A/N This chapter and chapter nine pretty much equal the average length of the previous chapters. I may join them together someday but for now, they shall remain as separate. I hope this makes up for my absence. Forgiven?

A/N2 I'll try to get another chapter up soon but no guarantees as I still have a deadline to meet in RL.

A/N3 Also, just a point of note, since I'm pretty sure Mac's mom's name hasn't been provided in the reboot, I got it from the classic - and, let me tell you, it felt weird to use my first name in a story! lol Ellen was her name in the classic, I promise!

Jack immediately sat forward on his chair, placing a hand on Mac's arm. This had always been a touchy subject for the kid. He never talked about it much and Bozer hadn't come into Mac's life until years later. All Jack knew was what he read in MacGyver's file and tiny snippets of information Mac had shared with him over the years, the most recent being the fact that he felt guilty having any happy memories about Mission City because that was where his mom had died.

Jack was pretty sure he'd helped the kid get some perspective on that, at least, based on his own experience with the death of his father. Still, if this fever had Mac reliving the death of his mother, the Delta Commando had absolutely no idea how to help with that. MacGyver was five when his mom died, so Jack could only hope that the walls hadn't been erected yet and the kid had at least grieved her death.

Either way, it was buried deep, and Jack knew their conversation back in Mission City had barely even scratched the surface.

MacGyver sat at the kitchen table, watching his mom, Ellen MacGyver, make breakfast. He recognized the house as the one he grew up in until his dad left him on his grandpa's doorstep. His mom was singing one of her favourite songs as she mixed the pancake batter up in a large bowl. 'Paper Roses' by Marie Osmond. He smiled at the memory of how she would always sing the lyrics to him in third person so he wouldn't think that she was accusing him of not truly loving her.

His gaze took in more details of the room. It was odd. The appliances seemed to be more like what he remembered from when he was twelve, as opposed to from back in the mid-1990's.

"Where is everybody?"

The voice had MacGyver's attention snapping to the kitchen door just in time to see Jack Dalton walk into the room. His hair was flattened against his scalp but stylish, and he was wearing tan slacks and a light blue shirt. He also looked to be about 10 years younger. Definitely different, but still Jack. Then MacGyver noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Hey, buddy," Jack said, ruffling Mac's hair with one hand as he passed.

Mac's jaw dropped as Jack placed a gentle kiss on his mother's cheek and handed her the bouquet of her favourite flowers – white and pink amaryllis. "Sorry, I'm late. I got stuck on a call. I'll be happy when these backshifts are over with, let me tell you." He turned his attention to MacGyver. "What are you doin' home from school, buddy?"

"He's not feeling well," Ellen told him. "He was all ready to go to school before he told me."

"That explains the pancakes. You don't make my favourite breakfast for me when I'm sick," he groused with a good natured pout.

"If you were twelve, I would," she quipped back. "Besides, these are for you. MacGyver and I are just hanging out for a bit. He didn't want to go back to bed until you got home. How was work?"

"Same ol', same ol'," Jack said. Stepping over to the table, he hunkered down next to Mac's chair. "Those bullies still buggin' you at school, kiddo?"

MacGyver found himself averting his eyes in shame. This dream just felt so darn real!

"Jack, that can't be the only reason. His temperature is up to 103." The worry in her tone became obvious for the first time in the conversation. Jack glanced over his shoulder at her, then returned his attention to MacGyver, placing his palm against the small forehead.

"Stress can do crazy things," Jack told him. "But I'll admit that's a bit much." He stood and gripped MacGyver beneath the armpits, lifting him up and holding him against his chest. Mac was surprised to find himself wrap his arms around the broad shoulders and snuggle his face into Jack's neck.

"You need some help with him?" Ellen asked.

"Nah, we got this, don't we, bud?"

The next thing MacGyver knew, they were up in his bedroom and Jack was helping him change out of his jeans and t-shirt and into his favourite Spiderman pyjamas. "Hey, Mac," Jack said, kneeling down in front of him once again. "You can come to me about anything. You're like the son I never had. You know that, right?"

Mac's eyes filled with tears and he threw himself into Jack's arms. When the strong arms came up around him in return, he felt safer than he'd ever felt in years. "I wish you were my dad," he muttered into Jack's shoulder, his cheeks hot with tears.

His feet left the ground as Jack lifted him up again, rocking him back and forth as he paced the length of the room. Mac felt the feather light kiss on the back of his neck as Jack said, "Me, too, bud. Me, too."

"Mac, wake up, kid. Mac!"

The blue eyes flew open, bright with fever and, Jack's heart broke to realize, tears. "Jack?"

"Yeah, kid, I'm here," he replied shakily.

"Where's my mom?"

That threw Jack for a loop. Mixing past and present realities? Was that even possible? Well, possible or not, it was happening. He gripped the forearm beneath his hand a bit tighter and said softly, "Your mom died, kiddo. A little over 20 years ago now. Remember?"

Mac shook his head in denial. "No, no, she was just here. She was making pancakes for you," he said, tears unmistakable in his voice.

Jack raised his eyebrows at the last statement. He'd tuck that away for a conversation later on. For now, he concentrated on the traumatized blond in front of him. Pushing the bangs off the feverish forehead, he said, "I'm so sorry, bud. You were dreaming."

Tears filled MacGyver's eyes. "But…" he looked around the room, saw that it wasn't his childhood bedroom. He studied Jack. He was still Jack but different. His hair was spiked up to a peak again. He was wearing the same type of black tee he always wore. And Mac would be willing to bet, he had on the matching black jeans, too.

And, just like that, reality came crashing down on him. His mom died when he was five. His dad left when he was twelve but Jack never stepped in as stepdad. "It felt so…"

"Real?" Jack supplied.

Mac nodded, unable to hold back the choked sob. "What's wrong with me?" he asked, swiping his tears away angrily.

It was meant as a rhetorical question but Jack answered anyway. "You've got a high fever and it's bringing all your emotions closer to the surface, bud. It's been a long week, why not cut yourself some slack?"

Jack watched as the proverbial walls went up. "Just let yourself feel, Mac. I'll pick up the pieces afterwards, I promise." He could feel the arm beneath his hand trembling with the effort of keeping everything bottled up, each negative emotion in its own compartment, to be dealt with at a later date. Which usually meant never. Jack just couldn't let that happen. Not this time. So, for the second time that night, he kicked off his shoes and stretched out next to his friend.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Something I should've done a long time ago, kiddo." He pulled MacGyver against him, holding on tight.

At first, Mac pushed against him with every ounce of strength he had. "Lemme go!" But as his emotions continued to bubble to the surface, he felt more and more like the twelve year old who threw himself into Jack's arms, seeking comfort and shelter. His struggles became less and less until he found himself wrapping his arms around Jack's back and sobbing into the older man's chest.

His tears were for more than just his mom, though. They were for the life that could've been. The life in his dream that would have been so wonderful.

His mom alive. Jack as his new dad. There because he wanted to be, not just because he had to be.

But when Mac felt Jack's hand push through his hair and cup the back of his head; when he heard the soft shushing sounds; when he felt himself being rocked back and forth... He fell back to sleep with a startling revelation.

Half of his dream had come true.

His mom wasn't here with him. But Jack was.

TBC

Reviews are always welcome! ~ Kelcor