Bozer moved within the kitchen like water, stirring his gravy, checking the temperature on his roast, cutting the vegetables. Music blasted throughout the house on Mac's homemade stereo and he couldn't help but dance among the aromas of his feast. He saw Mac moving in the corner of his eye; he was supposed to be cleaning but instead kept getting distracted by his random inventions and knickknacks around the house. Bozer shook his head when the doorbell rang.

"Yo, Mac!" He hollered over the old rock song but failed to get his friend's attention. "Mac, I got a roast on, can you get that?" The doorbell rang again. Nothing from the blonde who finally scooped up his trinkets into his arms and moved them back into his study. Bozer turned down the heat on the stove before turning the music off with his elbows and running to the door. "Hello and happy fourth of—" he froze when no one was there but a large box on their doorstep. Bozer stepped outside yet saw no one nearby. He heaved the package inside.

"What's that?" Mac came out, oblivious.

"I don't know," he placed it down and saw no address on it. "That's a little weird isn't it?" Mac responded by silently ushering him away. "What you think it's a bomb or something?!" Bozer retreated into the safety of his kitchen.

"Can't be too sure." Mac almost seemed thrilled by the challenge. He bent down to inspect the old cardboard closer. "You did move it, so it's safe to say it's not motion activated."

"Amazing," Bozer was ducking behind the island. "Can you at least move it outside then?" Mac ignored him and took out his pocket knife to begin carefully slicing open the tape on top. "Mac!" Bozer gasped and Mac simply grinned.

"Calm down,"

"Mac, you don't tell someone a bomb's been dropped off at their house and then tell them to be calm! You don't do that!"

"Well, it's a good thing that you live with someone who used to diffuse them for a living." Mac slowly pried open the flaps; he immediately relaxed.

"What?" Bozer also approached. "That's no bomb. What is it?"

"First guess," he picked up one of the pieces. "I'd say parts to some kind of gun." He delicately ruffled through the package of old metal springs, gears, and plates until one caught his eye, the recoil pad that would've been placed against the gunner's shoulder. Bozer watched his friend's face grow pale.

"Mac, what's wrong?" He moved around until he saw what Mac was seeing, though even then he still didn't understand. "JWD…Winni…some kind of spy code I don't know about yet?"

"Those are Jack's initials." Mac let Bozer take it and move it around in his hands.

"What are his initials doing on a piece of a gun in this random ass box?"

"Because this is his gun…his sniper from Afghanistan."

"I feel like you're making sense Mac, but I'm still lost."

"Winni was what he named his rifle."

"So, what's it doing here?"

"I don't know. He didn't bring it home with him." Mac sighed, trying to wrack his brain around what this could mean when the pot on the stove suddenly began to boil over.

"My gravy!" Bozer's voice went high and he sprinted back into the kitchen when Matty, and Jack's muscle car, pulled up outside. Mac panicked and quickly closed the box, shoving it into the nearest closet when Jack, Riley, and Matty walked themselves inside. Mac quickly locked eyes with Bozer, who still held the piece of the sniper with Jack's initials. He ended up showing it into the cabinet just as he put on a huge smile for their guests. "Welcome, welcome,"

"Bozer, it smells good." Matty smiled and hugged him.

"Happy fourth of July." Bozer then hugged Riley and gaze a loose, handshake-hug to Jack.

"Thanks man." Jack reached out and fist-bumped Mac, the two needing no other greeting. Within minutes, everyone had beers in their hands and they were sitting outside on the patio, waiting for Bozer to come serve them. "I still think we should've had a barbeque, man." Jack sighed. "It's not a true American holiday if there aren't hamburgers and hot dogs."

"Well here we're more refined than that." Bozer said from inside.

"Yeah, yeah…" Jack swigged more beer.

"You okay, Mac?" Riley sat down beside him as the blonde was making it his goal to sit far from the rest of the ground. "You're kind of quiet."

"I'm fine," he put on a smile. "Just enjoying the company."

"Oh yeah, from all the way over here?" She nudged him playfully. He scoffed, then his eyes fell on Jack as he joked with Matty and that acidic pit rose up in his stomach again. "—Mac" He snapped back only to hear Riley's voice rising with worry.

"Sorry, I stayed up late last night, guess I didn't sleep as much as I thought I did." He sighed, bringing the cold beer to his lips. Riley bent her mouth into a skeptic line but said no more as Boze stepped outside with platters of food, and like that the day moved into a leisurely night. The air was warm and the sky clear as the sunset settled over L.A. The Phoenix group enjoyed the holiday evening with laughter, jokes, stories, and beer. Bozer was in the middle of telling a particularly embarrassing story about Mac from high school, one he could barely tell in between laughs.

"So, wait, wait, wait," he tried to hush the crowd as well as himself. "Mac forgot that the cheerleading team practiced in the gym on Thursdays, so he walked in thinking he could make a break for the showers," even Mac, who was struggling to keep his face from growing red, enjoyed the memory. Then Jack stood.

"Hold that thought Bozer, if I don't get a glass of water I think I'm going to start coughing up blood or something." He held his side as it burned from laughter.

"Gross Jack," Riley groaned, downing more beer.

"Dalton, if I have to wait more than sixty seconds before I hear the rest of this story, you're fired." Matty ordered.

"Fine, jeez…" Jack sauntered inside. While he was gone, night began to fall, and the air grew cold, yet Mac stoked the bonfire until it radiated enough to keep them warm.

"That's it, Dalton is officially fired." Matty grumbled, crossing her arms. Mac laughed when he suddenly recalled the package. He stood, hands in his pockets.

"I should go make sure he didn't fall and hurt himself." He slipped inside only to find Jack frozen in the kitchen, the recoil pad in his hands. Mac saw how tense he was, how he stared at his initials carved into it, though his mind was obviously somewhere else.

"Are you even allowed to do that?" Mac lounged in the bed of the Humvee, it being a particularly slow day in the Sandbox. He watched his partner carve into the butt of his rifle with an old knife. "Don't you have to return that soon or something?"

"I've been with Winni for longer than I can remember…" Jack trailed off as he went back to focusing, struggling to properly curve the D for Dalton.

"You can't remember past three months?" Mac scoffed, rolling a paperclip between his fingers.

"No sir, Winni's been mine for every mission I've ever had in this army. They saved her from my Delta days." Jack grinned. "I watch your back and she watches mine."

"It's a gun, Jack." Mac sighed and sprawled out more in the bed, like a lazy cat in the sun.

"That's what you think…when you're stuck out in the desert, it's dark out, enemy fire raining down on you, the only thing keeping you alive is your weapon…I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for this gun. You wouldn't be here either."

"Agree to disagree." Mac lifted the gun he made from his paperclip and showed it to Jack who simply shrugged, unimpressed, and then went back to carving.

"Jack," Mac kept his voice quiet, trying not to startle him. The whistle from fireworks outside rose into the air until it exploded, echoing throughout the home. Mac flinched as he watched Jack reach for his fire arm, his whole-body tense with fear. "Hey," Mac moved towards him, careful to keep his motion slow as Jack's eyes struggled to recognize anything in the dark house. Another rocket went up, and Mac reached forward and grabbed Jack's pistol before it was able to go off. When it did, Jack jumped and tried to smack Mac with his weapon but was instead wrapped up into a swift headlock from behind. "Jack, calm down." Mac whispered as his friend tried to squirm out; it took all of Mac's strength to control the bigger man. "Jack!" He snapped, keeping his voice low to avoid the others hearing. Jack suddenly started gasping and shaking, his knees buckled, and Mac helped him to the ground, leaning him against the cabinets on the island. "It's okay…you're okay…" He put his hand on Jack's shoulder as his friend tried to catch his breath, his eyes screwed shut and the rifle piece was still tight in his grip.

"Mac…" Jack whimpered when more fireworks began to go off outside.

"Yo, slowpokes, hurry up!" They heard Bozer holler as the three of them cheered. Each rocket lit the inside of the house in different colors like a strobe light, each one lighting up more fear on Jack's face.

"It's okay…" Mac's worry grew as Jack failed to slow down his breathing.

"What is this?" It sounded as if he was about to break down as he held up the rifle piece. "How…" He trailed off as another boom brought the sight of the Sandbox before his eyes. He closed them again, trying to squeeze the image out of his brain.

"I'll explain later, but for now let's get you somewhere you can calm down." Mac tried to get him to stand when he pushed of his hands.

"I'm fine," Jack's voice rattled.

"Jack," Mac groaned against his stubbornness. He sighed and plopped a hand down onto his shoulder, feeling the older man's pulse against his fingers. He sighed again and then pulled Jack into a tight hug, the man immediately reciprocated, and Mac then found himself struggling to breath as Jack pulled on his shirt, as if Mac was a stress ball. "It's okay," he held him and could feel the piece of the rifle dig into his back as Jack continued to hold it.

"Yo, Mac, come on—" Bozer had skipped inside when he saw the scene before him. He caught Mac's gaze who, while concerned, conveyed control of the situation. More fireworks broke in the sky, and Bozer saw Jack's PTSD before him, shattering a jolly bad-ass into a small, shivering victim. Then, Bozer saw the piece of gun in Jack's hand illuminated by a green rocket; the color faded, leaving them in the dark, and Bozer read Mac's face. He nodded and skipped back outside, suddenly keeping the other two ladies busy. Mac soon felt Jack ease up as he released him and went back to leaning against the cabinets. He was still shaking, his breathing still uneven, but his mind seemed to have recovered from the visions of the past. Mac made himself comfortable, giving him time to collect himself enough to speak.

"You said you don't know anything about this?" He delicately ran his thumb over the letters.

"Just showed up today. Not long before you showed up."

"Just this?" Jack's eyes looked big and brown in the little light there.

"…Yeah, just that." Mac swallowed the lie, stretching his legs out as he sat across from Jack on the floor. "I think you should stay here tonight Jack."

"What, worried I'm just gonna go home and cry to myself like a little girl?" Jack's attempt at joking didn't go over well; he glanced up only to find Mac scolding him with his eyes. "Sorry, I know, not the time…"

"I'm just saying Jack. Either you stay here tonight or I'm going to your place…I'm going to let you be alone after this episode."

"You say that like this is such a common occurrence."

"I may have seen more than you would've cared to let on." Mac smirked.

"Well, that's just great." Jack knocked his head back on the cabinet door.

"Oh, here," Mac reached behind his belt and pulled out the other man's pistol. "I figured you must've not realized I swiped it from you." Mac quickly pulled it away when Jack reached out for it. "You're good right? I don't have to worry about you coming to kill me tonight?" Jack ripped the gun from his hands and holstered it.

"I don't know, maybe if you keep looking at me like that…"

"Well, come on." Mac pulled himself up by the counter top and slapped Jack's shoulder.

"I actually, may go lie down…" Jack sighed. "Your room open?"

"Yeah man, it's all yours. I'll go tell everyone you couldn't handle your booze or something."

"I don't know if that's any better." Jack scoffed. Mac left him to go steal the attention of everyone outside, hopefully steer the conversation before anyone other than Boze got suspicious. He accepted a beer from Bozer and sat down between them before the fire.

"Jack okay?" Riley asked.

"Yeah he's fine, wasn't feeling well."

"Baby," Matty grumbled, finishing another one off.

"Matty, I know you're my boss and all…and you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, but maybe you should slow down." Riley watched with a impressed smile. Matty scoffed and put her drink down.

"I'm cold." She declared.

"Aren't you supposed to feel warmer when you're drun—" Bozer quickly stopped himself. "Drinking…"

"Want me to put another log on the fire?" Mac offered.

"I'm just going to grab a blanket from inside." She stood and left them for the darkness of the living room. "Jack…" Matty was taken aback, though her tone was more accusatory than anything. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, uh better." Jack was sitting on the couch in the dark, something in his hands.

"You missed the fireworks." Matty walked around the side of the couch to look him over.

"Don't worry, I heard…" Jack's voice almost whimpered, but he tried to keep calm.

"Where does Mac keep extra blankets?" Matty started to go through the living room like a storm.

"I got it," Jack stood up and went to the closet where he pulled one off the top shelf. He handed it to his boss who snatched it with a smile and returned outside. She closed the sliding door behind her, the voices of everyone outside becoming muffled. Jack was staring out at the flickering flames of the bonfire, tempted to rejoin them; he turned to close the closet and do so when an opened package got his eyes. He slowly kneeled and pulled the box out for more light when he saw the pieces inside. With a shaking hand, he lifted the old scope of his sniper, Winni.

Jack recognized every piece in that box, knew where every part went, what it felt like, smelled like, how it worked. He sat down and started to assemble it out of sheer instinct and habit. His mind fell blank as the springs and gears tightened, as it took shape in his hands. Jack sped up as more parts disappeared from the box and attached itself to the rifle. It didn't matter that he was in the dark, that his body was still shaking from before, that he hadn't seen Winni in years. She was here, in his arms. Jack stood with the weight of the completed gun. It's like he never left.

"Jack?" Bozer had walked into the room from outside. Jack spun around, so startled that he almost aimed the rile at him. They stood there, frozen, Bozer surprisingly calm; he knew Jack could never harm him. "You found the box."

"You knew about this?" Jack felt betrayed, and he didn't lower the gun. "Mac said—"

"That package came today. Mac saw your initials, knew it was yours, he didn't know how it got here so he hid it." Bozer explained, guilt rising as he saw how confused and terrified Jack looked in the little light coming inside.

"This is impossible, Bozer, you know that don't you? I left this over there, and I thought it'd would stay there! Everything was supposed to stay over there." Jack's anger sent Bozer stepping back into the closed door.

"We'll figure this out Jack…" Bozer watched Jack slowly move towards the door to the front of the house. "Let me get Mac and—"

"Bozer, I love you, but I can't let you get Mac or Riley or Matty because they won't be able to do a damn thing about this…" Jack felt his throat tightening, burning. Meanwhile, Bozer had started to reach for the sliding door, to maybe get someone's attention when Jack fully aimed the rifle at him; he didn't need the scope at this rang, but the barrel was pointed at Bozer's chest. "There was a note in that box." Jack's voice cracked and Bozer finally felt afraid of him. "And I can't stay here." Jack glanced to the three outside, to Mac. He knew why Mac hadn't told him, why he lied. Jack understood, because he would've done the same thing to protect him. "Now, Bozer, when I leave, I'm going to need your word that you're not going to go tell them." Bozer's mouth twitched as Jack read his mind. "Bozer."

"Jack, I—" Before Bozer could finish Jack was halfway out the door. The former Delta commander slipped away in the night, leaving silence, fear, and dread left in the house.