From the pleading expression on the younger man's face, Jack had the impression Mac would rather cut off a limb with that little red knife of his than answer the question of why he'd let Jack have his lottery ticket home for Christmas.

Based on his theory about the kid not having any blood family and the softly-spoken, original answer to his question, Jack decided to let the kid off the hook. It was the least he could do. Perhaps someday he would get a real answer to his question of why from Mac. He doubted it, but it was a nice thought.

He bent over and pulled the cornbread out of his duffle, handing the package to his bomb nerd. "Why aren't you going to give me a piece?"

Mac looked equal parts relieved and confused. "I never said you wouldn't get any, but now that you mention it…"

"Hey, come on... Pleeeaaase."

"You've probably already had twice the amount you just gave me."

"And your point is?"

Mac laughed. "The point is that your sister sent it to me. Me, not you. Why should I share?"

Jack reached into his bag for the bottle of honey and held it up. "Because I have this? I'll give it to you if you give me a piece."

"I'm pretty sure the honey is that 'other part' you mentioned earlier, and now you're holding it hostage?"

"Yep," Jack said without any shame.

Mac rolled his eyes, huffed out a frustrated breath, and said, "Fine."

They traded the "hostages" over the top of Mac's bunk, both men grinning like idiots.

Mac quickly tore off another a piece of cornbread and took a bite. With his mouth half-full, he said, "Oh my God, Jack… This is sooo good! Tell your sister thank you from me next time you talk to her."

"Will do, bud," Jack said. "Thank you."

"For what?"

While he casually, but purposefully, laid his hand on Mac's pillow, which was covering the thank you cards, Jack shoved the entire piece of cornbread he'd just been given into his mouth. He then pointed towards his mouth as if to indicate it was the real answer to his friend's question, though he knew Mac had seen and understood the deliberate gesture.

"Gross, Jack," Mac said, belying his words with the shy smile on his face.

As he chewed, and tried to swallow the mouthful of cornbread, Jack thought about his still-new friendship with Mac. Ever since his EOD tech had risked his life to save him from the IED he'd triggered back when he'd only had two weeks left in his last hitch, Jack had felt himself starting to get attached to the kid. Attached enough that he'd re-upped just to protect the wunderkind until Mac was discharged.

Now, with the Christmas Lottery, and his realizations about Mac's family, Jack recognized his attachment to the kid had only increased since then, and he vowed to do his best to be there for Mac from now on.

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The end.

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A/N: I bet you weren't expecting a sort of Christmas-themed story in July, were you? I wasn't either – LOL! I turned on the TV recently, and caught the end of a Christmas movie. A soldier dad surprised his family by being there for Christmas, saying he won the lottery to come home for the holiday. I couldn't get the idea out of my head, and stopped working on another story to write this one. I apologize for anything I might have got wrong regarding the military as it was portrayed in this story.

Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for proofing! Remaining mistakes are mine.

Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: MacGyver is not mine. You know that, right? Anyway, I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.