The hall was giant and dark as a cave. The black stone walls curved in solid arches to a black rib vault above. 18 year-old Angus MacGyver fought to keep his mouth from dropping open. Frosty shoved him.

"Lucky 13 is blown away!" Mac's face flushed but he didn't lose his grin.

"I've never seen such high buttresses. I think that's black marble I wonder…"

"Enough! Stop thinking!"

"We brought you to have fun, already." Mac growled as one of the other EOD techs knocked his bobbin off his head. The others laughed and walked past him to spread out among the hundreds of people twirling to an ominous technobeat and hypnotising lights that seemed to come out of a low chilling fog. Mac tried to reshape the beaten hobo hat back into place then put it on again. His mouth was dry. He hadn't wanted to come. Mac wanted to spend his furlow with the same guys he saw day after day in the desert. When Bozer hadn't been able to come over, he had nothing else to do.

Mac itched his arm. The cheap ugly checked jacket he wore was scratchy against his skin. It still smelled like street and booze. He didn't really ask or want to know where his teammates had come up with it.

The hobo clown was the best costume he could come up with on such short notice. Frosty had reassured him the Colonel had spare costumes at Sleepy Hollow Green, but that felt like he was cheating somehow.

"What are you doing all alone up here?" Mac looked up startled to find himself surrounded by three of the most gorgeous women he could ever have imagined, if he dared to imagine such things. All three were dressed in lavish silk stolas over long graceful tunics. They all had the same honey-wheat colored hair and wide green eyes that flashed like emeralds in the laser show.

"You don't like the party?" One said curling around his arm.

"Urm...no, it's ok...better than ok...WAY better than ok…" Mac jumped when another one wrapped around his other arm and the third sidled up to his front wrapping her arms around his neck. Her green eyes became his whole world as she slowly kissed him. Mac felt wobbly and out of breath. His eyes widened and he flinched when he felt somebody's hands caress his buttocks.

"I'm Daphne." The blonde in front of him purred.

Mac's eyes slowly opened. His breath was loud in the blackness that curled around him. It hurt to breathe, to move, to...shit, anything. Sweat beaded and dripped down his forehead and face. It pooled in every crevice. The bad suit itched and he burned everywhere. Mac thought it was from the terrible ant bites. He'd changed his mind. They did hurt as much as bullet wounds. Mac's eyes sagged as he slowly wheezed in another breath.

He wondered where he was. The thought drifted to him from a long way off. No one was going to find him. Mac tried to clear away the dark thoughts but it took too much effort. He should be grateful, he supposed. Thanks to the torture he'd endured he'd probably fall asleep and slip away. Otherwise suffocating is the worst way he could think of to die. Not that any sounded good. Mac's head tilted away and his brain sank into dreams again, the only way he could escape the box shrinking around him.

Halloween is coming. All Hallow's Eve, my innocent babies are alive tonight and coming for your life...and your soul. It should have been easy Mac drowsily chided himself. Who else would have the resources and motivation to go through all this? Mavan Kells...Mac's mouth curled up at the corners. Innocent, huh? Mac thought of the long perfect night he had with Daphne. Innocent my ass. Mac frowned a thought occurred to him as he drifted off. After the dance he'd run into Mavan Kells. The older woman dressed like a crazed ghoul with wild long hair and gnarled claws. Her voice was sultry, but her brown eyes looked red if you looked at them too long. Mac had always wondered if she dressed like that all the time? She had almost thrown Mac out. At the time, he'd written it off as mad mama bear. Looking back, was she jealous of Daphne?

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

"Ok? Everybody got it?" Jack said looking at all the TAC leaders. They nodded and went to load their gear in the ring of black SUVs. Jack carried his gear to the black van. He reached up to close the door when Riley grabbed his shoulder.

"Ri...What?" He could feel her excitement like static between them.

"Jack, I piggybacked into the signal. Listen." Jack stilled and leaned forward his eyes closed. Riley had a handheld radio in one hand and a homemade ball of wires in the other. She turned the volume up as high as it will go. Jack sat back letting out a deep breath. All he heard were long snoring breaths. He didn't like how congested the breathing sounded, but he was glad to hear it and the low mumble that occasionally broke through.

Jack's heart lurched at his name said in a slurred whisper. It held fatalistic sadness. Jack gritted his teeth. Mac had given up on him coming.

"Can I talk to him?" Riley nodded, "But whoever is streaming might hear us." Jack scowled. They wouldn't have the surprise advantage. A soft whimper of pain made his decision.

"Drive Ri." Jack said pushing her back and climbing into the back of the van. He barely noticed as the van lurched into life and sped toward the mall.

"Mac?" Jack's voice disappeared in a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Mac? C'mon buddy talk to me."

"J...K...you?" Jack had to press his ear against the speaker to hear the kid's weak voice. Jack smiled, feeling tears trail down his cheeks.

"Yeah, brother it's me. You don't sound so good, kiddo."

" 'm...dyin'." Jack could hear Mac's breathing hitch as he broke into a hissing laugh followed by deep gutted groan. Jack's fingers on the radio went white with the pressure he grabbed the radio.

"Uh-huh, no way. I refuse to hear that, bubba. I'm on my way and you better not think about being dead when I get there or I'll kill you myself." He heard a sharp intake followed by weak coughing.

" 'K. Know who...beh...hind…"

"Yeah, buddy we got a good idea too. Do you know where you are?"

"C...of..fin." Jack met Bozer's wide eyed stare.

"Sorry, brother, did you say coffin?"

"Yeah...not...no...air…" Jack closed his eyes as he listened to Mac desperately try to pull in enough air to catch his breath and struggle when there wasn't enough.

"Ok, brother, we're on our way there, ok? You don't talk, just listen ok? Mac made a grunting sound too tired to answer. Jack met Riley's eyes in the mirror. She nodded and mashed the pedal to the floor.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Mac fought not to fidget in the rough suit. Daphne leaned over and nibbled his ear. Mac broke into a surprised grin then blinked the brightness of the camera away.

"That'll be very nice." Wendell Kells said smiling. He was a giant mountain of a man with folds that seemed to plop over each other as he melted. Mac had never met the Colonel before and had no idea how he'd ended up in this EOD unit. He'd put in papers to transfer into Peña's unit but Kells was fighting it. As far as Mac could see he wasn't anything special. He had no idea why this bloated man wanted to keep him in Bagram. When he thought about it, his gut churned. Something was going on, but Mac had no idea what or why.

A meaty paw on his shoulder brought him back to the party. Kells deep dark eyes looked like holes in a skeleton's face as he studied Mac. The man's gaze travelled to his girls who stood in a triangle around the phone looking at pictures from the party.

"You are a good boy." Kells' deep voice was ponderous and sad. It didn't stop Mac from bristling at being called a boy.

"Sir-" Wendell leaned his head back and let loose with a belly laugh that would rival the angriest roar of a lion. Mac's ears vibrated with the sheer power of the sound.

"You're right, Private. You aren't a boy, are you? Anyone who works with bombs every day has earned the right to be a man." Mac scuffled his feet but couldn't stop the small smile. Wendell Kells put a thick arm across Mac's shoulders and turned him to face the writhing shadows dancing wildly in the fog. Mac's mouth went dry. The guests had universally gone as ghosts or ghouls. Beside them, Mac felt underdressed and naive-like someone's kid brother who forced his brother to take him to an adult party.

"What do you think?" Kells studied Mac's face closely. Mac could almost feel his skin and flesh being pulled back layer by layer as the man's empty eyes picked at his carcass. Mac began to wonder if there wasn't something more than the cold vapour of dry ice in the fog. He felt as if thick tendrils curled inside his skull and slowed the gears of his thoughts. It took him a second to realize he didn't answer the Colonel's question.

"It's amazing, sir. Truly spooky." Kells smile scrunched the corner of his eyes.

"Thank you, private. I'd like to think of it as the ninth circle of hell." Mac frowned rubbing his eyes. He was suddenly sleepy.

"Treachery, sir?"

"You know Dante?"

"I thy guide will lead thee hence through an eternal space, where thou shall hear despairing shrieks, and see Spirits of Old tormented, who invoke a thousand deaths." Mac randomly quoted. He offered a shy smile to the man looming beside him. Mac squirmed with the intensity Kells studied him.

"Indeed, Angus. You have it exactly right." Mac opened his mouth to apologize, but the giant man spun and seemed to blur and vanish in a cloud of shadow. Mac rubbed his arms feeling chilled.

"Are you cold, lover?" Daphne was back draping around Mac like a cloak. Mac turned to grin at her.

"Not any more."

Mac let out a soft whisper of despair as the fragmented memory fluttered away. It had been a merciful dream. Now he again was suffocating in complete darkness. Mac closed his eyes fighting to breathe through the thickening pressure around him. Every breath was shallow no matter how much he fought. Mac closed his eyes as they flooded with tears.

"Jack." He moaned. Would he ever see his best friend again? Bozer? Riley or Matty? Anyone? He could feel a blackness darker than the complete absence of light around him bloom inside. He moaned as if it carved a giant hole in his chest. It wasn't in his nature to give up, but he really didn't a way out. He'd almost given up when manna came from heaven.

"Mac? Mac, c'mon buddy talk to me." Mac licked his lips and narrowed his eyes. Was he still dreaming? Was Jack in the coffin with him? Mac closed his eyes. It wasn't...it couldn't be real. How could he hear Jack? Well, Mac thought, all hypotheses needed testing and it wasn't like he had anything better to do.

"J...k...you?" Even though he said it as loud as he could, he doubted anyone in the coffin with him could hear it, let alone Jack who had to be miles away.

"Yeah, brother it's me. You don't sound so good." Mac hissed in pain as a laugh escaped. Not good? DUH.

" 'm dyin'." Mac mumbled as if Jack was a dim child. Couldn't he see how bad Mac felt? Mac groaned as he broke into a wet cough. Everything trickled away for a second. Jack didn't leave him. How could Mac ever thought he would? What was Jack babbling? It took effort but Mac tried to listen. He was distracted by the comfort of Jack's familiar cadence. He felt as if he were wrapped in a warm blanket, at home, sleeping off his cold...His eyes sank. He shook himself awake. Mac knew he didn't have long left. He'd be damned if he wasted it feeling sorry for himself.

" "k. Know who behind…"