Chapter 2

Mac drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the night, intentionally or not, waking up each time he started to dream. He woke with a start when Jack came into the room a little after dawn. Recovering quickly, he nodded to Jack and got up, following the older man into the kitchen, where he sat at the table.

"Morning, Jack." He tried to sound cheerful, but he couldn't cover the exhaustion in his voice. He rubbed at his eyes and the back of his neck.

"Well, good morning yourself!" Jack greeted as he started the coffee. He turned to observe his young friend holding his neck and making a scrunchy face. "Couch wasn't kind to your neck?"

Mac just shook his head slightly. "Coffee, please?" was all he could manage.

They spent the day replacing boards on the porch. Mac enjoyed the distraction. It felt good to have a task and the tools to accomplish it, see it through to completion, which seemed to be lacking in his current position. Instead of a firm beginning, middle, and end to a job, his work…his life…they all seemed to be built on shifting sand. Nikki, the Organization, Murdoc—they all seemed to keep popping up. Agendas kept changing or at least the team's knowledge of their agendas did. Maybe, he thought, maybe this week, working on the cabin with Jack, might ground him. Maybe it would anchor his brain to the present and stop the nightmares and doubts that plagued him.

Jack kept a watchful eye on Mac, but from a safe distance, trying not to get in his personal space. He decided maybe an afternoon on the lake fishing might be relaxing for both of them. It was easier to talk out on the quiet lake. He always had the best conversations with his dad there. Even though the lake was wide open all around, being in the boat together had always felt like a private, almost intimate, setting. It's where he told his dad about wanting to join the army. It might be good for Mac, he thought.

When Jack proposed the idea of fishing, they were cleaning up from having sandwiches for lunch. Mac smiled and agreed that it was a fine idea, but inwardly, he worried that being out on the boat with Jack might make him a captive audience for Jack's scrutiny. What would he do if Jack pushed him about the nightmares? It wasn't like he could just dive off the boat and swim away! And to say anything at all risked opening that door. He feared it would all pour out, then, and that couldn't happen.

Jack was in his element, fishing on the lake. He dressed for the occasion in a fishing hat and vest with a bunch of lures stuck in them. Mac had genuinely laughed at the site as he came out of the cabin to join Mac on the porch.

"Jack, really?

"What's wrong with my fishing outfit?" Jack asked, feining insult.

"My grandfather had a hat and vest like that!" Mac chided, grinning and shaking his head.

"Then your grandfather had impeccable taste," Jack added, puffing out his chest and grinning as he turned around to model the outfit. "The vest is mine, but the hat….well, it was Pop's." Jack looked at Mac then, as if to gain his approval and Mac nodded, softening his mocking grin to a kinder smile. "Well, let's go, Kiddo, the fish are waiting and I hope to have seafood for dinner!" Jack picked up his fishing rod and headed toward the dock.

Mac trailed behind, trying not to seem reluctant. Hopefully the fish would be biting and not leave too much time for Jack's attention to be on him.

The first hour or so, they actually caught some fish and Mac was relieved to just have fun fishing with his best friend. Their banter was easy and light and everything seemed to Mac to be their normal. Except for feeling tired, Mac felt good. This was what he hoped the week would be like.

Jack was enjoying the afternoon. The fishing was good and the company, well, Jack always enjoyed being around Mac. He thought it must be what it was like to hang out with your little brother or even your son, and he hoped Mac felt the same. His mind flashed back to the time he spent with his own dad on the lake and now, he felt like the roles were reversed. He wondered how his dad would feel, seeing him spending this time with Mac like Jack used to with him. He suddenly missed his dad an awful lot and hadn't realized he was practically staring at Mac.

"Jack? Is something wrong?" Mac tipped his head slightly, observing Jack's sudden quiet and far away look, aimed in his direction. "Are you ok? Jack!" He raised his voice a little to get his friend's attention.

"Sorry, man…sorry. I guess I drifted off a minute. I was thinking about my old man." Mac nodded and Jack cleared his throat and continued. "I think he'd have been happy. Hell, I'll bet he is happy just seeing us out here today, enjoying this lake. I never realized how important that time was." Then Jack looked at Mac and his voice took on an even more sincere tone, "Thanks for com'in up here with me, Bud. I had no idea how much I'd even missed it." Jack reached up to wipe a tear away, then, and suddenly a sob escaped and he had to breathe deeply to gain control of his emotions.

Mac silently admonished himself again for worrying that this week was all about him. He moved carefully in the boat until he was in the seat closest to Jack and reached a hand out to gently squeeze the back of his neck. Jack had done that for him so many times when he needed grounding and support, and it had always helped. He hoped returning that favor now was the right thing to do. He wasn't sure at first because the touch seemed to make Jack cry again, lowering his head into his hands and sobbing a few times.

"It's ok, Jack," Mac said gently. "It's ok to remember. It's ok to miss him. And…I'm glad I'm here, too." They sat like that for a few minutes and Mac kept his hand on Jack's neck while he regained his composure. He patted Jack's shoulder a few times, then, and asked, "You ok, Big Guy?" Jack nodded and turned his head to smile at Mac.

"Yeah, Man, I'm ok. Thanks. I don't know why that got to me so much. Sometimes, stuff about my dad comes up out of the blue and kind of takes my legs out from under me."

"Yeah, me too." BAM! It was out of his mouth before he realized it. Damn! He'd just opened that door another crack!

"Really? Like when?" He realized the kid's mis-step, too. Jack tried not to sound like he'd sprung some sort of trap, looking at Mac's suddenly almost panicked features.

"I don't know. Can't exactly remember, but it happens sometimes. Like at birthday parties or when I see kids with their dads, that kind of stuff." It was truthful, yet evasive and that was what Mac was going for. He hoped that would be the end of it.

"Dude, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to and I'm not prying, but it kinda feels good to let some of that stuff out once in a while. Maybe you should try it sometime. You know, like with a friend you trust," Jack left that hanging in the air.

Ouch. That hit Mac in the gut. Did Jack think he didn't trust him? Or was it a ploy to get him to open up? Mac eyed his friend suspiciously.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mac's face bore an incredulous look, almost angry.

"Sorry, Bud. It's ok, really. I know you trust me and I know it's just hard for you to say what you're feeling. It hurts a little sometimes, but I understand. I'm just saying that you can talk to me…about anything…if you want to. That's all. Now, how 'bout we get us another big fish for dinner and call it an afternoon, ok?" Jack slapped Mac's thigh lightly and turned his attention toward the lake once more, casting his line out.

Mac cast his line, too, still a little stunned. He looked over at Jack, then stared out at the water, trying to understand how holding his own feelings back had hurt his friend. He admonished himself silently for not realizing that Jack interpreted it as a lack of trust. Jack was the only one he actually did trust with his feelings; the only one he ever let through his defenses. He needed his friend to know that. It was just that as much as he trusted Jack, sharing his feelings made him feel vulnerable and he didn't like it. He didn't want to fall apart and he didn't know if he could talk about any of it without that happening…because it couldn't.

Suddenly, Jack heard a whisper that shattered the stillness of the lake more effectively than any scream ever could have. "He tortured you." Jack turned his attention to his young partner. He turned on his seat to face Mac, silently imploring him to go on.

"Who did, Bud?" He asked quietly.

"In my nightmare. Murdoc did. He was torturing you and Riley and Bozer." Mac took a deep, shaky breath. He couldn't look at Jack, not yet. "You were all hand-cuffed, being hoisted to the ceiling by your hands on these pulleys and I was screaming for him to stop." Mac's breath caught for a minute and Jack put a hand on his shoulder and nodded at him to go on.

"He wanted me to do a hit for him…be an assassin…for real this time… and I refused. He used you to get to me. The way you all looked at me…I finally gave in and screamed at him that I would do it. I told him I'd kill for him, Jack. That's when you woke me up." Mac felt the sting in his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the tears building there. He couldn't make himself say more…not now.

"It's ok, Mac. Just take a deep breath, Man." He patted Mac's shoulder reassuringly as the younger man fought for control. Jack realized he didn't want to have Mac lose it out here on the lake. 'Baby steps', he thought. "You did good, Brother. I'll just bet that you don't have that dream again, now that it's out in the open. It's all good, except I'm sorry if I guilted you into telling me. I didn't mean to do that. I am glad you put it out there, though."

Mac nodded, composed himself enough to look at Jack, and then explained, "Jack, I'm sorry. You're right, it is difficult for me to talk about this stuff, but it's not because I don't trust you. I never wanted you to think that, especially when the exact opposite is the truth." Mac continued to search Jack's face, needing to know his friend understood. Jack's accepting smile and nod were all he needed to be sure they were ok.

They enjoyed cooking and eating the fish they caught, grilling it up at the fire pit with vegetables and rice. Mac felt more relaxed than he'd been in a while. He had an appetite. They sipped on their beer and sat back in their chairs, laughing and talking. It felt like he and Jack had hit their stride again, their usual banter in place and no real need for any walls or guarding. He got up his nerve to broach the subject. "Jack? Can I ask you something?"

Jack looked at his partner, a little startled, but tried not to let that show on his face. "Of course, Bud. Anything."

"I know when we got back home…after Afghanistan…you had dreams. Nightmares, like I do," Mac began quietly, stealing a quick glance at his friend to guage his reaction. Jack nodded but didn't interrupt, so Mac continued, "What made them stop? I mean, what did you do, you know?" Mac swallowed hard, feeling like he might be starting a conversation he didn't want to finish. He just needed to know; needed hope he could get over this.

"There's no easy answer to that, Kiddo. Some nights I couldn't close my eyes. When I did, I'd wake up screaming…or worse. My family got me to see someone. I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it. I didn't know what would hold me together if I did." Jack paused to look at Mac and fixed him with a knowing look.

Mac felt like his friend could see into his soul at that moment. He nodded and looked away, shifting uncomfortably. "What'd you do?" He asked quietly as he looked out at the lake.

"I took a leap of faith and decided that the risk of losing it couldn't be worse than trying to hold it together. I started talking. First about just my experiences, but eventually, about how I felt. I got help to get through all that pain and I found my way back. The nightmares mostly stopped. I get them when I'm really stressed; not too much more than most people, I guess." He sat up and smiled, and suddenly laughed, "And here I am, the picture of mental health and happiness you know and love today!"

Mac smiled despite himself and shook his head with an amused huff. "Why didn't you tell me about any of this?"

"Well, that might have been a mistake, but I wanted to be strong in front of you…in case you needed me. I needed you to know I could handle it. You were one of the reasons I needed to get myself together," Jack nodded as he looked at Mac, his eyes suspiciously glassy.

Mac just stared at his friend, incredulous at the lengths Jack would go to for him. "Jack…I…I didn't realize. I wish I'd known. You mean you went to therapy…for me?"

"Yeah, I did, Kiddo, but I also I went for me; I just didn't know it at first." Jack got up and picked up his dishes and headed back toward the cabin.

Mac sat for a few minutes, watching Jack and feeling completely amazed that he somehow managed to have Jack Dalton in his life. He wiped his eyes because they suddenly felt a little damp, and got up to follow his best friend.

Tonight, Jack decided to go to bed, but stay up until Mac fell asleep, then quietly go sleep in the main room in the chair, just in case the kid needed him again. About an hour after they went to bed, Jack opened his door and took a few moments to observe Mac's sleeping form on the couch. He seemed to be asleep. The smooth, even breaths, slight snore every few minutes, relaxed features, all let Jack know it was safe to resettle himself in the chair. He sat watching the kid's face, lit only by the dim moonlight coming from the window. Jack thought to himself how very young and innocent MacGyver looked in sleep. Oh, he knew Mac was capable and not so innocent, but just then, he looked so childlike, it got Jack's protective instincts going. He looked like….well, a kid, no more than seventeen right then.

Mac was sleeping on his side, knees drawn up under a blanket. He'd gone to bed in sweat pants and a stretched and worn MIT tee shirt. Suddenly a soft whimper escaped his lips and Jack sat up straighter. This time, there was no thrashing or yelling, just soft agonizing whimpers that escaped his friend, and when he looked closely, a tear trickled down his face. Jack moved out of the chair and to his knees in front of his friend. At the risk of startling him, he carefully pushed back the kid's bangs and leaned down, sliding his arm under his neck, lifting the kid's upper body into his arms. Cradling Mac's head in the crook of his elbow, he drew the young man's face gently to his own chest.

The kid didn't wake, just cried softly and nuzzled into Jack's chest, unconsciously seeking comfort and breaking the older man's heart with every sob. Jack softly shushed him, gently carding his hand through the blond hair in front of him, holding him until he quieted. Mac finally stirred, turning a little, mumbling incoherently in his half-awake state. "What was that, Bud?" Jack whispered.

"Why did she have to die? Why?" He paused long enough to sniffle and swipe at his eyes. "Please don't leave, Dad." Mac begged and he snuggled back into Jack's chest, shivering slightly and sniffing a little.

Jack froze and his breath caught in his chest, his own tears threatening when he heard 'Dad.' He could only hope Mac felt that way about him and couldn't help thinking, 'If only…' but what he said was "I know, Buddy. I'm so sorry. It's gonna be ok. I gotcha. I'm not goin anywhere." He continued the whispered reassurances, holding Mac's head against him and absently stroking his hair. He waited a few minutes then lifted the younger man's head and shoulders enough to slide onto the couch and pull a pillow onto his lap, letting the sleeping MacGyver rest his head on it and resting his arm protectively over the his partner's shoulder.