I couldn't help myself today and just had to write another chapter of this fic. This one's the first story I've ever made with a prompt, so thanks to Mutilated Pancake for the idea. I hope this is what you had in mind and that you like it!

Summary: Mac starts to feel ill after a training session at Phoenix and Jack, as always, is there to take care of him. Although taking care of a sick Mac can prove to be a very difficult task, even for someone as trained in all things MacGyver as Jack was.

CHAPTER 3: What an Attitude

Jack and Mac circled around each other as they tried to assess the other's next move, Jack having to sidestep when Mac lunged forward, getting into the offense.

They had been training for about an hour, sparring and coming up with new defensive moves invented by them because that's what they liked to do best: create their own moves so when they were out in the field and got caught in a situation where they had to fight their way in or out of a place, they could surprise their opponents by bringing into the table moves that were out of the ordinary, not exactly military style but not your regular free combat style either. They liked to call them their 'MacDalton moves' (Riley laughed every time she heard the stupid name).

They were both sweaty and out of breath by now, and knew that it would be time to wrap up their training session soon. Always loving to be the winner of their training matches, Jack made a series of controlled attacks that ended up with a fist driven into Mac's stomach. Even though he had been pulling his punches, since there was no sense in actually hurting each other during training, Mac doubled over and let out a cough and a laugh at the same time because Jack was doing his winning dance around him. He would have kept laughing though, if a coughing fit hadn't made him double over even more and then fall to the floor a bit dazed by the momentarily lack of oxygen. By the time he finished, his lungs burned with the effort and his throat felt dry and irritated. Jack stopped immediately and went over to him in confusion.

"You okay there, bud?" he asked and then joked "come on, I didn't hit you that hard…" and then he frowned "did I?" Mac looked up with a casual grin on his face after he was able to draw in a proper breath.

"No, you didn't" he assured his friend and then took the offered hand to get up from the floor.

"Then why did it sound like there was an explosion every time you coughed?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow and looking for the sings that he would have probably noticed during the day if he had payed enough attention. He knew his partner well, and if his gut was correct (it hadn't been wrong so far in his life… well, not much) the younger man might be coming down with a bug or something.

"It's nothing. My throat's been itching a bit all day but I'm fine" Mac tried to play it cool, afraid his partner would switch to mother-hen-mode the moment he suspected something was wrong with him. He had to admit that he hadn't been feeling so well since he woke up that morning. He had been really cold throughout the night and had woken up with a slight throat ache whenever he swallowed. He had opted for drinking a cup of hot tea with honey and the soreness had gone down considerably, enough for him to forget about it almost after breakfast. Later in the day though, while he had been working with Bozer on the lab, a headache had made itself known, making his eyes hurt every time he moved them too much or too fast. Again, he had let it slide because it hadn't bothered him for work and it had completely disappeared right before joining Jack at the training gym.

"Why don't we hit the showers and call it a day, huh?" Jack asked, already getting rid of the protective gear around his fists.

"But we haven't even made it to an hour yet" Mac complained "really, Jack, I'm fine" and he truly felt fine, not at his top, but fine enough.

"And it's been a good almost hour after actual working hours so… time to head out" he began to walk towards the showers, not making sure his partner was behind him because he didn't want to overwhelm the younger man with his concern over him (not yet anyway).

He took his sweet time letting the warm water wash away the tenseness of his muscles and then changing back to his work clothes, stashing away in his bag the shorts and t-shirt he had been wearing while sparring with Mac, speaking of whom, was still working his way around the gym, letting out some steam with a punching bag and looking more flustered than he had when he had been fighting with Jack.

"And here I thought you would, for once, listen to the voice of reason in this team" he stated, coming closer to his partner and crossing his arms in front of him. He didn't like what he saw; in the maybe (totally over it) 15 minutes it had taken him to shower and change, Mac had worked himself hard, now sporting a slightly deep frown on his forehead, and thicker layer of sweat over his body and breathing heavily with exertion.

"I do listen to you" Mac protested "you wanted me to work on my left hook, so I am" he finished, going back to his work out.

"Mac, you're not feeling well. There's no sense in exhausting yourself out of stubbornness. You admit you're not feeling great and let's just go"

"But I feel fine Jack" Mac answered back, now with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Jack had already put on his papa-bear suit.

"Uh-huh… You forget I know you kiddo" Jack said, narrowing his eyes "on a level from one to ten, how's the headache"

"I don't have a-" Mac started, only to be interrupted by his partner.

"What level?" the man insisted and Mac let out a frustrated sigh, resigned to not being able to avoid the other man's fussing.

"Four" he conceded.

"Which means eight"

"Right"

"Right" Jack repeated, an unspoken agreement settling over the two agents. Mac sighed again and threw away the protective gear before heading to the showers. Jack mentally patted himself because this one had been a pretty easy win, considering other times when he and Mac had gone into full blown out arguments about him not feeling his best.

He wasn't sure why, but the young blond had something against acknowledging having come down with the flu or catching a cold. While it was hell to try and get him to take care of himself whenever he was injured in the field, it was downright torture getting him to take it easy for a couple of days if he got sick with something simple like a cold. Simple, but not at all comfortable or pleasant. He had made it a life mission to find out why that was, but so far he hadn't gotten the answer.

Eventually Mac came out of the showers with dry clothes and his bag hanging from the shoulder. Now he looked pale, but at least the sweat was gone.

"Better?" Jack asked with a grin, falling back into step with his partner as he had passed right over him towards the door.

"Nothing to feel better from" Mac retorted back and his crankiness was what let Jack know he was actually feeling worse.

"Alright then" Jack exclaimed while picking up his phone from his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Mac asked, not trusting his partner not to call an ambulance if he thought Mac wasn't feeling great. He had done it before after all.

"Calling Bozer. You know his chicken soup is a miracle come true, but the thing takes more than two hours to be made, so he better starts on it now" Jack explained calmly before talking to Bozer on the phone, who was already at home, having left the building at a more decent hour. Mac opted for just rolling his eyes at the man, regretting it instantly when the movement sent spikes of pain to his brain but failing to acknowledge it in favor of keeping his partner out of the loop. If he was lucky enough, he could convince both him and Bozer that whatever he had wasn't serious ad so he could be left alone to suffer in silence in the privacy of his own room. He couldn't keep denying that he felt like crap now, especially after his body had relaxed from the workout and the adrenaline of the exercise had died down, but he hated it whenever he got sick with such a passion that he just didn't want to have to deal with anybody, not even Jack.

Being an expert (barely graduated) at reading his partner's mood, Jack kept his thoughts to himself during the car ride to Mac's place. It was one thing to fuss and let out his concerns whenever they were dealing with a physical, work related injury; but a completely different one when Jack had to deal with a sick Mac. Now that entailed a whole other level of approach.

On his part, Mac was tapping his fingers impatiently on his leg while bouncing the other one up and down with rapid movements. He couldn't wait to get home and lock himself up in his bedroom. In the back of his mind, he knew why he hated getting sick, but it was something he preferred to ignore if he could (which he not always could).

By the time they made it to the house, Jack knew his partner had started to run a fever. Fine tremors ran through his body now and then and his eyes looked red rimmed with exhaustion a general ill feeling. Jack let Mac get out of the car and head inside the house on his own, knowing he was still strong enough to make it and wanting to leave the confrontation that would sure be taking place between them for later. Mac would want to shut himself off from the world, but this time Jack would not let him. He was going to get to the bottom of his partner's antics about being sick today, and that was a mission he was not going to be backing down from any time soon.

"Jack, man!" Bozer greeted him as the pair made its way into the house "you could've warned me earlier about the soup bro, you know how much time it takes to be ready! What's Mac gonna eat in the mean time?"

"I can just have a sandwich, I don't need the soup Boze" Mac answered instead of Jack, bypassing them all and heading to his room.

"Soooooo should I make the soup?" Bozer asked.

"No" "YES!" both Mac and Jack answered at the same time, but Bozer decided to just do it in case Mac changed his mind. A lot could happen in two and a half hours.

Jack then ran to one of the kitchen cabinets and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol plus a glass of water. When he made it to Mac's room, he found that the other man had already changed clothes and was wearing a set of long sweat pants and an oversized hoodie, his feet were also covered by thick socks.

"Dude, aren't you gonna be hot?" he asked, his concern spiking up because the night was actually warm, as they often were in California.

"I'm not hot" Jack decided to let the teasing joke that had already started to form in his mind slide for tonight because if Mac wasn't feeling hot, that meant he was feeling cold (which he wouldn't acknowledge out loud) and that could only mean his fever must have been going up.

"Here… I brought you some Tylenol. Take a couple of pills and lay down for a while" he said, placing the water bottle and the medicine on the bedside table "I'll come get you when the food is ready. Unless you actually want a sandwich?"

"I'm actually not gonna eat anything. I'm not hungry" Mac said, totally ignoring the recently brought pills and laying down on his bed, pulling the covers over himself as he curled in on his side.

"I don't think so, buddy. You need to eat something and you know Bozer's soup will cure whatever bug you managed to catch. I'll just come get you when it's done" he decided and then added "and just take a couple of Tylenol, you're running a fever" he finished, coming closer to Mac and placing a hand over his forehead, wincing at how hot it felt to the touch. Mac angrily swatted his hand away and sent a glare his way.

"I'm fine, I'm just gonna sleep so if you don't mind, close the door when you get out" he said none too gently.

"Alright, that's it. Why do you get like this whenever you're sick?"

"Like what? I don't get like anything"

"Oh yeah" Jack snorted "you do. You get all angry and cranky and act like a freaking rebellious teenager. Nobody likes to get sick but you definitely take it to the next level" he finished, glad that at least the confrontation had started after Mac had laid down in bed. His energy would soon be leaving him drained and Jack was glad the kid was right where he should be. This wasn't the first time he took care of a sick Mac, so he knew how the cycle worked for his young partner. This was just the first time he actually confronted him about his attitude towards the situation. Everyone got sick every once in a while, it wasn't such a big deal.

"Whatever Jack, just please let me sleep and go home" Mac said, proving Jack right about the whole acting like a rebellious teenager thing when he turned roughly to his other side, giving his back to Jack.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know it's my job to look after you" (actually, more than a job) Jack thought to himself.

"In the field, not here" Mac replied, his voice a little subdued by the tiredness he was feeling.

"It's my job anywhere. Whether you're shot or sick" Jack insisted, not wanting his partner to close off now; he still hadn't answered his question. When no other words were forth coming from the blond, Jack got closer to the bed "Mac?" he called, only to jump back in surprise as Mac suddenly turned around with fire in his eyes and yelled at him the answer he had so desperately wanted to know.

"It's not your job to take care of me when I'm sick Jack! It was hers!" and that was all he was capable of saying before his body swayed dangerously at the edge of the bed, forcing Jack to step up and place a hand on the kid's shoulders to keep him from falling over to the floor.

"Whoa, whoa! Easy there…" he said, gently pushing Mac back towards the pillow and setting the back of his hand against his forehead again to feel for his temperature; it was higher. Mac moaned when another wave of dizziness struck him and he turned on his side to clench at his stomach and close his eyes tight, his breathing quick and fast. Jack, of course, didn't miss this "You gonna be sick?" he asked. Mac nodded just in time for Jack to yell at Bozer to bring a bucket to the room, glad to notice Bozer already making his way through the door and placing the bucket by Mac's side of the bed. Immediately Mac leaned over the edge and started dry heaving, feeling every muscle on his abdomen contract painfully and then tasting the disgusting bile in his mouth before emptying his already more than empty stomach into the bowl.

Jack kept a hand on his forehead to keep him from falling out of bed, given how the kid's energy was totally spent by now and just coaxed him through the worst of the painful dry heaves by rubbing a hand up and down his back. He instructed Bozer to go get some ice chips and both a dry and a slightly damp towel. He made it back in record time, dropping the contents of his errand by Jack's side and then stepping out of the room to give the two men some privacy but staying within earshot in case they needed something else.

Back in the room, Mac seemed to be over his throwing up and gladly took the bottle of water Jack picked from the bed side table, taking a few sips to rinse his mouth and spitting the filthy water into the bucket before actually swallowing a couple of sips.

"Easy there" Jack warned, reaching for the bottle "you don't want to get sick again, do you?" Mac didn't answer, just dropped the rest of the way to the bed again and wiped his damp forehead. Jack could see the misery in those baby blue eyes, and he couldn't help the instinctive gesture of reaching to push some blond locks away from his face. They were sticky with sweat, as was most of his skin, and Jack noticed that his fever wasn't coming down at all. He reached for the pills then "would you take these now?" he asked, dropping two pills into his palm and offering the water bottle again. This time, Mac did as instructed without arguing "there you go" he said, and Mac decided in that moment to look away "you should have some ice chips too, they will help" at hearing those words, Mac's eyes began to burn and he, again, turned on his side to give his back to Jack.

"I'm better now, please go" he pleaded, his voice tight and hoarse.

"What is it Mac?" Jack asked, having seen the dampness creep into the younger man's eyes before he had turned away. The younger man didn't answer and Jack had to heavy a sigh, back to the rebellious teen attitude it was. Which reminded him… "What do you mean it was her job to take care of you? Who are you talking about?" thinking that Mac would opt for remaining silent, he was surprised to receive an answer without having to fight for it harder.

"My mom" came the broken reply and now Jack could see everything under a different light "I hate being sick because it reminds me of when my mom would take care of me. Every time she would be by my side, giving me ice chips and controlling the fever. She would cook her special vegetable soup and read to me for hours. She always gave me a new box of paperclips because I would spend two days in bed with nothing else to do. Every time she did that, until she didn't anymore" he finished, feeling a few tears escape his eyes but wiping at them quickly and then taking a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes and felt Jack's hand rest on his shoulder, this time relishing the comforting feeling it gave him.

Jack understood now why Mac always acted the way he did whenever he got sick. Getting sick made you feel vulnerable, whether you wanted it or not, and even the toughest of guys longed for their mothers whenever they felt down. Having had that privilege taken away from him when he was so young had made him completely hate the times he got sick afterwards because now there was no one to take care of the poor kid, especially after his father had bailed.

Jack would never attempt to take either his mother's or father's place (even if sometimes Mac did feel like a son to him), but he made sure Mac understood that it was okay to feel the way he did and that, even though his mother was no longer with him, it didn't mean there weren't other people available to take care of him when he needed it.

Mac spent the better part of his days worrying about other people and saving thousands of people's lives, sometimes all at once, and not once did he put himself before them. Not once did he consider himself first. Jack needed Mac to understand that it was okay to let other people take care of him for a change, that it didn't make him look weak and it definitely didn't make him look like a child. It just made him look human, like they all were.

By the end of the night, Jack hadn't gotten a verbal response from the young man, but he had considered it a win when he had eventually turned back towards him and had let Jack help him through his headache by caressing his forehead with gentle fingers. He had visibly relaxed and the older man was also able to wipe the sweat of his face with the dry towel Bozer had brought in earlier, and then refresh his skin using the damp one. About fifteen minutes later, he could tell Mac had finally fallen asleep.

An hour later he checked Mac's temperature, pleased to see that the Tylenol had worked to bring his fever down and that he didn't seem to be as cold anymore. He pulled back the covers to keep the kid from getting too hot again and then left the room with the door ajar. He would leave his friend to rest for now and then, when he woke up, he would make him eat an entire bowl of Bozer's chicken soup. He wasn't going to fuss over him like he usually did, but he also would remain close by, making sure Mac ha understood he didn't have to go through being sick alone. He may have had to do that for a while, but now he had friends like Riley, Bozer and him, to remind him to take care of himself as well as he liked to take care of others.

THE END – FINITO – TERMINADO

I'm not sure about the ending… didn't quite know how to wrap up the story but, hopefully, it wasn't so bad…

Any thoughts? I really hope you guys enjoyed it!