Hey guys, long time no see! XD So a little while ago, I got a prompt from Karana, asking me to expound a little on what MacGyver said when they were in Amsterdam, about his best and worst days as a spy. Karana, you've been so patient in waiting for this, I hope it lives up to expectations! Full prompt is at the bottom :D

Also, this is very loosely based off the song "American Soldier" by Toby Keith. Very very loosely ;)

Usual disclaimers apply...These characters do not belong to me *lowkey cries*

"Hey Mac," Bozer said as he walked over and sat next to his friend, who was sitting by their firepit in the back. MacGyver looked over at his roommate.

"What's up?" he asked. Mac was still concerned about his friend; he knew that they had been cleared of all charges from Amsterdam, but he got the feeling that Bozer was still frazzled from the experience. Heck, he was still frazzled. He wanted to make sure that his friend knew that he would always have someone to talk to.

"Just, what you said back in Jenaveev's place," Bozer said, trailing off for a minute.

"I…I said a lot of things, Boze," Mac replied, trying to remember what all he had said. "Which part are you talking about?"

"The part where you said something about your worst days and almost dying alone, whereas your best days, you save a ton of people, but no one knew you were there," the newest Phoenix employee reminded Mac. Mac nodded slowly in remembrance. Of course he remembered saying that. "What happened, Mac?" Bozer asked. He sounded hesitant, as if he was worried Mac was going to get upset at him for asking. MacGyver took a deep breath and leaned back against the wooden steps of the fire pit, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he thought.

0-0-0

On my worst days, I've nearly died alone.

"Split up?" Jack asked skeptically, glancing at his partner warily.

"It's the fastest way to find them both," Mac pointed out. The men they had been chasing had separated, meaning Jack and MacGyver also needed to split up in order to catch both of them. Jack looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew his younger partner was right.

"Fine, just...don't die!" Jack said, pointing a menacing finger at the young man.

"That's the plan," Mac replied before the two of them took off in their different directions. They were in an old, abandoned apartment building on the outskirts of town. It had been closed down due to safety hazards, which didn't make Jack any more excited about splitting up. MacGyver ran down the stairs while Jack ran up, and soon they lost sight of each other. Thanks to comms though, they didn't lose touch completely.

"Any sign of yours?" Jack asked in a whisper a few minutes after they split up.

"No, nothing," Mac replied. "You?"

"Nada," came Jack's reply.

"I'm going to check out a room I see up ahead," Mac informed his partner.

"Careful," Jack cautioned. "I'm checking out a room too; stay in radio contact," he reminded Mac.

"Copy that," Mac confirmed. The blond crept towards the door, knowing that the man he was chasing was more than likely behind it. As he pushed the door open, he prepared himself for a fight, but all he heard was a chuckle. Mac whirled around to face the man he had been chasing, but stopped short when his target held up a remote with a big red button on the top.

Mac's eyes widened as the man grinned wickedly at him before pressing the button. Mac heard an ominous beeping that he knew all too well; the man had set off a timer for a bomb. He watched the man run away, but he knew his first priority was to find and disarm the explosive device. He followed the sound of the beeping, but when he reached where the noise was the loudest, he couldn't see it. He looked around in confusion, then he slowly tilted his head and looked up. The bomb had been attached by velcro to one of the beams on the ceiling, and the timer on the device read seventeen seconds and counting.

MacGyver looked around frantically for something he could climb on to disarm the bomb, but the only thing that looked like it would hold his weight was a chair, or at least what used to be a chair. It was in half a dozen pieces on the floor, and Mac realized that the man must have set the bomb earlier, then smashed the chair so no one would be able to reach it. The men had known Mac and Jack were coming, so it made logical sense to Mac that they would lead them somewhere and then try and trap them in the building with a bomb.

Mac knew he didn't have time to fix a way to get up to the bomb and disarm it in time, so he turned and began running down the hallway towards the stairs.

"Jack, get out of the building!" Mac shouted as he neared the stairs.

"What?" Jack's voice came in his ear.

"Get out of the building!" Mac repeated. He heard his partner curse quietly, but Mac was grateful to hear Jack's breathing increase as he began running to get out. The blond began bolting up the stairs, but he had only gotten about halfway up the staircase before he felt it: the quiet before the storm. There was a soft sucking noise before the boom, and Mac barely had time to shout Jack's name before the bomb went off.

0-0-0

MacGyver coughed, consciousness rushing back to him all at once. His eyes snapped open and he looked around his surroundings; everything around him had been destroyed. The stairs were basically in shambles, and he had a large piece of wall sitting on his calf and ankle. His ears were buzzing, and he could hardly distinguish one sound from another. As he looked around, he began to feel slightly nauseous and he realized he must have a concussion. He felt something slowly trickling down his forehead and he reached up, wiping away what he found to be blood coming from a cut on his forehead.

The kid grunted as he tried to move, only to find that he was stuck in the same spot, no matter how much he twisted and turned. He tried shifting his leg from under the rubble, but quickly stopped that when it felt like the strain would be too much. He breathed heavily from his exertion and leaned back, placing his back against the wall and pushing. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get any of the rubble loose. He stopped his struggling for a minute, panting as he tried to regain his breath.

The air around him was thick with smoke and debris, and Mac could see an orange glow coming from down the hallway he had been running down. The bright light was steadily growing bigger and bigger, and Mac knew he didn't have much time before the fire reached him. He renewed his efforts to get away, but this time he didn't try to do things with strictly brute force.

Ask anyone; the best way to move something heavy and stubborn is to get leverage on it. If I can find something that I can wedge under this piece of wall, I should be able to get enough force on it so that I can give my leg enough wiggle room to get out. Once I'm free, then I can focus on getting out of this place before it completely collapses.

Mac coughed as he looked around, trying to find anything that he could use as leverage on the piece of debris. He finally spotted a metal pipe jutting out of the wall above him, and he reached up to grab it. His fingers scrabbled over the metal until he finally got a decent hold on it. The pipe was warm, but not an uncomfortable temperature yet, so Mac knew that it was now or never. He pulled, straining his back a little because of the awkward angle, but he didn't stop pulling until he felt the pipe wiggle, and then finally come out.

He closed his eyes as the debris rained down on his head, trying to prevent anything from getting in his eyes; that was the last thing he needed. Once the plaster above him stopped falling, he picked up the metal pipe from where it had dropped when he pulled it out, and he wedged it under the piece of concrete on his leg.

He began pushing on the pipe, and after several moments, he finally felt the large piece of rubble begin to shift. A few more moments passed, and with a yell he finally managed to get the chunk of wall off his leg.

He grunted in pain as the full force of the injury hit him, but he forced his way to his feet anyway. He tried putting weight on his injured leg, but hissed quietly and quickly lifted his foot up when he almost fell over. He couldn't tell if his ankle was broken or merely sprained, but what he did know what that it was going to take a lot longer getting out of there on only one foot.

He began hopping his way up the stairs, but he could tell by the increasing heat and by glancing over his shoulder that the fire was quickly making its way towards him, much faster than he was hopping. He coughed as the smoke infiltrated his lungs, and had to stop for a minute when his coughing got so intense that he doubled over, trying to catch his breath.

His coughing fit finally subsided, and he began hopping his way up the broken stairs again. He finally made his way over the top step, but when he looked behind him, he saw the fire had reached the bottom of the staircase. He looked ahead of him next, grateful to see that his path was mostly clear, though there were several large pieces of debris in the middle of his path. He wiped some sweat and blood off his forehead, then caught sight of a piece of wood in the shape of a "t." He grabbed the wood and stuck the crossed part of it under his arm, forming a very rough crutch.

He immediately began hopping down the hallway, grunting in pain as he accidentally hit his ankle on a piece of rubble. He kept his eyes out for his partner, but he didn't see any sign of Jack.

After a few minutes of painful maneuvering, he finally saw what looked like a door ahead of him, and his heart lifted a little. Mac continued to make his way towards the opening, but before he got very far, there was a loud rumble. Mac looked up in time to see a large piece of wall collapsing towards him, and he had to throw himself backwards to avoid being crushed.

It took a few seconds for the dust to clear, and Mac had to resist the urge to rub his eyes to get the dust out; he knew that would only damage his eyes. He coughed again as the dust as well as the smoke now was getting into his lungs. The heat was becoming almost too much to bear, and Mac's stomach dropped as he saw the fire much closer than he had realized. He looked towards the piece of rubble, seeing that it covered basically the whole hallway, except for a small crawl space in the bottom left corner, as well as the top right corner.

He pushed himself to his feet, then hopped towards the piece of rubble. On the one hand, I could crawl under the wall, but I run the risk of another shift in the building, crushing me under the rubble. Or, I could try to climb over, but I'm not sure my ankle would be able to take the climb.

Mac considered his options, then finally decided to try for going over. He simply didn't use his injured leg as much as he possibly could while he climbed, and after several minutes of kicking and struggling, he finally reached the crawl space. He army crawled his way through the tiny space, having to keep his head as close to the rubble as he could to prevent it from being hit by the ceiling above him.

He made his way through the hole and looked down to see a drop of about seven feet to the floor. He readied himself, then dropped to the floor, throwing himself into a roll as he began to hit the floor. He didn't completely make the roll though, and ended up rolling his back over a rock lying in the middle of the ground. He gasped as he laid on the floor, trying to catch his breath. He tried to push away the black spots dancing in front of his vision, and tried to get up again, but as he tried to push himself to his feet, he let out a groan. His eyes began drifting closed, and try as hard as he might, he couldn't make himself move.

Right before his eyes closed completely, he thought he heard Jack's familiar shouting, and he forced his eyes open more.

"Here," he tried yelling, though it came out more like a croak. His whole leg was throbbing, as was his back was pulsating to the beat of his heart. His breathing was getting more labored, but he pushed himself up one more time, against all physical demands that he stop moving. He barely moved four feet before falling to his knees once more.

"Mac!" he thought he heard. He looked up through blurry vision, and he saw a familiar figure running towards him. "Hey, I need help!" the figure yelled as he grabbed Mac's arm and slung it around his shoulder.

"J'ck," the blond muttered.

"Hey, I'm here," Jack said as he began weaving his way through the rubble towards the door. "I gotcha."

The two of them made their way to the doorway, where firemen were just rushing in. They escorted the two agents outside and had them sit down; a few moments later, a gurney was wheeled over and Mac was lifted onto it. Someone placed an oxygen mask over Mac's face, but he pushed it aside for a minute to talk to his partner.

"Thanks," he said with a cough.

"For what, saving your life?" Jack asked. "Dude, you and I are stuck together; there's no way you're going to die alone. I wouldn't let that happen. I'm gonna be right there with you," he promised. Mac chuckled, but when the chuckle turned into a cough, Jack pushed the mask back over his friend's face. "Keep that on, bud," he ordered. "I didn't pull you out of a burning building for you to go and die of choking on your own laughter," he added, pulling another chuckle from his young partner, though the blond did do as he was told and kept the mask on.

Even though Jack was joking about dying with me, I have to be honest. That's one of my biggest fears. I'm afraid of dying alone, and while I don't have any plans to die any time soon, I am grateful to have Jack by my side, as my friend; as my brother.

0-0-0

On my best days, I've saved hundreds of lives and no one even knew I was there.

"Mac, have you found it yet?!" Jack yelled through comms. MacGyver was down in the sewers, searching for a chemical bomb full of sarin gas that Kamir Tulda had placed somewhere down there.

"I'm looking, I'm looking!" Mac said, trying not to snap at his partner, who was above ground, chasing down Tulda. Riley was on comms as well, helping guide both Mac and Jack to their targets.

"Come on, Mac, how hard can it be to spot a WMD in the sewers?" Jack asked incredulously. Mac rolled his eyes and bit back his retort about how hard it must be to run after a man in his sixties who had worked as a rent-a-cop security guard at a chemical plant for most of his adult life before deciding the payoff from stealing and setting of a sarin-gas bomb would be more profitable.

"Riley, do we have any clue to where the bomb is?" Mac asked, glancing around him at the disgusting walls.

"I'm trying to track the electric signal from the remote Tulda used, but it's getting all scrambled because of the walls," she replied. Mac could hear the tapping of keys on her keyboard.

"Any chance you could speed up the search, Ri?" Jack asked.

"You know what Jack, how about you come try to separate a single signal from among hundreds of thousands because you're in Chinatown, then try to track that signal down where there is little-to-no connection and find a solitary device? I'm trying to pin the signal down, but it's getting distorted because of the walls," Riley said.

"Jack, just focus on getting Tulda," Thornton instructed, knowing things could get a little dicey if Jack and Riley began arguing.

A few more minutes passed before Riley finally exclaimed, "Found it! Mac, take your next right, then another right, and you should find it."

MacGyver did as he was instructed, and when he took the second right, he found that the hacker was correct. The chemical disperser was sitting right at the opening of a ventilation tunnel that went all the way up to the streets. "Got it," he said, stepping towards the device carefully.

"Be careful," Thornton cautioned.

"I got it," Mac said reassuringly.

"I know you're gonna do great, kid," Jack's voice came over the comms. "I got complete faith in you; plus, according to Riley, you've got less than three minutes left on that clock," Jack reminded his partner.

"Jack!" Riley said in annoyance.

"Thanks for that, man," Mac drawled.

"Just tryin' to keep it real," Jack said. "But don't worry. I know you got it!"

"Got any other pep talks in your repertoire?" the blond asked sarcastically as he moved closer to the bomb.

"Jack, don't answer that," Thornton ordered. "Mac, just focus on disarming that bomb. You've got this."

"Know what else we've got?" Jack asked suddenly. "I found Tulda; he's leaving the street and approaching a vehicle."

"Go get him," Thornton instructed. Mac assumed Jack took off after that, because all he heard was the passing of cars and muffled voices, and his friend's breathing as he jogged to their perpetrator.

Mac knelt down and began carefully removing the front panel so that he could have access to the wires behind it. He had just sent the panel down and had begun separating the wires when he heard a noise behind him. He stood and whirled around in one smooth motion, barely in time to block the attack that was aimed at his face.

He grunted as the first attack was immediately followed by a quick jab to his ribs that he was unable to block. Mac threw his own elbow at the man's face, a small satisfied feeling washing over him as he watched the man grab at his nose and reel back slightly. That small reprieve gave Mac a chance to glance down at the timer on the bomb: 2:12, and counting. MacGyver turned his attention back to his attacker just in time to see the man lunge at him.

Mac was thrown back against the wall of the sewer, hitting his head on the cement. He tried getting in a breath of air, but his attacker placed his arm against the kid's larynx, making normal breathing rather difficult.

"Mac?" he heard Thornton ask through the comms. "What's going on? Have you disarmed the bomb?"

"Kinda...busy," Mac grunted, trying to hit the man's arm away from his throat, but having no success. After a few more moments of struggling, Mac brought his leg up and hit the man in-between the legs, making his attacker shout in pain and release Mac. The blond steadied himself on his feet before quickly clapping both palms over his attacker's ears. The man dropped like a stone, clutching at his ears in agony.

Mac figured the man was down for the count, so he began stepping over his attacker, intending to disarm the bomb. He had just begun to step over though, when the man's hand snapped out and grabbed Mac's ankle, causing the agent to trip and fall on his face. Mac quickly turned on his back, eyes widening slightly as he saw the attacker lunge towards him.

MacGyver scooted back on the floor, trying to put a little bit of distance between him and the man who was trying to stop him from disarming the bomb. The man grabbed for Mac and grabbed his shoe, trying to drag him backwards, but Mac was able to wiggle his foot out of the man's grip, and while the man jerked back from the sudden decrease in resistance, Mac rammed his other foot into his attacker's face.

The blow to the man's face once again dropped him like a stone, but this time when Mac checked, the man was truly unconscious. Panting a little from his fight, Mac hurried back over to the bomb, picking up his knife from where he'd dropped it when his attacker first came at him.

He glanced at the timer, wincing when he saw he only had thirty-seven seconds left. He decided to ignore the time factor for a moment, instead focusing on separating the wires and finding the correct ones to cut.

"Mac?" Thornton's voice came over the comms again, and Mac could hear the stress being barely contained.

"Just..gimme...a minute," Mac muttered, finally locating the last wire he needed to cut.

I've worked with bombs for a long time now, and I've seen almost every single make and model that isn't homemade. This model is actually pretty simple to disarm, but the one problem with it is that the wires need to be cut at the exact same time, and all the wires that need to be cut are in different locations in the bomb.

Mac looked at the clock; twenty-five seconds. He had twenty-five seconds to isolate the three wires that needed to be cut and get them close enough together that he could cut them at the same time. He took a second to wipe some sweat out of his eyes before he gently pulled the three wires, pulling them as close to each other as he could. He then flicked out the largest blade on his Swiss Army knife and placed it gently under the wires.

The world seemed to slow down; he heard the beeping of the timer, could see the numbers slowly counting down, and over the comms he could hear Thornton saying something, but he tuned everything out as he prepared to cut the wires. He took in one deep breath, then jerked the knife, cutting all three wires in one clean stroke. The timer stopped counting, and MacGyver let out the breath he had been holding.

"Mac?" Thornton asked, bringing him back to reality. "MacGyver, report."

"Yeah, I'm here," he finally said. "The bomb's been disarmed, with seven seconds left on the timer," he explained. He heard a sigh of relief come from his boss on the other end.

"And are you okay? What happened down there?"

"One of Tulda's employers, I'm assuming," Mac said as he nudged the unconscious man with his foot. "He's got a gas mask attached to his belt, so I'm assuming he was coming to make sure someone like me didn't try to disarm the bomb," Mac mused.

"But you're okay?" Thornton asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," Mac confirmed. "But I'm definitely going to need a shower," he added as he ran his hand through his hair. He immediately regretted that decision as he felt the gunk come out of his hair and onto his hand. "Think the chopper has room for one more person?" Mac asked as he rolled his attacker over, partially so he could secure the man's hands behind his back, and partially so that he could wipe his own hand off on the man's shirt.

"I think we can make room," Thornton replied drily. "I'm alerting the local chemical waste agency, and they should be there soon to take the sarin," she added.

Mac sat back on his haunches after securing the man's hands and he observed the scene around him. As his eyes fell on the chemical bomb, he felt a shudder run through him.

So many people could have died, and no one had any idea. It scares me how often people come close to dying, with no idea whatsoever.

0-0-0

"Mac," Bozer said. "I'm sorry, man. I had no idea."

"No need to be sorry, Boze," MacGyver assured his friend. "It's part of the job."

"No," Bozer said quietly, looking at his friend.

"Huh?" MacGyver was confused; what did Bozer mean it wasn't part of the job?

"I mean, yeah, maybe it's part of the job, but it's also just you, man," Bozer said. "It's you and your big ol' heart. You don't care about the fame or the gratitude that the movies portray when people save the day. You don't do it for the money that comes with the job," he continued. "Nah man. You do it because you care about the people in this world."

MacGyver stared at his friend with an interesting expression.

"You don't have to say anything," Bozer added. "And I'm sorry if asking brought up painful memories."

"No, you're fine," Mac promised.

"Well, I'm always here if you need to talk," Bozer reminded his friend. "And now I hope you're gonna be telling me the truth about what happens to you in the field, cuz I know what you do now; no more getting away with telling me your injuries were because of a skiing accident!"

MacGyver laughed and clapped a hand on his roommate's shoulder. "No more skiing accident excuses," he agreed.

"Good. Now how's about I make us some waffles?" Bozer asked as he stood up, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"It's…" MacGyver checked his watch. "8 o'clock at night," he pointed out.

"You ain't never heard'a breakfast for dinner?" Bozer asked skeptically. "Or have you been lyin' to me about likin' my waffles all these years?"

"No, no," Mac assured Bozer. "I love your waffles. I would love your waffles for dinner," he decided.

"Mmhmm," Bozer said, giving his friend a skeptical look. "A'right. Waffles are comin' up," he said after a minute of staring at MacGyver. "You want anything special in yours?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Surprise me," MacGyver called back as he leaned against the step on the firepit.

"You got it," Bozer replied before disappearing into the kitchen.

The thing is, those examples I gave were just two out of the many times something like that has happened. It's just part of the job. But Bozer is right; if I wasn't out there doing what I do, I don't know what I would be. This job is who I am. I will always do what needs to be done to keep everyone safe. I know the sacrifice this job requires, but if it means that people stay safe, I'll gladly take that burden.

Prompt: In episode 1x17, when Mac and Bozer are in the kitchen preparing the false noses, and Bozer asks about the craziness of the missions, Mac answers him something like "On my worst days, I've nearly died alone. On my best days, I've saved hundred of lives, and no one even knew I was there"

For me, it's one of the strongest emotional moments we've seen so far. I mean, it's like Mac is admitting that sometimes the job is kind of too hard, like he has to tell someone how he feels about the missions, about putting his life in danger every day, about always thinking about other's safety instead of his own. When I saw this scene I felt like he was, for a moment, letting his barriers down.

And then, he carries on saying that "It's just the job." There it is. Mac's walls rose again. You know what I mean right?

So, yeah, this scene was precious to me, and I think it has potential to write about it

So, Karana? Did it live up to expectations? Was it okay?