How many times did Mac have to be in this situation? Dammit, he's a good man; he didn't deserve it. The constant stays in the hospital, the constant battle with his emotions and memories… Jack had had enough. Every time he saw his kid in that hospital bed, crying, shaking, bleeding, etc. Didn't the poor thing deserve a break? That's exactly what he was going to get. A big, long break. No missions, no leaving the house. Just sleep and pizza and beer. Because this was just ridiculous.

Mac groaned at the pain radiating from his arm. A healing dislocation was never fun to wake up to. Yet, it was better than it was the day before. Jack snored in the livingroom, eliciting a laugh from Mac. If only that feeling would have remained with him.

The memories of the previous mission flooded his mind, bringing tears to his eyes. He did everything he could to to push it out, to ignore the pain that threatened to kill him, squeezing his heart. Those children… it was all his fault.

Mac fell back onto the bed, head in hands, tears freely falling. He couldn't hold back the sobs that followed quickly after. His breaths were ragged and wet. Every sense was a blur. Sight, touch, taste. All but his hearing. The sound of the ceiling fan brought him great anger. The sound of the birds chirping outside made him want to throw his lamp through the window. Why were these arbitrary, small sounds bringing him such anger? He sat, hating every sound that bushed his ears.

Every moment that passed brought him closer and closer to an outburst until he'd finally had enough. He stood, bringing his desk chair up, smashing his fan down, pieces falling to the ground. He threw the chair across his bedroom to collide with the wall, producing a hole in it.

Jack rushed into the room, seeing the chair on the floor alongside the fan debris and the hole in the wall. He watched Mac sit back on the bed, visibly shaking and crying. He quickly went to his kid's side, bringing two firmly gentle hands to his shoulders, attempting to look the younger agent in the eyes. "Mac, hey, what's going on?"

"It's my fault, Jack." Mac's voice was breathy.

"What do you mean? The last mission? What happened to those kids, you mean?"

Mac silently nodded.

"Now, you know that's not true, bud."

"I'm the one who made the call, Jack. Remember?"

:::::::

"We can't take both your team and the kids. Chopper can't take the weight." The pilot informed the agents. It was crushing to hear. Riley and Bozer weren't supposed to be there, but circumstances changed, causing the team to have to adapt, to change the plan.

"Fine," Mac lifted a child off the ground, allowing them to get into the helo, "Take the kids home. We'll find another way."

Jack, Riley and Bozer followed suit, helping kids inside.

"Alright, y'all can go!" Jack closed the door, waving to the children as the chopper ascended into the bright blue sky.

Before anything else could be said, the sound of a missile barreled through the sky, soon being seen by the team. They all cried out as the weapon collided with the aircraft, sending debris and bodies crashing down into the open field. The smell of burning chlorophyll filled the air, the smell of burning flesh and bone following closely after. The agents watched the burn site, tears flowing from all of them.

"I did this…" Mac stared into the blaze, beating himself up inside.

:::::::

"Mac-"

"Don't try and convince me it's not my fault, Jack."

"I won't. I know I can't convince you. It's not, but I know when I'm beating a dead horse," Jack managed to bring Mac's hands from his head, placing them down on the younger agent's knees.

"I made the call. I said to let them into the chopper." Mac's face crinkled, eyes closing while tears fell down his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. Jack came up, sitting next to the agent, bringing him into a hug. He felt the young man shake in his hold. It broke Jack's heart. Mac was so broken inside. Jack hated it. This bright, smart, kind, empathetic, compassionate, talented and every other positive word man deserved so much better, so much more than the world could offer.

"I promise you, Mac, it's not your fault. We could have said no. We could have stayed with the kids and found a different way to get them home. We all could have decided on another way. Matty could have said no, too, y'know. We couldn't have known it was gonna happen. It's the people who launched the missile's fault. Not ours. Not. Yours." Jack held Mac tighter in his arms, doing everything to comfort his kid.

"Jack-"

"If you're gonna disagree, bud, don't bother. I'm right and you know it."

"You're right. It's just…"

"I know," Jack laid his chin on the kid's head. "I know."

"Thanks, Jack." Mac let out a long, much needed, calm exhale. Jack's muscles relaxed at the sound.

"I love you, too, bud."